#i’m still trying to convert you all though

[jedi-hawkins]

Flowers for the Doctor

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Kix x f!reader

Chosen Flower: St. John's Wort

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Medical terminology, pandemic, sickness and death, brief suggestive content

Beta-read by @anxiouspineapple99

The helmet of your hazmat suit hisses as you release the seal. A deep sigh passes your lips as you step out of your suit and hang it on the rack for decontamination. When you open the door to the decontam stalls, the creak echoes around the tiled room. 

'Damn. All this and we can’t even get some WD-40 on the hinges?' You think to yourself before stripping down to your skivvies and stepping under one of the spouts. The doors from the infectious disease ward open again and a friendly face steps in. 

“Kix.” 

He smiles at you as he strips down to his briefs and steps under a spout. “Long day, Doc?”

You can’t even muster a reply as you close your eyes and hit the red button in front of you. For just a single moment, the rest of the hospital fades away with the roar of the sonic waves washing over you, and then it’s over. 

“That good, huh?” Kix notes your response, or lack thereof. 

You shake your head, trying to keep it together. “I’ve had better.” 

Kix holds the door to the locker room open for you as you step through. “At least you don’t have to wear the clone kit all day.” He says, tossing you a pair of clean blacks from the cabinet. “On the battlefield it’s great, but here I bump around like a pinball. I’m lucky if I can make it through the day without breaking anything.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

The corner of your mouth does twitch a little. “I don’t know.” You respond, “I’ve always thought I looked like a hutt in those hazmat suits, and the gloves are so annoying.” 

“Dinner?” Kix simply asks. 

“Please.”

He leads the way to the hospital cantina. You met Kix just a couple weeks ago, but the two of you had become fast friends. He was a clone medic, sent to your planet to help in one of the hundreds of makeshift ‘hospitals’ that had popped up in the wake of a pandemic. This particular hospital was housed in an academic campus, shut down because of the spreading illness. 

Normally, you were the second in command in the biggest hospital in the planet’s capital, but for the past month your days consisted of random converted buildings, biohazard suits, and patients you felt like you couldn’t do anything for. At the end of the day, you were thankful Kix had been stationed at your hospital. 

Though you two were usually preoccupied with your own patients throughout the day, the pair of you could usually be found together on your breaks. It felt like Kix truly saw you and your struggle. Sure, the hospital Medical Director was the top dog, calling the shots, but you were the one in the trenches of the Infectious Disease Ward every day. 

This pandemic was an enigma that you just couldn’t figure out. It should have just been the normal yearly wave of Wet Lung, easily managed by some general antibios, but those didn’t work. Then your Medical Director ordered you to move up to more aggressive drugs, so you did. Before you knew it, your patients were on IV drips of the most aggressive antibio cocktail you could think of. 

And they still weren’t getting better, in fact, they were getting worse. You’d already lost a number of patients to sepsis, blood poisoning, and the other hospitals across the planet were facing the same issues. As far as you knew, any person that had caught this mysterious strain of Wet Lung were either dead or dying and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You nearly bump into Kix when he stops to open the cantina door. 

“Coruscant to Doc, are you okay?” He asks, guiding you through the door with a hand on your lower back. 

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, Kix. Just a long shift, you know?”

He squeezes your shoulder before grabbing a tray and heading to the serving line. Even though the Republic had brought the war to your Planet a few months ago, you had to admit their support was needed for this pandemic. And nobody knows how to feed the masses quite like the GAR. 

Kix immediately starts eating when you two sit down, he told you about one of his brothers, Fives: 'If you didn’t eat quickly around him, he’d swipe the rest of your rations.'

You just can’t bring yourself to eat, instead you just chase a few peas around your tray. Of course, Kix notices. 

“Jahaal'got.” He says, using your nickname to grab your attention. “Come on. Talk. It wasn’t just a long day.”

You avoid his eyes, the words getting stuck in your throat. You’ve lost patients before, multiple in one day even, so why was today crushing you so badly?

Kix sets down his fork and reaches across the table to gently grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “How many did you lose today?”

You take a deep breath, “Twelve, eight more deteriorating. I just… I don’t get it, Kix. What are we missing? The drugs aren’t working, they keep going septic before we can catch it, and those that haven’t progressed to sepsis are dying to the Wet Lung.” 

Kix stops your rambling by taking both your hands in his. “You remember what your nickname means, right?” 

You should be able to remember, but your mind has been so overworked, it doesn’t come to you. “I, uh… something about medicine?”

“Jahaal’got.” Kix repeats it. “It’s the mando term meaning 'good for health', because that’s what you are. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s all you can do.” 

You nod, closing your eyes and rolling your head to try to release the tension in your shoulders. 

“You’re off tonight, right?” Kix asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I picked up the night shift, I have to be here.” 

Kix scoffs at you. “Are you serious? What, you’re just going to sleep on the hospital floor forever?” 

“Not forever.” You protest. “Just until this blows over.” 

“This pandemic or the war?” 

You meet his eyes, and a knowing look passes between you. After meeting him, you had discussed sending in an application to become a civilian medic for the GAR. 

“Well, we have an hour before the night shift starts.” Kix says, standing up and taking your tray. “Why don’t we go for a walk and then try again at this ‘food’ thing before going back to work?”

Your brow furrows at his remark, “But you-”

“Will also be working the night shift, so it seems.” He cuts you off. He shifts both trays into one hand and holds his other out to help you out of your seat. 

Kix leads the way, dropping the trays in the wash basin on the way out of the cantina. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky with shades of orange, pinks and purples. 

The two of you walk through the academic campus, chatting about nothing in particular. Kix asks you a few questions here and there about the buildings you all pass. Though it’s been a few years, you tell him what you remember about studying here. 

“It’s a shame all the students had to be sent home.” You remark as you step into the university greenhouses. 

Kix nods his agreement. “What is this place?” He asks, looking around. 

“The campus greenhouses, they're shared by a few departments.” You explain. “Biology, horticulture, environmental studies, and engineering to name a few.”

“I’m surprised everything is still alive, don’t plants take some maintenance?”

“Well, the greenhouse forms a pretty self-sustaining environment. I remember the medical students coming in here a couple times.”

Kix tilts his head at you. “What would medical students study in here?”

“Well,” you shrug, “There are quite a few medicinal plants native to this planet. Though they aren’t quite as effective as modern medicine, they can still be used for daily management or as an additional treatment.” 

The two of you weave through the greenhouse aisles for a few more minutes before you notice Kix has lagged behind. When you turn around to find him, you notice he’s hiding something behind his back.

Your eyes narrow. “What do you have there, Kix? It’s not a bug, is it? That was only funny the first time.”

He chuckles, “Haha, no. I promise it’s not. Here, one last thing to brighten your day.” 

You freeze when you notice what he has in his hand. 

Kix notices your expression at the small yellow flowers he’s holding out to you. “What, are they poisonous or something?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head smiling as you take them from him. “It’s just funny, those are St. John’s Worts.” 

“Weird name.” 

“It’s from local mythology.” You explain. “The flowers tend to bloom on the summer solstice, which is dedicated to their namesake.” 

Kix looks from you to the flowers and gently picks a few more sprigs from the nearby planter, tucking them behind your ear. “They’re pretty, like something else I’m looking at.” 

His words make you smile, but you playfully swat at his arm. “Oh stop it. I know I look like hell.” 

“You look better than anyone else would after nearly a month of non-stop work in an infectious disease ward.” He responds.

“Thanks Kix.” You say, hoping that your sincerity projects. Before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck. 

Kix falters, but only for a second. You feel his arms wrap around you, strong and steady, just like him. Just like he has been for you the past few weeks. Maybe it was his clone conditioning, or maybe it was just him, but he seemed so unshakeable and he always knew what to say. 

He doesn’t relax until you do, but his hands remain on your hips, his eyes darting across your face, trying to read your thoughts. One of your hands rests on his chest, the other still on his shoulder. You won’t deny how drawn you are to him. Though you hoped for the end of this mystery illness plaguing your planet, it stung that it’s end meant saying goodbye to Kix. 

Kix is shifting. ‘He’s leaning in, why is he leaning in?’

You move as well, but the moment is shattered when your foreheads bump into each other. 

Kix lets go of you completely and takes a step back, color spreading across his cheeks.

“I uhhh…” He tries to find the words, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uh, it’s fine.” You stammer. “You’re fi- we’re fine.” A giggle slips past your lips at the awkwardness. 

Kix breaks into some nervous laughter as well before readjusting some of the yellow flowers in your hair. “Tell me about them.” 

You smile at him. “Well, they’re perennials, meaning they come back every year, they don’t need to be replanted. Although the flowers are yellow, they’ll stain your fingers red when you crush them. They’ve been shown to have some antidepressant properties as well as anti-inflammatory benefits, but you need to be careful when combining them with modern drugs.”

You notice Kix’s soft expression as he listens to you.

“It’s been shown that St. John’s Wort has antibio and antiviral properties as we-'' Your heart stops. “Kix.”

“What?” 

“Kix, that’s it,” you repeat. “That’s why we keep losing them. We’ve been treating this Wet Lung with antibios, but those aren’t working because it’s not bacterial.”

Kix’s mouth drops open and he says the words at the same time as you. “It’s viral.” 

You can see the thoughts tumbling in his head. “And because we advanced to use the system-wide drugs, the patient’s are too weak to fight the virus, triggering the sepsis.” He stammers out. “But, wait, that can’t be right. How can it be viral? There’s never been a case of viral Wet lung reported on this planet.” 

Your feet move automatically as you start pacing. “‘There’s always a patient zero. Normal trade is scanned and sanitized.” You stop. “The troopers.”

Kix’s brow furrows. “No, we're vaccinated.”

“Yes, but vaccines aren’t a foolproof plan, with a mutated strain it might present as a mild cold, or not even show symptoms, especially since you all are engineered to have a more robust immune system.” You say, your brain moving a klick a minute. “Where were you all stationed before being deployed here?”

“Most of the 501st was on shore leave on Coruscant.” Kix replies, shaking his head. “The Carnivore and Execute Battalions… They were on Rhodia and transferred directly here for the occupation.” 

His eyes widen and he grabs your wrist without another word. 

“Kix? Kix!” You shout as he drags you through the campus back towards the hospital. “Why is it so important that you were on Rhodia?”

“Rhodia is one of the native planets for viral strains of Wet Lung.” He pants. “The Rhodians are largely immune, but some mutated strains survive. You were right, we had a couple troopers reporting colds when they transferred.” 

The doors to the Infectious Disease Ward bang open and Kix finally lets go of your wrist, giving you a moment to breathe. 

“Like you said, the troopers, we’re engineered to have stronger immune systems and we’re vaccinated.” He continues. “The population here…”

“We never have.” You finish his sentence. “We don’t have any kind of immunity. Combined with your theory that it’s a mutated strain and the antibios we’ve given them, it’s no wonder-”

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” 

The two of you turn and see the Medical Director storming down the nearby hallway. 

Kix steps partially in front of you and stands at attention. “I’m sorry sir, but we-”

“I don’t care what you two were doing!” The Director booms. “You bursting in here is no excuse.”

You slowly step out from behind Kix. “Please, sir. We think we’ve figured out this pandemic.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m in charge here.” The Director says, his eyes narrowing.

Instead of bowing away as usual, you stand your ground. “I am just as qualified as you, if not more. I'm the one that's been running this ward while you sit in your office. I graduated from this very campus, top of my class and I’m the second in command at the Capital Hospital. This disease we’re dealing with, it has to be viral.”

Your Medical Director looks you up and down, pausing at the yellow flowers in your hair. “There has never been a case of viral Wet Lung reported on this planet. The antibios always work. We just need to find the right combination of meds.”

“Sir, you need to listen.” You insist. “I know we’ve always treated Wet Lung with antibios, but look,” You wave your arm at the ward behind him. “Every single patient that’s come in is either still sick or has progressed to sepsis. The other hospitals are reporting the same.”

Kix puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “She’s right, sir. Strains of viral Wet Lung are common in other systems. We had a couple battalions transfer here from one of those systems, Rhodia. It’s likely some of our troopers were carriers for a mutated variant and brought it here.”

You pick up where Kix left off. “Even though our population doesn’t have any innate immunity, a fair amount of people probably could have ridden out the virus if we hadn’t given them those antibios.” You bite your lip before continuing. “Those drugs are effective, but in a patient with no bacterial infection, all it would do is compromise their system. They can’t fight the virus, and they progress to sepsis. Only we’re not catching it before it kills them because the Wet Lung is masking the sepsis symptoms.” 

You try to stop the words from spilling over your lips but in a last desperate plea for your officer to understand, it slips out.

"We’re killing them."

Kix’s hand squeezes firmly on your shoulder as you let out a choked sob. Your medical officer looks at you curiously, you’ve always been so level headed and sure footed. 

The Director crosses his arms. "So you’re telling me to take them off the drugs and do nothing. You do know that’s how we treat viruses, right?"

You lock eyes with him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We need to give them supportive treatment; fluids, steroids, pain medication. We can try some antivirals to weaken the Wet Lung strain, but the patients will have to fight it off on their own. All we can do is give them the best chance possible.”

Your director looks you up and down before letting out a little ‘hm.’ He glances behind him to the infectious disease ward and back to you. “I will not take responsibility when this goes wrong. Looks like we’re taking your direction now, Doctor.” 

Under your instruction, all of the patients in the ward are removed off the antibio cocktail. Much to your Medical Director's annoyance, the death rate begins to improve. You sent word to the other hospitals caring for pandemic patients and they saw similar results. It’s a slow process, and Kix stays by your side every step of the way. The day you discharged your first survivor, you cried. You both did, actually.

It takes a few more weeks, some patients are touch and go. There were still a few deaths, and Kix held you as you cried for them. Then came the day that you got the news. Your patient numbers had reduced so much your little makeshift hospital was going to be closed, and you were being sent back to the Capital Hospital with a new position, no less. Your remaining patients would be transferred along with you and the University was going to be reopened. 

And yet, you weren’t quite happy. Sure you’d basically saved your planet’s population from facing extinction, but you couldn’t revel in it knowing that a certain someone was going to be shipped out. 

“The campaign here is over.” Kix had explained. “And with the pandemic contained, there’s no reason for the medics to stay behind.” 

The 501st was being sent to Ryloth. You knew there was a crisis brewing there, and you were proud that you knew some of the brave men going to help there, but it still stung. It stung the same as your eyes did as you stand on the landing platform, waiting for someone to come say goodbye. 

“There you are.” He says, walking up behind you. 

You sniff slightly, trying to keep tears from pricking at your eyes. “Here I am.” 

You hear a bit of laughter and you notice a group of clone troopers in blue armor across the landing platform that seem very interested in the two of you.

“Don’t pay attention to them.” Kix says, moving in front of you to block them from view. “Brothers…” He mumbles. 

“I get it.” You say, searching his face, what for you’re not quite sure. 

Kix reaches for a pouch on his belt. “I- I have something for you.” He says, sheepishly pressing a box into your hands. 

Looking down you realize it’s a jewelry box. Gently you open the lid and gasp at the sight of what lays inside. Strung on a delicate chain is a single golden pendant of a flower. The same flower that Kix had tucked into your hair all those weeks ago. The same flower that led to the salvation of your planet.

“Kix… I don’t know what to say.” You stammer. 

“Don’t say anything,” he says sweetly. “Just turn around for me.” 

He takes the necklace from the box and gently brushes your hair out of the way before clasping the chain around your neck. Turning back around you can only shake your head and smile at him. 

“I have something for you too.” You say. 

Kix looks at you a little puzzled, he hadn’t seen you holding anything. 

“They’re naming the new wing of the hospital after you.” You explain. “It’ll be like you’re always here. No one will forget what you did for us, for me.” 

Kix gingerly cups your cheek with one hand. “It was an honor and a privilege.”

He’s leaning in again.

This time your lips connect and the landing platform melts away. There’s nothing but him. Him and you. 

Of course your heart has to ruin it as it sinks with the returning thought that he’s literally about to leave and never come back. You break the kiss, but he keeps your foreheads pressed together. 

“What is it?” He breathes.

You can’t help but scoff. “You’re leaving and we’re kissing. I doubt the GAR will give you much time for visits.”

“Hey,” Kix says gently holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s like you said, I’ll always be here, jahaal'got. I will admit I should’ve kissed you sooner.” 

“Hey lovebird! It’s time to go!” One of his brothers shouts.

That manages to get a laugh out of the two of you. 

“I think you have to go.” You mutter.

Kix lets you go and takes a step back. “There’s one more thing, but it’s waiting in your office.” 

He turns to leave, but you reach out and grab his bracer. “Kix. Thank you. For everything.”

With a smile, he leans in to peck you on the cheek before turning and jogging over to the shuttle where his brothers are waiting. 

A grin spreads across your face when you see one with shoulder pauldrons wrap his arm around Kix’s neck to give him a noogie, while another with a top knot of hair claps him on the back. 

The sun is setting by the time you get back to your office. The door slides open with a gentle woosh. It’s a nice space, though somewhat empty as you have yet to move most of your stuff over from your old office. On your desk is a vase of small yellow flowers. You find yourself shaking your head again as you walk closer. 

