Tumgik
#life at nerdy holler
nerdierholler · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
BABY STURGEON!!! OMG so stinkin tiny and cute.
2K notes · View notes
taintandviolent · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader
summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪
You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.
It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….
“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”
Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites  out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.
Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”
As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H
“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.
You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.
You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.
“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…
“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”
Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.
“Hey! Dead bitch!”
Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.
“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.
“This is our little zombie — ”
“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.
“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.
Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.
He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.
“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.
Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.
“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”
He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”
“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”
Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.
You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.
You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.
On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage,  and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.
Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.
“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.
He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.   
As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.
As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.
He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.
“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.
Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.
You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.
“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”
There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.
You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”
His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.
“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”
“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”  
With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.
“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”
“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”
“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”
Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.
You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.
“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”
He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.
“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.
“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”
He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.
This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.
“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…
Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”
For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.
Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin.  “You want something that tastes good, baby?”
That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.
That was the plan, anyway.
Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.
At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.
“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.
His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.
“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.
He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.
“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.
You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.
A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.
“KYLE! STOP!”
At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.
He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.
“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”
“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”
You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.
“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.  
Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.
And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.
You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.
You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.  
“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”
“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.
“Body. Body.”
His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.
When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.
You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.
Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.
“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”
He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”
You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.
With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.
“Want… more…”  He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.
You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.
Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.
“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”
Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.
He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.
There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.
“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”
Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.
“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”
He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.
Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”
You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”
He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”
“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.
“You wanna’ go home?”
~
After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.
Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.
The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.
“Good Evening,” she says.
“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…”  You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.
Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.
Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?
Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.
“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”
“Cordelia.”
“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”
Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.
“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”  
You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”
She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”
“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”
“I have something for that.”
You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.
Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.
t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz
Ask to be added to taglist for future fics!!
530 notes · View notes
dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 months
Text
The Fixed Cup
He thought for sure things had settled down between him and Eddie after Vecna. He thought maybe he and Eddie could finally be friends, but how could he be friends with someone so annoying? Steve hoped that once their bat bites healed, they would stop bitching at each other. . . Boy, was he wrong. It's like everything about Eddie set him on edge, and it didn't help that they were stuck in this quarantine that the government had set up for them. Luckily, it was in their own houses, and Eddie was lucky enough to get stuck in his.
"I swear to God, Robin, I'm going to kill him," Steve complained into the receiver. "I mean it this time, and it will be self-defense too because I think he's also trying to kill me. If I trip over his shoes one more time. . ."
"Hmm, well, like I said before, I'm not helping you bury the body," Robin said casually.
"Aw, come on, big boy, it's so much fun watching you clean up after me," Eddie taunted from the other line.
"Get off the other line, Eddie! Goddamnit!" Steve cursed.
"Well, then, how else will I find out what you and Robbie say about me?" Eddie said.
"Well, I think you're a lovely person, Eddie," Robin said.
"Well, I'm glad someone thinks so," Eddie replied.
"Robin!" Steve whined.
"Just keeping you on your toes, Steve," Robin said. "Well, as much fun as this is. . .I'm going to call Vickie."
The line went dead, and Steve scowled before slamming the phone back on the hook. He ran down into the kitchen to find Eddie giggling at the island.
"Munson! You're such an asshole! You know I only have a certain amount of time to talk to her! Why the fuck do you have to do that?" Steve asked.
"The more you keep letting me know it bothers you. . .the more I'm going to do it," Eddie cackled. "It's fun riling you up."
Steve let out a holler and started chasing him around the kitchen. Eddie ran out laughing.
"Dick!"
Of course, it was mostly Eddie who enjoyed taunting him, but there were times that Eddie would get as annoyed with him as Steve did with Eddie himself.
"I told you I don't want to watch some dumb laundry basket game!" Eddie yelled as he grabbed for the remote.
"And I don't want to watch some stupid nerdy cartoon!" Steve yelled as he yanked back the remote.
"You're a douchebag!" He screamed.
"Oh, like you're one to talk!" Steve screamed back.
Eddie shrieked and dove on top of him. Of course, they would wrestle around with it for a while until their wounds gave them no choice but to collapse on the floor in exhaustion. They were mostly healed but still not healed enough. Steve’s not sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that they were stuck here together with no one else. Maybe they missed their friends, Eddie missing his uncle, or maybe it was the fact that neither one of them could stop the nightmares that came every night. They were on edge all the time, whenever they were around each other. Sometimes, they just crossed the line.
