#may as well list some references i guess

[lordofthesoups]

I wrote something!

This is mostly original work from my brain, although my lungs helped.

She’d been in and out of prison for too long and too many times, so that she’d gained an almost sixth sense, could feel the glare of cameras and hear the static of recorder, or so she claimed. Said she’d had nothing else to do in those cold white boxes except stare at the wall of cameras watching them watching her.  

She escaped, obviously.  

Said she had the help of a group of data miners, go by the name “the 7”. The 7 hacked into the prison-moon’s mainframe, didn’t exactly tell her how, but whatever they did must have worked. Turned the cameras black and the doors to open. The problem with automated security is no matter how many firewalls and failsafes you put up, an experienced and expensive group like The 7 only need to huff and puff to blow it all down.  

She never exactly said what it cost her. 

Some think she used to be a princess of the Charming crime family- charming only in name, brutal in nature. Some say her stepmother wanted her dead- hired a bounty hunter who hasn’t been seen since. Others say she betrayed the Sisters and we all know what happens to people who are dumb enough to do that. Whatever they say, they always forget to mention that she's lost her fortune and is now stuck, slumming it with the rest of us down here in the core... or at least she was, before King Cole took an interest. 

The withered crime lord wanted to see if she really had the powers she claimed to possess. Got one, or should I say, three of his pigs to pick her up while she was in a drunken stupor outside Rumpelstiltskin's. That’s the roughest bar in the roughest part of the city; turns its barley to gold with marked up prices only the really desperate are willing to pay.  

When she awoke on the floor of the warehouse Cole calls his castle, she was offered a bet: if she could find the recording device, he’d let her go, offer a job and the like. If it turned out she was lying, she’d be shot, simple as. She agreed. It wasn’t a hard toss-up between get shot or possibly not get shot, apparently. 

The King hid a micro recorder in her room and waited. 

#orignal story #orignial work #fairytale #fairy tales #genre bending #cyberpunk #steampunk #fantasy #i make stuff up #lots of it inspired by the mechanisms #they have taken over my brain #grimms fairy tales #cinderella #snow white #princess and the pea #rumplestiltskin #King cole #3 pigs #went overboard on the tags #may as well list some references i guess #story writing #creative writing #fiction #fiction writing #The bowl speaks #Shameless overtagging

[vaspider]

Hi there! Hope you’re having a good day mama spider. Just dropping by to ask for some info on an addition to a post about Judaism you made. I chose to ask you and not op because i’ve sent you an ask before and know that you answer them. So real quick, why did you type out G-d rather than God or god? Does it have something to do with Judaism? Is it just for the faithful to follow and not goyim? As an atheist who was formerly Catholic i just wanna learn more and be respectful of others’ religions whenever i can. I know next to nothing about Judaism, even though they’re a good portion of my county’s population. Hope this ask isn’t insensitive in any way, and thanks for taking the time to read this <3

This isn't insensitive to ask. It's actually a great question, and I'm glad that you asked if you're curious.

Since those articles cover your asks pretty well, I'm gonna give you some free bits of info to help your quest for respectfulness, which is pretty rad, btw: we don't really use phrases like "the faithful" bc Judaism doesn't require faith in G-d. There is no conflict between Judaism and atheism & there are a lot of Jewish atheists and agnostics. Judaism is an ethnoreligion and a people in a way that a lot of religions aren't, and in fact, the symbolism for one of my favorite holidays emphasizes that we are not complete without all kinds of Jews:

The functions of the four species are defined by both their smell and taste, or lack thereof, along with some interesting imagery from the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 30:12): The etrog has both taste and smell, representing people who both perform good deeds and have Torah (knowledge). The lulav has taste but no smell, representing those who do not use their knowledge to perform good deeds. The hadass (myrtle) has smell but no taste, representing those who perform good deeds but lack the knowledge to excel at them. The aravah (willow) has no taste and no smell, representing those who lack both.

"Good deeds" here doesn't just mean "being nice to your neighbors" but refers directly to performing mitzvot/mitzvahs, the 613 commandments that observant Jews observe to varying levels of specificity and intensity.

It's not offensive to use a phrase like "the faithful," just isn't ... correct, you know? Instead, you'd just say Jews or Jewish people. If you're trying to refer specifically to Jews who are religious or believe in G-d... there isn't exactly a phrase for that, I guess you'd say "observant," because there are a lot of Jews who are observant but also atheists, since observant Jews may be observing mitzvaot for any number of reasons that have nothing to do with belief in the existence of G-d.

Anyway, there you go, with some bonus info. As always, I don't speak for everybody, 2 Jews 3 Opinions, etc.

#Judaism #jumblr

[our-lesboy-experience]

hiii!!! so uh, this is sorta about 'contradicting' (?) identities in general, but i only recently found out about, like, lesboys and gaygirls and all of that, but what is it exactly? like how does it work? or is that weird to ask? i'm trying figuring myself out but a lot of stuff i've seen doesn't exactly... explain it (or explain it well), and while i guess i do get why, it's just kinda hard to understand it myself for my own identity

also, probably a question you get a lot in a hating way, but isn't the definition of lesbian nonman loving nonman? so then how does lesboy work? like is it for people with more complicated gender identites, like fluctuating genders and bigender? just genuinly confused, my apologies...

sorry for not getting to this sooner- been busier lately and didn't have the time to collect everything I needed to respond!

About what it exactly means to be a lesboy or a gaygirl ('turigirl' is the more common term, 'turi' meaning turian, another word for gay attraction to men. so I'll be referring to it as that from now on), there isn't exactly....one right way to call yourself such. it really depends on the person, but I can give you a basic definition and a list of common reasons someone may call themselves such

im gonna put a read more because this ended up being super long so sorry

lesboy is a term for any lesbian who may have a connection to manhood and/or masculinity. turigirl is just the opposite of that, a gay person (mlm/nblm) who may have a connection to womanhood and/or femininity. common reasons I've seen are:

being multigender or genderfluid

being cusper/in between trans and cis gnc (in between trans man and cis gnc woman, in between trans woman and cis gnc man)

being a system who uses lesboy/turigirl as a collective identity or when identities blur together

a person who uses man/boy or woman/girl as a means of masculine or feminine gender expression but not actually identifying as such

being a trans man/ftm or a trans woman/mtf who still identifies as lesbian or gay for personal reasons

those are far from all the reasons, everyone has their own unique experiences, but the gist is these people may have some sort of connection to manhood/womanhood while still having a queer attraction. personally, I'm multigender, genderfluid, and transmasc. lesboy I find is a nice label to express being both my bigender self and being a lesbian, as it forces people to acknowledge both without separating the two. it's cute and makes me feel validated!

as for "nonman attracted to nonmen" definition of lesbian......it has its issues. it's received criticism all around from all sorts of lesbians in the community. this definition is very new - it emerged only in the recent years, and someone on twitter had date searched it and found it didn't even really exist before 2019. and having that as the one and only official definition that every lesbian has to abide by, when lesbian is a centuries old word with so much history behind it, is a bit ignorant. people who are multiple genders or ftm or bi being lesbian is not even remotely new, going back decades upon decades, and it never stopped existing too. It's a bit weird to have a whole new definition that doesn't include all sorts of lesbians that have been here for so long and just tell them they're not welcomed anymore, right?

that's not even close to the only issue there is with it. it's been disliked for centering lack of attraction to men, or defining lesbian in relation to men, rather than who we're actually attracted to. putting nonbinary people in a new binary of either being "men or nonmen," which not all feel comfortable putting themselves into. especially when considering a definition of gay being "nonwomen attracted to nonwomen," man-woman bigender people are simultaneously excluded from being both lesbian or gay. It inherently overlaps with mspec identity ("attraction to nonmen, which is more than one gender" and "any orientation that involves attraction to more than one gender" kinda obviously overlap), despite people insisting that a lesbian can never be mspec. people have found multiple loopholes in it, (which I can elaborate on if someone wants me to, for the sake of trying to make this as short as possible), and lastly, and term "nonman" (and nonwoman) were found to have existed before to describe the degendering of black people in society. this isn't the only source I've seen for this, but sadly I can't exactly find it (or find it without going back to that hellsite called twitter and I'm not doing that to myself)

oh and as the link points out, defining lesbian by these words also ends up excluding a lot of two-spirit people from ever identifying as lesbian, myself included. which is also really racist. I don't know how you're gonna end up excluding a whole cultural gender that's common for indigenous americans to describe themselves with and try to prove it somehow isn't racist, to be honest

and lastly, some surveys/polls have shown that the definition isn't the most widely accepted by lesbians as people make it out to be. there's this simple poll that someone posted asking how lesbians felt about the definition that received 1,529 responses, and 61.1% of voters said they disliked it. comments gave lots of reasons I've stated already. there was another survey put out that received 211 responses that for any lesbian who had a genderqueer or unique relationship with gender, and one of the questions asking opinions on the "nonmen loving nonmen" as a definition. the average among the group was slightly negative (average 2.838), and reported that the group who tended to feel the most positively about it didn't consider themselves to be trans, with the other positive leaning group considered themselves to be somewhat cis. the group that felt the most negatively sometimes considered themselves to be trans. and of the multigender participants, the average opinion was 2.255 (more negative than the overall average). When concluding, the original poster stated, "When divided by gender, the only groups to feel positive about this definition were "not trans" and "somewhat cis" participants. Multigender participants felt especially negative about this definition"

all of this shows that this definition isn't nearly the best for everyone who considers themselves a lesbian. I know it's been a way to include nonbinary people who are lesbian in it's definition, but I think it really misunderstands why nonbinary people are included in lesbianism in the first place, and just assumes that all nonbinary people aren't men and fails to recognize that multigender/genderfluid people are nonbinary too. and it's not like lesbian has to only have on definition- it can definitely have multiple and depend on each person's experience with it. if someone personally defines them being lesbian around being a nonman attracted to nonmen, and takes pride in not being attracted to men, that's totally fine. what becomes a problem is forcing all lesbians to define themselves like this and make it the standard, or else they're "not real lesbians." it is ahistorical and ignorant to require this or else you'll strip them of their lesbian status, and is really at the end of the day, lesbophobic. especially as a requirement that primarily exists in online spaces. im sure the lesbian who is not at all connected to these circles doesn't particularly care about strict requirements or whether someone is a "nonman" or not. in conclusion, it is not the best nor most accepted definition of lesbian, and deciding which lesbians are valid or not based solely on that definition is pretty exclusionary and ends up policing a lot of lesbians, myself included

#lesboy #turigirl #lesbian #gay #multigender #genderfluid #mspec lesbian #asks #tw exclusionism #tw queerphobia #lesbophobia #I can definitely elaborate on some points if asked #I do have some thoughts I've never shared before

[leighsartworks216]

Feel Good

Astarion x transmasc!Tav/Reader x Gale Dekarios

Requested by Dirtyramen on AO3:

“can I request a fic abt Astarion just being soft/caretake-ish to Tav while they recovery from top surgery? (or, I guess whatever might be the equivalent to it in the world of baldurs gate haha) maybeeeeee in a poly relation with gale if it tickles your fancy?

-also if Tara could be mentioned somewhere that would be adorable but not at all necessary, I just love her LOL-“

Gale may be OOC in this, I've never really written him before, but it felt right to have him there

Title is based on "Feel Good" by Ryan Nealon. Doesn't fit 100%, but I feel like this could be a good reference to how Tav felt before their magical top surgery

Warnings: mentions of chest scars, insecurity, mentions/references to dysphoria, crying, implied sexual antics at the end

Word Count: 1,699

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You can’t stop staring at your body in the mirror. Just behind the protective bandages lay the chest you’ve dreamed of having - and it terrifies you. What if it came out wrong? What if you hated it? What if having a flat chest makes you feel worse about your body? The thoughts spiral, questioning every single thing you thought you knew about yourself. You frown at your reflection.

Hands on your hips startle you from your mind, as soft lips against the back of your neck chuckle. Astarion - forever the rogue.

“Admiring yourself, my love?” he teased.

You sigh. You wish you were. You wish you just knew what it looked like. Just a little peek and surely you’d feel better about it all. He rests his chin on your shoulder when you don’t speak, smoothing his hands over your stomach, just below the wrappings. You rest your hands over his, focusing on your reflection’s hovering hands as you run your fingers against his prominent veins.

“What if I don’t like it?” you whisper. “What if I was wrong?”

“Darling, you’ve been gushing over this for months. Why are you worried now?”

“I just…” You dare to raise your eyes to your chest again. Flat. Years and years spent hating your chest, crying and spitting vitriol at yourself for how it made you feel. “I just want to feel okay in my body, Star,” you finally admit, to yourself and your partner. “What if this isn’t it? What if it doesn’t help?”

He hums, considering. “It seemed easy enough to magic your breasts away, I’m sure Gale could find some spell that would bring them back.”

You chuckle despite the emotions in your chest. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Your hands slide off his as he turns you around, away from the mirror. “The worst that could happen is you don’t like it. And if that happens - which I don’t believe it will for a second - we’ll help you find what’s right. Until you’re comfortable.”

You can’t stop the grin that tugs at your lips. “You can be really sweet when you want to be.”

He smirks. “Don’t tell anybody.” He gives you a quick kiss, though you can feel how reluctant he is to pull away. “Now, come on, off to bed. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“What are you, my mother?” Despite your words, you follow along with him easily as he leads you by the hand through the tower back to your bedroom, only a few doors down. You had a mirror, of course, but this was the only full-body mirror in the place. Gale kept saying he would move it to your room, but he always got sidetracked, always distracted by new questions that needed answers.

Astarion had his reservations of living with the wizard at first, but even he couldn’t deny how comfortable it was here. It was far better than any other option available to him at the time. Not to mention he was always around if Gale had any ideas on how to cure his undead affliction.

And, well, perhaps he didn’t completely despise him, but the world would burn before he ever admitted it.

He leads you through your door, as natural as though it were his own bedroom. He did have his own, but, truthfully, he much preferred spending time in yours. When he wasn’t perusing the wide collection of books scattered in mostly-organized shelves and piles, that is.

He lets go of your hand to open your blankets, and he helps you slide under them so you can lay on your back. He crawls in after you. You’ve learned to scoot over a bit beforehand, so he’s not constantly shifting to avoid falling off the edge, or whining about the blanket not covering his ass, all because he refuses to go around and lay on the other, wide-open half of the bed.

His arms wrap snugly around your waist, though he refrains from resting his head on your chest as he normally would, opting instead to curl into your side, resting his head on your shoulder by your neck. There’d be plenty of time for proper cuddles once you were fully recovered. Unable to roll to your side, you opt to tangle a hand in his hair and rest the other on his arm. It wasn’t the same, but it was comfortable nonetheless.

“A few more hours, Gale will return, and you’ll get to see,” he murmurs against your skin. He presses a kiss below your jaw. “And I’ll get to see you, my handsome man.”

The phrase makes you flush. He smiles when he hears your heart beat faster. You let out a slow, shaky breath. “He needs to get back sooner.”

He chuckles, but says nothing more. You tilt your head to rest against his and close your eyes. Visions of your chest before mixed with fantasies of what it looked like now. It was still so difficult to grasp the fact it truly was flat. Whenever Astarion would help you change into fresh clothes (after he gently wipes you down with a damp sponge, as you are unable to bathe until the bandages are removed), you’d have a moment of confusion when you flipped through the stack of folded clothes and didn’t find a bra. In fact, you’d gotten rid of them all right after your procedure. Gale had to stop you (and Astarion) from lighting them on fire as celebration.

With the images, your anxiety spikes again. It’ll be fine, you know it will be… By what if it isn’t? You want to relax into a nap, pass the time warm and comfortable with your vampire partner until Gale got back, but your mind would not let you.

You sigh in frustration. You press your lips to his head as you quietly murmur, “Will you read to me?”

He sighs, too, long and dramatic. He only half means it. He truly does not like having to pull away from you to sit up, but he does quite enjoy flipping open the book from the side table and continuing the story where you left off. You press your face into his side and he combs his fingers through your hair mindlessly as he weaves a tale of romance and intrigue. He doesn’t stop reading until he is certain you are asleep.

-

You cover your eyes, elbows lifted to the sides. You can barely stay still, rocking back and forth between your feet and fighting not to bounce on your heels. You groan. “Are you almost done?”

Gale huffs a laugh. You can feel it ghost along the back of your neck. “Patience, dear. You’ll see soon enough.” His fingers finally work out the knot in the bandages, and you almost gasp as he unwraps them from your body.

The air feels odd against the clammy skin. Even weirder is the feeling of his warm hand pressing supportively in between your shoulder blades.

“Okay. You can look now.”

You take a breath in. You lowered your hands to your sides, but taking that final step felt overwhelming. Gale’s thumb rubbed against your skin, silently encouraging you, as Astarion came to your side to hold your hand. It was now or never.

It takes a moment for your brain to process. It’s so different. You step closer to the mirror. They let you go, standing back and watching with wide grins. (You can see Gale’s proud smile in the mirror, but you don’t pay him much mind.) You turn to the side. Flat. You delicately brush your hands over your chest. Flat. Tears well in your eyes. You try to blink them away so you can watch as you trace a finger over the scars left behind. The magic was experimental, Gale had worried it would leave a larger mark, but he trusted the Weave more than any surgeon.

A wide smile overwhelms your face as you laugh. A weight has been lifted off your chest, literally and metaphorically. You feel like you can breathe looking at the figure before you. You don’t feel dread looking at your chest anymore. You can’t fight the tears anymore as they pour freely down your cheeks, carrying years of dysphoria with them and leaving trails of relief behind.