Kix… when will he stop absolutely melting your heart?

When you didn't think he could surprise you any more, you realize the flowers in the vase are ceramic. Tucked in between some of the delicate blooms is a notecard. You instantly recognize Kix’s swooping handwriting.

‘I think I need to make an appointment with the Doc, I seem to have been bitten by the love bug. (augh, that was awful, Jesse told me it would be good) I hope you like these, you deserve real ones, but had a local artist make them for you since I won’t be around to make sure real ones never wilt.  I’ll see you soon, jahaal'got, on my next shore leave.’

Also Happy Birthday @arctrooper69! (today, May 20th)

#cloneflowerficevent #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #star wars tcw #tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw kix #kix #501st #501st legion #kix x reader #st. john's wort

[heraldofcrow]

I’ve been reading more Eileen centric fics lately and I swear, every time Bloody Crow is the vague background villain that she’s hunting for the entire fic, he’s depicted and especially described as this unhinged serial killer type demon that leaves a trail of mutilated corpses in his wake and murders kids for fun and is the ultimate terror of Yharnam’s foggy nights that WILL hunt you for sport and bathe in your blood.

And I love it and eat it up every time, but I’m starting to get why I may seem a bit whacked in the head for obsessing over him as hard as as I do. I totally forget how much 90% of the fandom hates the guy for being so difficult and hurting Eileen and how they just see him as this monstrous thing because of that. Like yeah, I understand. Not everyone sees him as a scrimblo or whatever. There may be something wrong with me.

#it’s a funny contrast for me because even Alfred isn’t seen as such a maniac by the fandom #so many people love the guy #but Crow is seriously hated and demonized #i mean yes my sadistic ass loves it #but it’s also hilarious because i’m online like #“he is my poor meowmeow babygirl blorbo that has done so much wrong in his life but i forgive him because he is my trash son” #and everyone else is like #“DEMON MONSTER THING CREATURE THAT EATS CHILDREN AND I HATE HIS STUPID FIGHT WTFSHSJSK” #i’m still trying to convert you all though #kuyuan converted me with his tragic art so it can be done lads #in the meantime shoutout to my…three other bloody crow fans 👍 #we’re in this poor state of mental health together 🖤 #bloody crow of cainhurst #bloodborne #CrowNotes

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

#eddie munson the nerd that you are #steddie writers eddie recites tolkien purposely to be annoying so write that down #these always get progressively sadder oh boy #eddie munson #flight of icarus #wayne munson #al munson #ronnie ecker #stranger things #i'm gonna do one more of all the places name dropped and then a deep dive into eddie's d word issues #mp

[teapartyprincess4two]

Vampire- J. Guilbert

pairing: HumanPrincess!reader x Vampire!Johnnie

classification: angst, fluff, Vampire AU

warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content but no smut, mentions of death/ mortality, mentions of biting, mentions of blood, mentions of killing (vampires kill, guys), set in the 14th-17th century Renaissance, mentions of an arranged marriage (to Jake LOL), carriage accident, mention of parental death

inspiration: Vampire by Johnnie Guilbert, not really the lyrics more so the idea of vampire Johnnie 🦇

summary: You’re just a princess who fell in love. The only problem is that he’s a vampire and your father has promised your hand in marriage to someone else.

Vampire (prologue)

—

Johnnie’s ice cold skin dances along your arms, he’s trying to get your attention, but you’re too preoccupied with other things. Your mind was thinking about everything that had to be completed around the village, your father’s nagging words ringing through your head, ‘A princess’s job is never done.’ A plethora of important letters are sprawled out on your desk as you work towards replying to all of them, your feather quill swaying back and forth as your curly letters fill the page.

Johnnie didn’t have to worry about mundane things like this, he was timeless, ageless; responsibilities were a thing of the past for him. Ever since meeting you, Johnnie’s only true responsibility is loving you for as long as he can. He knows that each day is like a grain of sand in an hourglass, counting down towards your inevitable, human death. This is why he’s so adamant on enjoying every moment he can with you. Your royal duties, the village, everyday errands; they were all pointless to him. You were the only thing that mattered.

“I’m busy,” you whisper from your desk chair, but you still lean into his touch. You’re wearing a sheer night gown that leaves little to the imagination, perfectly illuminated by the soft candlelight in the room.

Something about Johnnie was intoxicating to you, you were equally as addicted to him as he was to you. There wasn’t a second of the day when he didn’t flood your thoughts; his touch, his kiss, his smile, his charm, his voice, it was all permanently imbedded in your brain.

Of course you were aware of the harsh reality; Johnnie was a vampire and you were a human, no amount of riches could change that. One day you’d grow old and die with nothing but grey hairs and wrinkles for Johnnie to remember you by. He’d be left to roam the Earth for years to come, while you rot 6 feet under the ground. The thought was scary, but you were still young and you had many years left until your inevitable mortal demise.

“Come lay with me,” his lips kiss your exposed neck, sending a shiver up your spine. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to feel his fangs dig into your flesh. Would he be able to stop himself from sucking the life out of you? Would he bite so hard you break?

“Too much to do,” you whisper back, allowing his hands to wander all over your body as he continued kissing along your neck and collar. He hums in response, your smell becoming too intoxicating for him to handle. If he wanted to, he could easily take a delicious bite out of you.

Over the years, though. Johnnie has learned to suppress his animalistic urges. At first, when he was first converted to this devilish lifestyle, he couldn’t stop himself from going on weeklong killing sprees. His thirst was insatiable and no matter how much blood he drank, he was never able to quench it. He’d massacre entire villages just for a quick snack or lure a victim into a dark alleyway for fun.

When he met you he had to learn to control himself because there was no room for mistake and he would never forgive himself if he hurt you. It was hard at first, all he wanted to do was crook your neck to the side and take a big, satisfying bite out of you. He wanted to drink from you until you turned pale and relish in the sweet taste of your blood. But he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind when he saw how beautiful you were. For once in his life he felt the need to protect something instead of destroying it.

That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t sometimes feel the sudden urge to take a sip from you, it’s like you’re a tall drink of water and he’s been walking through the desert for days. He does it subtlety though; he’ll let his fangs graze over the skin of your neck, he’ll teasingly bite your lip, or he’ll lovingly nip at your arms hard enough draw a little blood. Each time he feels himself become more and more obsessed with you, your blood was intoxicating and he knew nothing else would ever compare.

“Just for a little bit, baby,” he whispers against your neck before whipping you around in your chair. The chair rocks violently, Johnnie’s unmatched strength causing you to face him in seconds. He always had to remind himself to be gentle with you. You were fragile in comparison to him, one wrong move and he’d break you. He takes a long hard look at you, the nightgown you’re wearing providing him the perfect view of your entire silhouette. He fights the urge to rip it off of you entirely.

“Okay, just for a little bit,” you whisper back, allowing his lips to capture yours in a cold, hard kiss. Johnnie always managed to hypnotize you. You felt like you were in a trance, always ready to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. He smirks, extending a cold, pale hand out for you. You take his hand and let him guide you to your large, plush bed.

You lay yourself on the billowy comforter, various expensive pillows surrounding you. Slowly, he joins you, situating himself in between your legs gently. These were the moments that made his immortality feel worth it, the moments he got to spend with you.

“So beautiful, your highness,” he teases, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. You smile back at him, taking his lips in your for a kiss.

—

The next morning you wake to the sound of birds chirping and the sun’s gentle rays dancing over your eyelids. Most of your mornings were peaceful, especially when you spend them with Johnnie. Because he’s a vampire he doesn’t sleep, but he stays with you to make sure nothing or no one hurts you.

A church bell rings loudly in the distance, causing you to jolt up from your bed. Was it really noon already?

After guiding you to bed last night, Johnnie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. This led to a very eventful evening and afterwards you stayed up talking all night. He insisted that you get some sleep, especially because the next morning was extremely important for you. But you, of course, insisted on staying up with him. You didn’t doze off until past midnight, and now you’re waking up late.

It’s an important day for you, well everyday is important for a princess, but you knew you would never hear the end of it from your father. Johnnie is long gone as this point, having left when you fell asleep. Usually he’d stay and be there to greet you in the morning, but he knew what today entailed and he wanted nothing to do with it.

Your father had invited extremely important people to the palace and was working towards marrying you off. In his eyes you were way past wedding age and the longer he kept you around, the more money he was losing. Johnnie overheard the conversation between your dad and one of his confidants one night while watching you sleep, immediately he felt sick to his stomach. The thought of you marrying another man, even looking at another man, sent him into a rage.

Johnnie left you to sleep alone that night, escaping through your window to the nearest village. All he saw was red, both from the anger and from the blood of the victims he took. By the end of it, he didn’t even recognize himself, and when he saw you the next day he felt an immense wave of guilt wash over him. Who was he to be getting this upset over you? You were a human, your life was meant to go on with or without him. If this is how he was reacting to your supposed wedding, how would he react when life took its inevitable toll on you?

You called in your handmaid, Bernadette, as quickly as possible. The two of you rushed to get you ready, throwing on your petty coat before lacing your dress in place. The dress was a beautiful shade of pink and was adorned with pearls along the front collar, it complimented you perfectly.

“Bernadette, what do you think my father has prepared for me today anyways?” you ask as you watch Bernadette through the mirror, she’s braiding your hair and pinning it up against your head in an intricate hairstyle. “Don’t know, ma’am,” she replies with a smile, meeting your gaze in the mirror briefly before returning to your hair. You were completely unaware of your father’s plans, if you knew he was planning to marry you off you would’ve run away immediately, but you don’t know and that’s the worst part.

After you finish getting ready, both you and Bernadette make your way to the dining room. Your father is there eating lunch, accompanied by two other gentleman.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” your father comments, watching as you hurriedly enter the room. The clacking of your heels against the marble floor catches the attention of the other men at the table, both of them standing from their seats immediately to greet you.

You notice the first man, he’s young and extremely muscular, and he looks very regal in his suit. You’d even go as far as to say that he was handsome, his black hair framing his face perfectly. The man on the left of him is much older, still handsome, but definitely the first man’s father.

“Y/n, meet Prince Webber and his father. He’s been waiting for your descent all morning,” your father says in a sardonic tone, motioning for you to properly greet the two men. You elegantly walk over to them, taking Prince Webber’s extended hand before bowing. “Princess,” he greets with a bow, offering you a kind smile. You return the smile before greeting his father in the same manner.

“Take a seat, please,” you insist as you rush over to sit by your father who’s sitting at the foot of the table. You’re directly in front of Prince Webber now, his eyes trained on you as you get comfortable in your seat. You lean forward as you pull your chair in, giving him the perfect view of your pearl adorned chest. He notices how beautiful you are and suddenly he’s fine with an arranged marriage.

Your father waits impatiently for you to stop moving, he’s a busy man who hates how much you love to dilly-dally. He wasn’t always like this, though, he used to have fun and be extremely affectionate towards you. But he turned cold the day your mother died. Her death was sudden and violent, so many other people died in the castle that day at the hands of a ravaging vampire. Sometimes you wondered if Johnnie had done it, but you were too afraid to ask.

Ever since that day your dad has loathed vampires and has made it his mission to kill every single one. This turned your kingdom from a happy place to a dark, evil one. He became unrelenting and merciless, killing even those who he only suspected were vampires. Every single one of the villagers became afraid to leave their homes, they were scared to die at the hands of a vampire or of your father.

This is why Johnnie only ever comes to visit you at night, if your dad ever found him wandering around the palace he’d certainly put a stake through his heart. So, every morning as the sun began to rise, Johnnie escaped through your window and trudged home until night came again.

Finally when you’re comfortable your father speaks, “Y/n, you and Prince Webber will be spending the day together chaperoned by Bernadette. It’s imperative that you two get acquainted.” You’re confused, why was it so imperative that you spend an entire day with Prince Webber?

You send your father a confused look before replying, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but why is it so imperative?” A servant places your meal in front of you, briefly asking if you needed anything else. “No im fine, thank you,” you reply quickly, offering the servant a small smile before turning expectantly towards your father. Prince Webber looks shocked, how do you not know?

Your father is cutting a piece of ham on his plate, picking it up with his forks as he replies, “You two are getting married.” He takes a bite of the ham, how could he state it so causally, so blatantly?

You’re about to protest, but he interjects, “Do not throw a fit, Y/n. The arrangements have been made, you will be wed within a week.” Your eyes are blown open in shock as you attempt to process the information, why was this the first time you’re hearing about this? How were you going to marry someone you didn’t even know? How were you going to tell Johnnie?

“Close your mouth, Y/n. You’ll catch a fly,” your father comments. You didn’t even know what to say, you just close your mouth and look at the food in front of you. You felt bad for Prince Webber, he was a handsome man who didn’t deserve a reaction like the one you just had. But you’re not in love with him, if you could have it your way you would’ve had Johnnie bite you long ago.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” you whisper, holding back the tears. How had this become your future? You push yourself up from your seat, grabbing the front of your dress as you run towards your room. Your father calls after you angrily, but you don’t turn back, you can’t turn back. You need to get into your room, pack as many of your things as possible and leave.

Bernadette follows closely behind you, worried for you, but also scared of what your father might do if you don’t return to the dining room. “Miss Y/n!” her words fall on deaf ears, you’ve locked yourself in your room. You fall onto the edge of the bed, sobbing profusely. If you didn’t manage to leave by tonight, your father would definitely marry you off tomorrow morning to prevent any more obstacles.

“Miss Y/n?” Bernadette asks timidly from the other side of the door. You sniffle, looking towards the door and debating whether or not you should let her in. You trusted Bernadette with your life, but right now you didn’t know whose side she was on. Was she going to comfort you and help you pack your bags? Or was she going to knock some sense into you and drag you back into the dining room?

She’s never betrayed you before, so you decide to let her in. You crawl towards the door, opening it slowly for her to squeeze through. She quickly makes her way inside before shutting the door, locking it in the process.

“What’s wrong, ma’am?” she coos, joining you on the floor as she brings you into a comforting hug.

“I can’t marry him, Bernadette,” you sob, holding onto her for dear life. She rubs your back and pats your head, not fully understanding why you’re so upset, “Why not? He seems handsome enough.” Her comment causes you to laugh through the sobs, she always managed to make you feel better.

After your mother passed Bernadette took on the motherly role in your life. She was always a present, constant figure in your life even when your mother was alive, but now that she’s gone Bernadette is all you have. She’s watched you grow and has protected you from many tongue lashings from your father. When you’re sick, she’s quick to nurse you to health and when you’re sad she’s there to console you.

“He is handsome,” you agree, wiping away the few stray tears that rolled down your face. “But I’m not in love with him.”

She looks at you confused, as far as she knows you’re not in love with anyone, so what did it matter if you didn’t love Prince Webber. You’d grow to love him in time, she’s sure of it, “you could grow to love him, ma’am.”

You sigh, looking down at your lap and messing with the ruffles of your dress. “No, Bernadette, I couldn’t,” you reply with a sniffle, shaking your head as you try fighting the tears again. She can sense that there’s something you’re not telling her, a secret that you’ve kept hidden well enough for her not to find out. Bernadette takes your hands in hers, pulling your gaze from your lap to her eyes, “What’s bothering you, Miss Y/n?”

“I’m in love, Bernadette.”

Her face lights up with excitement as she brings you in for another embrace, “Oh, Miss Y/n! That is wonderful news!” Your arms remain in your lap, limp and unable to feel any sense of joy.

“With a vampire,” you whisper.

—

When the sun sets Johnnie is quick to visit you, climbing in through your window and leaning against it, watching as you feverishly pack your bags. You’re throwing in random dresses, undergarments, and trinkets from around your room. He knows what you’re doing, he expected you to do this from the moment he heard your father that fateful night.

“Johnnie, I need you to help me,” you say, immediately noticing his presence by the window. He doesn’t move from his spot, he just continues watching as you pile in garment after garment into your suitcase. You stop what you’re doing and meet his gaze, he looks upset and sad. “Help me, please,” you reiterate, but he still doesn’t say anything.

A part of him knows that if he does help you, you’ll run away with him and spend the remainder of your life with him. Although he loved the idea, there was a part of him that feared you’d be unsatisfied at a life with him. There were certain things he couldn’t provide for you; he’d never be able to give you children, warm you up on a cold night, or even grow old with you. If he managed to convince you to go through with this arranged marriage, you’d get all of that plus some. Of course he hates the thought, but what else was there to do?

“Johnnie, please,” you beg, your eyes are pleading for him to take just one step closer to you. A singular step to let you know that he’s still with you, no matter your differences. “What are you doing?” he asks coldly, putting up a protective wall. He’s bound to get hurt no matter the outcome, the least he can do is try and protect his feelings.

“I’m running away with you.”

Johnnie finally takes a step towards you, “I never asked you to do that.”

You’re shocked by his words, was this the same man who was begging you to lay with him just last night? The same man who learned to measure his strength to prevent himself from breaking you? The same man who rejected his animalistic nature so he wouldn’t devour you? You thought he’d be happy at the news, happy that you finally wouldn’t have to hide.