"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "That's not a cup you drink out of! There's a sign!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, is the peasant living in King Steve’s house supposed to drink out of the poor cups?!" Eddie exclaimed as he slammed the cup down.
Of course, slamming it down on the table caused it to shatter.
"It's my grandmother's!" Steve said through gritted teeth.
"I'm sure your mommy and daddy can buy your granny another one," Eddie rolled his eyes.
"She hand-made that," Steve said, his eyes glittering with tears.
"And she can't make another one?" Eddie asked.
"It's kind of hard to do anything when you're dead," Steve snapped.
"Shit, man, I'm so - ," Eddie started to say but was startled when Steve slammed him against the wall like Eddie did that day in the boat house.
"I wish I never - " and Steve stopped himself.
"What? Saved my life?" Eddie asked, bristling.
Steve stared at him, gripping the collar of his shirt, and for once, he didn't know what to say. Eddie pushed him off of him and stormed upstairs. They didn't speak to each other for days after that. Steve thought it would be a blessing, but he found that he missed the sound of Eddie's voice. Steve had woken up in the middle of the night, after struggling to go to sleep, and walked into the kitchen to find Eddie gluing the cup back together.
"Almost as good as new," Eddie said, and Steve found himself smiling. "I mean, I wouldn't drink out of it. . ."
"Maybe I can use it as a pencil holder," Steve said and paused. "Thanks. . .and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. . ."
"I know. I'm sorry, too, man," Eddie said softly.
"I know that it doesn't seem like it, but I'm glad I'm stuck here with you," Steve said.
"Yeah?" Eddie asked and he nodded. "Back at ya."
And for a little bit, it seemed like they were almost getting along until. . .
"I didn't ask you to clean my room, Harrington. You're not my goddamn mommy," Eddie snapped.
"It was driving me crazy!" Steve exclaimed. "Just like you do! I'm sorry if I didn't want you to trip in the middle of the night!"
"You don't have to worry about me, Harrington! I can look after myself, thanks!" Eddie growled.
"It's hard to tell! You couldn't even follow simple instructions! All you had to do was follow the plan. Instead, I find you almost dying in Dustin's goddamn arms!" Steve yelled.
Eddie screamed and pushed Steve up against the wall, pressing his body up against his. They were so close that their noses were almost touching. Eddie pinned Steve’s hand above his head.
"Shut up!"
"Fucking make me."
Eddie growled again before slamming his lips to Steve’s. His eyes widened before he melted into the kiss, moaning into Eddie's mouth. He nibbled on Eddie's lip before swiping his tongue over it and slipping into his mouth. Steve felt his body move on his own and freed himself from Eddie's grasp. He pushed Eddie back onto the bed before ripping off his shirt in a quick single motion, dropping it onto the floor. Eddie was propped up on his elbows, waiting for him. The realization hit him in that moment. . .Holy shit, he just made out with a guy! It wasn't long before Eddie made that same realization, and he looked just as startled as Steve felt. Leaving his shirt behind, Steve quickly ran out of the room. They quickly avoided each other, and not talking seemed to last longer than the cup incident.
"Robin - ," Steve croaked on the phone when he picked up.
"Jesus. You sound like shit," Robin said. "Did you and Eddie get into it?"
"Something like that," Steve said. "I wish I could tell you, but it's not just my place to say."
"I swear to God, I'm willing to risk breaking quarantine. Do I need to come over there?" Robin asked. "Did Eddie do something that requires me to kick his ass? Because as much as I like him, I'll kick his ass if he actually hurt you."
"Eddie didn't do anything wrong. I think I just realized something is all," Steve said and paused. "I kind of wished we were on the floor of the bathroom for this. . .Do you think that it's possible to like girls and also like guys?"
"Oh, dingus," Robin said softly, her voice full of love. "Anything is possible. Especially that. So, you don't actually hate Eddie?"
"Turns out. . . Not so much. . .not at all, actually. I don't think I ever hated him," Steve admitted. "What do I do?"