You turn and rush straight to your partners, wrapping your arms around them and pulling yourself as close as possible. Gale’s hand rested at the back of your neck as his other held your hip. Astarion stroked comforting shapes into your spine. A gasping sob wracked your body.

“Are you alright, my love?” Astarion asks gently. “Is it alright?”

You laugh again, nodding eagerly. “It’s perfect. It’s perfect,” you gasp between your emotions. You pull away and wipe at your eyes, but when you look down at your chest again they come in another wave. “Oh my gods, look at me.”

“I’m having a rather hard time taking my eyes off of you,” Gale teases.

Astarion chuckles, receiving a quirked brow from the wizard he did not want to address. “I hate to say I told you so, but… You look absolutely stunning, my handsome man.”

“Hm, you’ll have to share that moniker, you know.” Gale smirks as the vampire scowls. “Our handsome man.”

You sniffle, trying futilely to dry your face. “If you keep saying that, I’m gonna cry again,” you joke, but they know you’re right. You gasp and light up. They don’t have time to ask what’s wrong before you’re rushing out of the room, shouting, “I have to tell Tara! Tara! Where are you?! My bandages are off!”

They smile fondly, listening as your voice becomes more distant. Astarion turns mischievously toward the wizard. “Sooo, how much longer does our darling have to rest now?”

“Well, he should avoid any strenuous activities for another week, at least. Why? What did you have in mind?”

“Hm. Would laying down, receiving endless praise from his two partners while we lavish his body with generous care and attention count as strenuous?”

Gale thought for a moment. “If he’s laying down…”

Astarion smirked deviously. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @cyber-dump-171 @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @yarn_yogi @tototini

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader #astarion x gale #gale x astarion #galestarion #bloodweave #astarion x tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate gale #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #transmasc reader #x transmasc reader

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Here's what you missed on Hatchetfield...

Okay so Nerdy Prudes Must Die is happening in a month's time and I'm aware that lots of people who enjoyed guy who didn't like musicals and black friday might not have had time to watch nightmare time. While Nick has said this musical will be fully stand alone and no knowledge of nightmare time is required, nonetheless some of you might be curious about what we've learned that might come up

Presenting a tldr lore drop for nightmare time:

1) Wiggly has brothers (aka the Lords in Black)

You remember Wiggly from black friday? That ugly green little fucker? Well turns out he has brothers. They call themselves the Lords in black because they're pretentious little fucks and they all have different 'powers'.

Itemised list

Pokey (pokotho) - mind control type stuff, likes to make hiveminds

Wiggly (Wiggog Y'wrath) - idk you saw black friday whatever the fuck goes on there

Blinky (blinklotep) - massive eye, likes watching things

Tinky (T'noy karaxis) - fucks with time

Nibbly (nibblenephem) - massive mouth, eats shit

You've actually met Pokey before - remember the blue shit from guy who didn't like musicals? That's the same blue shit leaking out of the cracks in pokey's face in the picture above.

They also have a sister called Webby that I believe Hannah references in Black Friday. We don't know much about her but thus far she seems like a good guy

2) Grace Chasity is a nerdy prude

Remember the girl Bill is trying to set Alice up in guy who didn't like musicals because 'at least she's nice to him in church'?

Well turns out Alice was right. Grace Chasity is a nerdy prude. And also coincidentally one of the main characters of Nerdy Prudes Must Die (to be played by Angela Giarratana).

We meet her in nightmare time 2 (episode 2 part 2) which takes place at a religious camp designed to educate people about the perils of pre marital sex.

Grace Chasity is, well she's many things, but she is very much the stereotype of an American evangelical Christian. She even showers with a swimming costume on so as not to tempt herself into sin.

Despite all this, however, she is a devious motherfucker who will absolutely fuck you up

3) You remember Ted from guy who didn't like musicals...

Well not only are he and the homeless guy the same person (time travel, its a whole thing, blame the yellow guy from the Lords in black photo)

But also we learn that his surname is Spankoffski (because of course it is) and he has a 'nerdy little brother' called Pete Spankoffski who will be one of the leads in nerdy prudes. In nightmare time he's played by Nick Lang but in nerdy prudes he'll be played by Joey Richter

We meet Pete in nightmare time 2 (episode 2 part 2) but we've actually met him before in guy who didn't like musicals. You remember hot chocolate boy? The one who had very low blood sugar?

Yup you guessed it that is one Peter Spankoffski

(If you've been super out of the loop and are wondering why he was recast and for that matter where the heck is Robert anyway just trust that that is a whole thing im not going to get into and it's for the best he's gone)

4) Meet the Lauters

Two more characters who have been announced for NPMD who we met in nightmare time 2 are Stephanie Lauter (Mariah Rose Faith) and her father Solomon Lauter (Corey Dorris)

Steph is actually pretty nice and chill on the inside but definitely has a reputation for being a bit of a party animal/wild child.

This isn't helped by her father who is the mayor of hatchetfield and from what little we see of him will always put his career before his daughter.

Steph and Pete hook up in nightmare time so look out for a possible romance between these two

5) What the fuck is a Holloduke?

You may have seen the word 'holloduke' batted a lot around this fandom lately which refers to the ship of two characters that we've been introduced to through nightmare time.

While it's unclear if either of them will appear in nerdy prudes, given that both Kim and Curt are in the cast and they go a long way out of their way in nightmare time to show Kim's character getting a job at Hatchetfield High in set up for *something* a lot of people think there's a good chance she at least will be appearing.

The Hollo of these characters is called Miss Holloway although at the end of nightmare time she ends up ret conning herself and is forced to assume a new identity as Miss Holiday so if we meet her in nerdy prudes that will likely be her name. She is a witch who has a deep love for all things 80s. We don't know a huge amount about her but that might be because she's cursed(?) so that anything she reveals about her backstory will be instantly wiped from the mind of the listener.

Curts character is an ordinary social worker called Duke who among other things works with Hannah and Lex when they're having troubles with their mum. He's in love with Miss Holloway/Holiday, and it's reciprocated, but due to the curse(?) et al things keep not quite working out for them.

They're both absolutely wonderful people who deserve the world and are absolute OTP fodder

6) The Gift

We don't know a huge amount about this yet but we do know that some people in Hatchetfield, notably including Hannah from black friday have something called 'the gift' which gives them some loose powers

Most people grow out of the gift as they go through puberty, for instance Lex also used to have it, but they may be able to use it in some scenarios (such as manifesting a firearm from the black and white as Lex does in Black Friday)

People with the gift were historically persecuted in Hatchetfield by a group of people called 'the hatchet men' who may or may not have turned them into trees(?)

7) The Black Book

There is a book of spells called the black book which Miss Holloway/Holiday uses to do her magic

#starkid #hatchetfield #guy who didnt like musicals #tgwdlm #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #black friday #nightmare time

[ivyithink]

me? excited for this fucked up dynamic in the upcoming seasons of iwtv? who could have guessed…

AND! listen, i would have put this under the cut, but there’s plenty there already, and I NEED to share. I usually listen to music while drawing, and this piece was not an exception. and while I do have my own iwtv playlist and also the show ost on hand, i was listening to a random mix of my other saved songs. and the goddamn “без бою” by океан ельзи starts playing, and i almost fell from my chair with how hilarious i suddenly found it. I don’t think someone who isn’t ukrainian can fully understand why I could barely breathe for like ten minutes, but if I were trying to explain it: it’s an incredibly popular ukrainian song, it was EVERYWHERE when I was growing up, and it’s always been the embodiment of Heterosexuality (TM) for me (I’m not even sure why exactly). but surprisingly enough some of the lyrics fit weirdly well with these two, and it gave me such a delightfully bizarre whiplash… I will leave those specific lines in the comments(?) under this post, and i do actually recommend the song! it may be overplayed here, but it’s genuinely a good song!))

this piece is actually one of those I’ve already done for this fun art prompts challenge! (@icryink, thank you for the prompts!!) I came across it accidentally, but loved the idea a lot, because cringe IS dead, and I have actually never drawn many, MANY things on that list. so I’m doing this challenge mostly for myself (and my interpretations of the prompts are very much influenced by my lack of knowledge about much of that stuff; and also by my “little shit who does not want to do what they’re told to” nature, a bit…)

i do plan to post everything, after I’m done with it, probably combining most of the pieces into a few posts.

BUT, like this one, I’ll post a few of them separately, just because it feels more right to me!

this prompt was: day 7 — pinterest art base. not sure how exactly I was supposed to interpret this, but i just decided to take one of my many pinterest references and do something with it. and ta-da, the result!))

#my art #interview with the vampire #iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv armand #lesmand #also #cringetober 2023 #because of the prompt that inspired it all)))

[maybe-arts]

ATTENTION KIRBLR

YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO

KIRBY'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!

Remember the big collab we've done last year over at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server? Well, this year we're doing it again!!! And guess what?

You are encouraged to participate too!

What is required from me?

Not much - just pick a single character from Kirby's canon and draw them celebrating Kirby's birthday! The theme this year is "photographs": everyone at Kirby's birthday party are taking a BIIIIIIG group photo with him, and we're trying to make this (probably) the biggest group photo of all Kirby's friends (and some enemies)!

The only thing I ask is that you don't take characters that have already been claimed. I'm intending this to work on "no dupes" and "first come first serve" basis, but I do believe there's a plenty of friendly faces to pick from!

Right now we would really like to have:

Rick

Kine

Nago

Gooey

Flamberge

Pitch

Elline

Claycia

Can I pick multiple characters?

Yes, you can! In fact, there's more than just a drawing of a single character that you can add: the end goal is to make it into a scrapbook-worth page, so any and all decorations, birthday wishes or additional party photos with your chosen characters are welcome!

Keep in mind, however, that additional characters (if they're separate from your main character) and any extra elements are optional. You're more than welcome to pick them, but only if you're sure you can make it all before deadline.

Are the characters from anime/novels/manga allowed?

Yes, they are! I may have to ask for the character's origin if I'm not familiar with them (ESPECIALLY if it's a novel original, I have not read all of them), but you're free to pick as well known or obscure as you'd like. (I know some people on the server are very interested in adding GSA members to the photo...)

In fact, these are who we'd really like to have from anime:

Tuff

Fololo & Falala

Sir Ebrum

Lady Like

Escargoon

Deadline? What's the deadline?

The deadline for submitting your drawings is April 25th. (You can get in some last-second additions up till April 27th, as I'm free that day, but I will be very nervous.)

There's no deadline for signing up, however, so as long as you're ABSOLUTELY SURE you can whip up something good in a matter of couple of hours, you may add your character up till the dawn of last day, haha! (You will sure give me a surprise with that one.)

Okay, but what if all the characters I know/want are already picked?

I know, with FCFS and how many of characters are beloved, this is bound to happen. Not to worry tho!

I have compiled a list of notable characters in the series with references of where they're from and if they have or have not been claimed. You can easily see, which ones are still up for grabs!

If nothing really catches your eye, you can always try and discuss with people who have taken additional characters to see if they're willing to give away, trade or even collab with you to make your characters interact on the group photo! (Trust me, most of the time they will cooperate, so don't hesitate to reach out!

(Keep in mind, however, that the list ISN'T a strict directive on which characters are allowed or needed to be taken. If you have someone on your mind that I've neglected to put in, you're more than welcome to pick them!)

Alright, I'm in. How do I send my submissions?

Simple! I'm working via Google Sheets this time (mostly bc I don't know how Google Forms work and also so people more easily see which characters are taken), so all you need to do is to check out this little handy-dandy link:

On the first sheet you'll see, there's more information on this collab and requirements, and also a list of people who'd already signed up!

To properly sign up, you'd need to list:

Your nickname (so I'd know how to address to you)

Your Discord username (for communication)

Your Tumblr and/or Bluesky username (for crediting once the finished collab is posted, if you don't have either, Twitter/Instagram/other social media of choice is also fine, just know that the result will be posted only on Twitter and Bluesky)

The character(s) of your choosing (to properly claim them)

Rough placement on the canvas (for me to figure out where to put you, maybe you want your character to hold Kirby, or high-five someone else, or discreetly put up horns to someone when they're not looking!)

Submission download link (for me to download your finished submission and add it to the canvas)

Notes (anything you'd think I'd like/need to know about your choice!)

I'm working in Clip Studio Paint, so if you do to, the easiest option would be to upload your cleaned up and flattened work as .clip file. If your art program of choice is different (like Krita, IbisPaint or PaintTool SAI, for example), you can export your work as either .psd or transparent .png. Where to upload your submission is up to you, Google Drive works in a pinch tho.

But wait! How will people know I've participated in this??

That's exactly what I need your usernames for! As I'm posting this on Tumblr mainly, I'm going to @ you as a method of crediting your submissions (specifically pointing out which part you worked on!). After the finished work is posted, you're free to post your individual submissions - either as a reblog of collab or separate post.

Great! Anything else?

One last moment - the main part of communication about this collab happens over here at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server. (Don't worry, I have permission to promote it.)

It's a chill, fun Kirby-themed server, open to fans of games, anime and novels alike. Are you an artist? Great! Are you a writer? Even better! Do you want to ramble about Lore Implications or just document your 10th 100% completion? Go right ahead! Do you just want to gush about your OCs? People here would LOVE to hear about your little blorbos from your head.

That's it from me! See you around at Kirby's Birthday Party!

#kirby #kirby series #kirby fandom #kirby 32nd anniversary #kirby birthday collab #this will be so much fun trust me #it was incredibly fun last yeah and it'll be even more fun this year #i've opened signing ups and not even 12 hours later we've had 28 people claiming about 35 characters #this is gonna be Juicy

[kojo-is-adorable]

So about Melissa's Lucy room tour, her room is everything I dreamed and more. Firstly Kojo is on there which is awesome since we haven't seen him since season 4 and on the first photo we can also see some motivational posters which is so Lucy, as well as a document behind which says "legal and clinic" and then says about "system, and guide" and then says about endeavours this could be a document from the fertility clinic Lucy was talking about in A.H.S. further proof it could be the fertility clinic is that lower on the sheet it says "divorce?" which could be a section on what happens to the eggs in a divorce.

In the second photo I decide to screenshot Lucy's list of things to do and her note from tamara saying "you got this" which I though was adorable. Also you if you click on the photo you would be able to see some tiny writing below tamara's note which is I was only able to make tour the words "call ... in the afternoon... share" which is not much information but may be a reference to something to do with the episode their filming (7 or 8 I'm guessing).

In the third photo you can read the letter from the undercover academy easily. This shows lucy is still loves undercover work since it's up their with tim, tamara and kojo.

In photo number 4, the iconic copcake is right in the middle which I think is amazing because what girlfriend doesn't have her boyfriend naked on a poster with nothing but a cupcake lol. In the bottom right you can see the sign for pisces which means in the shows very consistent timeline it's nearly Lucy's birthday. Since recently it was valentines day in the show. Or we may have skipped past her birthday in the time skip.

In picture number 5 it has all my favourite things, Tim's I love you note, a thank you note , and a necklace. So obviously we have all heard something about Tim's I love you note. Personally I think it's adorable, like if he had to leave really early or they were on different shifts just leaving notes is the cutest. Thank you note, if i'm correct, says "thank you, for taking such good care of my mom you are an angel, ..." i think the name is cut off which leaves many possibilities on who it is from. Due to the paper an handwriting it looks like stereotypically like a girls so I'm guessing Angela, Nyla or Celina. Now regarding the necklace they might be like things Lucy thought looked cute and put on for aesthetic or she put it on to try and clue Tim in for buying her. The same goes for the dresses that are seen in the video.

One thing that isn't in the video, Lucy got a new bed now she had that bed for a while but did you guys seen how wobbly it was she was well overdue for a new one and I'm guessing Tim is one of the reasons she got a new one.

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #celina juarez #angela lopez #nyla harper #tamara colins #kojo

[dariaslookalike]

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 5: Bargains and Balls

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 6

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

The white envelope sears a hole into your pocket during your journey home. You toss it against your bedside dresser, and imagine it sizzling and scorching the wood.

It sits there for another week before you pick it up again. You blame work, of course. House hadn’t given up completely on making your life a living hell, but it seemed he had relented somewhat. Still, you were running around. Chasing after MRIs and lumbar punctures and CT scans and bloodwork and all the sorts. Cuddy, after your last conversation, seemed determined to make sure you weren’t about to collapse under House. She set up work counselling (that you skipped. Admitting that House was affecting you was admitting defeat, right?), and, by his snarky “Tattle to mummy? You’re just lucky I like seeing her with a whip” comment, she had reamed House out.

Any spare time that you did have at the hospital was taken up with clinic duty. Kids with snotty noses, men with sore backs, women with rashes, teenagers with acne; you had dealt with more incredulous patients in one week than you had during your residency.

So yes. You blame work.

You sit on your bedroom floor, your back pressed to one of the boxes. It has DESK STUFF scrawled across the side in sharpie. Of course, you couldn’t start unpacking until the rest of your bedroom was clean. Starting with the envelope.

You slide open the top and pull out the invitation. Small. A slight silver tinge. An embossed stamp of the hospital’s logo. Overwhelmingly underwhelming.

Still, your stomach curled, and you reread it, over and over. A charity ball, to celebrate the end of winter and more importantly, raise money for some of the hospital’s foundations. It had raffles, auctions, and games. A long list of celebrated donors and a longer list of speakers. You scan the list, and while you see Dr Wilson’s, House’s isn’t shown. Maybe he was shy, beneath all that boisterous toxicity.

You snort to yourself. Not likely.

It takes two more days for you to drag your feet to Pop’s. He’s tinkering away at something by his counter; too many screws and bolts for you to really guess what. But when he sees you, he drops it all, and rushes around the counter to crush you in a hug. You laugh, but it’s swallowed up by the scratchy flannel he’s wearing. He sways you on the spot, and you hug him back, clutching at his back.