“What are you saying?” you asked, the tears brimming once again. You were tired of crying, you hated crying. Johnnie had never made you cry before. “Marry him,” he replies, picking your bag up and dumping all your clothes back onto the bed. You watch in horror, why was he throwing you to the side so easily? Was there someone else?

“Johnnie, don’t do this. Please,” you beg, searching his eyes for a sign. But they’re as cold as ever, piercing yours in a stone cold stare. His jaw clenches as he breaks from your gaze, if he looked at you for too long he was sure to break. If he was going to do this he needed to make it quick and painless.

“Y/n, it was nice while it lasted, but I could never love you. Did you think that those nights I spent here were because of love? They were for pleasure. I needed satisfaction and you were the first to provide it,” his words are venomous, they sink into your brain and infect it with so many thoughts. All the nights you two spent together flash before your eyes, had they really meant nothing to him?

“I’m a monster, Y/n. My sole purpose on this Earth is to kill, I was never made for love. So, don’t wait for me because I won’t be coming around anymore. Marry him,” the last part comes out as a command, but it’s laced with sadness. You’re too out of it to notice.

You watch in shock as he escapes out the window. As quickly as he came, he went. He was lost in the night and you weren’t sure when you’d see him again.

—

The air surrounding you is chaotic; wedding bells are ringing, servants are whizzing past you as they attempt to ready everything for the reception, and your father won’t stop bossing people around. It’s exactly a week after you found out about your arranged marriage, exactly a week since you’ve last seen Johnnie. The first night was agony, you felt like you were going through withdrawal of him, waking up in cold sweats and reaching for him in your bed only to find that it’s empty. The second night was worse, you stayed up staring at the ceiling, occasionally looking towards the window in hopes that he’d magically appear. By the third night you’d lost all hope, you were delirious from the loss of sleep and began hallucinating Johnnie. You were losing your mind.

Johnnie was struggling even worse, the second he left your room that night he went in search of the closest village he could find. He wasn’t even hungry, just mad. He quickly made his rounds around the village, leaving nothing but wind chimes to make noise. By the end of it he was covered in blood, trudging back to his castle as the sadness finally set in. He didn’t know what he was thinking when he told you to marry that prince, he should’ve helped you pack your bags and carried you to a life where only you two mattered.

“Are you ready, ma’am?” Bernadette asks with a big smile, this is an exciting milestone for you in her eyes. She can sense your sadness, and after your last confession, she finally understands why. But she doesn’t want to make you cry, especially not after taking so long on your hair and makeup, so she puts on a positive demeanor. You’re looking out your window in hopes to see Johnnie one last time, your veil blows with the wind and the sun reflects on your shimmery white gown.

You inhale sharply, turning away from the window, “yes.” You were just going to have to get this over with, come to terms with your new life, and forget about Johnnie forever.

Bernadette guides you downstairs and out to the courtyard where a large carriage is waiting for you. It’s a beautiful white carriage, complete with two spotted horses. If you weren’t so sad you might’ve appreciated it. Prince Webber is waiting next to it, watching as his beautiful bride to be slowly walks towards the carriage.

“You look beautiful,” he comments as soon as you’re close enough to head, opening the door and helping you inside. You offer him a weak smile as you make your way inside. It wasn’t his fault you were marrying him, but you couldn’t help but resent him. He follows you shortly after, sitting on the seat opposite you. Your large, puffy dress takes up most of the space, but he figures it out.

The ride to the church is bumpy, long and awkward. The horse’s neigh with each whip from the conductor, picking up their speed only to lull back into a steady pace. The prince attempts to make small talk, but you’re unrelenting. You hated every second of it, you couldn’t even meet Prince Webber’s eyes. You felt bad for resenting him, but your heartbreak somehow felt like his fault. It felt like the carriage was slowly closing in around you, as the realization dawned on you that were being trapped in a loveless marriage with someone you didn’t even know up until a week ago.

The prince can sense your pain and instead of becoming upset, he sympathizes with you. He didn’t ask for this either, but he’s trying to make the best of a bad situation. He’s glad you’re beautiful, he’s glad you’re in tune with your emotions, and he’s glad that you two will have the rest of forever to fall in love. Maybe you don’t love him now, but one day you’ll learn to love him and that to him was enough.

He’s about to ask you a question as the conductor guides the carriage over an even rockier path than before, causing the wheels to skid a little. You hold onto the walls, bracing yourself for any further impact. “Careful out there!” Prince Webber exclaims, slapping the ceiling to get the conductor’s attention.

The ride steadies again, earning a relieved sigh from the both of you. The air calms down and he prepares to engage in conversation again, but the carriage goes over a large pile of rocks, causing it to lean dramatically. You let out a little scream, once again holding onto the walls to prevent yourself from coming in contract with the walls.

“Are you okay?” he asks once the carriage steadies again. He was going to have to have a long talk with this conductor once the ride was over, possibly even fire him.

“Yes I’m fine-“

The carriage wheels hit another pile of rocks, causing it to skid off the path and roll over. The two of you are now rolling full speed down a mountain screaming in terror as you attempt to anchor yourself. Dirt and debris comes in through the window, hitting you on the face and dirtying your dress.

The carriage tumbles into a valley, slapping against the wall of another mountain with a loud bang. The hit is brutal, it causes your body to collide with the edge of your seat and the wall of the carriage. You’re dazed, looking towards the Prince for help, but he’s out cold.

A stream of blood trickles down his forehead and you’re sure that if you evaluate yourself you’re bleeding too.

—

Johnnie could smell your blood from a mile away, he knew you better than anyone. He tried pushing you out of his head, but he knew you were getting married today so his mind was flooded with thoughts of you. Then, when he smelled your blood, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. But the smell was so potent he could practically taste it.

Immediately he rushed out of his castle, following your scent as he searched for you. It felt like a hunt, like you were his prey and he was the hungry predator ready for his next meal. But he had to remind himself that you weren’t a meal, you were the love of his life.

He sped down the rocky trail that led to the church, following horse and carriage tracks until he couldn’t find them anymore. You were so close he could sense you, but he couldn’t see you. Johnnie looked around frantically in search for you, he was becoming more and more desperate to find you. The thought of you being hurt was enough to send him into a frenzy, but he had to control himself.

His feet guided him towards the edge of the cliff, creeping close enough to look down without falling. That’s when he saw it, a broken and battered carriage sitting right on the edge of the valley. He felt his heart drop, his mind racing and coming up with the worst possible scenarios. Without a second thought he hurried towards the carriage, expertly jumping down from the cliff.

Frantically he pulled pieces of wood, metal, and rocks apart. He was becoming desperate, he knew you were buried deep under the debris but he couldn’t seem to reach you fast enough. “Please, please,” he begged repeatedly, praying to whatever god there was that you were okay. If you weren’t, he would never forgive himself.

Johnnie pulls the last, largest piece of wood off of you. He falls to his knees when he finally sees you, immediately checking for a pulse. You’re covered in dirt and blood, but he doesn’t feel the urge to bite you, he’s too overwhelmed with sadness and guilt.

He picks you up in his arms, your limp body feeling cold for the first time since he’s met you. A tear rolls down his cheek, the first tear he’s shed in his whole immortal life. He feels helpless, he lost you and there’s nothing he can do. An existence without you doesn’t mean anything to him, he’s going to roam the earth without the love of his life by his side and it’s all his fault.

There’s only one thing he can think to do, the one thing he never wanted to do; bite you, infect you with his venom in hopes that you’d wake up. In hopes that you’d get another chance at forever with him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing your lips one last time before turning your head to the side. He’s sorry that he has to cross this boundary with you just to bring you to life, he’s sorry that he left you alone that night to deal with your feelings, he’s sorry that he fell in love with you. Johnnie felt incredibly selfish for what he was about to do, he was about to possibly rob you of a mortal existence for his own personal desires.

Slowly he sinks his fangs into your neck, drawing a little blood before pumping his venom into you. He’s not even sure if it’ll work, but it’s worth a try. He reluctantly draws away from you, wanting to savor your sweet blood a little longer, but if he drinks any more you won’t wake up.

30 minutes pass by and you’re still laying lifeless in Johnnie’s arms. He’s lost all hope at this point, he feels so stupid, so guilty, so selfish. He was the lion that fell in love with the lamb, chasing it towards death then wondering why it stopped running.

“I love you, Y/n. Please, please wake up,” he whispers desperately, his forehead flush against yours before he goes in for another kiss. He doesn’t know what else to do, he’s grasping at straws at this point. .

The kiss, along with the venom pumping through your veins, awakens something in you as you gasp for air. As soon as you open your eyes, you’re met with Johnnie looking back at you. He’s immediately relieved, engulfing you in the tightest embrace ever.

“Johnnie?”

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, pulling away from the hug and taking your face in his cold hands. “Never scare me like that again.”

“I won’t,” you whisper back, shaking your head feverishly and kissing him again.

“Good, you have forever to keep that promise.” You two would have an eternity to love each other, lifetimes and eons to live alongside each other. Everything else around you could rot, but as long as you had each other, life was perfect.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

I would like to preface that Prince Webber is alive and well at the end, I just didn’t feel like writing in all the details of his story towards the end sorry. Enjoy this quick fic and listen to the song! Love u honey bunchesssss

Kk byeeee

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert <3 #jake webber x you #jake webber x reader #jake and johnnie #jake webber #i love my emo boyfriend #Johnnie Guilbert #vampire Johnnie Guilbert #vampire

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

How Much Do Turtles Weigh?

Steven Grant x GN!Reader x Marc Spector • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: You visit the aquarium with Steven and Marc.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: I got so excited when I remembered the lighting in ep 4 because I thought, 'Ahhhh, possible aquarium lighting?'

Warnings: TURTLES, London (ew, jk I live in this country), Steven's been feeling a little low, reader doing some mental maths, Marc and Steven not knowing how to convert kg to pounds, Marc admitting he doesn't understand currency conversion, swearing, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 618

“Oh my god!” Steven giggled, eyes wide as the turtle swam right in front of you. “She’s so pretty!” 

You grinned, taking some quick (and blurry) photos before leaning to the side to try to see further into the tank. 

“I think she’s gone behind those rocks,” Steven said, still smiling from ear to ear. 

You nod, “she's massive! Like, I know they’re big, but wow, they’re big!” 

“And their fins!” He chimes in.

“Like dinosaurs!”

He laughs and wraps his arm around you, squeezing you tight. “Thank you for bringing me here, love.” 

You hug him back. “Of course, well, really I had an ulterior motive.” You say playfully. 

Steven immediately plays along, giving you a look of mock shock. “Really?” 

“Hmm,” you nod, all conspiratorial. “Well, two actually, first,” you lean a little closer. “I wanted to go to the aquarium.” 

He chuckles. “And the second?” 

You smile at him and kiss his cheek. “I love seeing you happy.” 

The tips of his ears blush a rosy pink and he hugs you fully this time, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. 

Normally, you weren’t a massive fan of public displays of affection. But the bonus of going out in the middle of a weekday in February meant that for the London Seaslife Centre, it was actually quite quiet. 

But you would have hugged him back even if the place was full to the brim. That was one of the many special things about Steven, he always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

He kisses your cheek, only loosening his grip and whispering in your ear, “she’s back.” He pointed to the glass and you smile as you both watched the turtle swim past again. 

You noticed the small twitch in his hands, his grip changing for a moment, tightening before relaxing. 

Marc kisses your temple. “Thank you for taking Steven out baby.” 

You nuzzle against his jaw. 

“He’s been feeling a bit down lately,” Marc speaks close to your skin, “I know you know that but…”

“Yeah.” You nod, you understand what he means.

“Holy shit,” Marc laughs, “that turtle is amazing! What the fuck are they feeding it?”

You giggle in his arms.

“160kg?” Marc frowns, looking at his reflection in the glass, “what’s that mean?” 

“About 350 pounds,” you answer, doing some very dodgy mental maths.

“Fuck me.” He chuckles, “also thank you, Steven had no idea what the conversion rate was.” He paused. “And neither do I.”

“It’s about 0.45 I think.”

He gave you a look. A mixture of suspicious and impressed. “How do you know that?”

You shrug. “No idea.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright.” 

You both turn back to the tank.

“You’ve lived here for long enough Spector, I would have thought you’ve got the hang of kg and stone by now.” You tease. 

Marc pulls a face. “I still get confused when I’m paying in pounds.” 

“What?” You laugh. 

“Yeah,” he gives you a sheepish smile. “I always forget that $1 isn’t £1. So I’ll go ‘wow, things are so much cheaper here.’” 

“Idiot.” You giggle. 

“Fair.” 

“Give it another 6 months though, I’m sure the pound will fall some more.” 

Marc snorted. “You’ll be thankful for my strong, American dollars then.” 

“Oh, definitely.” 

“I’m really upset love,” Steven said, his tone making it clear he was playing, “I told Marc to make an absolutely brilliant innuendo about ‘strong, American currency’.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah! And he won’t say it!”

You giggle. “No?” 

“No.” 

“I’m shocked.”

“Appalled,” Steven added, keeping his arm around your shoulders as you both began to walk to the next part. “I’m gonna have to tell you instead…” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho @silver-night-m @apesarecuul

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#moon knight events #moon knight bingo 2024 #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[tsimvkas]

kicked out — mason mount.

A/N: as a liverpool fan who uses football to cope with life this is just something i wrote to deal with yesterday’s game and it probably won’t please everyone xx

word count: 2.7k

content: reader is a liverpool fan, very slightly angst, fluff and suggestive language at the end

“Babe?” Mason’s voice sounded through the phone, and you hated how your eyes instantly filled up with tears. It’s not his fault. “I’m going home now, where are you?”

“I’m going home, Mase” you sighed, trying to control your breathing.

“Like, your home? In Liverpool?” you could picture him frowning, and your heart sank.

The last thing you wanted was to disappoint your boyfriend, but you were so naive to think you could go through this without letting it affect the version of you who grew up with your club.

“I thought you’d probably want to go out with the team after a massive win” you told him, trying not to sound ironic.

“No actually. I was planning to come back home with you like we agreed to?”

“I’m sorry. The game was a lot to me” you mumbled, still feeling moody about it.

You and Mason only started dating about six months ago, when he was enjoying a night out in Liverpool with some teammates. The fact that both cities are close brought him to your favorite club, and you were able to keep talking and seeing each other.

Since he’s been injured for a while, Mason didn’t play in the last North West Derby at Anfield, and the pair of you never talked about what to do when he got to face your team.

Until now, the fact that you’re a Liverpool fan never seemed to annoy Mason, but you know today was important to him and you know he’s right in getting angry.

It’s just that you weren’t able to control your feelings. You thought you would be, since you were there for him and not for your team, but the knot on your throat grew impossibly bigger by the third goal, and when United scored the fourth you just knew you had to leave.

It wasn’t a simple victory. 1-0, or something like that. Liverpool was ahead twice, and still lost it. For a few minutes you thought you were winning the game, and the fact that you didn’t just crashed your entire world, even though you told yourself you wouldn’t let the result bother you, for him, the pep talk was useless at the final whistle.

“Are you being serious?” he snorted, and you know how much you annoyed him. It was supposed to be a happy come back, even more now that he just won the game. “It’s not my fault your team wasn’t able to convert all the chances they had into goals! It’s not my fault they were leading the game twice and still weren’t good enough to win. I just came back from a fucking injury to play only fifteen minutes and you can’t even pretend you’re happy for me”

“Of course I’m happy for you?” you gasped, your eyes burning painfully. “I never said it was your fault, Mason. The whole point of me going back home for a while is to not dump my frustration on you” your voice trembled, and you were glad your friend was driving you home or you probably wouldn’t be able to get there safely.

“Well, Y/N, guess what. You agreed to come today, of course one of us would lose” his voice was harsh and you knew he was upset, and now you don’t even know why you thought that leaving was a good idea. “You should be prepared to see your team bottling”

“You’re being rude”

“Am I? You just left me alone when I planned an entire night for you. Who is driving you home, anyway? A fucking Liverpool player?”

“I only left so you wouldn’t feel guilty about being happy!” you tried not to raise your voice. “For God’s sake, I’m not trying to be dramatic. I’m not trying to say ‘by the way Mase, I know you’re happy but I’m so sad, can we talk about me and I’ll make you feel miserable about winning?’, I just thought it was the right thing to do”

“Mission failed, I still feel miserable about winning” he laughed sarcastically.

“It wasn’t my intention!”

“But you did it anyway, Y/N” he snorted again. “Whatever. I was happy to be back on the pitch and get to spend the night with you, and now it’s ruined”

“I’m sorry for ruining your night”

“Yeah, ‘I’m sorry’ won’t make it great again”

“Honestly Mason, I won’t sit and listen to you being rude. I won’t beg for you to forgive me. You know damn well this is the first time we face each other and it’s so unfair that you expect me to know how to react. I love you more than anything and you know that. I just- I’ve been loving Liverpool since I was born and I never thought I’d have to see my man and my club on opposite sides”

For a few seconds Mason didn’t reply and you started to regret what you’ve said, but then his sharp words came out and you wished you hadn’t accepted his call.