"I don't know. What do you want to do? Do you want to do something about it, or do you want to fill out the rest of your life full of regrets? You told me to go for Vickie, and you were right. Sometimes, things do work out for the best," Robin said.
"I want to do something about it," Steve said.
"Go get your man, Steve," Robin said with a grin.
Of course, actually doing something about it was harder than he thought. Steve had chickened out a couple of times. His house made it easy for them to avoid each other, and when they did come together, it was completely awkward silence. They didn't even fight over the remote anymore. Steve missed the sound of his voice even more now. What was it going to be like when the quarantine was over? Nothing happened until Steve woke up from a nightmare, went downstairs, and broke down crying in the kitchen. The kitchen light flickered on.
"Steve?" Eddie asked, and Steve jumped.
"I'm fine," Steve sniffled.
"You don't sound fine, man," Eddie said. "Nightmare?"
As soon as Eddie touched his shoulder, Steve burst into tears again and hugged Eddie around the waist.
"You were dead. You were dead and I was alone in this house again," Steve sobbed.
"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said, running his hand through his hair. "You've got me no matter what. I'm here."
"Would you still be here if I told you that I'm starting to fall in love with you?" Steve asked and pulled back, his hands on Eddie's hips.
"Even more so, big boy," Eddie said, cupping his face.
He stepped in between Steve’s legs and leaned down to kiss him, falling into Steve’s lap. The kiss was short and sweet. . .getting its point across perfectly.
"I'm starting to fall for you too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You want to come to bed with me? Keep the nightmares away?" Steve asked.
"Absolutely."
Eddie took his hand, and together, they walked upstairs. When the quarantine finally ended, Robin was the first one through the door. Steve was at the stove, making breakfast.
"Please, tell me you settled things with Eddie," Robin said.
"Nope! Still hate the guy! Thought for a moment that there was something else, but I was wrong! The man is just so goddamn annoying - " Steve ranted.
"Steve! Are you fucking serious?" Robin asked.
Suddenly, Eddie pounced into the room wearing Steve’s yellow sweater and one sock.
"No, but he is fucking me. We worked things out, Robbie," Eddie said, kissing Steve.
Steve giggled against Eddie's lips as Robin yelled in frustration.
"Assholes!" Robin exclaimed and plopped down at the island. "So, tell me everything."
"Hm, everything? You want all the gory details of Steve railing me so hard into his mattress that he nearly breaks his back?" Eddie asked.
"Eddie, don't scar my best friend!"
"What can I tell her? Oooh! He likes holding hands during sex," Eddie said.
"Aww."
"Eddie!"
Steve rolled his before smiling fondly and kissing Eddie.
"Aww, what happened to your grandma's cup, Steve?" Robin asked.
"Don't worry about it, Robin, it's all fixed now. . ."
105 notes · View notes
voiddrop · 2 years
Note
In my personal experience, nerdy metal heads were some of the only guys who were genuinely nice to me with no ulterior motives in high school and I fully believe Eddie is that kind of guy who just wants to make people around him comfortable. Like he sees someone getting picked on? He’s definitely gonna do something about it. You have to give a presentation for class and you’re visibly nervous? He’s pulling some class clown shit it get the attention off you for a moment and totally hypes you up after. He’s also 100% that guy at shows that makes sure no one drops crowd surfers, and helps people out of the mosh pit, and doesn’t let creeps bother girls. I trust this fictional man with my life
A-fucking-men Anon, this exactly. You put my exact feelings into words.
I think it's part of why I've latched onto Eddie so aggressively. I was very much one of the freaks in Secondary School and I didn't really have any friends either, I just know if I had known someone like Eddie he would have made me feel so safe.
I feel like he wouldn't be super obvious about it, not very brave, but he's the type where if he saw you being picked on, he'd do something to get the attention on him. He'd be loud, obnoxious, hop up on tables and start hollering about conformity because it meant A) Pissing off the jocks and B) getting eyes off of you.
Eddie can handle the sneers and insults, he knows you struggle with it.
He is every good part of the metal head community (which is already a pretty awesome community anyway) rolled into a person and I trust him with my heart and life.