When he releases you, his hands land on your cheeks. “You look horrible!”

You laugh and push away at his hands. You can imagine the flecks of dirt and iron on your cheeks, but you make no move to wipe them away. “Gee, thanks.”

He nods, and you follow him back to the counter. You lift yourself up, and sit on the edge, your feet dangling off like a child’s. He picks up what he was working on earlier, and grumbles. “Not rude. Just the truth. You look terrible. Like a ghost.”

You nod, swinging your shoes in front of you. “Work’s been a lot recently.”

His eyes swivel to yours, and his tinkering pauses. “Is it that man again? Home?”

In the past few months, even though you had slowed down on your impromptu home renovations, you had still visited Pop. On slow days, he taught you card games and how to shuffle a deck. In his large hands, the cards were like magic, disappearing and flying through the air. He had not been impressed at the news of your boss. Of course, you omitted some details (like how at one point, you were convinced you wanted to jump his bones), but he got the general gist of House’s behaviour.

Laughing, you shake your head half-heartedly. “A little bit. Even without him though, the job’s just tiring.”

He huffs. “You need food. Sleep. If you go home and get to bed, me and Ella will drop you soup.”

As if summoned, you hear her telltale shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. Ella, Pop’s wife, appears through the small door in the corner that leads to the back. She’s a beautiful woman. Dark, greying ringlets of hair frame her sun-kissed, weathered face, and a store apron is draped across her frame. You push yourself off the counter to stand and her smile is instantaneous. Just as Pop did, she rushes forward to hug you. It’s not as bone-crushing, but you squeeze her back tightly nonetheless. Her green eyes twinkle, and you have to force yourself not to stare at the full lashes that frame them. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You smile. “You too, Eleanora.”

Her smile drops, and she swats at your arm. “Ah, so you call him Pop and all I get is Eleanora? Call me Ella, at least.”

You duck your head and raise your hands in apology. “Of course, of course.”

You had this conversation numerous times in your past visits. Something about her nickname was too endearing. Of course, she was an endearing woman; a wide, toothy smile, rosy cheeks, and golden jewellery hanging across her neck. Yet, she was formidable and intimidating when she wanted to be. That’s what drew you to call her Eleanora. Ella was an amazing cook, and on some of the nights you stayed chatting with Pop until closing, she would push a plate into your hands and demand you eat it. For such a small woman, she could be intense. It was a demand you were willing to oblige.

Happy with your promise to concede, Ella turns and busies herself by tidying Pop’s counter. She replaces the screwdrivers and Allen keys that he has lying about to their home and is a flurry of cleansing movement around the two of you. You know better than to try to help; she had nearly had a hernia the last time you tried sweeping the floor. Ella was a self-sufficient woman and survived alongside Pop without taking advantage of others.

You raise yourself back onto the counter and sigh, looking towards Pops. “I don’t need sleep. I need a dress. At work, we have this biiiiig,” You stretch your hands over your head in a sweeping motion. “Charity event. I have nothing to wear; is there a dress shop around here? Or even a clothing shop?”

No way would you be able to meander into town near the hospital before or after work; the shops opened too late and shut too early. The thick caterpillars that are Pop’s eyebrows, scrunch together, but it’s Ella who stops her flurry and speaks. “No, no, I’ll have something for you.”

You tilt your head to the side and look at her quizzically. She taps your knee and bustles off to the back door. You shoot Pop a look, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Best if you follow her, kid. She’ll drag you up there anyway.”

You nod and push through the back door. It leads to a larger back room, filled to the brim with filing cabinets, and thick, manilla folders that are bursting at the seams. To your left, you turn just in time to see Ella trudging up a sagging staircase. You spare one last fleeting glance at the room and follow her.

While she is able to make it up quietly, the stairs creak in protest underneath you. You sheepishly hasten your steps when Ella makes it to the next floor. There’s a small wooden landing and adjoining doors. Ella has already disappeared into one, so you gingerly open each. The first is a small, but pristine and ornate bathroom. There’s a lounge room, filled with bookshelves and a VHS player. The third is a small kitchen; a window looks outwards to a simple backyard, but you can imagine it in the summer, pushed open and welcoming all sorts of warm sunlight and songbird melodies. Finally, after feeling like the biggest intruder to their home, you find Ella in the bedroom.

She’s plunged into a large, wooden cabinet, and you toe off your shoes to abandon them by the landing before you cross onto the soft carpet. You sit on the edge of the large bed awkwardly, but when you clear your throat, Ella spins around and tuts. “No, up, up!”

Like a soldier, you stand to attention, but Ella doesn’t seem as offended at you sitting on her bed as she does seem interested in poking at you. For a moment, she stands in front of you and surveys you, her green eyes sweeping across your face, your torso, down to your legs and back up again. She steps forward on nimble feet and reaches up to push your chin up and your shoulders back. Now you really do feel like a soldier.

She pulls both of your hands in front of you, and you think it best to just let her play around with you like a doll; right now she was Eleanora, not Ella. She turns your palms upwards, and then back down. Then she guides your arms out to the side, and nudges your leg apart with her own, all while staring with a calculating eye. Now, standing in the centre of her room like you're in the middle of a jumping jack, she circles around you. Your head involuntarily turns to follow her, but she tuts again, and you look forward. She shifts your hips to the centre and places the palm of her hand against your back, pushing to even your posture.

She does odd measurements with her hands. She closes one eye, holds a hand parallel to your throat and shifts it down, lining it up against your waist. She gauges the width of your shoulders and mirrors it against your hips. She tuts at your chest, and you look at her with worry. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. Your mother and God were just kinder to you than they were to me.” She continues her measurements and when she circles back around to face you, she nods with determination. “It should be perfect.”

—--------- The days pass by in a flurry of snowy weather and icy roads. The charity event is quickly approaching, and your stomach is curling at the thought of it. Cameron, Foreman, and yourself are bundled into a small cafe booth. It’s overpriced and has horrible sandwiches, but it’s inside the hospital and most importantly away from the mini blizzard outside.

You poke at your sandwich and sip from your hot chocolate. Cameron got a pastry, which while you would usually expect to be burnt on one side and undercooked on the other, looks like sweet goodness. Foreman wretches at his salad. “This has got to be a health violation. Who puts anchovies in caesar salad anymore?”

You laugh. “Who buys anchovies from the hospital anymore?”

Foreman shakes his head and pushes his plate away from him. You reach across and push your own towards him, and he looks towards you with wide eyes. “Really?”

You nod. “Yep. I asked for no mayo and got mayo, so they’ll go to waste if you don’t have them.”

Cameron laughs. “When Chase shows up, they won’t go to waste. He’s like a tall, skinny, bottomless pit.”

You all laugh, and Foreman humbly accepts. In a mouth full of sandwiches, he speaks. “Fu wot, aryu affergeec?”

Cameron scoffs beside you and shakes her head. “Finish chewing, Foreman. I don’t want your crumbs spat in my coffee.”

He swallows and turns back to you. “I was asking if you’re allergic. To mayo? Or would it be eggs, then?”

You shake your head, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. “I’m not allergic. It’s just gross and makes me gag. I used to be force-fed sandwiches which were basically drowned in mayo, and now I can’t eat it.”

Foreman nods. “I get it. My mum used to make us tuna pasta- she was a great cook, but something about that dish she could never get right. I think we were so broke at one point, even the tinned tuna was out of date. Just the smell of tuna makes me gag now.”

You sip your hot chocolate, trying to chase away the thought of fish and mayo. You stop when you spy Chase, weaving between tables, looking like Frosty the Snowman. When he slides in across from you, Foreman laughs. “What happened to you, man? Did House send you outside as a punishment?”

Chase scoffs, and whips his beanie and scarf off. It sends flecks of snow flying, which quickly melt against the table. “Nope. I went to five different stores, and the first three were closed.” He groans, rubbing at his side. “I think I busted a rib on the ice.” Cameron coos. “Did you slip over? Before we go back up, I’ll see if you’ve actually broken something, or if you’re just being a baby.” Chase locks eyes with you across the table,\ and rolls them. You stifle a snort.

Foreman speaks between mouthfuls this time. “What. Were. You. Shopping. For?”

Chase inhales and produces a white shopping bag. He places it on the table and slides it towards you. Now you’re the one locking eyes with him, and mouthing ‘What?’ He gestures towards the bag with a hand. Even Foreman’s put down his sandwiches to watch. “Open it.”

You’re sceptical, and gingerly reach a hand inside the bag, pulling out a box. You look back to Chase for confirmation, and he nods. “Go on.”

You open the box, and push past plain tissue paper. There’s a pair of glittery, black pumps. You look back to him, frantic. “Chase, I can’t, these are gorgeous and-”

He nods. “I barfed on your shoes. Literally barfed. And I was meaning to get you a new pair a few weeks back, but then I didn’t know what you liked.”

“No, really, I can’t take these, this is too much-”

“I tore up the receipt. Shredded it, actually.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Cameron nods along. “I saw him burn it too. And black’s not Chase’s colour, so I guess you’ll just have to take them.”

You shake your head, but Chase speaks first. “I’m serious. I’m not taking them back.”

You stare at him, willing him to break, but he pokes his tongue out at you. You furrow your brow. “Okay. You know these aren’t really practical for work, right?”

Foreman reaches over, plucking a heel and holding it up to examine it. “Look at it! You’ll finally be able to reach the top medicine shelves in the clinic.”

“Ha ha.” You laugh humorlessly, taking back the shoe, and returning it to its box.

Chase speaks. “Well, we’ve got that charity thing coming up this week…I was hoping it went with your dress, and that maybe, you’d like to-”

“Sit with us!” Cameron interjects. Chase shoots her a look and begins to open his mouth but she continues. “Cuddy’s asking us for table arrangements, so we thought we’d sit together as a diagnostic team. Right, Foreman?”

Foreman squints at her, but when there’s a resounding thump under the table and he winces, he nods. “Yep. Right.”

Chase chews his cheek, staring at Cameron. “You sure, Cameron? Maybe we should let her make her own decisions and not force her into something.”

Cameron shakes her head. “She’s not being forced into something. She’s being asked, and can say yes or no.”

You lean forward. “I’m lost. What am I saying yes or no to?”

Chase doesn’t look towards you anymore, staring down at the table. Cameron turns to face you. “Well, do you want to sit with us?”

You nod. “Of course; the only other people I know here is Cuddy and House.”

Cameron smiles, and if anything, Chase’s face turns even more sour. “Perfect. We’ll see you there.” —------ Chase avoids you for the rest of the week. You thought, maybe the shoes were a sign of something more. But he’s adamant in separating at every chance from you. Before, he used to seek you out at the coffee machine and talk to you about everything from you shouldn’t trust the creamer to how aliens must be real. It’s disappointing. Cameron shoots you sad smiles when no one else is around. “He’s just stressed. House has been riding his arse, but after this charity ball, it should be fine.”

Your logic wants to question her, and demand to know why she thinks that. But, you feel like you’ve lost a friend in less than four days, and nod, clinging to some semblance of hope. Yet, two days being the dinner-ball-charity-anxiety inducing-thing, it’s House that seeks you out.

‘I’ve been told to ‘talk’ with you.” He makes quotations with his fingers in the air.

You scoff, and spin back to the microscope, where about a minute ago, you were analysing liver cell enzymes in peace. “Oh, so no hitting this time? I’m glad, I thought your cane could use a break.”

House makes a weird noise in the back of his throat, and your eyes flick back to him. He coughs….almost awkwardly? “Mother superior says you’re skipping counselling.”

“Ohhh.” House had to talk about feelings. No wonder the narcissistic robot was feeling awkward. “Yep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Most people wouldn’t be so snippy with their boss.”

You nod along, staring back at the glass slide. “Yep. Then again, most bosses wouldn’t be the reason that most people need work counselling, but hey.” You don’t mention that you’re upset Chase is managing to ghost you at work.

He scoffs. “You don’t need it because of me. I’m sure there’s some weird, hormonal, womanly disaster you’re hiding.”

“So we agree. I don’t need it.”

“Don’t twist my words like that, newbie, I-”

You sit up, facing him fully. “The only reason Cuddy wants me in counselling is because she’s afraid you’re hurting my feelings. You’re not.” Lies. “It doesn’t keep me up at night when you act like a dickhead.” Lies. “Hence, I don’t need counselling.” Lies.

House runs his hand down his face, and you have to stop yourself from tracking the movement. Just stare at the pale wall to the left of his head. Just like that- no, no you’re staring at his face again.

He sighs. There’s a beat of silence, then two, and then three. You’re about to ask him why he’s still interrupting the task he ordered you to do when he speaks with a lively vigour. “So! If you’re not wanting to throw yourself down a set of stairs because of me,” Lies. “You could totally manage to go to the charity thingamajig with me. Something about dying babies or dying grandmas, I don’t know.”

You blink. “It’s for the hospital’s Domestic Violence foundation and Childhood Cancer.”

“Ah, so men acting like babies and children dying like grandmas. I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No!”, you blurt out.

He blinks, frazzled. “No? You don’t think abusive men act like immature babies?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. Why are you inviting me?”

His jaw flexes for a moment, and he stares at you. The silence is loud, but you see the chord of electricity connecting the two of you thrumming. Your thoughts are pulsing at the same beat. Say it. Chase didn’t say it. No one’s ever said it to me. Say that you’re inviting me because you want me with you. Not Cameron, not Cuddy, not some leggy blonde. Me.

Instead, he says “It’s the one apology you’ll ever get for me making you want to throw yourself down a set of stairs.”

Your thoughts zap and fizzle out with a pop. Even their absence is shameful, and you dumbly nod your head. It’s a work event. What were you expecting? Moreso, why were you expecting it from House? “Fine.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and you scoff. “Don’t make me take it back.”

“Hey!” He places a hand to his heart, faux wounded. “No refunds on sponsoring domestic abusers with me.”

“What? That’s not what the charity do-”

He’s already limping out of the lab and you’re left in silence. —------- There was no frumpled jacket, fraying sweater, and an untucked shirt. No coffee-stained jeans or pen-scratched slacks.

The black dress clung to your waist, cinching in, and widening out into a breathy, floor-length skirt fleckered with embroidered flowers and trailing leaves. God, you prayed no one thought this was too slutty; sure, there wasn’t a thigh-high slit or even any leg showing, but your full breasts were practically shoved up to your chin.

Ella’s dress. She was ecstatic when she handed it to you, and demanded that you try it on at their home and that Pop drive you to the ball. She helped you wriggle into it; almost a claustrophobic process, but Ella would laugh each time you hand stuck through the neckline or the skirt. “You’re like a silly monkey. When my daughter and my sons grew up, I thought there would be no silly monkeys left here.” She pinches your cheek tenderly while you're wrapped in odd angles of the dress. “But then you came. I’m so glad you did.”

Eventually, you stretch and jump and slide into the dress. Pop’s already waiting for you outside, by his old, clunky truck. He envelopes you quickly, squeezing you and resting his head on your own. “You look beautiful. Ella was right, the dress is perfect.”

You laugh. “She always is.”

You thank him again and again for driving you all the way, but his reply is a gruff laugh. You insist that you’ll be fine later tonight, and will get a lift home with someone or call a taxi. It’s two late for Pop to be driving out on icy roads. When he parks in the bay of the hospital, he turns to you. “You sure? I rather you get home with me then not at all.”

You nod. “I’m sure. Don’t worry, I’ll get home.”

He runs his hands across his moustache, and nods. The seriousness dissipates from his face, and he smiles tenderly at you. “Have a great time.”

The dress was beautiful, you think when you shuffle from the car and quickly into the warmth of the foyer. But Ella had been right in saying that your mother and god were kinder. Your boobs were nearly spilling out of the top, and as you step through the doorway, you cross your fingers that you wouldn’t give the whole hospital staff a nip slip.

The hospital’s foyer had been completely converted. There was no stuffy receptionist or odd potted plants. There was draped, flowing curtains along the wall, obscuring the view of the clinic and offices. There was a faux chandelier for god's sake, dangling down from the floor above. Even the floors seemed to gleam. The foyer seemed bigger somehow. There were large, circular tables, covered in white cloth, that bordered the edges, yet there was still room for (presumably) a dance floor in the centre. Furthest away, there was a large catering table, and you stomach was already growling.

The second you think of beelining to the food however House sidles into view. He whistles, staring at your chest. “Wow. I’d say you clean up nicely, but those sure do.”

You resist the urge to cover up, and a blush flames across your cheeks. “You don’t look absolutely repulsive yourself, House.”

That was far from the truth. House was wearing a form-fitting black suit. Had his hair been combed? Was his cane polished? Whatever it was, he looked…handsome. You would have to be wary.

He holds out his left hand. “I hope you don’t have rabies.”

You gingerly reach out, feeling his rough palm against your own. His fingers are against your pulse. “I do. Air-borne gonorrhoea, too.”

House smiles, and you find that you can’t look away from it. He realises you’re staring at him in awe however and a scowl quickly covers his face. He yanks you to his side and spins for the both of you to face the room.

You hiss, “You’re lucky I didn’t trip. I would have brought you down with me.”

“I have the cane as an advantage. Now,” you inch closer, til your shoulders are pressed together. Or rather, it’s your head by the tip of his shoulder. You tilt your ear, listening as he whispers conspiratorially. “The best thing I will ever teach you is how to get in, and out of a Cuddy-event.”

You snort. “I thought that you wanted to support domestic abusers?”

He peers down at you, scoffing. “You must have me confused for someone else.” He looks back out to the foyer, and gestures with his head, first to the catering table, “You get food. Not a lot, but enough to seem that you’re interested in staying for the evening. You dance, and make sure that someone remembers that you’ve danced.”