“I should’ve imagined this would happen when I decided to talk to a scouser” he laughed sarcastically. “Maybe things would be easier if the boys had choose a Manchester club that night”

It took you a second to understand what he was saying,

“So you’re saying things would be easier if you were dating a United fan instead?” you slowly asked.

Mason didn’t seem to think before he spoke, something unusual to him and that just proves how frustrated he was.

“Of course they would be easier, she would be happy when I’m subbed in, happy I’m back on the pitch. She would always be cheering for me no matter what”

“First of all, I’m always cheering for you. Even today. Even today, Mason, everything I wanted was to see you happy. I couldn’t control how I reacted to losing that way, but if I could you bet I’d be celebrating that fucking goal like it was my own team’s” you felt your face heating up, and you choke on your words. “You know what, just go to a Manny club next time then”

When you turned off the phone, your friend was already in front of your house.

You thanked her, apologising for the scene and ran inside, looking for the comfort of your room before you could let yourself break down.

—

You thought it was a mistake when the sound of your doorbell broke the silence, groaning before reaching for your phone to check the hours. Instead, all you saw was dozens of lost calls from Mason, Luke and even from your best friend.

Thinking it could be her, worried that you weren’t answering her calls, you got up and walked towards the door, quickly opening.

“Is that necessary?” you moaned, before Mason’s face entered your vision, making your entire body go stiff.

“It is” he simply answered, making you frown. Mason was visibly tired and sleepy, hands on the holes on his hoodie. “We need to talk”

“I don’t wanna talk. It’s- 2am, Mason”

“Are these yesterday’s clothes?” he asked, slowly entering the house.

Your face heated up when you remembered that you hadn’t showered or changed your clothes. You had just been crying since you’ve gotten home, curled up on your bed.

“What do you want, Mason?” you felt yourself on the verge of tears again, even though you probably had no more tears left to cry. “First you tell me you wish you were dating a United fan and then you think it’s a good idea to show up at my door during the night?”

“I never said I wished this, I said it would be easier” he pointed, and you knew he was looking at you, but your eyes were on the floor.

“Same thing”

“Of course not! The fact it would be easier doesn’t mean I wish it was easier. I was angry and frustrated, and you had just put a football team before your boyfriend” he sighed, and the last thing you wanted was to make him angry again. “Just- let’s talk, yeah?”

“Look Mase, I know you’re upset and you have every right to be but we’re in the middle of the night. I think it’s better if we talk tomorrow. Trust me, I already feel awful enough for ruining your night, we don’t need to argue right now”

“Don’t feel sorry about it” he shook his head, closing the door behind him and reaching out to hug your body and you let him. “And we’re not arguing. I was with Luke after the gas and he made me think- I guess he said ‘if United had lost today, how would you face your happy girlfriend? Would you go back home and watch her smiling over something that’s making you sad?’, and then I thought that if the result was the opposite I’d probably cancel on you, not because I don’t love you but simply because I’d want to spend the rest of the night in my room thinking about what had just happened”

You nodded against his chest, your shoulders finally relaxing.

“I guess we underestimated how one of us would feel about the loss” he sighed. “Which is normal to happen since it was our first time doing this, but we need to set some rules if we want this to work. I’ll face Liverpool many more times, princess, we’ll need a script for those weekends”

“I’ll need half an hour alone after a loss” you pulled away and looked at him after thinking for a few seconds.

“Good. You still coming to Old Trafford matches?” he brushed your cheek and you nodded. “Then you want to drive to my house on your own or the time inside the stadium counts to your thirty minutes?”

“It counts”

“I think we can agree that thirty minutes after every game is needed, huh? And when the match is at Anfield, you can meet me at home, since I’ll go back with the team. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea”

“Great, glad that we agree. Now undo the pout, give me a kiss” he brushed his nose on yours. “And let’s get you changed”

“What, my Liverpool jersey is bothering you?” you teased, cocking your head to the side.

Mason raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. “I prefer my girl in my jersey, yes. But right now I want you comfortable on your pyjamas so we can sleep”

You cupped his face, pecking his lips.

“C’mon babe, I just drove forty minutes thinking we were over. I deserve a proper kiss”

“I want to sort myself out first” you pouted, which made him chuckle. “Haven’t left my room since I came home”

“Oh, my poor princess” he kissed you cheek,

“Why did you come in the middle of the night instead of coming in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep” he shrugged. “Then I got afraid that I wouldn’t have a relationship to save by morning”

“Silly. It was just an argument, Mase”

“You told me to go to a Manny club next time. For me to have a next time, you’d have to break up with me”

“I’m sorry I got you worried when there’s nothing to worry about. We fight, and we talk and we move on. You’ll always have a relationship to save after every argument” you stroked his chin, smiling when he leaned his head against your hand. “Let’s sleep, yeah? My baby is so tired”

Complementing your words, Mason yawned before quickly putting you on his shoulder, despite all of your complaints, and heading to your room.

You left him in your bed and took a shower, feeling refreshed and relaxed. Wrapped in your towel, you faced the hoodie Mason had left hanging in your bathroom a few days ago when he visited, staring at it for a few seconds.

You took a deep breath, your face heating with the idea of anyone seeing what you were about to do. Taking the hoodie, you closed your eyes and counted to three before quickly wearing it.

You were feeling slightly shy when you left the bathroom and walked to your bed, but it vanished when Mason dropped his phone on his face after looking at you.

“What are you wearing?” he breathed, and you smiled when you noticed how his breath hitched in his throat.

“I’m using my boyfriend’s hoodie” you shrugged, as the white fabric and United’s shield in red didn’t bother you. When you laid down next to him, you frowned. “What are you wearing?”

“I’m using the only pyjamas I could find at my girlfriend’s house” he smiled sheepishly, making you giggle. “She doesn’t have clothes big enough for me, so I had to take some from her sports wardrobe”

“And the only thing you found there were Liverpool’s trousers?” you raised an eyebrow, not buying his excuse.

“I’m not the scouser wearing a ManUnited hoodie, bug” Mason giggled, hugging you.

“Shut up”

“You’re so pretty. It looks so good on you, it’s insane” he kissed the tip of your nose. “I know what you’re trying to prove, yeah? And I appreciate it”

“I’m always cheering for you” you murmured, cupping his face so you could kiss him properly. The way Mason sighed at the feeling of your lips made your entire body shiver.

You let yourself melt against the sheets, giving the control to him and smiling at how caring and lovingly he kissed you.

“I know” he whispered, pulling away to catch his breath. “And I’m so sorry I insinuated you’re not. I hope you know I wouldn’t want you to act different, I wouldn’t want anyone else but you. I love you exactly how you are and I’m so glad I got to say I have a girlfriend as supportive as you”

You smudge his face in kisses, feeling overwhelmed with how deeply you can love someone.

“I’ll always be there for you. But if you ever score against us…” you giggled, and Mason instantly rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say it” he warned, your cheeky smile giving you away.

“Sex strike!”

Mason groaned, his hands slipping underneath the hoodie so he could tickle your waist, making you laugh. “You can’t resist me not even when you try”

“Yeah? Try me. Score a goal then” you teased him, your lips brushing against his.

Mason stared into your eyes for a few seconds and you broke eye contact to peck his lips.

“Next game” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your jaw and laying half of his body on top of yours. “I’m gonna fuck your team, and then I’m gonna fuck you”

You giggled, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Mason, who are you trying to fool? You’re so sleepy after a game you won’t be able to drive home let alone fuck me”

“Thirty minutes after every game, remember? All I need is a thirty minutes nap” he shrugged like he just told you the solution to all of his problems, and you couldn’t help but laugh harder.

“I love you” you told him, your chest feeling heavy with the immensity of your feelings.

“More than Liverpool?”

“Know your limits” you rolled your eyes, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes you thought Mason was asleep, tracing his features with the pad of your finger. “Yeah. Yeah, more than Liverpool”

“I love you more than any club in the world” his groggy voice made your body jump slightly. “Even more than football itself, I fear”

At the end of the day, when you’re both tangled like this, just enjoying each other’s presence and being happy to spend a quiet time together, is when you understand that wearing your rivals’ jersey is nothing compared to what your relationship brings you.

“I’m proud of you” you kissed his head, your heart full of adoration. “It was the game’s best fifteen minutes”

Mason giggled, squeezing your waist and brushing a kiss to your neck.

“I loved the feeling of being back. But if I’m being honest, then it was nothing compared to how I feel when our legs are crossed and you’re scratching my head”

“I know” you smiled. “Nothing beats this feeling for me too”

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluffy #mason mount angst #mason mount imagines #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Recs - Month 4 August 16 - Sept 15

I think is my favourite rec list for this little project so far. It has some of my all time favourite Buddie fics on it, fics that I've read over and over again because they just bring me so much joy.

Previous lists linked at the bottom!

0-5k

here (in your arms) by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 2.3k I have had THE WORST day. When I finally get home, I’m going to pass out and sleep like a rock, and then I want to wake up with you inside me.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 3.9k Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

5k-10k

but i've got my teeth in you by oklahoma / @sunshinediazTeen | 5.5k bad things happen bingo—tooth knocked out

you're the cream in my coffee by 42hrb Explicit | 8.6k Buddie coffee shop AU where everything is different, but they’re still idiots in love

wood you be mine? by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 9k the Lumberjack Buck fic.

10k-20k

With Great Power Comes Great Pining by Princessfbi / @princessfbi Teen | 10.4k It was the lightning strike. That had to be it. It was the only logical conclusion. Though, when it comes to being able to suddenly read people’s minds, Buck supposed there wasn’t a whole lot of logic involved.

endless numbered days by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Gen | 13.1k When a big event in the lives of the members of the 118 falls on the same weekend as Bobby's late son's birthday, Bobby finds himself reflecting on grief, fatherhood, and life after loss. 

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril / @runawaymarbles Mature | 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

Say Yes, and Figure It Out Afterwards by catwalksalone Explicit | 13.3k Buck and Eddie figure out a mutually beneficial way to deal with the first responder post-trauma cycle of up-horny-down.

Share the Joy by TalkNerdyToMe6 Teen | 14.2k After the lightning strike, Buck discovers he has more than just the ability to do long division in his head. Every time he touches Eddie, everything the other man is feeling moves through him like a wave of emotion, there and gone again. Buck can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.

20k - 30k

light through the wave tips by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Explicit | 21.9k When Buck and Eddie planned a vacation with their kids over a year ago, they hadn’t exactly planned on bringing a seven-month-old baby along with them. Surely wrangling three kids can't be too much of a challenge—that is, if it weren't for Christopher's steadily worsening mood.

Cutting The Ties That Bind by kristen999 / @thekristen999 Mature | 34.4k Evan Buckley was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines like everyone else. Sometimes he used intimation. While using the very same tactics he was trying to end while converting his family business into legitimate operations was a little hypocritical, it was the results that mattered.

Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. That all changed the day his breaks were tampered with. Enter Eddie Diaz, security specialist, who was not easily impressed by Buck’s expensive suits or financial conquests. That was okay. Buck enjoyed a challenge.

30k +

family (portrait) by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Teen | 45.1k realizing that the family that you need has been beside you all along.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 51.1k evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 79.8 Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica

what a heart can do by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Teen | 85.5k In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15)

#Buddie #rec list #buddie rec list #buddie hiatus rec list #911 #seriously i've reread like a dog with a bird at your door like 9 times #and being eddie?? it changed me as a human #and don't get me started on the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love

[saytrrose]

Can we see More about your racing AU please?

Looks so amazing and i love It so much

I do suppose I could share the character design line up!

I really just need to finish designing all the go karts, (atleast most are done!) and then I can make proper cards for them and really get into the written details.

To be honest it’s a little hard to just ramble about info and details without specific questions to go off of, so I’ll try my best hhh

for starters, the tent? Not a tent!

It’s actually a stadium, the amazing digital race!

And rooms? Sort of tweaked, they are more like each character owns a personal garage, a large open space where they store their vehicles and then have a loft above that showcases their cozy safe havens. Bed, entertainment, basically a small room in a much larger one.

I haven’t revealed Ragatha, Zooble or Gangles karts yet but I’ll go ahead and just talk about all of them!

Caine:

Caine has a motorcycle, specifically one inspired off of the motorcycle I’m saving up for this summer, a Kawasaki Eliminator. It’s a cruiser, I’m thinking he has a 600cc model but considering Bubble is his right hand man and operates as the races pit crew- he’s definitely tinkered with Caines bike, making adjustments and improving the engine. God only knows what the little psycho did, but it’s a damn good bike that’s not supposed to rev as loud as it does.

Pomni:

Her kart is inspired off a Volkswagen Beetle, seemed very VERY Pomni to me. Her car mimics her outfit design a lot, I might do some color changes to be honest but it will be super minimal, it’ll be final when the cards are done! She definitely stops at the pit the most often despite her placement in a race, are my tires okay?? Do I need my oil?? I know you just filled it but it went down- is anything damaged?? Sweetie you did one lap..

Jax:

Jesus Christ he has a giant supercharger on the hood of his car, and he is absolutely one of those annoying mfs that reva their engine OBNOXIOUSLY loud all the time like he’s super cool. If you’re wondering who most of the skid marks on the track are from, that’s also Jax. Hes the best as drifting, and he loves to show that off. His car isn’t based too much on an actual vehicle?? I stared at Mario karts and pieced it together, but also gave it a very sports car look, the wing on the back fr fr I think Jax would dig that.

Kinger:

OHHSOSK I was so creative with his little wagon,,, it’s castle shaped!! And the best part? Operates like a rocket. In the back past the battlement (the crown looking thing you see atop castle pillars) ARE GIANT exhaust pipes and yes, they do spit fire !! Operates like a rocket. It’s very cool! (Also he has a great muffler because unlike Jax he’s considerate of others hearing 💔) Oh also, he has one of those silly horns, I forgot how to describe it but you can just look at how I drew it on his kart and you’ll know heheh!

Zooble:

Our second motorcyclist, owns a trike! If you don’t know what that is, picture a bike with training wheels but super badass. 3 wheels! It’s inspired off the Harley Davidson freewheeler, I like that design a lot but it’s def not actually a Harley because istg when you buy those bikes your just paying for the fancy name brand- expect it to be in the shop all the time, smh not good- BUT ANYWAY!! The looks are inspired off it though and I can’t wait for this one because it’s just as crazy kooky as Zoobles design is.

Gangle:

Her kart is based on my favorite car, classic style but not too cool because you can bet she has anime stickers on the back and a decal that says “please let me merge before I start crying.” It’s similar to a karmann ghia convertible, 1963. Cherry red (so so pretty) She always has the top down, unless competing because damn you gotta go fast. That car itself is really slow, top speed normally is 68mph, however people have modified them enough to get up to 120mph. Thats still pretty slow compared to others, but her kart only reflects the appearance of the ghia! It’s much faster and I assume Bubble works on all their vehicles if asked to.

Lastly, Ragatha:

Our 3rd motorcyclist. 4 Karts, 3 cyclists. Her bike is a futuristic style, if you want a good idea then look up “icare bike”! Not so much a straight forward posture, she leans over ofc, you’ll likely get the idea when you see her bike. I’ll be honest, I haven’t gotten too into her design yet because I haven’t started drawing but!! Dark blue leds,, everywhere yes yes so cool ❤️

Sorry that’s so much 😭 but yeah! Just need to finish 3 kart designs for you guys and I can make official ref cards 👀

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #Caine #tadc Caine #Pomni #tadc Pomni #Jax #tadc Jax #kinger #tadc Kinger #Zooble #tadc Zooble #gangle #tadc gangle #Ragatha #tadc Ragatha #tadc racing au

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello my love! ❤️

Another for you, if you’re still taking them, though of course feel free to ignore this for any reason (or even no reason) at all!

I would love to see what you can do with Steddie and James Arthur’s “Car’s Outside”. I feel like this is one Eddie would write for Steve, maybe after an argument..? 👀

I had to look this one up because I’d never heard it before and this is some emotional stuff I wasn’t prepared for but should’ve been when you said maybe after an argument 😭

Touring the country had been his dream for so long that when it became a reality, he forgot what was most important.

It happened to a lot of rockstars.

His reality check came like lightning, fast and sharp.

“I’m just trying to understand, Stevie. You wanted me to do this. You told me to go on the tours and record the albums. You supported me. What changed?”

“You did.”

That was the last thing Steve said to him over a week ago.

All he knew now was that Steve was back in Hawkins staying with Wayne and hadn’t told him much other than he wouldn’t take up too much room for long.

Wayne didn’t tell him anything except that Steve was alive and safe, but didn’t seem to be taking care of himself well.

The first two days, all Eddie felt was anger. He was full of contempt for Steve suddenly changing his mind about Eddie’s life and dreams.

But the third day was when it hit him that Steve left.

He’d avoided everyone after that, only answered the phone in case it was him calling and hanging up if it wasn’t him.

He barely got out of bed, barely ate, didn’t even go into the bedroom converted into a music room to play his guitar.

The next tour was set to start in two weeks and he didn’t think he could go, not like this, not without Steve here waiting for him.

- - - - -

Wayne called the night before he was leaving for the tour, said he needed to come to Hawkins, but wouldn’t say why.

“Are you sick or hurt?”