71 notes · View notes
thefakegeekg1rl · 21 days
Text
Tumblr media
In a world…
…where every movie starts to seem exactly the same… (SFX: BOWWMMM)
…where pop culture starts to feel like homework … (SFX: BOWWMMM)
…where we’re not even gonna mention real life, cause she is lookin’ rough … (SFX: BOWWMMM)
This world needs GEEKS’N’CHEEKS: A Nerdlesque Extravaganza!!!
Open Barre Burlesque breathes fresh air into tired tropes and brings joy to a weary world with a celebration of our favorite fandoms. Our cast will assemble their most epic and ethereal burlesque, variety, drag, & more to lift your spirits and tantalize your senses!
If you’re feeling down, get together with some nerds of a feather and let your imaginations soar! Join the flock at GEEKS’N’CHEEKS: A Nerdlesque Extravaganza!
GEEKS’N’CHEEKS: A Nerdlesque Extravaganza is a hybrid live AND virtual show, so you can stream our cabaret from home or hoot & holler LIVE AND IN PERSON!
Virtual viewers will receive a stream of the theatre for the live elements and full-screen videos for the virtual elements. The live show will take place at The Newport Theater in Chicago’s Wrigleyville neighborhood.
VIP tickets are for in-person attendees only. VIP Tickets Include:
guaranteed table seating;
a post-show photo with the cast (shared on our social media channels as patrons desire);
and a goody bag of nerdy treasures!
VIP+ tickets include all of the above PLUS:
reserved front row seating;
and a complimentary drink ticket redeemable at The Newport Theater bar.
COVID PRECAUTIONS: The Newport Theater encourages audience members to wear masks unless actively drinking. Open Barre Burlesque and the Newport Theater provide additional masks, hand sanitizer, and other types of PPE.
Please be advised: The Newport Theater is up a flight of stairs (no elevator). Email [email protected] for seating accommodations.
GEEKS’N’CHEEKS is a burlesque show and contains adult content. This show is 21+.
Follow us on social media for show info, sneak peeks, performer spotlights, and other sparkly surprises we share with our fans, and visit our website to sign up for our newsletter and never miss a show! IG: @openbarreburlesque www.minniebarre.com/open-barre-burlesque
0 notes
heylittlestellbird · 4 months
Text
₊𝜗𝜚 ⊹ 𝐴𝑉𝐸 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑆 𝑆𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐴 。
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀!˚。— free palestine, Straight Ally, She/Her, sixteen. september Virgo, History/Mythology Kinnie, Hispanic/Mexican/Palestinian, child of Apollo, writer, devout catholic,high school sophomore
Avemarisstella -> HeylittleStellBird
[LOVES] ᡣ𐭩 Ride the Cyclone ᡣ𐭩 GCU ᡣ𐭩 Writing ᡣ𐭩 hazbin hotel ᡣ𐭩 Angels ᡣ𐭩 pjo/hoo ᡣ𐭩 History ᡣ𐭩 Mythology ᡣ𐭩 Catholocism ᡣ𐭩 Books ᡣ𐭩 Booktok ᡣ𐭩 Sailor Moon ᡣ𐭩 Law and Order ᡣ𐭩 Musicals ᡣ𐭩 True crime ᡣ𐭩 Forensics ᡣ𐭩 Pyschology ᡣ𐭩 Singing ᡣ𐭩 Electric Guitar ᡣ𐭩 church history ᡣ𐭩 Theater ᡣ𐭩 TLOKD ᡣ𐭩 my Rtc Kids AU ᡣ𐭩 Nerdy Prudes must die
Books -> [series] The inheritance games, shatter me, the folk of the air, the twisted series, Kings of Sin, Off Campus Series, PJO, HOO, TOA, Dreamland Billionares, Lakefront billionares, when in rome series, Aru Shah and the end of time, The Summer I turned Pretty, A touch of darkness, Dark Olympus, A good girl's guide to Murder [standalones] Better than the movies, if he had been with me, Icebreaker, Girl Abroad, A Thousand Boy Kisses, Keykeyi, Underneath the sycamore tree, Circe, the song of achilles, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, daisy jones and the six
Music -> Taylor Swift, Melanie Martinez, Mitski, Lana Del Rey, Gus Halper, Chaz Duffy, Sierra Boggess, Selena Quintanilla, Stromae, Panic! at the Disco, Queen, the Beatles, Sera Myu, Fleetwood Mac, Marina, SZA, Renee Rapp, Tiffany Tatreau, Guns and Roses, Queen, The Beatles
Movies/tv shows -> Law and Order True Crime: the Menendez murders, Love Life, Dickinson, Holler, Barbie: the movie, K-12, PJO, Law and order svu, hazbin hotel, Bridgerton, passion of the christ, daisy jones and the six, Emily in Paris, The Summer I turned pretty, the chosen
Misc -> Mischa Bachinski, Electirc Guitars, Writing, Collecting CDS, New York City, traveling
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
forgedlegacy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
you're a story people come back to often, their safe place, their little haven. they don't find everything they need in it, yet they are never disappointed by the way you unfold, because you give them the right amount of hope for them to keep going for a long time. they read you as a kid, as an adult, as an elder, as a ghost maybe. they never get tired from you. you're a story about love, not necessarily romantic love, but you're definitely about how a lonely heart can open to other hearts just like flowers bloom after a long winter. you make people cry sometimes, and it's okay. you're not there to tell them life is perfect. you're there to tell them to stay. the thing is: who is holding onto you? who is fixing your torn pages?