You nudge him in the ribs, and he looks back at you. “How do you dance? I’ve seen you avoid walking to an OR because of your leg.”

He grins and reaches into the pocket of his suit. He produces a pill bottle and rattles it. “I have enough of these bad boys to endure Cuddy’s torture tonight. I’m going to tear it up on the dance floor.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, dancing, eating, what other great tips do you have?”

“Well, I have a great tip in my pants but another one is also to do the worst thing on earth- small talk. Luckily for me, I have Wilson.”

You huff out a laugh torn between humour and disgust at his innuendo. At that, he loops your arms together, and he walks towards one of the outlying tables. Wilson sits there, and you spy the ducklings a few tables over. You wave at them, and while Foreman and Cameron both smile back, Chase blanches.

Wilson draws you back to where you are when he says your last name. “It’s good to see you here. And with House! I thought by now, he would have made you a bitter enemy.”

House scoffs, and you feel where your arms are linked burn when he speaks. “I have. This is all a ruse to get her guard down.”

You roll your eyes, but smile at Wilson. “He roped me in. Something about dying babies and dying grandmas.”

Wilson squints. “That sounds like House, especially because tonight is for Domestic Violence-”

“And childhood cancer!” House interjects. “I bet you’ll see a lot of your little friends running around tonight, Wilson. Or is it more like wheeling around?”

Now Wilson rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “If you ever need a break from him, I’ve got a free seat at my table.”

House’s elbow seems to pull you in tighter, but you smile. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll swing by later.”

House doesn’t say bye to his friend, already leading you away. It’s odd; Wilson and House bicker and fight, yet you get the sense they’re the closest friends in the hospital. You try to tug his elbow back towards the ducklings' table, but he tuts. “Small talkis donee. Food now.”

You shake your head. “That was hardly small talk. We were there for two minutes before you were an arse.”

You realise you’re saying we. What was the etiquette of bosses asking out employees on a not-date date? Or, moreso, dates in general? Were you supposed to leave him alone? Separate and enjoy the night before reconvening. Or, like you were doing now, be paraded around on his arm and cling to him like a hopeless bird clings to a dangling birdseed treat?

You’re brought out of your own head when House speaks. “It’s Wilson. He’s used to my arse if you know what I mean.”

You bark out a laugh. That would make sense on to why Wilson put up with House’s shit. Old flames always burn dully. House is weaving you in between tables, and directing you towards the catering table.

He swears and begins yanking you around like a getaway driver. “Shit. Left, left! No, now right. Oh, fuck-”

Cuddy marches up to you two and beams at you. She glares at House. “Were you trying to avoid me?”

House puffs out air from his cheeks. “No, why would you ever think that?”

“You’re behind a fake palm plant.”

He uses his cane to reach up and poke at the plastic shrubbery beside you. “Darn. I thought it was the real thing.”

Cuddy sighs, and turns to you. “You look beautiful. I’m glad you came.” She pins House with a stare. “Even gladder that you tried being kind for once.”

House gags. “Not altruistic though.”

Cuddy shakes her head slightly at him, and smiles at you. You scan her scarlet dress with an approving nod. “You look amazing. That dress is gorgeous”

A slight dusting colours Cuddy’s cheek, and she smiles again; smaller, but far more sincere. “Thank you, kid. Try to have a good night. You’ve worked hard, especially with a boss like that.” Her eyes slide to House, and he bares his teeth at her mockingly.

You nod, “Thanks, I’ll try.”

With that, House huffs and sidesteps Cuddy, practically dragging you with him. You shoot her an apologetic look, but for a man with a cane, House hobbles fast and you’re quickly crossing the room towards the catering table.

Finally, he untwines your arms, and you look down at his absence. You feel oddly bare. House is staring down at his own elbow, but then he shakes it out like it’s gone numb. He straightens his shoulders and nods towards the table. “Small talk is definitely done now. Food. The second best thing to drugs. Actually, third, to drugs and monster trucks.”

You pick up a plate from the end. “In that order?”

House scoffs, and mimics you, grabbing a plate. “God, no. Have you seen a monster truck? Those things are awesome.”

In silence, you both move along the table, scooping heaps of vegetables, roasted meats, and desserts. He’s the one to stand, and debate over the deserts; quite literally listing off the pros and cons of cream, fruits, chocolate, and pastries. He must sense you staring at him, and he straightens to his full height, looking down his nose at you. “What?”

You raise your spare hand in defence. “I just think that this is the longest you’ve talked to me. Definitely, the longest you’ve been nice to me.”

A strange mixture crosses his face. His mouth slightly opens and his eyes almost soften, but then it’s gone, and he’s clenching his jaw, and rolling his eyes so far back into his head you’re worried he’s having a seizure. “Don’t worry Newbie, I’ll make sure to ride your arse on Monday.”

You snort. Spoke too soon, huh? “I’m sure you’d like that, House.”

He stills and stares at you. “And if I would?”

You chew your lip, looking at him through your lashes. It’s all on the tip of your tongue, about to burst over the edge in a flood of words, but then, somewhere in the room, you hear Cameron’s laugh and remind yourself of her heartbreak. Was House worth that?

You shake your head. “I need to sit down while we eat, otherwise I’m gonna wear chocolate fondue down the front of my dress.”

House doesn’t follow you when you walk to the ducklings' table, and you force yourself to not turn and look for him. You plop into one of the chairs and smile at the three doctors sitting down. You sigh, “Hi. You all look fantastic. Odd, without the lab coats.”

Cameron laughs. She’s in a blue dress with a sweetheart neckline. It makes her eyes vivid, and you mean it when you say she looks fantastic. “Thanks. You look really nice too.”

You grin, abandoning your plate and whipping you leg upwards. You raise your skirt, feeling like a scandalous 1860’s woman, and point your toes at Chase. The ducklings all peer down, and Chase’s face becomes quickly flushed when you speak. “The heels are killer. They were a perfect find, Chase. Thank you.”

He nods, averting his eyes and staring at the table. “No problem.”

Okay. So still weird. It’s Foreman who clears his throat, dissipating the awkward air that had settled. He wriggles his brow. “So, House?”

You groan, and pick at some of the food in front of you. “Don’t get me started.”

Cameron peers at you. “Has he been…tolerable?”

“Um, yeah.” You nod. “At least to me.”

Her eyes dart across the table, but they’re quick to return to you. “I’m glad you’re having a good night then. Maybe it’ll show you that beneath it all, he has some humanity.”

You duck your head, bashfully. “Yeah. He was the one who asked to join me tonight; he said it was an apology for being a dick basically. I know it doesn’t mean he’ll never be a dick again, he’s House for gods sake, but… It’s a good reminder that he has a little bit of a soul.” You clear your throat, trying to blink away the tears springing up in your eyes. “I was thinking of transferring. Giving up. I never even started to make plans, and I’m not sure if I was actually going to.”

Cameron smiles. “I’m glad you didn’t. It’s been great working with you; House isn’t all thunderstorms and rain clouds.”

Foreman laughs sarcastically but Chase scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “Really?”

A beat passes, and he stares at Cameron, who shakes her head. “Don’t.”

Chase’s eyes dart back to the skirt of your dress, to where your heels are hidden again. “I think she should know.”

Foreman’s firm voice rings out across the table. “Don’t ruin it, Chase.”

Your eyes narrow. “Know what?”

Cameron begins to open her mouth, but Chase turns in his seat and faces you. “House didn’t ask you to tonight.”

You laugh softly, staring at him. “I was there Chase. He did.”

Chase shakes his head, his hands flying up. “No. Cuddy did. You were skipping counselling and getting withdrawn. You stopped coming out to drinks with us. She knew something was up. Maybe knew what you were planning.”

Cameron’s voice is stern. “Chase, stop it.”

Chase shakes his head, almost in a frenzy. “No!” He locks eyes with you, staring intently. “Cuddy asked him to invite you tonight, weeks ago. When he couldn’t even do that, she had to make a fucking trade with him. He is your date for one night, shows some sort of niceness,” He spits the word, “And gets a month and a half off of clinic duty. He’s not being kind or tender, or human, he’s being House.”

Your eyes flicker towards the rest of the table. Foreman is staring down at the table, shaking his head, and Cameron is practically murdering Chase with her eyes. Her eyes dart towards you, and the soft pity that you find there is enough confirmation. The mouthfuls of food in your stomach turn to lead, and you blanch, pushing up from the table.

Chase is still saying something, and it’s almost apologetic, but you can’t make out the words. There are definitely tears in your eyes now and they make your vision blur.

One of them calls out your name, but you’re already halfway across the room. Doctors at other tables stare at you, and you see Wilson's head perk up. He calls out your last name, but you storm past.

House is standing by the fake palm plant. His plate is jammed into the soil, and his fork stabbed through one of the plastic leaves. He smirks when you appear, and grabs your hand, spinning you. “Just in time Newbie.” He leans his cane against the pot plant. “One dance, and we get to go home.”

You don’t register that he’s leading you to the centre of the foyer. There are a few other dancers there, twirling gently and swaying to the music playing through the announcement system overhead. His hand burns against the curve of your waist and the other one guides your hand to the side of your body. You’re struggling to breathe, but huff out the words. “Are you high?”

He squints one eye and tilts his lips to the side. “A little bit. How else would I be dancing with no cripple stick?” He leads you around the floor, and your feet simply follow him. You clench your jaw. “Or are you just that desperate to get out of here?”

House nods and barks out a laugh. “I’ve already seen two people barf from the seafood. Of course I am.”

You shake your head. “Or is it just me that you want to get away from?”

House scrunches his face. “What? Do you actually have rabies?”

You try to escape his grip, but his hand is firm against your back, caging you in. You stop moving, stilling alongside the edge of the floor. In your peripheral, you think you see Wilson standing up. You drop House’s hand. “I know Cuddy asked you to take me tonight. Although it wasn’t really asking, was it? You had to be fucking paid for it.”

You shove against his chest, and his hand grips yours against his suit. “Did Cuddy say that?”

“What does it matter? Are you denying it?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, I wasn’t paid.”

You laugh humourlessly. “You got out of fucking clinic duty for this! Did you have to raise it? Did she offer one week and you demand fucking six of them?”

He scoffs, and drops your hand. “What did you think tonight was? A date?”

You clench your jaw, willing the tears to not fall. They wobble at the edge of your eyes. He blinks in realisation. “God, you wanted this to be a date, didn’t you?’

He soldiers on even when you shake your head. “Yes, you did. That’s why you were smiling and laughing and for once, not being a pain in my arse. You wanted to believe that I had asked you out.”

You have. “I didn’t think you found me so repulsive that you had to be begged to take me tonight.”

“What does it matter what I think? Did you want me to actually ask you out from the bottom of my heart? Pretend that I actually want to be here, and that out of everyone, I would want to be here with you? On a date?”

Wilson reaches you at the edge of the dancefloor, and you finally wrench yourself out of House’s grip. You spit venom at him. “Fuck you, House.”

House laughs your last name bitterly. “I’m sure you wanted to.”

Wilson calls out your last name. “It’s not what you think, he-”

You laugh, your shoulders hunching over. “No, I know exactly what it is. Forgive me for thinking that for once in your miserable life, House, you wanted to apologise to someone or do something kind for them. I’ll make sure to thank Cuddy for the great,” You hiss the word, “night.”

House just stares at you, his jaw flexing and Wilson’s the one rambling a long explanation that you couldn’t give less of a shit about. You turn on your heel and stride across the room, and out of the hospital doors.

#house md fanfiction #house md x reader #gregory house #house md #gregory house x reader #gregory house x f!reader #house md fic #gregory house fic #gregory house smut

[accio-victuuri]

This will be a short discussion of what I originally planned regarding yibo endorsing national / homegrown brands recently and what it all means when talking about the bigger picture. and by that I mean, the connection between celebrities in CHN & nationalism as well as the increasing tension between CHN and other countries. As much as we all wanna live in a bubble of fandom where it’s all pretty boys & happiness, real life isn’t going that way.

I think Yibo knows that too and it’s influencing his choices. He had a personal experience with this — the whole NIKE fiasco in 2020 definitely was a lesson to him and his team. The risk of endorsing big international brands as a Chinese celebrity is real. It happened before and it may ( or will ) happen again. You never know what issue is going to pop up and suddenly, it’s all gone. We have seen time and again how the CCP can quickly direct these celebrities to sing and dance in whatever tune they like.

Let’s start with the biggest one he signed on to right after the whole nike fiasco. ANTA. It’s on record that as soon as WYB dropped Nike, there was a bidding of sorts on who is the domestic brand that will get him. ANTA wasn’t the highest offer, but he chose them because they are a national brand.

Then the list just goes on. A couple of these are due for renewal this year but just to illustrate which brands he is working with since 2021:

(In no particular order)

Redmi, Lenovo, Youku, Pechoin, Chunzhen, Super X, Bananain, Master Kong Iced Tea, Kelly One, Linsy, Bottled Joy, IKIDE, Helen Keller Glasses, SKG, Stride, Tokit, Chando, Unicharm, Rotai

I could be missing 1 or 2 but it’s a lot. for someone who averages 25-30 brands in a year all holding his name as endorser, the number of domestic ones is a lot.

This trend became more evident when looking at his new endorsements this year (2023):

5 out of the 6 brands are domestic.

It’s the reason why I had the urge to make this post, especially with him being announced as YAYA’s chief spokesperson. Personally, the last domestic brand surge I remember was 2021 and there were a couple of articles written about that. This year, the domestic brands are at it again and tapping celebrities to get more attention. It says a lot that these brands picked Yibo to represent this growth. It’s easy to sign on to a well known brand with a string of high profile endorsers before you, so this is again, a testament to Yibo’s character. He is not afraid to lend his name and reputation to the Nameless/Unknown ( i had to reference it i’m sorry lol ). He takes into consideration not just his growth but also his people, these Chinese companies who are fighting with brand titans.

He is also the go-to choice because his good reputation and appeal to the younger generation.

I think Wang Yibo’s age is more in line with this social group. He is a very positive young man. Recently, Wang Yibo is in the process of transforming from an idol to a powerful actor. He is more in line with the youthfulness of our future brand. (quote from tailing’s president )

I have taken this screenshot from an article by jingdaily that is worth a read. another factor is the general population’s preference as well. whether this is something that yibo & his team is taking into consideration, we don’t know but with the choices they are making i guess the answer is obvious.

This year too, I have noticed a shift in c-ent with celebrities being courted by international brands who thinks it’s safe (for) now to be visible in the CHN market again. I have no beef with these celebrities, you gotta do what you gotta do. International brand deals are hella lucrative and some luxury ones are considered an honor to be a part of. I mean even Yibo is very visible in promoting Chanel.

I get the lure of big brand endorsements but that doesn’t take away the reality of what could happen and that planning ahead is important. Yibo is more capable than people give him credit for. I think a lot of people underestimate his ability to look at a situation and make decisions that will benefit his career in the long run. To put it simply, if and when things go south in the political side of things he is prepared and there won’t be much of a loss in the endorsement side of things. It’s a very smart business move and you can add patriotic points too so that makes it perfect.

Yibo is really the one who walks the talk. This saying really applies to him more than anyone cause that is his essence as a person — you will see the truth in him with what he does. His actions speaks volumes. He will take a stand on what he believes in even if everyone else is going the opposite direction. 🤍

DISCLAIMER: This post is very much about Yibo if you couldn’t already tell, and my observation as a fan. It’s not meant to compare him to other CHN celebrities cause I don’t have the time and interest in making a comparison study of who has the most domestic brand endorsements. If another stan finds this and is somehow offended in behalf of their fave, it’s not my fault. Feel free to make your own post talking about how great your fave is. Thank you!

#wang yibo #i just need to get it out of my brain so here it is #this is not as political as it may seem #it’s more of me gushing about yibo as usual

[shunderdome]

The House of Usher: Children's Timeline

I've attempted to put together a timeline of the Usher children's birthdays, ages, arrivals in the family, and one big missing question.

1975/1976?: Frederick (no specific indication, but apparently two to three years older than Tamerlane) d. age 47/48?

1978: Tamerlane (per gravestone, ep. 8) d. 45

Her age is listed as 40 in her newspaper clipping (ep. 1), but this seems both impossible given she was born before New Years 1980 and also a potentially in-character lie if she was trimming her own age for commercial success in the wellness industry.

1984: Victorine (per gravestone, ep. 8) d. 39

1986: Napoleon (year per grave, ep. 8, and age per newspaper, ep. 1, must be a late November/December birthday) d. 36

1988?: Camille (per posthumous press release, ep. 4) d. 35

The press release after her death lists her age as 35, which Tamerlane insinuates is a lie.  However, Camille is younger than Napoleon (36/37), and Tamerlane herself seems to be lying about her own age.  This may also be a touch of the two “legitimate” children not getting the ages of their half-siblings correct, either consciously or subconsciously (see Prospero).

1996: Perry (per sales pitch to Roderick and Madeline, ep. 1) d. 27

Frederick references his conception as 25 years ago (ep. 2), but this may either be general rounding or refusing to remember his half-siblings ages accurately.

2004/2005: Leo joins the Ushers (age 18, ep. 3)

2007?: Lenore (per gravestone, hard to read) d. 16?

2008/2009: Camille joins the Ushers (age 20, ep. 3)

2012/2013: Perry joins the Ushers (age 16, ep. 3)

The major missing piece for me is when Victorine joins the family.  As the first half-sibling to emerge, her existence would be a major turning point for the family and the full siblings in particular.  My impression is that she may have joined the family at a younger age, especially given her reference to the three youngest as “The Littles," asking Frederick and Tamerlane if they remember when The Littles showed up and how annoying they were (ep. 5). She is only two years older than Leo, but her longer time in the family may lead her to seeing them as younger/newer additions. In the same conversation, Tamerlane also references remembering when Victorine herself showed up, so there was some time in their youth before Vic's parentage was revealed.  Victorine also calls Roderick “daddy” and speaks to him as a younger child in her death scene (ep. 5), which may be their dynamic from her adulthood only but suggests they may have known each other in her youth.