“No, Ed.”

“…is Steve?”

“Just get here.”

So Eddie did.

He called the guys and told them he would meet them at their first stop in New York in three days, that he had a family emergency and couldn’t travel on the bus with them.

When he got to Hawkins, he felt like turning right around and leaving.

He hadn’t been back in years; Wayne always came to see them for holidays and visits.

Nothing has changed, not even the trailer Wayne insisted on still living in, even when Eddie offered to buy him something nicer.

Steve’s car sat in the driveway next to Wayne’s truck, just like it did before they’d moved to Chicago to try to make Eddie’s dream happen.

Eddie parked next to him, the rental from the airport much cleaner and nicer than anything else around here, but not in a good way.

It clicked suddenly, that Eddie wasn’t the same. That the guy who used to drive a beat up van and live in this trailer and loved Steve so much it felt like a physical ache when he wasn’t around wasn’t here.

He walked up to the door, knocking like this wasn’t his home just five years ago.

Wayne answered, sullen face making his chest tight with worry.

“Where is he?”

“He’s asleep finally. Come on in, son. Have a seat.”

“What happened?”

Wayne sighed.

“He’s been overworking himself and not sleeping or eating, and it finally caught up to him. He’s had a migraine for three days now, longest I’ve seen. Can barely sit up to sip water but begged me not take him to the hospital.”

Eddie’s fists clenched.

“Why wouldn’t he go?”

Wayne blinked at him.

“Son, you’re not an idiot despite the way you’ve been actin’ for a while. Think about it.”

Wayne walked to the kitchen and started packing his lunchbox.

“Where are you going?”

“I got a shift to get to. Steve shouldn’t be alone.”

Eddie stayed on the couch for the next two hours, his brain shifting through thoughts that quickly turned into song lyrics.

He wrote them down, but barely focused on what he was writing. Now wasn’t really a great time to be producing something new.

He heard a groan from his old bedroom and shot up from the couch, making his way to the end of the hall and entering the room without a second thought.

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, body hunched and eyes closed, pain a physical presence through every inch of him.

“Stevie,” Eddie choked out.

Steve’s head shot up. He winced in pain, but the tears in his eyes didn’t seem to have much to do with that as Eddie got closer.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wayne called.”

“And?”

“If you need me, I’m gonna be here.”

Steve looked away, his eyes closing as he turned his head.

“That’s not how things have been.”

It hurt, but he was right. It hadn’t been how things have been. Not for a while.

“I know. I…I don’t think sorry is enough for any of it, but I am. I’m sorry. So sorry, Stevie.”

Steve looked at him, the haze of the migraine keeping a lot of emotion off his face.

“Yeah. Okay.”

It wasn’t forgiveness, and forgiveness wasn’t deserved yet, but it was a start. And when Steve let Eddie get him water and medicine, and play with his hair, it felt like a start.

- - - - -

Eddie had to go.

If he didn’t go, he’d miss the first show of the tour.

He’d be in deep shit, and the guys would hate him, and he would never make music again.

His manager called him every four hours at Wayne’s asking when his flight would be and he always said “when things are right with Steve.”

It started to feel like that might not happen.

But something about the way Steve was slowly letting him in, allowing him to care for him more every day, gave him hope that he could get him back, get them back.

Wayne didn’t say much to him, didn’t have to. The way he watched was enough to know how Wayne felt about him, this situation.

But he didn’t go.

Steve’s migraine was gone, but he still needed Eddie, still needed to see that he was the priority.

Eddie needed to show him that he mattered more than his band, because he did. He always had and always would.

He missed the last flight that would’ve gotten him there on time.

He called the guys to let them know, to apologize, to tell them that he had to do what was best for him.

They understood, but told him their manager was livid and probably would try to replace him instead of postpone the tour.

He didn’t care at this point.

He’d gotten his taste of fame and it was bittersweet.

Steve stood in the doorway when Eddie hung up the phone, watching him with his arms crossed as Eddie covered his face in his hands.

“You’re not going?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Eddie dropped his hands and sighed.

“If I have to pick, then I pick you. I’ll always pick you.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

“You think I want you to pick between me and your career?”

“Yes. That’s why you left, isn’t it?”

Steve shook his head.

“I left because you forgot that I was a choice at all,” Steve’s voice sounded choked. “I left because I didn’t even think you’d care if I did. You didn’t seem to care much about leaving me anymore.”

Eddie’s heart couldn’t possibly break more.

“Sweetheart, of course I care. I’m here because I can’t lose you. If it’s you or the band, then it’s you. Always.”

Steve let out a sob.

“I didn’t want you to choose me instead of your career. I wanted you to recognize that choosing your career didn’t have to mean not choosing me.”

“Oh, my love.”

Eddie pulled Steve against him, holding the back of his head against his chest, other hand running up and down his back slowly.

“You’re always my first choice. I’m sorry I forgot to show you that. I’m sorry you ever had to feel like you weren’t even an option. You’re the most important choice I’ve ever made and I’m going to keep choosing you every day. Even if it means giving up the band. None of that means shit to me if I don’t have you.”

Steve nodded against his chest.

They stayed like that for so long, Wayne came home, nodded and smiled from the doorway of the kitchen.

- - - - -

Steve came with him.

He called his manager the next day, said it was non-negotiable that Steve be with them for this tour.

The band was on his side, of course. They loved Steve and they loved Eddie and the last thing they wanted was to see either of them hurting.

The first time he performed the song he wrote while he was in limbo with Steve, he let the crowd know what was most important in his life.

“Gonna slow it down a bit for this next one. Sometimes this life has some downsides, hard to believe, right? It’s hard to maintain who you are when you’re being pulled in so many directions. But I’m lucky to have someone who keeps me grounded. Leaving them for tour wasn’t an option this time around, and I’m glad they’re here with me. I wrote this a couple weeks ago when we were having a hard time. I wasn’t being the partner they needed, and I wasn’t showing them that they’re the partner I want. I’m not loving you from afar anymore, sweetheart.”

Steve watched from his spot backstage, like he did every night.

He didn’t feel like an option anymore, he felt like the choice.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon #rockstar eddie munson #angst with a happy ending

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle: Part Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: feeling rejected and heartbroken, going on yet another bad date, belittling wait staff (by the date), fluff at the end

Summary: It's been a month since the incident with Jackson. It's been a month since you felt Bucky's arms around you. It's been a month and he hasn't said one word about it, and seems like he's gone back to his usual ways. It's time for you to move but why can't you?

read part one here: Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Squares Filled: seeking comfort in best friend (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been a month since you and Bucky shared a bed. It’s been a month since he saved you from that disastrous date with Jackson. It’s been a month since you felt his arms around you, and you haven’t felt them since. It’s like after that night, Bucky went back to his normal ways of fucking a new girl every week. He refuses to think about that night, talk about that night, and acknowledge that it even happened.

Sometimes, he’d bring two girls back to the apartment for a very long night of you wanting to kill yourself from the noises you’d hear. You don’t get it. You thought you two had something. Were you just a means to an end? Another girl to get into his bed even though you never did anything other than sleep? Another notch in his belt?

The only person you can find comfort in is your best friend and Bucky’s sister, Mia. She’s the only one who will hear you complain about him because everyone does it. All of her friends who have gotten involved with Bucky have complained to her about how he didn’t treat them right or they caught feelings but he tossed them aside like they meant nothing.

However, this time it’s different. It’s the way you talk about Bucky or the way she sees him with other girls that makes her think there is something more to this than meets the eye.

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” you ask and fiddle with your cappuccino.

“No, sorry, hun.”

“I should move out. I don’t know where I’d go.”

“I wish I could say you can stay with me. Ty and I just converted the spare bedroom into our home office.”

“I know. I appreciate the offer. I have a little money saved but I have to tough it out until I get enough to afford something small.”

“Ty’s sister is a real estate agent. I can give her your number and she can try and help you out.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m still trying to figure things out.”

“Hey, can Ty and I borrow your car this weekend? Ours is in the shop and we planned a romantic weekend up north.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off the night before.”

“Thanks!”

You take a sip from your coffee and hear a motorcycle in the distance. You’d recognize that bike anywhere. Bucky pulls up near the cafe where you and Mia are and parks on the side of the road. He has a girl on the back of his bike that he no doubt met that day. Right in front of him is some fancy clothing store she wanted to go to. She gets off the bike, removes her helmet, and leaves him on the bike to go inside the store alone.

Bucky looks in your general direction but with his helmet on, it’s hard to determine exactly what he is looking at. Still, that doesn’t stop the glare you’re giving him.

“Just ignore him,” Mia says and pops a doughnut hole into her mouth.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter and look away from him. “That next morning, he acted like nothing happened. I figured he didn’t want to talk about it. Then a couple of days passed and he still didn’t mention it. Weeks went by and now I know he’s doing this to me on purpose. He’s being an ass.”

Bucky gets off his bike and takes off his helmet to get some fresh air, and he leans against the side of it effortlessly. If you were to do that, you’d surely knock the bike over. He waits for his fuck buddy to come out of the store, and she bounces over to him with a bag in hand. She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss that is meant for the bedroom but also the kind of kiss you want to show off to someone. You can’t be here anymore.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

You get up and toss some bills onto the table for your drink and leave in the opposite direction of Bucky and his new toy.

Bucky pulls away from the girl and looks over to where you and Mia are. When he doesn’t see you, he looks around for you only to see your retreating figure. He feels like shit for doing that. He absentmindedly rubs the knuckles that hold small scars from when he beat Jackson up for what he did to you.

You take the entire day to walk around town and be by yourself, so when you get home it’s already dark. Bucky is in the kitchen cooking something when you put your keys in the bowl by the front door. You round the corner and see him cooking something with only a towel wrapped around his waist as if he just got out of the shower. However, there isn’t any water on his body.

“Grab it while it’s hot,” he says.

“Really? You’re cooking in a towel? You couldn’t have gotten dressed first?”

He opens his mouth to reply but someone speaks from his bedroom that interrupts him.

“Bucky, where are you? I’m getting lonely.”

Bucky doesn’t feel guilty that he has a girl over. He feels guilty that you caught him. He sees the heartbroken look in your eyes that makes him want to shoot himself.

“Thanks for the offer but I’m not hungry. I’m sleeping over at Mia’s tonight.”

He lets you walk away.

The weekend comes quicker than you’d like. Without a car, you’re stuck in the apartment, and you’re not about to ask Bucky for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re stuck in your room on your phone when you get a message from Mia.

Hey, I know you didn’t ask for this but I hooked you up with someone Ty knows. He’s super nice!

like a blind date?

Yeah. I can tell him you’re not interested. I figured this is your chance to get over my brother.

yeah, i can try. where is the date?

At the new bar that just opened next to the cafe. His name is Travis. I told him 7 tonight.

okay. thank you. i’ll let you know how it goes.

Seven is three hours away, so you better get ready now. After taking a shower, you look in your closet for something to wear and come across the dress you wore for your date with Jackson. You haven’t worn it since because of the memories attached to it. Not memories of Jackson, memories of Bucky. Next to that dress is Bucky’s leather jacket he told you to keep. Like the dress, you haven’t worn it since and you’re sure as hell not going to wear it now.

There is a floral print dress that goes down to your ankles. It’s off the shoulders with long sleeves down to your wrists that bunches so the sleeves look flowy instead of compressed. The entire dress is flowy and light, perfect for a blind date. The match, you have chunky white wedges that give you a few extra inches. You keep your makeup light, hair down in soft waves, and jewelry that compliments the dress.

You leave your room and look at Bucky’s closed door. He’s been spending a lot of time in his room this past week with girls he picks up from anywhere. The only reason you’re telling him where you’re going is because you live with him. If you don’t, he’ll send an army to go look for you. There are noises and giggling coming from inside the room but when you knock, they cease.

One minute later, the door opens a crack and Bucky stands there with messy hair and sweats on.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky takes a moment to look at the outfit you’ve chosen and his demeanour changes immediately.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“I’ll Uber. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

You leave before he has a chance to say anything else. It takes the Uber ten minutes to get to you and another thirty minutes to get to the restaurant. Mia sent you a picture of what the man looks like but it was grainy and unclear. You step out with your phone in hand while looking around for Travis.

“Y/N?”

You turn to see an attractive man wearing a nice suit. You look at the picture once more to confirm it’s Travis, which it is.

“You must be Travis,” you chuckle nervously.

“Yeah. Wow, Mia sent me your picture but nothing compares to real life. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“I made us a reservation. Shall we go inside?”

“After you.”

You two walk inside, get your table, order, and start chatting about your lives. Travis is a bit boring when it comes to having adventures. Unlike you. You can write a book about the adventures you’ve been on because you have Bucky as a roommate. When he’s not fucking some random girl, he’s actually pretty cool to hang out with. You two have been everywhere in town doing all sorts of things.

“So, what do you do for work?” Travis asks and sips his drink.

“Uh, I am an IT specialist who works from home. I get calls daily on how to fix computers and other tech-related stuff. It pays well and I get to stay home, so that’s a bonus.”

“That’s awesome. I’m terrible when it comes to computers.”

“What do you do?”

“I am a financial manager. Like you, it pays well but I’m stuck in meetings and in the office all the time.”

“Have you always wanted to work in the financial world?”

The waitress comes by with your food and sets the plates in front of you and Travis. You think she’s going to walk away and you can continue your conversation with Travis, but that’s not what happens.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with this?” he asks angrily.

“Excuse me?” the waitress stutters.

“I don’t even have to touch this to know it’s cold. Do I have to go back there and tell you how to do your damn job?” 

Your mouth opens in embarrassment and shock.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take this back right now and have it fixed.”

The waitress grabs the plate without looking at you and leaves immediately. Poor thing looks like she is going to cry. Travis shakes his head and turns back to you as if this never happened.

“So, anyway, I went to business school and all that, but it’s nice to get out of the office every once in a while, you know?”

You have no idea what to say. Mistreating waitstaff is an immediate turn off. Everything attractive about this man suddenly turns sour. You’re lucky you saw this early on instead of at the end of the date.

“I’m sorry, I have to use the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, sure.”

You take everything you own with you because you’re not coming back to this table. You make it seem like you’re going to the bathroom in case he’s watching but once your table is out of sight, you find the first waitress you see which so happens to be yours.

“Hey, I am so sorry about the way he spoke to you like that. I don’t even know him. My best friend set me up. Listen, I gotta get out of here but the table we’re at is by the door. Is there a back entrance I can use?”

“Yeah, I got you. He gave me the ick as soon as I saw him,” she shutters. “Follow me.” She takes you through the kitchen and the back door that they use when they go on breaks. “Good luck.”

“Oh, and don’t be afraid to spit in his food.”

“Trust me, the cook’s all over it.”

You walk through the small alley next to the bar to the main street. You take out your phone to call an Uber, but luck has it so that you don’t have any service. You try moving the phone around, even walking down to the street light, but nothing comes up.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

You can’t call Mia. You can’t use your car because she has it. The only person you know is Bucky. Should you call him? He’s probably frolicking with that woman still. Even if you were to call him, he’d probably hate you for ruining his date. The only other option is to walk home even though it took thirty minutes to get here by car.

The road stretches through the mountain briefly which you don’t want to walk through but what else are you gonna do? If you can’t get service in a busy restaurant area, there is no way you’re gonna get service in the mountains. The walk gives you time to think about your life. You have a good job that pays well but you can’t keep living with Bucky if it means seeing him with all these women. You have a major thing for him and it kills you to know you’re not the one he’s going home with.

Ten minutes go by until you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. It races past you without a second thought, screeches to a stop, turns around, and slowly creeps up behind you. You don’t have to see who it is to know who it is. Bucky pulls up next to you and walks the bike to keep up with your pace.

“Get on the bike.”

“No, I’ll walk. Thanks.”

“Don’t be difficult, Y/N. Get on the bike.”

“How the hell did you even find me?”

“I asked Mia. She told me the guy you were on a date with. I looked him up, and he posted to his Facebook about how his date ditched him, and all women are beneath him. He’s a fucking loser. I mean, he still uses Facebook,” he chuckles. “I figured you were out here somewhere.”

“Stop stalking me,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Get on the damn bike.”

“No!” Bucky revs his engine and surges forward, parking right in front of you to prevent you from going further. You try to go around him but he moves his bike in your path. “Why the hell do you care about me? You’ve proven I mean nothing to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks and gets off his bike.

“You fucking know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then you’re not worth my time.” You try pushing past him to continue your walk but he grabs your arm to prevent you from doing so. You quickly turn and slap his face. The shock is enough for him to let go of you. “Don’t fucking touch me. The last time you touched me, you left and never spoke of it again. Just go, please. You have a girl waiting for you at home. Just go to her.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because she’s not you!” he yells loudly.

“Do better,” you scoff.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself. “I love you!” You pause to take in the information. “I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I’ve been trying all month to get you out of my head. None of the girls I’ve brought home have ever stuck because they’re not you. Being with you that one night has been better than anything I’ve done all fucking month.”

“Then why did you let me walk away?” you ask in a heartbreaking tone.

“Because I’m an idiot. Because you’re the realest thing I’ve ever had, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

Silence befalls the two of you, and you look around the desolate road.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?”