exploring the following tropes: the legacy character, black and nerdy, the cutie, little miss badass, the pollyanna, taking up the mantle, parents as people, why couldn't you be different
Tumblr media
an independent, private, selective writing blog for ensign sidney la forge from star trek: picard, as dreamed by odette. this is for now a low-activity blog, as i play around with the sidney, react to the latest season of picard, and focus on having fun. all trek spoilers will be tagged with ' picard spoilers / ' if you want to filter it out!! this is a sideblog to @bever7y. carrd.
odette. 26. brazil.
( i ) treat people with kindness. no bigotry of any kind will be allowed, and no rudeness will be tolerated either. i always try to create a safe, calm place for me and my mutuals, and that's the vibe we are going with here.
(ii) this is a blog for a female muse and i no longer have the patience for dealing with people who want to use my female muses as either a stop to get to my male muses, or as sidekicks. sidney and i deserve better than that.
(iii) no star trek knowledge is necessary. i always have a bunch of verses ready or we can think of something together !
(iv) this is a low-activity blog, and i will try avoiding using a queue here. i want to be present and have fun.
(v) beta editor + trim reblogs, please.
(vi) i love plotting and this blog will be hopefully more plot-based. come at me with ideas, or like my plotting calls so i can come holler at you! i really hope we get to talk and write together!
(vii) shipping: i love shipping, i think it's great, i think it's wonderful, i will never force-ship anyone, and i will bite your head and block you if you try to force a ship on me. sidney is bisexual!
0 notes
nerdierholler · 6 months
Text
Scenes I love in Pride and Prejudice 2005 that aren't the hand flex, rainy proposal, or foggy morning walk:
Charlotte telling Lizzie she's marrying Mr. Collins: "Don't you dare judge me." Yes Charlotte tell her! This drives home the reality for someone in her situation. She's an old maid at 28, the clock is ticking. Mr Collins may be an obnoxious fool but he's unlikely to treat her poorly, run up debts, or cheat on her so he's not a terrible choice at the wire.
Lizzie staring into the mirror when Darcy leaves the letter: Listen, I think we've all had the moment in our lives when everything seemed to be going wrong and all we could do was stare into space and dissociate a little. But also, ya know, cause when Darcy shows up he's looking a little more casual. I see that loose shirt without a vest or cravat sir.
Lizzie on the rocky overlook: The music, the scenery, the fact that it's the DVD menu screen and I woke up to it looping in the background after falling asleep more times than I can count. I know I'm not alone in this.
Lizzie in the sculpture gallery: Weirdly, this was the scene that took my breath away the first time I watched the movie. That statue of the veiled vestal virgin is just fucking breathtaking. Plus the general vibes of the whole scene with the music and everything as Lizzie begins to soften towards Darcy.
The scramble to look suitably engaged when Bingley shows up: It's a little moment of comedy . Overall about this movie I just love the messiness of the family and how lived in everything feels. Is it historically accurate? No. Do I care? Also no. It's about the vibes. And I just like the family not entirely being terrible people and hating each other. Not what Austen wrote but I think the softened edges work well for a movie adaptation, especially to appeal to modern audiences. Follow up along the same lines is the bedtime "I know she could not be so beautiful for nothing" scene.