She mentions being raised by a single mother who was a nurse, uses her maternal surname, and still retains her British accent – so my guess would be that she joined the family after age ten but younger than the ages of 18/20. I can think of a few options:

She could have known Roderick for some time in her youth but been raised by her mother/in England with that knowledge

Her mother is not present at her funeral – her mother could have died, speeding up the process of her joining the family as a child or preteen

Roderick simply could have brought his first “illegitimate” child into the fold much more quickly because it was his first rodeo

Whatever happened, my suspicion is that she joined the family in some capacity around age 12/13 (1996-ish) and was the only outsider child for a good eight or so years before Leo arrived.

#fall of the house of usher #roderick usher #frederick usher #tamerlane usher #victorine lafourcade #napoleon usher #camille l'espanaye #prospero usher #mike flanagan #house of usher

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. Five

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Part 4

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, drug references, angst, arguing, mentions of domestic violence, crying, smut, fingering, degradation/praise, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, crying, anxiety, smoking

Word Count: 12.4k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 5.1: Y/N Henderson's Day Off

Tuesday, March 14th, 1989

"Oh, fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie hears you shouting frantically as he wakes up this morning. His eyes pry themselves open, squinting to see what you're up to. You're putting your clothes on in a panic, clumsily rubbing deodorant under your arms and brushing your hair in a rushed manner. 

He glances at the clock, which reads 10:08am. Shit. "Oh, no. I forgot to set the alarm. I'm so sorry, baby." Eddie says sleepily, sitting up in bed to look at you.

"It’s not your fault. I should've made sure you did.” You shake your head at him, refusing to let him take the blame. “Fuck! I'm so fucking late! Mom's gonna have a cow!" You groan as you shove your extra belongings into your bag, running to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Eddie slips on some jeans, following behind you. He finds you gripping the sink nervously as you brush your teeth, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "Would you mind getting dressed, please? We have to go, like, right now." You practically bark at him with the toothbrush in your mouth.

He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them with care. He peers at you in the reflection, smiling warmly. "Y/N, you need to relax. It's one day. You're already late, there's no changing that. So, just take your time, 'kay? Or...if you want, we can call you in sick and you can spend the day with me." Eddie smirks, tempting you to play hooky.

"I really shouldn't, Eds. Don't you have things to do today?" You question, spitting toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your brush.

"Well, yeah. Just a couple deals, and picking up your bike. No work, though.  We could watch the other videos I rented, too." He pulls your hair to the side, gingerly kissing your neck.

"Eddie, you know I love spending time with you. I'm just worried that if I skip once for you, it might become a bad habit." You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's hard enough to say no to you as it is. If you offer things like that all the time, it'll become impossible." You can't help being a bit scared of Eddie's idea. You've always been told that skipping school is one of the worst things you could do. He's already got such a hold on you, it oddly feels like you're disobeying him.

"Sweetheart, I'm not gonna derail your future with one fake sick day. I promise you, I'm not making this a habit. I wouldn't do that, because I know school is important to you. Ya know, I may be the town degenerate, but do you really think I wanna drag you down with me?" Eddie looks into your eyes meaningfully, driving home the fact that he cares about you. That he wouldn't jeopardize your grades just so he can spend time with you.

"I guess that's not a very kind thing for me to think, is it?" Your eyes fall to your feet, feeling silly about the whole thing. What's one day, really? Sure, you'll have make-up work to do, but that's easy. "Alright, I'll call in. But only this one time, I mean it!" You point a stern finger in his face. He playfully tries to bite it, but you snatch it away. You go to the phone and quickly dial the college front desk, trying your best to sound sick as you tell them you won't be in today. You're struck by a pang of guilt after the call. Mom would hate that you're doing this. You don't like being dishonest, but Eddie insists it won't kill you. You can always trust him, right?

"All set?" Eddie asks as you put the phone back on the hook. You just nod, conflicted about your feelings. He sighs. "It'll be fine, darling. I promise. Now, how about I cook you some breakfast? I make some killer French toast." He offers, gesturing toward the kitchen.

You silently walk to the small dining table, and Eddie follows behind you. He opens the fridge to retrieve some eggs, setting to work at making you both some food. There's a radio sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and he clicks it on to a rock station. His back is to you, and he’s intently waiting for you to speak. "Do you cook a lot, Eds? I never took you for a chef." You ask as he cracks some eggs open into a bowl.

"Nah, not really. I only know how to make this, and spaghetti. But I doubt you want pasta for breakfast." He replies jokingly, making you giggle.

"Definitely not. But, you also know how to make a great PB&J. Don't forget that one." You politely point out. He nods in agreement, beating the eggs with a fork.

"How many pieces of toast do you want?" He asks over his shoulder.

"Um, three should be enough." You don't exactly have much of an appetite, you're still mentally kicking yourself for taking the day off.

"Comin' right up, baby." He heats up a pan on the stove, dropping some butter into it. It sizzles and melts, and he dips the first piece of bread into the egg mix. You watch him cook, admiring how he looks from behind. He's still topless, so you stare at the muscles in his back as they move. His jeans hug his ass perfectly, the waistband of his boxers sticking out slightly. You're tempted to get up and wrap your arms around his waist, but it’s probably best to stay out of his way. You figure you can keep your hands to yourself for a few minutes, and you don't want Eddie to burn himself if you catch him by surprise.

No words come to mind for you to keep up a conversation, leaving to enjoy one another’s company in silence. You listen to the radio, letting your mind drift into daydreams about what you and Eddie might do together in the future. Long drives, going to the movies, him helping you make a character for D&D, the list goes on. You could easily spend every waking moment with him, maybe even the rest of your life. However, that's a conversation for another day. It's way too soon to discuss a long-term relationship, but you've never felt like this about anyone before.

"Drifting off again, I see. Shit, I oughta call you 'Sputnik' with how often you space out." Eddie says in your ear as he lowers your plate onto the table. You jump in your seat, your knee hitting the underside of the table. He chuckles, taking the seat across from you. "Sorry, princess. Just don't want your food to get cold. You're very cute when you're daydreaming, though."

"Thanks, Eds. And thank you for the food, it's really sweet of you." You gaze at him from the other end of the table, reaching your foot underneath it to rub against his. He smirks at you, letting your feet play below the two of you while you eat. You pick up your fork and cut into the French toast, gathering a large bite before bringing it to your lips. It's dripping in syrup, almost getting onto your shirt as you take it in your mouth. When it hits your taste buds, you can't help the slight moan you let out. The toast is perfectly buttery, and you taste cinnamon as well. Mixed with the sweet syrup, it's possibly the best breakfast you've ever had.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks, winking at you as his foot continues to battle lazily with yours.

You can't help blurting out immense praise for his cooking. "It's so fucking good, Eds! Probably the best I've ever had." You dive back in for another bite, and another, ravenously devouring your entire plate. You hope you don't look too disgusting, eating like this. But Eddie seems to take it as a compliment.

"That good, huh? I can make more if you want." He offers as you bring the final bite into your mouth.

You chew rapidly, swallowing hard. "No, this was plenty. Really good, though." You smile at him, a drip of syrup rolling down your chin.

"God, you're such a mess. C'mere." Eddie chuckles as he beckons you to him. You get out of your chair, standing beside him. He grabs your hips, bringing you down onto his lap. You instinctively put your arms around him, sitting down sideways. His face is so close to yours, you can't help the hoard of butterflies rumbling around inside you as his breath fans over you. His eyes flick to yours, then to your chin. He leans in, licking the syrup away. His tongue travels upwards to your lips, and he kisses you passionately. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel him growing hard beneath you.

Your mouths move together roughly, tongues and teeth gnashing in a battle for dominance. Eddie's just about to win the fight, when his uncle walks through the front door of the trailer. "Mornin', kiddos." Wayne calls, not noticing the position you're in. You quickly break away, trying to conceal your heavy breathing. You stay on Eddie's lap, however, the position alone isn't vulgar in itself. Although, Eddie's erection suggests otherwise. "Did ya sleep alright?" Wayne asks you. He looks tired, his shift at the plant hasn't been kind to him.

"Yes, sir! Like a log!" You say, blushing at how cheesy that sounds.

"Glad to hear it, Y/N. And please, call me Wayne. I ain't nobody special enough to be called 'sir'." Wayne chuckles, pleased to see you and Eddie cuddled up together in his kitchen. Young love is a good look on his nephew.

"Oh, okay. Wayne." You correct yourself, laying your head on Eddie's shoulder.

"How'd work go, Wayne?" Eddie asks, watching his uncle sit in his recliner to unlace his work boots.

"Ah, ya know, usual bullshit. They laid off ‘bout twenty fellas last night, claimin' a recession or some shit. They also say there'll be more by the end of the season." Wayne says sullenly, sighing. You can't help being worried about him, and you look at Eddie to see his reaction. He appears about the same, his eyes pointing down at the floor. You figure he's pondering what might happen if Wayne is let go, too.

“I can help out with money if you need it. It's the least I can do, since you took me in and all." Eddie suggests, eager to help. But Wayne's expression quickly changes from melancholy to frustration.

"Now, you listen here, boy. I've told ya once, and I'll keep tellin' ya. You don't need to do that. You got your own life to worry about, and I ain't gonna take any fuckin' charity either. I'm not on that 'ol choppin' block just yet. And even if I do end up there, I'll find another shit job just fine. I don't wanna hear another word of this, ya hear me?" He scolds his nephew good and proper, unwilling to take a single cent from him. It wouldn’t be right.

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his sudden aggravation. You can understand though, Wayne seems like a man who prides himself on being independent. He reminds you of yourself, unwilling to let others help you, even if you might need it.

Eddie nods his head, feeling guilty for even suggesting that his uncle can't do just fine on his own. It's not what he meant to do, but a man of Wayne's disposition doesn't take kindly to being treated like a charity case. "Alright, I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again." He says quietly, and you notice his eyes pricking with tears.

"You're damn right. Now, I'm goin' to bed. Try to keep the noise down, alright?" He pulls out the roll-up mattress from the corner of the room, undoing the clasps to lay it out on the floor. He snatches a blanket from the couch, laying down aggressively. He huffs, trying to get comfortable.

You glance at Eddie again, you notice he’d tensed up as Wayne spoke a moment ago. You kiss his cheek, leaving his lap. You grab the empty plates, quietly rinsing them off in the sink to be washed later. You click the radio off, letting his uncle have some quiet while he rests. You return to Eddie’s side, rubbing his shoulder. "Baby, let's go to your room, hm? You gotta get dressed." You suggest in a whisper. He stands wordlessly, the chair scraping on the floor. He begrudgingly follows you down the hall, slouching onto the bed once you're in his room again. You close the door silently, leaning against it. “Baby, what's wrong?" You ask cautiously, not wanting to upset him further.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Eddie sniffles, sadness lacing his voice. You take a seat beside him, holding his hand in yours. He glances at your joined hands, but he won't look directly at you.

"Baby, please. I can tell what Wayne said upset you, and I understand why. Talk to me. I'm here for you." You squeeze his hand to reassure him. He clears his throat, preparing to speak.

"I just一" His voice shudders a moment, and he struggles to keep his composure. "I'm just worried about him, ya know? I know he can take care of himself, but what if he does get laid off? And what if he can't find work? We could get the electric and water shut off, or worse. We could lose our home." Frustrated tears fall from his eyes, but he continues. "But no matter how much I offer to help, he just won't take it. He's the only one in my family that wanted to take me in after Mom died and Dad ended up in prison. Nobody wanted 'Eddie, the problem child'. Wayne didn't give it a second thought. He’s taken care of me the best he can, and I just want to repay him for that. But the stubborn fucker won't let me." He finally meets your gaze, his large brown eyes glistening and red. Your chest tightens with sympathy, heartbroken to see Eddie so upset. You didn't previously know the exact circumstances of Eddie's living arrangements with his uncle, it’s apparently something Eddie kept close to the chest. You, of all people, can understand why.

"Oh, Eddie. Come here, baby." You pull him to you, hugging him tightly. He clings onto you, letting the sobs leave him once he can hide his face against your shoulder. "Darling, I promise everything will be okay. It's good that you care so much." You stroke his hair as you speak, trying to calm him down. "You don't have to worry. Like he said, he still has a job. Yes, that could change, but it's unlikely you'll end up on the street, okay? Honestly, if it came down to it, you could both come live at my house. I'm sure I'm not the only one who would welcome you into their home, either. But I'm also sure it won't be necessary." You continue to caress Eddie's hair, rocking him side to side in your arms. His sobs dissipate, his breathing steadying gradually. You feel a damp spot on your shirt from his tears, but you don't mind. All that matters is making him feel better about his worries. He’s handled yours so well, you'd made the assumption that he didn't have any of his own. You feel selfish for thinking so, but how could you know when he hadn't told you? 

He sits up, wiping his eyes with his palms. He smiles weakly at you. "Guess it was my turn to bring on the waterworks." He scoffs, sniffling again.

"It's alright, Eds. I'm glad you told me. I know that wasn't easy for you, but it brings us closer together. I want to be there for you, the way you are for me." You grab his hand again, bringing it to your lips to place a soft kiss to it. He exhales heavily, watching as you lead a trail up his arm with your mouth. You kiss his wrist, up to his forearm, stopping at his elbow. "Should I keep going?" You ask, not wanting to push him if he's not up for being touched.

"Please." He replies, barely above a whisper.

"Lay down, baby." You scoot over, allowing Eddie to rest his head on the pillow. You straddle him, lowering your head to kiss his lips. Your mouths meet with gentle tenderness, and you want to keep things light. You don't think either of you are in a particular mood for sex right now. But you're determined to comfort him with affection and intimacy. You pull away, gazing down at him. His hand cups your cheek, warming your skin. "Hey, there. You feelin’ better yet?"

"Getting there. Think I could use a few more kisses, though." He smiles, sliding his hand behind your neck to bring you back to him. The two of you keep kissing, not caring about going any further. All that matters right now is being close to one another. You slide off his lap, laying beside him as your lips continue to touch. You put your leg over his, trying to get as close to him as you can. Eddie's gone hard again, straining his jeans. You glance down at it, before looking in his eyes.

"Do you want me to..." You gesture at his crotch, but he shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm alright. You just have a strong effect on me. Maybe later?" He kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head in his chest, your breathing falling in sync with his. The two of you lay like this for a while, occasionally exchanging another kiss on the lips or neck. "What time is it, sweetheart?" Eddie eventually asks, brushing some loose hair behind your ear.

You lean over to look at the clock, surprised at how much time has passed. "11:30."

"Shit, really? I better get dressed then." Eddie pushes you gently off of him, digging through the clothes piles to find a clean shirt. He picks up a Judas Priest tee, slipping it over his head after it passes the sniff test. He pulls his hair and necklace out from under it, going to the mirror to fix his wild mane. "You wanna come along with me? You can stay here if you want, but it's kinda boring." He says as he struggles to work a brush through his tangled locks.

"Of course I'm going with you! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't? Here, let me help." You hop off the bed to assist Eddie with his hair. He hands the brush over to you, and you begin running the bristles through his thick curls as gently as you can. He watches you moving behind him as you help, moaning involuntarily when the brush rubs against his scalp. You smirk at his reaction in the reflection. His cheeks go pink, and he clears his throat sheepishly as he avoids your eyes. "I like it when you blush, it's really cute." You giggle, continuing your task.

"Ow!" He grunts with gritted teeth when you hit a snag, his features scrunching in pain. Your hand rests on his shoulder to calm him.

"Sorry, baby. I'm almost done." You get through the knot, making final strokes through all of his locks to check your work. The brush swipes along easily, and you set it down on the dresser. Eddie grabs the SpeedStick from his small collection of grooming products, haphazardly rubbing it into his armpits under his shirt. He turns to you once he's ready, grabbing your waist.

"Thanks for the help, princess. I appreciate it." He gives you a quick kiss. "You ready to go?" He asks, reaching for his shoes. He slips them on, and grabs his lunchbox where he keeps his drugs.

"Yeah, in a sec." You sit down to pull your Converse onto your feet. You take a moment to tie the laces tightly, standing up again. "All set." You hold Eddie's hand in yours, eagerly heading out of his room for the front door. He grabs his layered jacket and vest, folding them over his elbow. You pull the door open, tugging Eddie along with you.

"What are you so eager for, angel? Dealing drugs isn't as flashy as it looks on TV." He smirks, curious about your motivation to head out into the cool spring air.

"I'm excited to spend the day with you, and to see what you get up to when I'm not around. It interests me." You smile gleefully, giggling again.

"You sure it has nothing to do with you being nervous about skipping classes? Your enthusiasm is a bit unnerving." He smiles awkwardly, concerned about your sudden cheerful mood.

"Maybe a little. Can you blame me? I've never done this before, and it’s kinda scary. But also thrilling." You blush, realizing how childish you sound. "Jesus, I sound like a damn teenager." You turn away from him, walking over to the van. He follows your lead, fiddling in his pockets for his cigarettes. You climb into the passenger side, sulking into the worn leather seat. Eddie slides in opposite you, pulling the creaky door shut. He's got two cigarettes in his mouth, lighting them as he puts his seat belt on. He hands one to you, and you take it out of habit.