More silence. Bucky takes three big steps to get to you, grabs your waist with one hand, slides his other into your hair, and kisses you like he was supposed to a month ago. His lips fit so perfectly against your own like they belong there. You’ve pictured this moment in so many different ways, but this is not on your list.

“Are we really doing this?” you ask when he pulls away.

“Do you want to?” You nod with a smile. “You’re my girl now.”

“No more other women.”

“I’ve got the one I want.”

He leans down and kisses you again, this time, making your head soar to new places.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu #mcu fanficiton #mcu fanfic #mcu fluff #mcu angst #marvel angst

[mrwinterr]

Die Happy (Eddie Munson Version)

Pairing: Ghost!Eddie Munson AU x Female Reader; hint of Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Summary: You summon a really friendly ghost. 👻

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual vibes all around, masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral? [female receiving]) and language. 🚫 Minors DO NOT interact. Dabbling into the occult (use of a Ouija board).

Disclaimer: I’m a spooky bitch, but I would NEVER mess with an Ouija board. This is an AU. The upside down and the events that happen in the series Stranger Things (2016) aren’t entirely canon here. 

Title Inspiration: “Die Happy” by Dreamers  

A/N: This is a re-imagine of my Ghost!Bucky Barnes AU from years ago, but I wanted to convert it to fit with our dear boy Eddie. It’s only altered to fit a different narrative, but the smut is still closely the same. The inspiration came from an erotic audio on Reddit, so I owe it to that. There was a part two in the works, so if this goes well, I’ll continue writing it for this AU. Enjoy!

You sat there on your small couch of the trailer you had just moved into about six months ago, staring at the unopened brown rectangular box placed on your coffee table, contemplating on unboxing it. A part of you was scared to touch it again because of its contents and the other part was bullying you to just rip it open and get this over with. This was your idea after all. This was your last resort. This was the package that would, hopefully, help you find the answers you were so desperately looking for.

What exactly were you trying to solve? 

Six months prior, you’d managed to save up enough money to move out of your parents’ home, away from a superficial city and into a small, quiet town. Albeit a trailer wasn’t your first option, it was something you could call your own. It was the most adult thing you’ve done in your life so far. Initially, you were excited because you would be able to decorate it the way you wanted for every holiday, host small gatherings with friends and maybe even bring someone home. However, you couldn’t exactly do most of that, not with all the strange things that have been happening and while you attempted to brush them off as mere coincidences, they were becoming almost too outstanding to ignore any longer. 

First, it was the air conditioning unit acting wonky. You kept the place at a reasonable and comfortable temperature, but you found yourself often sporting hoodies or wrapped up in blankets. Never mind the breeze that blew past you here and there, the technicians couldn’t find a single problem with the system and besides whenever you scheduled a visit for inspection, it was magically working just fine. 

Next, much like the AC unit, the electricity started to have a mind of its own. Before you could flip the light switch or press the button on your remote, it was always one step ahead of you. It was almost like you were living in a smart house, but instead of acting on voice command, it read your mind.

The most bizarre thing though, was things disappearing and reappearing. Small things like the morning paper would vanish from where you left it and if you couldn’t locate where you last left your keys, you never had to search too far because there they were. Maybe it was all in your head? 

The eeriest one of them all was the unexplained smell. There was a distinct yet alluring scent that would trail behind when you felt that breeze pass over. You couldn’t pinpoint what it exactly smelled like, a composition of something woody with amber undertones that suggested a sense of strength and warmth from its presence. One thing was for sure, it wasn’t any like your fragrances nor was it from the only person that visited you. It was a pleasant odor and almost a calming one to you.  

You didn’t want to believe it, but these weren’t just common occurrences - these were tall tale signs of a haunting. You came to the conclusion you were living with a ghost. The spirit wasn’t vengeful, that much you gathered since it didn’t make attempts to harm you in any way. If anything, it helped you out more than bothered you. Sure you could just either ignore these oddities or move out, but you’d worked too hard to get here and you weren’t going to let whatever entity run you out of your new home. Instead, curiosity won the best of you and you opted to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

Pulling the Ouija board out from the box, you place it on the table and it seems to have a hold on you. How do you prepare yourself to summon a ghost? You don’t know how long you’d been staring but it was only when the sudden knock on your door does the spell break.

You get up and make the short distance to the front door and you’re briefly greeted by your close friend Steve. Your relationship with him was close to the point where you’re not even bothered that he just makes his way inside as if he lived here with you. He’s so busy rambling about something, probably about his latest shift at the video store he worked at, that he didn’t notice how uncharacteristically quiet you were being. 

“Whoa!” He exclaims, stopping in his tracks once he sees the Ouija board laid out. Its presence was enough to effectively cut his story short. “What are you doing with that?” He asks, pointing at the object and taking a few steps away from it.  

You roll your eyes, sitting back down and reaching into the box to pull out the remaining piece, the planchette. 

“What does it look like I’m going to do with it?” You say, staring up at him blankly. 

“Shit,” he starts, running his hands through his thick hair, “okay, uh, I knew you liked Halloween, but I didn’t think you were this spooky,” he says, his eyes bugging out in disbelief. 

He stands in place as if the items in front of you were cursed, but seeing that you hadn’t actually begun anything yet, there’s a bit of relief. You’re not deterred by the Ouija board at all. It had quite the opposite effect because you were all too fascinated with the supernatural. It was just wild that it was happening to you. 

“You really shouldn’t mess with that kind of stuff,” Steve warns as he cautiously makes his way back closer. 

“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” you respond, blowing him off and kicking the now empty box aside.

“And you’re not?!” He says incredulously, “trying to speak to the dead is not right!” 

Well, it certainly wasn’t normal, but so weren’t the things that were happening in your home lately.

“I need to find answers, Steve!” You bite back, the volume of your voice matching his, if not, louder. Your once calm demeanor switching to an intense one, cutting the tension of what you were going to partake in had brought about. You didn’t miss the hint his exclamations gave off and it bothered you. “What do you expect me to do? Continue living like this? I’m not in control of my own place.”

Oh yeah, he knew. Steve was the only friend you could confine in and the one person you could share your stories about your home and the experiences in it.

“You really think this place is haunted.” It comes off as more of a statement because he can see you’ve clearly made up your mind on how you’re going to prove this theory. He could see the inner turmoil you were facing and the vulnerability that cracked through your exterior after your outburst. 

“I’m not going crazy! And I certainly am not going to spend another fee on having a technician tell me there’s nothing wrong with the units again.” If the frustration wasn’t visible in your features, it definitely was in your voice. 

“Look,” Steve says, voice now careful, ”why don’t you just come spend the night at my place and we can think of another way to approach this?” You knew this offer all too well. It had always been on the table. When you decided to move to Hawkins and were looking for your own place, Steve had offered you a room, but you were hellbent on making it on your own. You were proud and independent…and weren’t sure about taking the next step with him. 

Steve was everything your past lovers weren’t and you while you both weren’t official, a couple of dates happened here and there, something was holding you back. You cherished his friendship so much and even though you'd both crossed so many lines already, a part of you feared crossing anymore would jeopardize it. Worse, what if whatever it turned out to be would just fail miserably in the end. Then where would that leave you both? He made it clear how he felt about you, but you brushed it off casually each time. Steve knew you simply weren’t ready and he was willing to wait. 

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” You reply, breaking away from seeing the look of concern on his face, the kind that made you feel guilty, and went back to fidgeting with the planchette in your hands. You knew he was a skeptic on these kinds of things and only worried for your safety. He’d always been protective of you and hated seeing you upset. 

The nights he had spent in your trailer nothing strange ever happened. It’s like these occurrences were only happening to you. Steve wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts or not, but he wasn’t about to stick around and find out today like this. He knew that you could be stubborn, but there was only so much he could do to change your mind from where he stood and he just hoped he hadn’t lost you yet.

The crack of thunder in the sky, slightly rattling the trailer, indicated a storm was coming and you took that as an excuse to convince Steve to leave for the night. You didn’t want to fight with him about this. The few times you did talk about a possible haunting were just humorous conversations to Steve, but you were always being serious. It was evident that you two were not on the same page. 

“You should probably start heading home before the rain comes,” you advise, standing up , walking over to the front door, hoping it’d sway him, but he knew what you were doing. Steve wasn’t mad. He knew you weren’t going to change your mind this time, but he could be patient. He was always very patient with you.

He reluctantly nods, defeated, before following your lead. “I’m coming back first thing in the morning to check if you’re still alive though,” he jokes, before pulling you in for a hug and kissing the side of your head. His words elicit a light chuckle from you, but it mostly muffled against his biceps. You bask in the warmth of his embrace for a few lingering seconds, inhaling his fresh, clean scent, one that was a complete contrast to the one you were used to smelling inside your trailer, before pulling away and playfully shoving him out the door. 

As soon as his car disappears from the end of the street, you jump, head snapping at a sudden crashing sound from the kitchen area. You make your way in that direction to find the mug gifted to you, on your last birthday from Steve, shattered in pieces all over the kitchen floor. The last roar of thunder must’ve been a strong one or the elevation of the shelf had been slightly off or maybe the house just didn’t like Steve… You shook your head at that last silly thought and sighed preparing to clean up the mess. 

The gloomy weather quickly casted a blanket over the once clear sky and with the sounds of the fast raindrops against the windows and pavement, the lag in thunder chasing the flashes of lightning, you didn’t waste time on the mission.

What better time than now? It set the mood. Were you scared? You weren’t sure. You were already convinced you were living with something so what could’ve been scarier than that. You didn’t ponder long enough to think about the aftermath. Was this all just a bunch of hocus pocus or pseudoscience? Would you get possessed by a demon or would they be like Casper?

Would this even work? The use of a Ouija board, especially by someone inexperienced as yourself, was highly not recommended. You’d seen The Exorcist and not to mention this kind of activity was very much frowned upon during your upbringing. If only your parents could see you now…

The spirit in your home couldn’t be that bad though, right? If they wanted to possess you, they would’ve done so by now; unless they were just waiting for an invitation. Well, there was only one way to find out.

You dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around you. Was this insulting? There wasn’t exactly a guide on etiquette for communicating with the dead. You did your fair share of research, but most of what you knew about Ouija boards were credited to horror movies.

You take a deep breath in and out then begin to summon your supposed roommate.

Eddie felt bad. 

He felt bad as he watched you clean up the mess he made in your kitchen. He knew you liked that mug, but he didn’t. He remembered when you were given that mug. He saw the way your face lit up after reading the stupid text on it that only you and the person who gifted it to you understood the meaning behind it. 

He didn’t like Steve and he certainly didn’t like how Steve made you feel. Steve made you feel all sorts of things and Eddie knew that, which explained why Steve never experienced anything unusual in the house because Eddie didn’t like seeing you with him. He chose to not be present in Steve’s presence. Most of his kind would make it a point to make it known they hated them, but Eddie didn’t want to spook you. 

He was aware of how silly it was. A ghost jealous of two living humans. He had his turn, but it was tragically cut short. He was so young, barely in his 20s before he left an ongoing cold case behind, providing no closure for his friends and his uncle.  

But why did his afterlife have to consist of seeing the most angelic living human being just waiting to fall in love with the perfect living man? He didn’t get a chance to live out that part of his life, so was he bitter? Yes. He’d grown so attached it outraged him to see any distress that was brought upon the current tenant of his home.

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was able to roam around his old stomping ground over the last couple of years. He tried his best to communicate with his uncle before he finally managed to move into a better place. He was proud of Wayne for working hard to get a real house for himself. He took assurance that he was able to live more comfortably now. He should’ve known his own flesh and blood wasn’t bothered or spooked out by his attempts to get his attention, so when he left, Eddie was alone for nearly three years. No one was exactly in a rush to move into a trailer, his trailer, until you came into the picture. That day you walked in, if he wasn’t already dead, and you could’ve seen him, he just knew he would’ve been as pale as a well…ghost. He made sure to not send you running for the hills.

He tried to subtly help you with everyday things. He didn’t even spy on you during private moments like in the shower or on those lonely, needy nights. He proved himself to be a ghostly gentleman.

He even tried to not eavesdrop on your conversations and almost always disappeared when guests were present, but he heard you raise your voice earlier at Steve. He wasn’t sure what you two were arguing about and sure it was petty on his part, but before he could summon enough energy to knock over the mug, Steve was already gone.

Eddie followed you back into the living room, watched as you lit the candles scattered around and dimming the lights. He lightly smiled believing you were attempting to relax. You deserved a nice night in. If only seeing you in peace was enough to put him to rest - permanently. He was already trying to guess what kind of movie you were going to turn on but when he saw what was laid out in front of you as you sat back on your couch, his expression fell and he swore his heart would stop again if it could.

“Oh no,” he says as he stares at the Ouija board on the table. Eddie starts pacing in front of you, his hands bunching up his hair in a panic state. Anyone that had ever set foot in this trailer to scope it out knew this place gave off a spooky vibe. This was a tough trailer to sell because not only was it unsettling but so was the story behind it, which it was unbeknownst to you why it was so affordable. You weren’t stupid and you knew there was something or someone lurking, so this was almost bound to happen. 

“Is anyone here?” He hears you ask the first question. He looks over your direction and sees your eyes are closed with both hands on the planchette. You’d close your eyes to mask your fear so that should anything bad happen you wouldn’t have had to stare death right in the face. 

“Oh my God,” he barely whispers and realizes, “she’s really trying to talk to me.” He couldn’t believe you were willingly reaching out to him. He hadn’t been able to talk to anyone in years, so now given an opportunity to do so gave him a sense of elation. 

“Yes! I am! I’m here!” She can’t hear you, idiot. “Fuck, of course she can’t hear me.” Eddie argues with himself on what to do before he remembers how Ouija boards work.

He almost can’t believe it when he does it, but he’s able to delicately and effortlessly move your hands to slide the planchette over the word ‘YES’.

Your eyes pop open and you gasp when you see that you received an answer. Now that was not your imagination. This wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you either. You’re frozen, but look up in front of you half expecting the spirit to show itself to you, however you don’t see anything.

At least that’s what you think. On the contrary, you’re staring right at Eddie or rather through him. His expression mirrors yours - complete and utter shock for two reasons. 

First, he was never able to easily move or touch anything solid in years. The incident with the mug earlier, that kind of stuff usually required a lot of concentration and energy on his part. Secondly, he was in awe. He knew he was attracted to you, but even though you couldn’t see him, he could see you clearly and you were so beautiful to him.  

He’s scared that he’s frightened you with that move, but at the same time it excites him that he’s successfully communicating with you.

You’re unsure if you should continue. You were half expecting this to be a bust, but it moved. It actually moved! While you were excited that this worked, the tiny voice in the back of your head had you thinking that maybe you shouldn’t go any further, but who ever really listened to them? If you were to get hurt or anything, you’d deal with Steve later. You blink a few times and refocus your attention on the task.

“What are you?” You ask next.

“What am I?” Eddie repeats the question, “I’m dead, sweetheart.” Wait. He starts to spell the letters ‘D-E-A-D’ with your hands on the planchette still. The corners of your mouth lifting, amused at that response, of course he was dead, had him comparing it to what angels must’ve felt like when they earned their wings. If anyone believed in that sort of stuff…either way he felt very blessed to pull such a thing as a small smile out of you. 

“You liked that one, didn’t you?” Eddie said more to himself with a big smile on his face. He loved this! It was like he was having a real conversation with you. It was something he only ever dreamed of for the last six months.

A particular flash of lightning followed by a clamorous thunder startles you, breaking you away from the Ouija board. You weren’t going to lie. You were still absolutely spooked out and decided maybe that was enough contact with the dead for the night.

When your heartbeat finally returned to its steady rate, you got up to turn on the lights. You made sure you blew all the candles out and doors were locked before turning in. As you walked the path to his old bedroom, Eddie watched you look back to the living room and bid goodnight to seemingly nothing, but he knew who it was directed towards - it was meant for him.

The days that followed, you were growing more and more curious. In your spare time, you started digging into how much can come out of the Ouija board, but first you needed to figure out who you were dealing with.

You went from door to door of the trailer park doing your own investigation on who used to live in your trailer. You got mixed reviews from the neighbors, but you believed you got the gist of it down.

The trailer originally belonged to a man named Wayne Munson, who took in his nephew becoming his sole legal guardian. You dug deep at the local library, sifting through old Hawkins newspaper archives, to find out that his nephew had commonly gone by the nickname ‘Eddie’ and he wasn’t too far away in age from you. He went to the same high school as Steve, where he struggled in graduating, had a reputation of being a delinquent and someone who participated in satanic practices. The worst of his offense was being linked to the murder of a beloved teenage girl, Chrissy Cunningham.  

The accompanying images of the girl and boy in the newspaper clippings, you assumed to be Chrissy and Eddie. She was undeniably pretty and he was…cute. The tips of your ears burned and turned red as you caught yourself staring a little too long at his picture. 

Why’d that make you feel weird? You’re thinking things about someone you’d never met. You didn’t know anything else about him and what you had learned, it didn’t sound good either. That couldn’t have been the same Eddie in your trailer, right? 