243 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 4 months
Text
Mason walks up behind Andie with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, opening it and wrapping it around her (hands still in his pockets, the cold hands never leave the pockets) then rests his chin on her head and mutters "You're warm."
Felix's eyes sparkle with mischief, "Andie, I love your new coat and matching hat. Very stylish."
"Thanks," she quips back, "it's vintage," rolling her eyes up toward Mason.
"Hey, some things only get better with age, sweetheart." With Mason's chest pressed against her back, every word reverberates through her body.
"It really spoke to me," she continues, ignoring Mason's comment, "I can really feel the previous owner's presence."
"Ha. Ha." Mason deadpans. Then without another word, he leans down and picks up Andie, still wrapped in his coat, and carries her away, feet playfully kicking a few inches off the ground, from a laughing Felix.
74 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 5 months
Text
Just over here thinking about M sleeping next to the detective. It should be the worst thing ever. They can hear the detective breathing like a wind machine next to them, every movement cascades through the mattress into their body, and heaven forbid the detective gets up for a drink of water or to go to the bathroom.
But instead all of those little things are soothing. Listening to the detective and feeling them move reminds M of their presence, that they’re close and everything is alright. When the detective does get up, M is immediately aware, at first there are moments of panic that something’s wrong until they figure out the detective’s sleep habits, but then it’s just annoyance and discomfort. The sheets are too itchy, the blankets suddenly feel too warm, every night noise is amplified in their ears, until the detective returns. They snuggle in next to M, curling next to them or placing a hand on M’s arm. All is right with the world again and M can enjoy a few moments of calm sleep.
94 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 18 days
Text
Ohhhh, the clouds are clearing here and the eclipse should just be starting. It won’t get to the max for us for another hour plus. I can’t find my glasses though so sneaking peaks through the phone might have to do.
37 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 11 days
Text
I was tagged a few days ago by @serially-wayhaven for WIP show and tell and I now have more progress on my attempted Wayhaven binding. I printed out a book! Holy shit! Looks like real book pages and everything!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I ordered some supplies for putting all of the pages together and that will hopefully be here in the next week. It does mean this is on hold again until then while I wait and also absorb a bunch of tutorials.
Tagging for anytime this week or whenever in the future @evilbunnyking @nat-seal-well @nsewell and back at @serially-wayhaven
36 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 1 year
Text
Thinking about the detective's relationship with Rebecca this morning. I wonder if, especially with a low relationship, you will have the chance to ask what she thinks Rook would have done if she had been the one to die and he'd had to raise the detective alone. Obviously she was more involved in the Agency than he was, even at that point, since he was only a liaison, but would he have given up that side of his life and focused in raising the detective instead or would he have tried to juggle both like she did?
My gut says he would have left the Agency. The man got up early to make breakfast for the family every day, I think he would do everything to maintain a work life balance so his child didn't feel like they'd lost two parents instead of one. And I think bringing that up would be a total gut punch to Rebecca.
"At least Rook would have cared enough to be around when I growing up." Or the dreaded "I wish he hadn't been the one that died." Oof.
204 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just sharing some of my mom’s amazing beadwork.
57 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 18 days
Text
Just putting this here for "what exactly are N's tier X powers?" reasons.
The anger falls from Rebecca's expression, replaced only by worry. She stares back down at the detective, taking her son's hand in her shaking one.
Adam looks over towards Nate, who gives a slight nod of understanding.
Stepping up beside Rebecca, Nate places an arm around her shoulders. "They need to get Ethan to the facility. They can help him there."
28 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 7 months
Text
Soooooo finally got the Halsin romance to trigger today and I have no regrets. I also just love the idea of him watching Astarion and Durge from a far. Two people who have had a shit time of it and are trying to figure out who they are not who someone else expects them to be. Durge is trying to figure out how to be a good person and, arguably, is pulling Astarion along with him, albeit kicking and screaming at times.
Halsin sees this and can’t help by fall for such growth, he’s a druid after all, but also wants to be something steady, a support when they need it. He might also do it to keep nudging them in the direction of not becoming all powerful terrors because those two could be the best thing to happen to each other or the worst. Mostly it’s about the loving and nurturing though.
56 notes · View notes