"Hey, look at me." He says. You flick your eyes in his direction, sighing out a cloud of smoke. "I admit, it is a bit ridiculous that you've never stepped a toe out of line before. But you're not stupid, or embarrassing, or whatever you think you are right now. 'Kay?"

"Alright." You reply simply, inhaling more nicotine. You can't help enjoying the lightness that fills your head as you smoke. "You're a bad influence, you know that?" You say dumbly, smiling wide at him again.

“I would damn well hope so, sweetheart. Fuck knows you could benefit from it." He laughs, pulling away from the trailer.

"So, where to first?" You ask, hoping you don’t sound nosey about his customers.

He takes a moment to think, unsure if you'd truly want to know who he sells to in this town. "Um, well my first sale of the day is someone you know, actually. Chrissy Cunningham, well, Carver now."

You snort in disbelief. "No fuckin' way, the cheerleader?! Jeez, I never saw that one coming. I haven't really seen her around much once Jason knocked her up just before graduation. I wonder how that marriage is panning out."

"She's, um, alright. Jason works a lot at his father's company. So, she's stuck at home dealing with their rugrat all by herself." His tone is sad, and you immediately feel bad for ragging on Chrissy like that.

"I’m sorry. I didn't realize you were close with her." You finish your smoke, squashing the butt into the ashtray.

"Nah, it's fine. You couldn't have known." He shakes his head, reassuring you by placing a hand on your knee. "And I get it, they weren't exactly great people in high school. But Chrissy seems to have changed, I'm guessing having a child will do that. Though, by the sounds of it, Jason is the same fuckin' asshole today that he was back then. He doesn't even know I sell to her, I don't imagine he would take it well." His eyes are focused on the road, but there's an odd expression on his face.

"Well, I wouldn't mind saying 'hi', if that's alright. I don't wanna interfere." You offer, trying to be considerate.

"Yeah, I think she'd enjoy that, actually. Like you said, she doesn't get out much." He glances at you, a kind grin washing over his face. He appreciates you genuinely caring about what he gets up to, it makes his heart swell with admiration for you.

"Is their kid cute? Do you know its name?" You don't mean to interrogate him, but you're curious about the situation.

"I've only seen him once, but yeah, he's pretty cute. Chubby cheeks and all that. His name is JJ, which stands for Jason Jr." Eddie chuckles at that last bit, and you laugh too. "Yeah, I wish I was kidding. It's not the name she picked, but you know Jason. It's his way, or the highway." He rolls his eyes, sighing at the thought.

"What name did Chrissy want?" The more you hear about her life, the sadder you feel on her behalf.

"Thomas. After her grandfather, I think." Eddie answers.

"Oh, that's definitely a better choice. How do you know so much about her anyways?" A tone of jealousy taints your words, though you don't mean to. The air between you goes tense, both of you proceeding with caution.

"She invites me in, gives me coffee before we make the transaction. I feel bad for her, so I let her talk for a while. I don't think she has anyone else to do that with. It's nothing to worry about. She's a very dutiful wife. And I am only concerned with pursuing you." He explains, catching on to your suspicion. 

Guilt washes over you again, worried that he thinks you don't trust him. "I know, I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I'm not threatened by her, I promise."

"Good, I would hate for you to worry about me when there's no need. You already worry too much about everything else." He teases, poking your ribs. You giggle at his touch, it tickles. The atmosphere clears again, no longer tinged with the potential for a fight. A few minutes later, Eddie pulls into the driveway of the Carver household. Eddie puts the van in park, grabbing his lunchbox. "Wait here for a minute, I wanna make sure she's alright with you coming in."

"For sure. I'll be here." You lean forward to kiss him, and he happily meets you halfway. It doesn't last long, you imagine he's got a schedule to follow. He hops out, jogging to Chrissy's door. You watch his ass, admiring how perfect it is. Not just any guy has an ass like that, but Eddie isn't like any guy. You lick your lips, observing the scene of him knocking on the door, and Chrissy opening it. He gestures towards you as he speaks, and she nods to give you permission to come inside. He turns to you, waving you over.

You get out of the van, walking up to them nervously. It's been so long since you’ve interacted with her. She’s like a completely different person. Her hair is very long, falling halfway down her back. She's wearing minimal makeup, and a simple pink dress with an apron around her waist. She's so pretty, but more mature looking. You notice bags under her eyes, and bruises on her arms. She seems so tired, and you can't imagine those purple marks came from the baby.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you! How have you been?" Chrissy asks you, smiling wide despite her clear exhaustion.

"Oh, I'm doing alright. Been busy with school, and Eddie." You say meekly, her willingness to ignore the clear problems in her life sets you on edge.

"Yeah, Eddie was briefly telling me about you. I always knew you'd end up together, the way you looked at him in school was so heartbreakingly adorable!" She gushes, but you can't tell if it's genuine or not. You doubt she remembers you all that well. "Come inside, I just made a pot of coffee, and there's brownies fresh from the oven!" She makes room for you both to step inside, closing the door behind you after checking to see that nobody else is around. "Have a seat." She says, and you happily oblige.

The three of you sit at the kitchen table after Chrissy dishes out the coffee and brownies. You take a bite, moaning at how perfectly moist it is. "These are so good, Chrissy! You're a really good baker." You compliment, making her blush.

"Oh, stop! They're just Betty Crocker from the box. I'm glad you like them, though." She smiles wide again, looking like a porcelain doll. "So, Eddie, what have you got for me?" She turns to him, her expression changing. Her pupils dilate, and she fidgets with her fingers. Eddie shares a look with you, mentally telling you to keep it cool. You nod discreetly, understanding the situation.

"Do you want the usual, Chris?" He asks, and she quickly nods.

"Yes, please." She reaches in her apron pocket, pulling out some cash. Eddie digs around in his box, taking out a bag of weed, some cocaine, and some pills you don’t recognize.

"Here you go, ma'am." He says with faux professionalism, and she laughs. The money and drugs change hands, and Eddie closes the box tightly. You sit in awkward silence for a moment, unsure of what to do or say.

"So, how's Jason?" You ask, breaking the silence. Eddie throws a strange look in your direction, warning with his eyes to tread lightly. Chrissy's smile falls away for a moment, before being plastered back on a second later.

"He's great, but he’s pretty busy with work. He was lucky enough to get a job at his father's car dealership. He makes very good money. We're getting a swimming pool put in soon!" She sounds rehearsed, like Jason trained her on what to say when people ask about their life.

"That's great! I'm really happy for you." You reach a hand over to rest over hers, trying to let her know she doesn't have to pretend around you. She just glances down at it, carrying on like nothing is happening. "You guys have a kid, right?" You decide to push her, gently, in an effort to get the truth from her.

"Yes! A son, named JJ! He's sleeping now, actually. We named him after Jason." Her eyes change, but that damn creepy smile stays glued to her face.

"How sweet! I bet he's got the best features from both of you. And I'm sure you guys are the best parents." You reply, contemplating where to go from here. "Would you wanna hang out sometime? Maybe come over to my place for a girls night to catch up? I can't imagine it's too fun to be cooped up in the house all the time." You suggest in a friendly tone. Her face stiffens, the smile fading away. Eddie stares at you, slowly shaking his head in your direction.

"I appreciate the offer, Y/N. But it's impossible to find a sitter these days, and it's not so bad. I like taking care of my son, and my husband. I think you both should leave now, I'd hate to delay your sales, Eddie." She stares into your eyes, her face going red. She's gone defensive, meanwhile a single tear rolls down her cheek. You're frightened. Of her, and for her. You wish you could get her out of here, help her break away from Jason. But you can't force someone to get help when they don't want it.

You clumsily leave the table. "Alright, well, thanks for the coffee, and the brownies. See you around, Chrissy." You fumble over your words, and Eddie grabs your arm roughly.

"I'll see you next time, Chris. Take care of yourself." He says, trying to hold back his rage until you get back to the van. You walk out of the house, with Eddie pulling you down the driveway.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." You try to stop his pulling, to calm him down. But he keeps dragging you along.

"Get in the fucking van, Y/N. I'm not yelling in the goddamn driveway outside her house." His eyes burn intensely at you, and your stomach flips. You've really done it now. You do as he says, scrambling into your seat. He gets in as well, slamming the door shut. He turns to you, looking absolutely pissed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He shouts, making you flinch.

"I just felt bad for her, Eddie. She's clearly being abused by Jason. Did you know about this? Why didn't you call the police or something?" You yell back, angry that he would let something like this go unchecked.

"Oh, right! Like me, a fucking drug dealer, is gonna to call the cops. Then what happens? I get busted. Chrissy gets busted. Jason beats her even harder, and their son gets taken away. How does that shit help anybody? Hm? It's not my fucking job to save people, Y/N. I sell drugs, I'm not Superman." He fires back, but you don't want to back down.

"I'm not saying to call while you're in the middle of a fucking deal, Eddie! You could just tell them you saw her at the store with bruises or something, or told someone about it and they could've reported it. Does Wayne know? Probably not, right? Wouldn't want doing the right thing to get in the way of a fucking sale!" You snap, gasping at your own words once they’ve already left your mouth. You really shouldn’t have gone there.

His jaw falls open, his face turning beet red at your accusation. "Oh, that's real fuckin' nice, princess! Do you think I don't want to help her? Of course I do! I've thought about every possible way to do that, and how it ends. You've seen the cops in this town, they can't do shit! You think they care about domestic violence? No, they're too busy busting people like me for selling pot, and stupid kids making out at Lover's Lake. All it would do is put Chrissy in more danger, and then the whole town pities and judges her. Would you want that if you were in her shoes, Y/N? Tell me, honestly!" 

You're shocked at his rebuttal, and you regret everything you’ve said. You should know better than to cast such a low blow. You feel sick to your stomach. "No, I wouldnt." You murmur, looking down at your feet in shame.

"You're damn right! Now, can I level with you, Y/N?" He asks, trying to calm himself down. You nod apprehensively, dreading what might come next. "Okay, I'd like you to look at me, please." You slowly meet his gaze again, trying not to cry, or vomit. "Good. Now, I think it's really fucking shitty to imply that I care so little for other's well-being, that I'd let something like this keep going for the sake of making a quick buck. That's really awful of you to say, you should know me better than that." His calm tone is odd, you're worried where he's going with this. "Second, I don't think you have any business prying into other people's bullshit. Chrissy clearly doesn't want help, and nothing good can come of forcing her into telling on Jason. I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone about this, got it?" You nod again, unable to speak. "I want to hear you say it, Y/N. I mean it, I'm not fuckin' around."

"I promise. I'm sorry, Eddie, really I一" You try to explain it away, but he cuts you off.

"I know. You said that already. Look, I get it, things got heated. But I'm having a hard time getting over what you implied about me. I don't like being described as someone who takes advantage of other people."

"I didn't mean it, I just一" You attempt to speak, but he interrupts you again.

"If you didn't mean it, then why did you say it?" He asks seriously, and it’s a fair question.

"I was just shocked by the whole thing, Eddie. You didn't make it sound as bad as it is for her. And seeing her with the bruises, and that awful fake smile..." You wince, remembering how robotic Chrissy's face was. "I freaked out. I couldn't believe that she was going through something so terrible. I jumped to conclusions. I didn't consider the idea of you wanting to help, but being unable to. That was so fucking wrong of me. I honestly feel sick about it. And now I've hurt you. And I can say all the 'sorry's in the world, but that doesn't make it unsaid. I get it if I've fucked up everything, and if you don't want to keep seeing me. I earned that." You don't break down in tears like you thought you would, but a single salty drop runs down your face.

"I can't deny that I'm pretty fuckin' angry with you right now. But I have no intention of not seeing you anymore. People fight, Y/N. It's not the end of the world, or anything else. Look, let's try to move past this, alright? We have a few more stops to make. Are you alright staying with me?" He asks, holding your hands in his.

"Yeah. And again, I'm so sorry, really. You'll probably hear that fifty times today at least." You're only half-joking, but he seems to lighten up a bit at your words.

"Better make it a hundred." He quips, smiling weakly. He won't hide his mood from you, and you won't hide either. The rest of today probably won't be as lovey-dovey as you were hoping. But you'll work through it, eventually engaging in rough make-up sex when the timing's right. You quell your uneasiness. Everything will be alright, sooner or later.

Part 5.2: Hold on Loosely 

You spend the remainder of your time out with Eddie in his van, deciding to mind your own business as he finishes his sales for the day. He told you it’s okay to come along as long as you behave yourself, but you don't feel worthy of being in his company. You just sit quietly, waiting for him to return. You’ve smoked a lot of cigarettes today, wanting to at least fill the uncomfortable silence with the sound of sizzling embers and exhales of smoke clouds. After four more deals, Eddie’s finished with his business for the day. Next stop, picking up your repaired bicycle.

You space out again on the way there, wondering how long it'll take for this stupid fight to blow over. You wish it hadn't happened at all, the way you yelled in each other's faces until you turned red makes you feel queasy. It reminds you of the way Dad got into arguments with Mom all the time before he left. To see two people who claim to be in love yell and scream and say the most awful things to each other, it’s too much. You don't want to be like that, especially not with Eddie. Conflict frightens you, regardless if it can be resolved or not.

"I'll be right back." Eddie says nonchalantly. You realize you've arrived at the final stop of the outing. The wonder of getting stuck inside your own thoughts is not lost on you. You watch him retrieve your bike, sharing pleasantries with the man who you assume is the friend he told you about. He wheels the bike over to the back, placing it inside the same as he did that fateful Friday. He shuts the doors, perhaps a little too hard. The sound startles you, and you hear him curse under his breath. He climbs back into his seat, glancing at you sympathetically. "Sorry. I was a little rough there. I'm trying to be in a better mood, Y/N. Not quite sure when that'll be, though." He sighs.

"It's fine. I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon." You sulk, avoiding his eyes.

"It's not fine, though. Stewing about the whole thing won't help either of us." He sighs again, reaching over to cup your cheek.

"I hate this." You huff, crossing your arms. "I just want to be over it already. I've never felt so terrible in my life. And that includes puking my guts out on Sunday."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm not doing so hot over here either. We can go back home and cuddle, if you want. Or, we could do something else...if you're up for it." He can't hide his devilish grin at the suggestion.

Your head snaps to him, brows furrowed. "Are you serious?" You can't exactly say you hate the idea, but you don't believe he seriously wants to fuck you right now. "You're messing with me, right?"

"I am deadly serious, angel. What do you say, wanna make up with me?" His lips twitch in amusement, awaiting your answer.

"If it'll make us stop being mad at each other, by all means, let's give it a shot." You scoff at how unbelievable he is.

"I know the perfect spot, baby. Shouldn't take long to get there." He chuckles, putting the van into gear again. He peels out of the lot like a madman, eager to have his way with you at whatever place he's taking you to now. You slowly recognize the route as he drives, piecing together where you're going. Skull. Fucking. Rock. Of course, the 'hardest' place he can think of to rail you into oblivion. He drives up to the edge of the woods, parking crookedly. He rushes out of the van, jogging to your side to pull you from your seat.

"Skull Rock, huh? How romantic." You comment sarcastically, and he roughly smacks your ass in response.

"Shut your mouth, you dirty little slut." He says into your ear, sending a chill down your spine. He pulls you through the trees, going down the foot-beaten path to the rock formation where all the local horndogs go. It doesn't take long before you reach the infamous spot, and Eddie roughly pushes you up against the rock. The hard surface hurts a little when you make contact, but you can't be bothered to give a shit. His lips attack yours hungrily, and he grips your ass in his hands. You moan against him, running your fingers deep into his hair. His lips move on to your neck, biting so hard he almost draws blood.

"Eddie!" You cry out, loving every bit of pain he inflicts on you. You want him to hurt you, to punish you for what you said. He marks you deep and hard with his teeth, drinking up every whine and whimper that falls from your lips. You're already so wet, your arousal soaking through your panties. His hands leave your ass, and he frantically unzips your jeans. He shoves his hand inside, rubbing your clit ferociously. You moan again, tugging on his hair harder than you have before.

"Fuck!" He pulls his mouth away, staring into your eyes with blazing pupils. "God, you're just begging for it at this point. Such a filthy girl." He growls, shoving two fingers inside your dripping cunt. You cry out, holding his shoulders for balance. He curls them inside you, making a squelching noise as your juices spread into his palm. He yanks his hand out of your pants, bringing his fingers to your lips. "Be a good girl and lick them clean, princess." He says, waiting for you to open your mouth.

You do as he asks, taking his fingers deeply and easily. You almost choke as you suck your juices from them. Eddie watches you in awe with his mouth agape. "Mmm." You moan around him, winking as you bite down on him playfully. He groans at the feeling of your teeth on his flesh, and you finally let him go. "Yummy." You giggle mischievously.

"Turn around." He commands, his tone darkening. You apprehensively do as he asks, anticipation running wild in your veins. You lean against the rock, placing your hands flat on its surface. Eddie pulls down your jeans and panties, leaving them around your ankles. You shiver as your pussy is exposed to the cool air. He spanks your ass again, harder this time. "Such a dirty little slut, letting me fuck you in the middle of the woods." He purrs in your ear, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you at his words. You hear the jingle of his belt unbuckling, the sound of fabric tugging down his legs. He presses his body firmly against yours, holding his cock in his hand. Eddie drags his stiff length through your slick folds, causing you to moan simultaneously. "I want you to beg, Y/N. Beg me to fuck you like the whore you are." He orders.

"Please, fuck me, Eddie." You plead, almost whining. You can't take his teasing, the sensation of his dick rubbing on your clit is too much to bear.

"You'll have to do better than that." He barks through gritted teeth. He's dying to plunge into you, he's so hard it almost hurts. But he wants to make you pay for hurting him earlier, you need to beg for what you want.