To your surprise, Chrissy had brutally died in your very own living room. Were you living with her? Something didn’t make sense though. What was her unfinished business? All the things you picked up on from the TV or movies, was that most spirits that wandered had some sort of “unfinished business” that prevented them from moving on. Right? 

The news seemed adamant that it was Eddie who killed her, but it was her own boyfriend, some star athlete, Jason Carver, who had been found guilty of her murder. Eddie had been acquitted but the twists and turns never stopped as you read he himself had been found dead inside the trailer a few weeks later. The puzzling thing was the autopsy proved it wasn’t by suicide. He didn’t do this to himself. The saddest thing, aside from the loss of two young lives, was his uncle being the one to discover his nephew lifeless in their home. No one was ever charged for his murder and it didn’t look like there was a rush to locate the killer, which angered you as you continued reading. The real killer was possibly still out there free to live the rest of their life. 

You’re so engrossed with your findings you barely paid any attention to Steve when he’d come in to check on you. He had the spare key in case of emergencies, and ignoring most of his unreturned phone calls, which seemed uncharacteristically you, to him was deemed as an emergency.

Steve was only less than thrilled to see your enthusiasm on all this. Normal people didn’t go around poking at the dead. He pointed out you were lucky you didn’t get possessed, not paying any mind or adhering to you claiming he was probably a friendly ghost.

“This isn’t an episode of Casper!” Steve shouts, fed up again. His face falters as he watches your shoulders visibly slump. He hated killing the vibe, especially when you were excited, but you were hyped about something all too unreal and that shouldn’t be messed with at all in the first place. 

He looked around the small space seeing your notes scattered throughout the coffee table, some spilled on the carpet. There were so many he couldn’t see the Ouija board still laid out. It was just buried underneath. 

“What if I can help him?” You try reasoning with him. “Did you know? Did you know Eddie? Or what happened to him? Did you know that he and someone else died right where we’re standing?” This was the first time you asked him about the person Eddie was, not the ghost. You wondered why he didn't say anything? He’d lived in Hawkins his whole life. Surely he’d had to have heard about this. It’s a small town, people talked.

“I barely knew him,” Steve sighs, guilty but admits, “he wasn’t exactly popular or well liked by most because of how different he was.” You watch as he brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, “but even I didn’t think he was capable of doing that stuff to Chrissy.” He was trying to erase the crime scene the media had released to the public from his mind. “I swear I didn’t know this was his trailer though. Like I said, I barely knew the guy.” You can hear the sincerity in his response and nodded. Had Steve known, he’d most likely had pushed harder for you to move in with him. 

“What if I can help him pass on? Then I can live in peace…and so will he,” you start to persist. 

“You’re not going to be able to convince Hawkins that Eddie Munson didn’t kill someone,” he says bluntly. “You’re already lucky that you’re unharmed,” Steve reminds you. “I’m just worried about you,” he brings his hands to your arms in an attempt to comfort you. 

“I know you are, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, hoping you could keep that promise. After all, you couldn’t even confirm you were really communicating with Eddie.

You were relieved that the conversation with Steve didn’t take a turn for the worse like it easily could have. You understood where he was coming from and you were lucky to have someone like him care so much about your wellbeing. The realization never fails to punch you in the gut for not allowing yourself to give in.

So why were you more scared to commit than of willingly reaching out to the dead?

Take two.

You sat perched, trying to hype yourself up to communicate once more. Eddie, on the other hand, is more than ready and the cool familiar breeze that passes you by lets you know that they’re here.

“Chrissy?” You ask, your fingers firmly on the planchette. You hadn’t figured out which one was actually still here or if both were. 

Your hands move over to the answer, ‘NO’. 

Shit. Eddie thought to himself when you said Chrissy's name. How much did you know about Chrissy? If you read anything about that night in the papers then it surely wasn’t good. What did you think of him now? You probably thought he was the devil. He thought you were going to end this, cut ties with him, cleanse the house or even move out after discovering it’s been him this whole time. The realization that you were living with a monster. 

“Who are you?” The last revelation had to be obvious, but you needed confirmation. Eddie had nothing to lose, physically, but if this was the last time he’d get to communicate with you, he’d take every second until you stop. Your heartbeat starts to pick up as you’re slowly spelling out ‘E-D-D-I-E’.

“Eddie,” you whisper. Boy, did Eddie like the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Is anyone else with you?” The answer points to ‘NO’. He was alone. 

“How did you…die?” you had to swallow in between the last word in that question, hoping it wouldn’t trigger a negative response. Even in the afterlife, death couldn’t be an easy topic.

The letters ‘M-U-R-D-E-R-E-D’ give you your next answer. It was indeed him! Internally, you’re overjoyed that you’ve figured out your ghostly John Doe, but you try to remain at ease.

“Did you knock down my mug?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at that, but swiftly moves your hands over to ‘YES’.

“Okay. I mean that wasn’t very nice,” you couldn’t just bite your tongue as the sass flowed right out of you.

‘S-O-R-R-Y’.

The apology takes you by surprise, and suddenly you weren’t mad about the mug anymore.

“It’s alright. It was just a mug,” you try to assure him. You’d just have to explain to Steve another time that the ghost broke it. No biggie. Yeah, right. What with the tiny arguments, he’d most likely believe you destroyed it out of anger and frustration at him.

Your arms were getting tired from the position they were in. Several minutes had passed since you last said anything to Eddie and you weren’t sure of what to ask next, but you didn't want to stop talking to him.

Where does this end? Do you ask him to leave? This is his home. No, it’s not anymore. It’s your home now. How do you help him pass on? Did you have that ability? Do you hire a medium? Enlist the help of a priest? Call a ghostbuster? Your mind grew tired all too quickly, you slumped back in your seat, breaking away from the Ouija board.

Eddie watched as you rubbed the muscles of your sore arms. He felt helpless. He wishes he could ease or take away your worries and pain. Instead, all he could do was watch and make sure you were okay until you were ready to start talking again.

With your hands back on the board, you ask, “are you still here?” Eddie responds with ‘YES’. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself, before proceeding with the next question.

“Can you show yourself to me?” There is the ultimate question and Eddie can’t help but ask why? Why were you interested in seeing him? He was a lost cause.

“No?” you ask more to yourself, still staring at the word through the eye of the planchette, and frown, defeated at his response.

Eddie wanted nothing more than to show himself to you, but he didn’t know how. He was nothing but a gust of air. No matter how hard he tried to show himself to those nearby, he was never successful.

You pull your hands back away and place them in your lap, unsure of where to go from here. Well, you couldn’t force a ghost to do something they didn’t want to do, but you hoped that maybe seeing him would make it less taxing while communicating.

There’s a sudden iciness that covers the side of your cheek, sending a chill down your spine. You flinch and your hand rises quickly to warm the spot. What was that? You didn't feel that when using the Ouija board. Was that Eddie?

Eddie almost disappears at the sudden reaction. He can’t believe it. You felt that. You could feel him. All he did was caress your face and it was different than pushing your hands in different directions because this time, neither of you needed the help of the Ouija board.

You’re not sure where he is as your eyes scan the room, you wanted to feel that again. Sure, the cold was a bit alarming, and as sharp as his icy touch was, so was the surge that flowed through you. It was unexplainable, but soothing.

It sucked for Eddie because he couldn’t keep your eyes trained on just him.

“Are you sure you can’t show yourself?” You ask again to the open area, this time convinced you didn’t need the Ouija board anymore.

However, Eddie still needed the board to reply. You sigh in defeat as you watch the planchette slide across to the word ‘YES’ on its own. You couldn’t allow yourself to get mad. You just couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to do all these other things, but not be able to show himself. Whatever it was, you’d just have to accept that you’d never understand ghost logic.

The sound of the planchette scraping against the board, offers you the word, ‘F-E-E-L’.

Feel? You definitely felt a presence and a touch, but now it was confirmed. He was trying to communicate through touch.

“Yes, I felt you!” you let Eddie know quite eagerly. The planchette remains unmoved after that and instead of what would appear to be awkward silence, the seconds that were passing by could be more appropriately compared to that of a ticking time bomb.

“Touch me,” you requested.

Eddie is stunned. If he were alive and well right now, he’d no doubt be on his knees for you with a command like that. He floats over to you and is only more than eager to touch you again, but he’s not sure of where. Feeling the soft anticipation of a ghostly tingle, he hesitantly places both hands on the underside of your jaw, in a cradle-like fashion, hoping it’ll stop your wandering eyes.  

You are still, frozen in place, now seeing the breath of air that escapes your mouth in a cloud of smoke, his comforting scent invading your senses. It was him. It had been him this whole time and he’s definitely here in front of you.

“More,” you say barely above a whisper, not paying mind to the coldness.

Fuck. Eddie inwardly swears at himself as you unintentionally egg him on. Testing his limits, what more could he already lose? He was already dead.

He goes all in. He leans in and presses his cold, dead lips to yours in the most gentle and light kiss ever. When he pulls away, he sees that your eyes have closed and he can’t help immediately start to wonder if you actually felt that or not. He sure as hell felt it. He can’t be certain as he tries to gauge the expression on your face. Shit, why did he do that?

“Do it again,” and this time with a more affirmative tone, Eddie doesn’t question anything anymore and obeys. His lips back on yours, but with added pressure, you let out a small moan and purse your lips to respond. You don’t think about how silly it must look to be making out with practically nothing, not knowing what to do with your hands because there was nothing to hold onto, but despite that it all felt too real. He was real.  

Eddie’s mind is reeling at the sound of pleasure that spews from your mouth, he can’t comprehend how this is even possible. He’d been dying to know what kissing you felt like - what you felt like at all.

When your lips start to get numb and turn blue, disregarding the temperature, you reluctantly pull away. You open your eyes to a dark room and wish you could at least hear him, the sounds of ecstasy played a pivotal role in intimacy.  

Your body temperature returns to normal, blood rushing, mind a haze. You stand up and head towards your bedroom without another word. Would he take the cue to follow you? You can’t be sure. You can’t see or hear him, but your actions say otherwise and make you both feel as if he wasn’t dead at all. It was now a game of cat and mouse.

Eddie or not, you were unabashedly turned on. In moments like these, it was hard to be in control of your own body and the only thing you could do was give in to the desires. In this instance, your body couldn’t make up its mind because as if you weren’t just freezing your ass off while kissing Eddie, you were suddenly hot all over.

Flustered, you pulled down your shorts on the way to your bed, tossed them carelessly across the room, perhaps a little too harshly. If he wasn’t going to help you out, then you would do the job yourself. A mad smile on your face, surprised you weren’t the least bit embarrassed if he was going to watch you or not. It only added to the thrill and the excitement.

Trying to regulate your breathing, you lie down on the center of your bed and run your hands over your face down to where you need them the most. Your fingers experimentally graze along the wet spot of your panties, groaning in acknowledgment of the sudden arousal. There’s no sense in conjuring up a justifiable explanation as to how something so seemingly innocent as the kiss you shared with Eddie got you so crazed. Not wasting any time, you lift your hips up and bend your legs to slip the flimsy garment off.

No longer a thin barrier between, your entire body shivers slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, when your fingers make first contact with your clit. Using your slick, you begin to rub slow circles over it. Your stomach sinks in with each relieving exhale, your breathing growing heavy. Your fingers run off course and dip into your folds, past the floodgates, resurfacing now coated by your own wetness as you use it to an advantage in invigorating your bundle of nerves.

Eyes closed, you start to think about Eddie. How his skin would feel against yours. How you’d tangle your fingers in his wild hair. How his hands would feel on your sensitive parts. You want to feel guilty or believe this was all wrong. Instead of getting off to someone like Steve or someone real for that matter, you lied there baring yourself to a ghost. You try to picture that baby face of his, and all that you could based on the lone image you found of him to get you through the finish line. 

The curve of his full lips that you were fortunate enough to feel on yours moments ago. You already knew they were soft, but what about his other features? Did his eyes sparkle or were they like black holes? They had to be of a set that could hypnotize someone. Maybe it was okay that you couldn’t see him because if you had you just knew that you’d be at his mercy.

And that was just on the surface of it all. How was he like in other areas? How would his tongue feel against yours, on your skin, in you…The simulation causes your thighs to clamp up, knees involuntarily knocking into each other; your other hand clutching onto the bed sheets. He made it that easy.

A thin layer of sweat coats your skin from the increase in body heat, then you hiss at the abrupt familiar cold sensation that runs through you, his alluring scent filling your nostrils, your legs forcefully separate; all tells you that Eddie was here. You pick your head up, always a small hint of disappointment flashes through your features at the fact you still and won’t be likely to ever see him.

It shoots a wild pang through Eddie's chest because he doesn’t miss it; never knowing he could read someone so openly. He missed a few significant things in his life already. He missed graduating high school. He missed a chance to get a better car. He missed a chance to sell out venues. He missed playing music. He missed his uncle. He missed his friends. He missed Hellfire. He missed out on someone like you. He missed a chance to develop a deep connection with someone. Life was so cruel.

Your thoughts aren’t as far away from his as you start to wonder, why was it all so easy - seamlessly flawless - with him? Running with only first-party information and two silent conversations, you were already willing to go headfirst for halos for Eddie. The feeling had you wishing he had lived to one day cross paths with you. Would he have still been in Hawkins when you moved here? Would you be neighbors, friends or more? Would it have been him and not Steve? All the could've and would’ve scenarios sprouting in your head. You got too attached learning about him. Was it pathetic? You didn’t care anymore, whatever would ultimately bring you to him, you just knew in the end you’d die happy.

Your head falls back in defeat and you try to keep your emotions at bay, until you feel the hem of your shirt being lifted, exposing your midriff. Your lips cave in and you wince at each uncalculated cold peck Eddie’s lips leave on you. Whereas you felt minor stings at how cold his touches were in the beginning, for the first time, Eddie felt like he was on fire at how hot to the touch you were in this moment. This moment with him.

His lips create a path down to your core, and the contrast in temperature felt good. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, your arms lie sprawled on the bed on either side of your body.

Cool air brushes past your folds and your heartbeat spikes up again. Eddie never imagined he’d ever be able to make someone feel this way. It was pointless for him, but he dreamt about it countless times. And then he wickedly thinks how he was dumb to not spy on you during those nightly sessions. He was missing out. You were absolutely divine in his eyes.

“Eddie,” his name slips past your lips breathlessly when he makes contact with your swollen clit. It started off so innocently, but when he pulled his mouth back to ran a long, flat strip over your folds, giving him a taste of what you had to offer, he wanted more.

The cold, with each bit of contact from Eddie, was no longer a thing as your body quickly acclimated to it. Eddie uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart and allows himself to get a better taste. Your head lulls back, sinking deeper into your pillows.

There’s only so much you could do to communicate with Eddie, you want to feel his hands all over, but instead you pick up on the slack, pulling your shirt over your head to grab and squeeze handfuls of your breasts, massaging them and adding onto the sensation. Your groping proves to be successful when you draw out more noises.

Eddie’s eyes never tear away from watching your reaction, the way your body moves, squirming from pleasure - pleasure he’s bestowing on you. His mouth doesn’t require guidance as his tongue pulls all the right moves, weaving its way through and between your folds. He drags out a long moan from you when he finally dips his tongue inside your wet hole and back out, before capturing your clit between his lips, sucking on it. The sweet suction sensation on your clit as his lips enclose around it.

“I-I need...fuck,” you try to voice out your desires, but you’re reveling in so much, especially in being able to feel Eddie’s fingers digging into the sides of your hips; you bite down hard on your bottom lip, you could taste a hint of copper already, trying your hardest to not let out a crazed scream.

Eddie doesn’t want you to hold back though, so he introduces his fingers into the mix as they and his tongue take turns in you. The addition of his thick fingers start taking you closer to your impending orgasm. You wished you could hear him and all the sounds of his onslaught. To hear those pretty boy moans, the filthy pops and slurping noises. Was he a dirty talker? God. Imagine the filthy things he would say or do.

He gets the message loud and clear. You want to come, and so he quickens his actions until your body goes into overdrive. He could feel your walls closing in tight around his digits, your wetness pooling around them and spilling, he almost loses control of your withering body. When you reach your peak, your mouth and eyes snap open, a choked gasp transitioning into a straggling loud moan, pupils blown, the sweat beads trickling down, and your back arching up in perfect bridge-like fashion. It almost looks like you’re being possessed when your orgasm rocks through you before you come back down releasing choppy breaths from its intensity.

Exhausted, you struggle to stay conscious wanting to communicate with Eddie one last time, but it felt like the orgasm almost sucked the life out of you. His fingers slowly slipping out and the puffs of cool air against your pussy are an indication that Eddie is still present and he wasn’t going to go anywhere just yet. He hasn’t moved from his position and is short of breath, in awe of seeing you coming undone for him and more so the fact that this happened. This wasn’t just another one of his dreams.

For as long as he’d been an apparition, he’d always hoped to be able to finally pass on and if this was his actual last day on Earth or wherever he was, then he’d gladly accept it because one night with you was enough. 

Eddie would die happy.