"Please, fuck me. I need your dick inside me, Eddie. Go as hard as you want, I want you to hurt me. Please." You're nearly on the verge of tears, needing to feel him fill you up like no one else can.

"That's a good girl." He smirks, before slamming his cock into your cunt. You moan loudly, the sound echoing through the woods. Eddie grips your hips as hard as he can, his rings digging deep into your skin. He presses you further into the rock, your head resting against it sideways. Its smooth surface cools your skin, shocking your senses. He pulls out almost all the way, before slamming inside you again. He hammers into your pussy at a punishing pace, making you both so wound up it won't take long for you to cum. He's wasting no time, pounding into your g-spot with every stroke. "Fuck, you're so fuckin’ wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Rough, and fast, and dirty? Where anyone could catch us?" He asks you a mindless stream of questions, savoring how tight you’re squeezing around his dick.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! I love it like this, fuck me harder, baby." You plead helplessly, egging him on. He appeases your request, thrusting even faster. To think, just a couple hours ago you were arguing like your parents. And now you're fucking like wild animals in the goddamn woods. The whole thing is so thrilling, part of you wants to get caught. An intense knot is building inside your belly, pulled tighter and tighter as Eddie fucks you mercilessly.

He brings his ringed hand to your throat, squeezing tightly. You moan at him cutting off your oxygen, making your head feel light. "You're such a dirty girl, moaning when I choke you like this." He lets you breathe, leaving you gasping for air.

"I'm getting close, Eds. Fuck, you feel so good. Make me cum, baby. Fill me up." You keep calling out dirty things to him as he screws you silly, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the air.

"I’m almost there, too, angel. Fuck, your pussy is so hot and tight around my dick. And always soaking wet for me, such a good girl." He groans, breathing heavily. You're both soaked in sweat, your clothes sticking to your flesh as he continues to rut against you. His words drive you further toward the edge. He's so goddamn filthy like this and you can't get enough.

"Choke me again, baby…choke me while I cum." You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as your simmering orgasm quickly approaches. He obeys, squeezing even harder this time. Eddie's thrusts grow sloppy, signaling his own oncoming release. He keeps going to set you off with him, desperate to feel you lose it.

"Come on, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my cock, like a good little slut." He clumsily bites your earlobe, sending you crashing over the edge.

"Oh, god…fuck…EDDIE!" You scream as you cum, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Eddie holds you up, continuing to fuck you as your cunt clamps down onto his length. He groans, maintaining his pace as your walls milk him for all he's worth. Your release splashes down onto both of you, the warm liquid washing over his cock again. He swears he'll never grow tired of the phenomenal feeling it gives him.

"Fuck!" He shouts, his high prolonged by you squirting on him. He thrusts inside you a few more times, making your pussy spark with overstimulation. Eddie eventually slows down, carefully pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, and more arousal drips from your soaked cunt. He collapses onto you, panting loudly. "Jesus Christ." He huffs, planting a thoughtless kiss on your damp hair.

Your legs tremble like jelly, Eddie's weight on you is the only thing keeping you upright. Your insides clench around nothing, and tears stain your cheeks. "Do you forgive me now?" You ask meekly, trying to steady your breathing.

"Of course I do, angel." He replies, easing himself off of you to put his cock away. You fall to your knees, unable to stand anymore. "Shit, are you alright?" Eddie drops to your side, turning you around to look at him. He gasps at the bruise that’s formed on your cheek from being pressed into the rock. "Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry." He touches your face, making you wince. "Jesus, why didn't you say something? I didn't want to hurt you like this." His eyes are blown wide with worry, and he won't stop fussing over you. But you're not bothered by how sore and bruised you are, you wanted it. At least, you thought you did.

"Eddie, it's fine. I'm fine, really. It's not your fault, baby I promise. I-I liked it, I swear." You avoid his eyes, stuttering your words. You're not sure who you're trying to convince more, him or yourself. You try to stand, pulling your jeans up clumsily. Eddie steadies you, letting you lean against him.

Once you're all done up, he looks deep into your eyes intensely. "Be honest with me, Y/N. Did you actually enjoy that, or are you just trying to please me?" He's serious, concerned as to why you're so keen to convince him that the bruise on your face means nothing.

"I mean...I really liked the sex. And I like the way you talk to me, and the choking, obviously. I guess…the bruise isn't great. I feel like I deserve it, though." You don't mean to say that last bit, hoping to keep the self-destructive thoughts to yourself for once. But as soon as the words leave your lips, it changes Eddie's expression instantly. His face drops deeper into sadness, his eyes widening in shock at your suggestion.

"Y/N. There is never going to be a time where you deserve to be hurt. Not by anyone, and especially not by me. I know you still feel bad about what you said, and that's okay. But you don't, under any circumstances, need to let me hurt you to make it better. From now on, if something hurts, you fuckin' say so. Do you understand?" He holds your hands tightly, waiting for you to answer. He can't help getting a bit frustrated with you. He cares so deeply for you, and he never wants to cause you unnecessary pain.

"Yeah, I understand." You reply, tears falling freely from your reddening eyes. You're overcome with an intense wave of emotions. Sadness, shame, guilt, anger. It's all flooding your head, weighing you down. It's all too much, and your anxiety is getting the best of you again. Your knees give out underneath you, and you fall to the ground, your hands slipping out of Eddie's grasp. You land on your ass, the back of your head smacking against the rock. Blunt pain rattles through your skull, and you're already sensing a headache coming on. "Ow." You state simply, rubbing where you hit your head. You don't really care about a potential concussion at this point. You're too busy falling apart.

"Y/N, please, tell me what's wrong?" Eddie frantically kneels next to you again, unable to hold back his own tears. "Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I'm here. Okay?" He pulls you into his lap, holding you tightly.

You try to bite back your sobs, finding difficulty in forming words. You know Eddie wants to help you, and you shouldn't shut down on him. "I-I'm just being stupid, Eds. I just feel too many things right now." Your breath shudders as you speak, struggling to calm yourself down.

"Like what, princess? Tell me. You'll feel better if you do." He insists. You look into his eyes, finding a welcome warmth inside them. He smiles, stroking a finger along your face. "There you are. You're okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. What's going on in there?" He taps your temple, making you wince again. "Shit, sorry. Forgot you hit your head." He chuckles apologetically.

"It's okay, Eddie. But there's too much going on in here, it's so overwhelming." Nausea slowly washes over you, making your head spin. You quell your queasiness, focusing on Eddie's arms wrapping you up safely.

"I know, angel. Just take it slow, one feeling at a time, hm?" He says sweetly, doing everything he can to relax your swelling nerves. It doesn't help that talking about your darkest emotions and thoughts sends your body into a spiral. But Eddie won't move on until you share them with him, no matter how ugly they may be.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for his reaction, whatever it is. "Well...um, I feel angry at myself for saying what I did. It was so awful, I don't even know how I came up with that. It scares me that I'm capable of even thinking something like that, and to say it so easily. And I feel like I don't deserve you, Eddie. Even before our fight, I've just been waiting for you to realize being with me is too much and leave me behind. I'm a complete mess, if you haven't noticed by now." You can't help laughing at yourself, though what you said isn't all that funny.

"You may be a mess, Y/N. But so am I. Hell, you've seen my room." He jokes, making you giggle. “Keep goin’ baby.” He encourages you.

You sniffle, wiping the stupid tears away as you continue. "And I'm tired of crying all the time, but that's all I seem to be able to do. I'm usually better at hiding it. Or at least waiting until Mom and Dustin go to sleep." Again, you admit something you don’t mean to, but it's too late to take it back. Eddie scoffs at your confession, having a hard time accepting just how much you've needed someone like him to come along.

"You don't mean to tell me you cry every night when you're alone, do you?" He becomes serious again, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"Maybe. Most nights, at least." You mumble and shrug, rolling your eyes. "I dunno, I guess I'm used to it at this point. I feel so alone, all the time. I can be surrounded by people, even ones that make me happy, and I'm still all by myself inside. But I can't tell people that, even if it's true." You look down between your thighs, staring at the dirt and twigs beneath you.

"Do you still feel that way when I'm around?" Eddie asks, and your head shoots back up to meet his teary gaze. If he were a religious man, he'd pray to God that you give him the answer he's hoping for.

You cup both sides of his face, shaking your head purposefully. Your lip trembles as you form the words. "No, Eddie. You're the only person who makes that feeling go away. Since Friday, I've started feeling like a whole person again, instead of an empty shell. I'm only falling to pieces now because my dumb ass thinks I've fucked it all up. I still might have at this point." You explain, biting your lip as you’re still unclear on whether or not you’ve ruined everything.

"I promise, you haven’t." He replies, kissing you deeply. You hold each other close, moving your mouths together lovingly as salty tears roll down both your faces. You're entangled like this for what seems like hours, you swear the sun wasn't supposed to be setting just yet. You'd stay in this moment forever if you could, but your ass is getting numb. Eddie senses your discomfort, pulling away while wiping his eyes. "We should probably get going. Your Mom might worry about where you are."

"Yeah, I know. Oh, I left my bag at your place, with all my school stuff in it. But I can call home if we go back to get it, and we could grab some food before you take me home…if you want." You're coming up with any excuse to stay with him, you hate the idea of being without him for a single second.

"We can do that, baby. I can see you're not ready to say goodbye just yet. I'd be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way. We will have to do that at some point tonight, though, Y/N." It pains Eddie to even think about letting you sleep alone ever again. But he knows becoming attached at the hip isn't healthy, and you both need time apart on occasion.

"I know we do, which sucks. But, clinging to each other will end badly, and I definitely don't want that happening any time soon." You smile, slowly standing up. Your legs get pins and needles, causing you to stumble. Eddie's ready to catch you, but you manage just fine on your own this time. He stands up beside you, taking your hand.

"C’mon, sweetheart." He leads you back to the van, and the two of you discuss where to eat. "How ‘bout Chinese?" He suggests.

"Nah, it always makes me sick." You say, twisting your face in disgust. "What about...burgers?"

"That sounds perfect, angel." He squeezes your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours. You reach the van as the sky turns a deep orange hue, signaling your day with him coming to a close. You dread laying in bed by yourself again, the nights are especially lonely for you.

You climb inside the vehicle, and Eddie offers you another cigarette. What's one more when you've already had about ten today? You put it between your lips, letting him light it for you as he gazes into your eyes. He's watching you closely, gauging how you'll be doing mentally by the time he has to take you home. "Thanks." You say as you inhale the sweet smoke once again, you'll never get over the rush you get inside your head from it.

"Anything for my sexy girl." Eddie smirks, lighting a cig for himself. He's so hot when he smokes, letting the gray whisps flow slowly from his lips or out of his nose. It's not necessarily a positive thing, but it really suits him. You’ve always thought most people who smoke look kind of...depressing. But something about the way some people, namely Eddie, do it makes them so very attractive. He catches you staring again, chuckling lowly. "What you lookin' at, angel?"

"Just admiring my handsome boyfriend, that's all." You wink at him, placing a hand on his knee.

"Hm. Thought so." He replies like the smartass he is, starting the van for the second to last time tonight. You ride along to the nearest burger joint, going into the drive-thru. Eddie asks what you want, relaying it to the speaker box before ordering for himself. He pulls up to the window, paying and taking the greasy paper bag from the cashier. He hands it to you to hold until you get back to the trailer, and it warms your lap as the two of you head back. You playfully feed Eddie the occasional French fry from the bag, munching on a few yourself during the drive.

He turns the van into Forest Hills, pulling up next to the trailer. You hop out into the cold evening air, clutching the bag tightly. Eddie grabs your drinks, following behind you inside. Wayne's truck is gone, he's already left for his shift at the plant. "I'm gonna call Mom real quick. She's probably already called here a few times." You say as you plop the bag onto the kitchen table, going over to the phone. There's a note from Wayne that reads:

Hey kiddos,Y/N's mother has called a couple times wondering where she is. I told her you're together, and that you’re safe. You'd better give her a ring when you see this, though, she seemed ready to call the cops.-Wayne

"Shit, hopefully Mom hasn't sicced Chief Powell on us." You groan, flashing Eddie the note. You quickly dial home, and your mother picks up on the first ring.

"Y/N? Is that you?" Mom asks, clearly frazzled with worry.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm fine, I'm back at the trailer with Eddie. We were just out doing errands and stuff, nothing dangerous."

"Oh, thank God! I've been worried sick about you, I almost called the Sheriff!" She lets out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again.

You can't help rolling your eyes, and Eddie flashes you a disapproving look at your childish antics. You narrow your eyes back at him, unamused at him judging you. "I figured as much. Look, we picked up some dinner, but I'll be back home soon, okay?"

"Alright, sugarpuff. Be safe. I love you." She coos on the other end.

"Love you too, Mom. Bye." You hang up the phone, looking at Eddie again. "What?" You're confused by his expression. You go back to the table, taking a seat before reaching into the paper bag.

"She's just worried about you, Y/N." Oh, great. A lecture from your boyfriend, that'll pair well with dinner. Eddie takes the other chair across from you, nudging your knee with his under the table.

"I know, she's always worried about me. It's fuckin’ suffocating sometimes." You grumble, putting his burger and fries in front of him.

"Can you really blame her? She may be a bit overbearing, but she's just following her instincts. I know you think you're hiding your feelings from people to spare them, but she sees it. Dustin does too." He reaches for your hand, and you begrudgingly give it to him.

"Is that so? Well, if I'm so goddamn obvious, why don't they say anything?" You can't help getting annoyed at his words, though you know he's right.

He scoffs, smiling wryly. "Only you would find a way to make that an insult. ButI don't mean it like that. So, can you please chill the fuck out?" He gazes at you meaningfully, wanting you to hear him out. You nod, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again. "They don't say anything because they can tell you don't wanna talk about it. You know, due to how...aggressively independent you are." He can't help smiling at his choice of words.

"I recall you using the term 'stubborn' before." You comment, taking a bite out of your squished burger.

"Yes, and that was also a completely correct observation, Y/N. But my main point is that your family sees you struggling, but they know they can't help you unless you ask for it." He unwraps his own burger, waiting for you to respond. You contemplate what he's saying, you'd never considered that hiding yourself away might be affecting the people who love you.

"I never thought about it that way. I don't like being a burden on people, Eddie. They have their own shit going on. Why should they take on mine?" You rationalize.

He sighs, speaking while chewing. "It's not all or nothing, Y/N. Obviously, your problems are your responsibility first. But, there's nothing wrong with looking to others for support. You help your family with their issues, don't you? You've definitely helped me with mine." He swallows, eyes flicking to yours before taking another bite.

"Well, yeah, I do. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't." It's a no-brainer to you to help those you care about, but it never clicked for you that it's not unreasonable to expect it in return.

"You're right. It would be. And I don't mean to be harsh, sweetheart. But it's also kinda shitty to shut yourself off from the people who love you." He's right, it is a bit hurtful to hear. But it's honest.

You groan, admitting defeat. "Ugh! Alright, I'll try to be more open with them. God, must you always be right?" You say half-jokingly.

"Yep. It's my job." Eddie laughs, tangling his leg with yours. He rubs his foot against your ankle, his simple touch giving you goosebumps. The two of you finish your dinner, keeping up light conversation. As the food disappears, you're becoming more aware of just how little time you have left with him for the day. It shouldn't feel like such a big deal, and you don't want to be the 'crazy, clingy girlfriend'. You also don't want the day to end, you don't want to say goodbye. "Y/N, relax. I can already tell what you're thinking in that head of yours."

"I swear you just love calling me out, Munson." You roll your eyes, giggling at how intuitive he is. It makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy, because he pays such clear attention to your feelings. He's the first guy that's ever done that for you.

"Ouch, last name basis again, huh? Have it your way, Henderson." He chuckles, Eddie loves to tease like no other. You gather the empty wrappers and fry cartons, tossing them into the trash.

"I'm gonna grab my bag, Eds." You walk down the hall to his bedroom, taking a long look at the bed before retrieving your things. The blanket is all bunched up, evidence of the two of you sleeping here the previous night. You're tempted to lay down and refuse to get up, but you know it would be no use. Eddie's much stronger than you, he'd just pluck you off the mattress and carry you in his arms to the van. You sigh, reliving how safe you felt in his arms last night before shutting the door.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks, standing by the front door now. You walk up to him, putting your arms around his neck. His hands instinctively go to your waist, caressing your sides with his fingers.

"No, but I suppose I have to be, huh?" You ask, gazing up at him. He just nods, kissing your lips tenderly. You happily return it, moving your mouth against his in a languid rhythm. There's not an overwhelming tone of lust between you this time though, it's more like a bittersweet chorus floating around inside your heads. It's silly, really. You'll see each other again in the morning. But budding romance is one hell of a drug. A highly addictive and volatile one, at that. It's always tempting to dive off the deep end for the sake of another taste, but those who choose that route usually fizzle out in a couple of months. And you certainly don't want that, much as it pains you to let go for a few hours.

Eddie's the one to pull away, trying his best to show restraint and not absolutely rail you again on the kitchen table. "C'mon, baby. We gotta get you home." He says, his lips still unbearably close to yours. You lean forward to kiss him again, but he puts his hand up to stop you. "Nice try, but it's time to go." You back off, blushing at your failure. He smirks, taking your hand as he opens the door.

The ride home goes smoothly, Eddie pulls out all the stops to keep you giggling and happy as he drives. Before you know it, he's pulling up to your house. You grab your backpack from behind your seat, turning to Eddie. "You wanna walk me to the door, darling?" You ask mischievously, but he picks up what you're trying to do. He puts a hand on your knee, shaking his head.