A/N: Reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated. 🥹 Do we want a part 2? Let me know! Thank you for reading! 🫶🏻

#mrwinterr writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #ghost!eddie munson #ghost!eddie #stranger things fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

[knightsickness]

Who do you think from the main series would be canonised, if anyone?

!! thank you for this one i had to think about it. this is assuming the organised faith persists in westeros past the end of ados

it’s been said but cat is a nobrainer dutiful wife and mother pious had a sept built at winterfell died trying to protect her son saint of the mother immediately. that time she prayed in the sept and then tried to settle the stannis renly clash by appealing to their fraternity is basically already a sermon on the Love of a Holy Mother. i will say lady stoneheart’s riverlands reign of terror IS damaging her campaign idk what the seven’s stance on revenants is but the medieval church thought specifically that saints’ bodies were purer and couldn’t be puppeted by demons as a lesser person might be + saints’ souls go directly to heaven and would not be bothering the living

brienne joan of arc figure maid of tarth etc. doing riverlands charity work with clergymen famously chaste and good does depend how her story ends but she’s a contender. unfortunately the church would definitely depict her conventionally attractive saint brienne patron of maidens oathkeeping and the isle of tarth would not look like brienne

massively depends how the sparrow storyline ends but if cersei blows up the sept with a lot of them inside that’s a literal martyr explosion i could especially see the high sparrow with his Eating Sparingly Out Of Love For The Poor. also the last high septon cersei had killed. lancel contender i’m not sure the faith is too hot on lannisters rn but there’s something there w him he’s got the born again convert and aceticism. being a lann traitor might work for him

related + also massively depends how she dies and how the trial by seven goes but i think marg as a saint of the maiden could be fun. married three times never consummated once (officially), cruelly slandered as a whore by the most significant enemy of the faith since maegor but all the testimony against her was false. she doesn’t have her physical maidenhead apparently but it’s said multiple times most noble girls don’t bc horseriding can easily break it. beloved by the smallfolk prays in the public sept very into giving alms. even if the faith can’t get past the maidenhead could definitely see blessed margaery. consider sansa for similar reasons esp assuming organised faith still exists after cersei’s death being a pious long-suffering maiden personally victimised by cersei lannister feels like a canonisation fast track

davos has a lot going for him as a saint esp if you polish the onion knighting into a parable instead of savvy business (you can charge starving people whatever you like) but his blasphemous allegiance to noted heathen stannis makes it less likely. unless he kills stannis in which case his saint cred shoots back up. a troubled youth then refinds the seven to combat a wicked heathen sorceress because he knows it to be right despite his love for stannis etc the faith could spin it

the idea that after joff died cersei immediately tried to have him canonised bc he’s her specialest boy is very funny. it’s also fun bc even though i’ve seen some people pull for saint robb robb is wayyyy too much an old gods pagan worshipper despite having every opportunity to follow the faith so saint joffrey the just is significantly likelier. robb is a sad footnote in the Life of St Catelyn

#not exhaustive list but some of the first i thought of #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #catelyn stark #brienne of tarth #lancel lannister #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #davos seaworth #joffrey baratheon #robb stark

[mrkeatingsblazer]

The Prophecy [Oh, Was It Punishment] Part Two

Apollo x Child of Hermes! Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three

It has been six months and seven days. Six months and seven days since the war against Gaia. Six months and seven days since Rachel has made a prophecy. Six months and seven days since Lord Apollo has been missing. Not even his children have heard a whisper from the God, not even a glimpse in a dream and while Demi-Gods are used to being ignored by their parents, it is never to this extent; it is never with this God.

You’ve found yourself with the three Apollo campers a lot, trying to comfort them during such a peculiar and unknown time. No child should have to worry for their parent. Will Solace especially has taken the blunt of the hardship. Being so young and taking care of both the wounded from the war and his cabin since the Battle of Manhattan has taken a toll on the kid. You find yourself relating to the younger boy immensely. When Luke left and you were finally claimed, Chiron made you the head of the Hermes cabin. Though unlike you, who has been out of camp more often than not and was allowed to appointed the Stolls the title of Co-heads, Will has been burdened with being alone with his responsibilities since he was 13. You watch him now, folding and unfolding bandages repeatedly out of a nervous habit. The frown on his face was subtle but still there. He could have been finished up with inventory an hour ago but chose not to.

“I think we’re done Solace,” you say from atop the infirmary counter, letting your feet swing back and forth.

“You can head to dinner, I’m fine here. Thanks for the help,” his tired voice mumbles in response.

“Kid, you’ve rewrapped that one bandage like 8 times now, I think it's been wrapped enough,” you say quirking your brow.

Will sighs, placing the bandage down before turning to you, “will you stop it with the kid thing, you’re only 2 years older than me.”

“2 and a half,” you point at him with a scalpel that was lying beside you and smirk, “and I’ll have you know I’m a legal adult William.” He looks you up and down and snorts. His expression quickly converts back downtrodden, as if that momentary joy was a mistake. Along with the fact that his father is gone M.I.A, camp has been more depressing than usual. Kids were going missing, and no one understood why; one of these kids being your little brother and Will’s best friend, Cecil. You watch as he shuffles around like a stray kitten, you’d never pity him not when you can relate. Hopping from the counter, you walk over to him and seize his arm, yanking him towards the door. It was a comical sight, with Will being almost 2 heads over you.

“[reader]- Hey!” he gently tries to get out of your grasp but fighting two wars made your grip nothing less than steel. You continue to push the boy towards the door

“Don’t even Solace,” you scold as he tries again to get away from you, “we will be going to dinner and after that we will be going to the campfire whether you like it or not.” you yank open the infirmary door and shove him out, “and hey, maybe a certain son of Hades will be there,” you smirk as the blonde turns bright red. He grumbles, rubbing his arm but compiling and following you to the dining pavilion. It was adorable to see the kid with his crush, especially due to who it was on. You’ve known Nico since he was an annoying but excitable little 10-year-old and Will even longer, neither of them have had a good childhood, most demi-gods never do. In a way, you were living vicariously through them. You did that a lot. With Annabeth who got with Percy, your old crush, Piper and Jason, Hazel and Frank. You couldn’t help but wish you had what they had or in the case of the former, who they had.

You remember your days on the Argo. When there were no battles or group meetings, you were subjected to sit and watch the love emulating around you. For a while you thought the countless couples around you meant something, that because they were all members of the crew and got together, that for sure meant you were to get with the last single member, Leo. He thought so too. After his little thing with Hazel, that even now you don’t try to understand, you felt as though something was forming between the two of you. At one stage you found yourself hanging off him more than you were around Percy and Annabeth. You couldn’t help but be attracted to his mind, his creativity, his light. Your two best friends encouraged the blooming relationship between the two of you, even with Percy not liking Leo a whole lot, and so did the rest of the crew.

Everything changed after he came back from Ogygia. He came to you first after he returned, making you feel special in a sort of pitiful way. Expecting a grand reunion, you were instead greeted by his starry eyes as he spoke about another girl- no not a girl, a Goddess, who had him returned to you utterly smitten. Your heart broke as he told you he was planning to find her again. When you were given the truth by Eros, it made sense in the end. Leo being sent to Calypso was the Fates way of ensuring you remained loveless and killing him was just a way for them to remain cruel.

You sat through dinner at the Hermes table, which was smaller than it ever has been in years. Connor was beside you flinging peas at Clovis who would jolt at the impact before dozing off once more. Nico Di Angelo was sitting at the Apollo table, next to a blushing and, surprisingly, flirting Will Solace. You sighed looking around at all the missing campers, be it they left for college, died during the wars or as of late, were lost to Gods knows where. Even the rising moon seems dimmer than it should have been. You wonder if that was on purpose, was it Lady Artemis’ way of showing her sadness for her twin brother? Was she also in the dark as much as all of us?

By the time the campfire rolled around, you just wanted to retire to your cabin, but chose not to, for the sake of your sibling, Will Solace and yourself. As Austin was doing his cover of ‘My Sweet Lord’ by George Harrison, you heard rustling coming from the forest behind you. At first you passed it off as nothing more than a noisy nymph. It was when you heard a yell did you twist your ring, transforming it into your sword. The object was gifted to you before you even knew of your parentage, by an original member of the Argonauts, Atalanta. You recall the words of the swift footed women, who aided you during your mission to save both Lady Artemis and Annabeth; “never let a man take you unless he can keep up,” she winked before racing off. Many other campers joined you in seizing their weapons, Nico and Clarisse come to either side of you, swords ready. Two figures stumbled out of the forest, neither were recognizable. The taller seemed to be giggling and relying on the smaller to carry their weight. As they came closer you could make them out. A small Asian girl with black coke bottle glasses was cursing the taller brunette boy. He was gangly and average; you deemed him instantly not a threat.

“Hold! Who goes there?” Chiron boomed.

The boy gave a wobbly grin along with a shaky wave and replied, “oh, hi! I’m Apollo!” before collapsing to the ground

#Apollo x Reader #Apollo x child of Hermes! reader #The Prophecy (Oh Was It Punishment?] #pjo Apollo #trials of Apollo #will solace #nico di angelo #Percy Jackson #Annabeth chase #x reader #Percy Jackson x reader #leo valdez #Leo Valdez x reader #Jason Grace #piper mclean #frank zhang #hazel levesque #pjo #Artemis #Greek Gods #Blood of Zeus #Hermes #fanfic

[mynameiswhateveryoudecide11]

Hello everyone,

long time anonymous Kaylor here (lurker is the word probably), and long post incoming 💚

I’ve just recently started using this space more openly and sharing opinions, which I’ve honestly always been quite scared to do for various reasons, so I just wanted to share a bit of how I became a part of this little piece of heaven here on Kaylor tumblr and how important this community has been to me 🌈

When I first found out about Kaylor, it was years ago through a mutual connection on instagram. At the time, I too was going through a phase of slowly understanding myself and my queerness, which I’d obviously suppressed for so long (it took me just as many years, if not more, to actually accept it after realising it had always been there). So when I found this rabbit hole (or should i say these rabbit holes, as it all started with TTB, kaylor evidence, the masterposts, and all of the newer tumblr pages that have kept the memories from the archives alive all these years) - I finally realised what had always been quite confusing before: why did I always relate to Taylor’s music so deeply ? why did I feel like I could actually feel was she was feeling, even though I’d definitely never felt so strongly about any man in my life, while she was allegedly the straightest human on the planet ? Well that’s because she wasn’t. She was, although on a much bigger and more complicated and public scale, one of us 🎉🌈 As someone who struggled for years to accept my non-straightness, finding out that the biggest artist on Earth, whose music I’d loved for so long, was a tiny bit similar to me and my experience, made me feel a warmth and a tenderness and a happiness so strong that my heart could have exploded for it. I genuinely cried myself to sleep every night for 2 / 3 weeks after finding out. A happy, sad, angry kind of cry - happy to be in on the most beautiful secret of our generation, sad for all the freedom and the life that T & K have had to miss out on, and angry, SO fucking angry that some small-minded, arrogant idiots felt entitled enough to do this to them, to her. To take a life that wasn’t theirs, and make it what they wanted it to be, and take what they wanted from it. Fuck you. Fuck all of you who did this. “So unfair” I mumbled while trying to sleep. “So beautiful” I couldn’t breathe.

Fast-forward to today, I’ve spent an unreasonable and unhealthy amount of time lurking on every corner of the tumblrverse as well as analysing songs (my fave past time) and converting all my besties to Kaylorism (they are now so invested it’s ruining our lives 😂💖).

I’ve been trying to learn as much as possible and I’m so thankful to all the fabulous blogs on here:

@spade-riddles

@chosetherose

@9w1ft

@asteracaea

@rainbowdaisy13

@daisyswift3

@kwyw

@iwanthermidnightz

@tales-of-kaylor

@bettyshoweduptotheparty

and I’m sure there’s so many more I’m forgetting please drop your @ if you’d like !!

All this to say, I’ve spent years anonymously supporting and reading theories and enjoying the amazing safe space you have created for our community - you all have changed my life and I’m sure you’ve changed T’s life too, so I just wanted to share my little bit of personal Kaylor lore because it still makes me so happy and emotional to think about all the difficult times we’ve all been through and knowing that now the future’s bright, dazzling 💖🌈

Sending love out to you all, thanks for everything. Onwards and upwards from here xx

#kaylor #lgbt

[shawnxstyles]

heyy ik you might be busy but can we get a harry fluff smut fic this weekend pls 😣

five course meal

warnings: smut; f-receiving (oral)

note: this was a few weeks ago, but why not try to sedate you for a little? here’s morning smut with a hungry harry :)

—

“baby,” harry breathes, lips ghosting over your neck as his breath fans over your skin. “so pretty.”

harry felt the need to praise you as often as possible: in the morning, before work, on the phone, after work, in the car, on date nights especially. he wanted to honor you because you were so special to him, special to the world. even when you didn’t feel your best, harry still wanted you to know how much he cared for you in those tough times. harry admired you more than anyone in the world.

“harry, please. i need you.”

“yeah? my sweet girl needs me?” his wandering hands crept up your large t-shirt and fondled the skin underneath. the rigid texture of his fingers rubbed the underside of your breasts, causing you to wiggle underneath him. “where do you need me, love?

“everywhere, h. please, no teasing.” you tended to plead for harry not to tease often. even though your body adored it and got off on it. you liked pushing your limits because the finale was always beyond blissful.

“no teasing? well that’s no fun,” he ran his fingers over your pebbles nipples before placing delicate kisses on your smooth torso. “are you going to deprive me of watching you fall apart? hm?”

“n-no,” your response came out as a stutter when his raspberry lips attached to your breast, swirling his tongue over the peaked bud. while distracting you, his hand sneaks its way to your panties. it was natural for your legs to widen when his hand approached you, obeying his silent command.

as his mouth pops off of you, the pads of his fingers massage you over your panties, causing you to mewl from his warm touch. you began to crave that sensation to be filled, the feeling tingling in your lower belly.

it’s not long because your panties are absolutely soaked, desperate arousal seeping through. that’s just what harry was waiting for; for you to be whiny and achy until you were gushing needily for him. that’s when he finally decided to drag your underwear down your unsteady legs.

harry’s large hands spread you open, smoothing over your thighs and practically prepping for his meal. his curious thumbs widen your cunt as you gasp, your wetness dripping onto the bed.

“so wet f’me, baby. love seeing you like this.”

you looked like an absolute wreck when his magical hands caressed you, held you, overpowered you—something inside of you was constantly bubbling and foaming, and when he touched you, it exploded into lustful, loving flames.

“gonna have a taste now, alright? i haven’t eaten yet.”

“‘cause you didn’t even let me get out of bed—” his mouth began slurping all of your dripping juices before you had a chance to finish complaining. your whines were converted into paused gasps and moans, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. “i-i could’ve made you breakfast.”

he lifts his mouth off of you, your wetness around it, “shh, i’m eating now.”

and with that, he resumes his meal like it was his last, sucking on your clit momentarily before thrusting his skillful tongue inside of you. the constant switching has your orgasm approaching you fast. there’s also a slight burn from the small gruff he has built up around his lips, but it only riles you up more. as his short hair scratches your skin, moans spew from you without limitation.

“harry, i’m really close,” you warn, feeling the tightness pressing in your lower belly. your hands crawl up to his brown locks, twirling his hand intensely. it only urges him to press and lick harder into you, his own hands pushing you wider.

your hips convoluted towards his mouth, so much, that his forearms had to press them down vehemently.

overpowered.

fingers plucking your own breast, your orgasm fires up inside of you. that volcano in your belly explodes all over harry, and he doesn’t even flinch. he continues to lick, suck, drink, and devour you like a final goodbye. even when your cunt was sore and aching from overstimulation, he never removed himself from you. he was just too immersed in the taste of you, forever his favorite flavor.

“too much, h. too much,” you whined, but made no move to push him away. you could feel the smirk rising on his mouth against you when you gasped a breath as he inserted his tongue again.

finally, when he pops off of you, your clit is throbbing and your heated again. reading your body language, harry begins to blow cold air over your cunt, his line of fire directly on your clit. your hips jerk, extremely sensitive from the first orgasm.

“love when you’re all sensitive. you’re s’responsive.”

“you’re such a tease,” you roll your eyes before going to shut your legs. but harry stops you, placing his hands on your thighs.

“i never said we were done. i’m still eating, darling,” he kisses the trembling insides of your thighs that are irritated from his slight scruff. “you know i love m’five courses.”

you were in for a long morning.

—

:)

#shawnxstyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #anon request #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles the album #harry styles fine line #love on tour #treat people with kindness

[wisteriagoesvroom]

For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

--------

“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.” 

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.” 

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.)  Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch. 

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out. 

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching. 

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would.  And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?” 

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out. 

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation. 

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.  

-------------

(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

#landoscar #lando norris #oscar piastri #ln4 #op81 #mctwinks #twinklaren #f1 rpf #wiz.askbox #wiz.promptfills #<- don't even know if i use this tag lmao but only one way to find out #green card marriages man what a tried and tested excellent trope #also one i've never written before!! so thanks or letting me dabble in the drabble #prompt game #wiz.HCs #why do picture blocks conspire against me lately #they just get so aggressive when i try to put 3 in a row on this device #anyway #yapping