"No, sweetheart. Only because I know you'll pull me down the hall and into your room, and I won't be able to resist. So, I'm resisting now." He holds strong, despite his heart and his cock begging him to do otherwise. You sigh at his words, frowning. "Don't pout, babydoll. I'll be back in the morning to bring you to class. And we can hang out afterwards. We'll do whatever you want. So, take our time apart to think about what you'd like that to be, 'kay?" Eddie cups your cheek, kissing your bruise, and then your lips. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow." He looks in your eyes, nodding to assure you that you'll be alright without him tonight.

You nod as well, holding back tears. You know it'll be okay, even if your tear ducts say otherwise. "Goodnight, Eds. I'll be dreaming of you until I see you in the morning." You peck his lips again, before leaving the van. You shut the door, waving to him. He waves back, slowly pulling out of the driveway. You stay outside in the chilly air until he's disappeared from your view. You hear the front door open behind you, and your mother comes outside.

"Sugarpuff! Thank God you're home! We've been worried about you!" She calls to you, and you turn around to follow her inside. You kick off your shoes in the entryway, and prepare for the interrogation you're about to be subjected to. "How'd school go today? Did you have fun with Eddie?" She asks, not yet taking notice of your bruise. You were hoping to slip past her with it until you could cover it with makeup tomorrow. But Dustin walks from the kitchen and spots it.

"What happened to your face?" He asks, and your heart stops. 

Mom leans to the side to see what he's talking about. She gasps, eyes going wide. "Oh my God! Is that a bruise? How'd you get that? Did Eddie hurt you?" She asks, brows furrowing in anger.

"If you'd let me get a word in, school was fine. I had a great time with Eddie, and the bruise was an accident. We were hanging out at Skull Rock and I slipped and hit my cheek. But I'm fine, thanks for asking." You don't mean to sound so defensive, but you're not really in the mood for the third degree.

"Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm your mother, and I'm here to support you." She looks so worried, though that's always been her default. You promised Eddie you'd be more open with her, and with Dustin. It’s definitely proving to be a challenge, though.

"I know, Mom. I know I've been hiding, a-and bottled up and everything. I haven't meant to be that way. I promise, if I need your help I'll ask, okay? But I’m fine. It was just an accident. Eddie would never hurt me, he was actually really concerned about the bruise." You insist, just wanting to go to bed already.

"Wait, Skull Rock? Don't people go there to一" Dustin says before Mom cuts him off.

"Dusty! Shut it, and mind your own business! Off to bed, you've got school tomorrow." She scolds, and he skulks off to his room. She turns to you again, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm just glad you're doing better, sugarpuff. Eddie seems like a really good guy for you. I'll quit prying so much and let you get some rest. You look so tired."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you. And I'll try to be more open with you about how I'm doing, okay? I'm sorry for closing myself off for so long. That wasn't right of me." She gasps when you squeeze her tightly, you've never been one to hug her like this before. She knows you really mean it, almost tearing up.

"It's okay, Y/N. You've always been fiercely independent, which I've always admired in you. But I'm here when you need me, no matter what." The two of you pull apart finally, and you head to your room for the night. 

You find that Mom has done your laundry again, despite how often you insist you'll do it yourself. All the clothing has been put away already, except for one item, folded neatly on your bed. It's the Hellfire shirt Eddie gave you, and you instantly change into it to sleep in. You open your bag to take out anything not school related, when you find something peculiar. An unopened pack of Eddie's cigarettes, and his lighter. You hold them in your hands, noticing a note written in black marker on the box:

For when you miss me, sweetheart.-E

Eddie has surprisingly neat handwriting, and he’s even drawn a little heart on the box. You smile like an idiot, he knew you'd want nothing more than to smell his cigarettes when he's not around. You have no idea when he slipped them in your bag. It must have been last night, or on the way home when you weren't looking. Either way, you can't help loving him even more for the present. You take the gifts to your bedroom window, opening it wide to allow the smoke to escape. You light up one last time for the evening, imagining Eddie by your side as you let clouds of white flow freely into the night sky.

To be continued...

#hippiegoth97 #eddie munson #stranger things #hawkins #smut #fanfiction #1980s #into the fire #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x female reader

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Raven! Have you seen the Disney 100 Jack birthday card art that has been circulating around yet? Any thoughts on the paintings? I think I remember you mentioning that the portraits would be good for figuring out what inspirations more ambiguous characters like Jack were twisted from.

The idea that the background frames for the new birthday series would reveal the explicit Disney reference for each TWST boy was popular fandom speculation when Platinum Suit Jamil was initially teased, NOT something actually ever confirmed, stated, or even implied by official TWST sources. Some people were also speculating that maybe the background frames were just the respective G7 of each boy's dormitory. We only had Jamil to go off of at the time, which didn't give us a lot of clear information since Jamil is both very clearly twisted from Jafar but is also in Scarabia, a dorm which has also has Jafar as its representative from the Great 7.

Then Platinum Jacket Ace came out in late September and seemed to continue the pattern of "the background shows one image that shows direct inspiration for the TWST boy"; there were heart card soldiers in one frame, which is what Ace seems to be twisted from. This made a lot of fans hype to finally get character inspiration confirmation for more ambiguous characters like Jack (which has been an ongoing debate in the fandom for years now).

***Spoilers for the main story, as well as Jack's Platinum Suit initial art + related discussion below the cut!***

... However, that ended up not being the case as soon as Jack's Platinum Suit card preview was released. Which brings us to today 😅 I think you see what the "issue" here is, right??? How can Jack, a wolf beastman, possibly be based on Rafiki, a baboon??? Mmmm, I don't have really anything to add regarding the actual frames? It is what it is, and though I will admit it got my hopes up when Jamil was first revealed, I also suspected it would be a long shot given how eclectic ("borrowing from many sources") some of the characters are.

I guess it was presumptuous for us to jump to a conclusion when we only knew about Jamil and even when we also knew about Ace; the problem is that two in a row doesn't make a pattern, just a coincidence. We need at least three to establish a pattern, and Jack here disrupts it. What we actually see here is that the frame to our left (the character's right) is likely just the painting the birthday boy chooses as a decoration for the Guest Room. (It is listed as “[Character’s] chosen painting” in Sam’s shop.) Alternatively, maybe some boys will have their character inspo if it is very clear (like how Jamil is twisted from Jafar) while the non-determinant characters like Ortho will get some other Disney character from the same film (ie Pain/Panic, the Fates, etc.) rather than a single specific inspo.

I think the TWST fandom is like... very fixated on picking ONE exact character that corresponds to each TWST boy just because the dorm leaders (ie the most iconic group in marketing) have clear inspirations. That expectation then gets extended to the rest of the cast, even though it's not true that everyone only takes inspiration from their own films--even the dorm leaders make references to and allude to various Disney properties. There's no harm in debating, having your own interpretation, or drawing parallels for fun, but it gets to a point where it's... fruitless??? To try to come to a firm conclusion on the subject. It may be less contentious to accept that some of the cast are a blend of inspirations, ideas, and motifs. Even the more "concrete" characters can functionally serve in multiple different roles or as correlates to many different Disney characters. Azul is twisted from Ursula, but he is also able to be Jamil's "Genie in the Lamp" (a line which Jamil actually uses to refer to Azul) for book 4. Vil is twisted from the Evil Queen, but he is the hero Hercules when he sacrifices his youth to rescue Idia from Tartarus. At the same time, you could argue that Ortho (who is very Pinocchio-esque, going from robot to "real boy"), also has Hercules traits and Vil is serving as a dual role as Megara, the damsel in distress. (More on that in this post!)

None of the TWST characters are bound to one movie or to the characters they're supposedly based off of, and this works to the IP's advantage. It allows each character to feel like their own person, not just a copy of or a reinvention of one Disney counterpart.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Jamil Viper #Jack Howl #Ace Trappola #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #spoilers #Rafiki #Scar #The Lion King #Ortho Shroud #Vil Schoenheit #Azul Ashengrotto #Jafar #The Fates #Pain #Panic #Megara #Hercules #Pinocchio #Ursula #Evil Queen

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

Spider-Band With a S/o Who Hyperfixates on Things Hard

Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, and Pavitr Prabhakar (separate) x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None! (Except my attempt at British talking—)

Summary: Really what the title says—

A/n: This is actually an idea i had when i first fell into the spider verse fandom but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Glad ya’ll picked this one! Enjoy!! Also lmk if any of ya’ll wanna be on a tag list!! I know i don’t write all that much but still—

Miles Morales 🌻🎧🌻

Bby is here for it

Always listening to what you have to say and never complaining

I have a feeling he’d be just as excited as you even if he’s got no clue what you’re talking about

He’d try to get into your interests with you no matter how outlandish they may seem

(I mean he’s basically a spider what’s so weird about fnaf lore—)

Definitely draws you things based off of the subject

“You said they were your favorite, right?”

Is always sending you memes and funny videos about your interest

Asks you for updates on your interest if it’s a series

Holds you when something bad happens and you’re sad

“Shh, shh…Hey, at least they existed, right?—Oh, no that made it worse—“

Going back to rambles, he’s always listening but maybe not always looking at you

But trust me

That boy could recite what you say perfectly

He just likes to listen while he works or draws

Has definitely made a mural of you and him in the world together (used it as a date spot. It’s true, he told me)

Overall

20/10 boyfriend

(I mean they all are but like—)

Hobie Brown 🎸⚡️🎸

Will spend hours learning songs related to your interest

But then he’s like

“What? Oh, i been knowin’ this song, luv. What’re ya on about?”

Say for instance, you dive deep into an artist or band

Obviously, Hobie’s gonna ask you about them

But would never ask you for your favorite songs because he’s “Too busy writing his own”

So he just pays really close attention to the songs you talk the most about

(As i previously stated, he learns them all and plays it off)

When you figure it out he’s just like:

“Took ya long enough, luv”

He also listens to your rants about whatever it is (much like Miles and everyone else here but shhh)

But here’s why he stands out

This man can keep up

He can and will remember all about it, and basically know about much as you do

Steals things from stores that are from the series or whatever it is

“Hobie, how’d you get this?” “It was on display and i knew you’d love it.” “Wow! I thought you didn’t buy things from brands..” “…” “You stole it…”

You’re too busy loving whatever it is to stay mad

(But we all knew you weren’t mad)

If you think your interest is cringey then you’re WRONG

“But it’s for kids—“ “And? So what?” “Well…uhm….hm.” “Yeah. Thought so. Now keep goin’, I’m invested.”

(But also in general, bby. Love what you love and come to me if anyone says it “weird” or “cringey”. I’ll beat them up bestie<33)

All in all, a king<33

Gwen Stacy 🩰🥁🩰

I’m gonna be honest

She is lost

Even if you go over things twenty times she still won’t get it

And that’s okay!

She takes notes and tries to keep up

Definitely proud of herself when she gets a detail right

“And then—“ “Wait, wait. Let me guess…He…he burned the pizzeria down, right” “Uhm—yeah, actually!” “*insert proud face*”

(Woah look at the trans flag colors^^^)

Definitely binge watches or reads your interest and learns as much as she can

She keeps a notebook full of her notes that she refers back to whenever you two are on call

She played it off as writing down some notes for school

But one day, she asked you to grab her suit from inside her drum set, and you found the notebook

It caught your eye because it had the name of your interest on it and you were like:

“Hey, Gwen? What’s this?” You showed her the notebook

I wish you could see my vision

When i tell you Gwen stood there for a good minute

I mean she stood there for several

Anywho

She just admitted to it and was all red and fidgety

Since this is her world, she was cast in mostly pink and red hues and the space around her fluttered yellow

You end up going through it with her, and talk about your favorite bits

Overall? She deserves several gold stars and cookies

Pavitr Prabhakar 🍵☀️🍵

Bby is here for it

Whenever you get excited he’s excited

When you’re on the verge of tears he’s already crying

He is your favorite character’s number one supporter

He’s always going on and on with you about your interests

Because unlike the others, he manages to actually get into whatever it is you’re talking about and not just keep up

It’s honestly a skill of his

I feel like Pav also has special interests that he dives deep into

Like

Deep deep

Same as you so you two get along well :D

He’s always looking for the newest content and sending it to you always

“Hey! They said the next episode would be released next Tuesday!! :DDD” “There’s a new theory for the last volume!”

It’d be cute if that’s how you met and became friends

You spend sleepovers diving into your shared and separate interests with eachother

You know what’d be funny?

If he also info dumps onto the villains he fights

Like

Hear me out

Pav tying up a villain who tried to rob a place and just going

“Yeah, so me and my partner have a theory for why—“

And the villain is just like

Stfu??????

But they’d never say that because it’s Spider-Man

All in all, your number one hype man and best friend :]

———————————-

YA’LL I DID IT :DD

#i literally just sat down #opened tumblr #and boom #ya’ll #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #headcanon #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #gn reader #Love ya’ll<333 #spider-man across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader

[discobiscotto]

Just Guys Bein’ Dudes: A Needlessly Huge TED-Talk About Luca & Alberto’s Relationship

Ready for some big-brain BS?

Well, ready or not, here’s a “little” dive into how I interpret/perceive Luca and Alberto’s relationship.

Note: I’m referring to them as my own headcanon versions of them as men. It can certainly be applied to them as young adults and teens for sure, but I’m diving into ‘Ciao Luca’ territory specifically. So, there, just being clear on the who’s who.

What’s their deal anyhow?

Are they romantic partners? Are they attracted to eachother, yanno 👉🏻👈🏻? Buddies? Buddies with benefits? Are they even a couple? Are they husbands? What’s their deal?

So, a couple years ago when I was starting to get really busy with the headcanons, I went on a tear about their relationship to lay down some kind of clear foundation for it. I felt alittle conflicted at the time about how their relationship was going to feel/act like.

To me, because I love ambiguity, I wanted to keep that energy going from the original source material…but with alittle “oomph”…considering there’s been time and maturity tacked on. They can’t just be Pallin’ Around forever, something’s gotta give with chemistry that strong imo.

If I’m being honest, them being point-blank romantic partners felt too cliched and predictable/boring. Courtship, wooing, marriage…snore. It just didn’t feel like ‘them’ to me. It bordered heteronormative somehow. I was just …PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP.

Not to say they aren’t romantic, because they certainly are in their own right! It just isn’t the defining Vibe of their relationship.

As a queer lady with a pretty open mind in terms of what defines a relationship and/or bond, I believe that love expression is on a spectrum. Different strokes for different folks, yanno?

I scooted myself over to that old filing cabinet in my brain with random Greek Philosophy tid-bits (that I was impressed wasn’t put thru the incinerator) and I got polishing.

I remembered a few terms, like storge (family love), Eros: romantic, mania: obsessive/stalkerish love, agape, philia, the list goes on.

We’re gonna focus on PHILIA, typically deemed affectionate and/or “brotherly love”, I think also falls under platonic love.

We’re going to come back to this later☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

As a couple of seamonsters (first and foremost) the human concept of love may not necessarily compute to them. Not that they get confused or turn their nose up at it, but rather it’s more boxed-in and rigid than, I guess, fish love? Haha.

Example: homosexuality, bisexuality, and heterosexuality as concepts are human inventions to help humans navigate their life and their identity in the world, be part of a tribe, and potentially find mates.

They’re social constructs, like gender conformity, and Mondays.

Seamonsters really don’t have that. They’re similar to humans in alot of ways, but in terms of attraction, love, and social awareness, they just kindof ride the wave and go where the current takes them.

Opposite sex pairings likely happen more often because [gestures] instincts and Makin’ Fries. But just like humans, same sex relationships happen just as much!…but seamonsters have no concept of homophobia (strictly a human invention) so there’s no discouragement or imposed fear of the relationship…it just happens if it’s meant to and the world keeps spinning. [deep sighs]

Luca and Alberto are aware of human society and customs (especially now that they’ve been living amongst them for atleast 15 years). So, they still try to do-as-the-humans-do sometimes. They know that they feel a strong bond to eachother that can’t be ignored, and when humans sense a similar bond between each other they express it by being physically intimate, or giving gifts, or creating things for eachother, etc.

So, basically, it boils down to “I love my friend, so I wish to express that love for him like that [gesture].”

Now bringing it back to Philia up there!👆🏻

That particular source defines philia as brotherly love, both must be men (in the Greek system), they respect and take pleasure in eachother’s company, bond through exploring philosophical truths, and sexual intimacy or attraction is optional.

This other source takes it a bit further saying that we could be diving into “friends to lovers” territory which is the aforementioned “oomph” I was referring to. The bridge into Eros stuff without being completely rooted there (ie your usual romantic pair).

Their relationship isn’t based on physical attraction, but began as a close friendship that progressed into something more. Not built on lust, but on mutual affection and respect for eachother.

They are an “unlikely” pair. Where a hockey hug became alittle tighter, and the joined hands in a good old “Piacere Girolamo Trombetta” started to linger.

They feel safe with eachother, they love and prefer eachother’s company, they share eachother’s worlds and feel deeply connected in them. Alberto cooks meals for them because he loves Luca, and Luca gives Alberto [SPOILER] because he loves him back.

They share a “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel safe, warm, and happy with you, I enjoy your company and what we have, I love the feeling of you being close to me, exchanging warmth and heartbeats, and I feel like this is more than going out on dates or ‘picking out curtains’.” kind of thing.

They’re roommates who kiss and “play house”. They are in love…but express it in their own unique way. They are openly affectionate. They keep people guessing, they confuse the neighbors, they have an “inside joke”.

Alberto lays on the housewife schtick: straightening Luca’s tie and sending him on his way with a packed lunch.

They call eachother heteronormative terms of endearment, mostly to be cheeky. Sarcastic “Honey” or “Dear” followed by someone affectionately ending up in a headlock.

They love to play with the human version of “married life”, little do they realize they’ve grown genuinely accustomed to it.

They’re queer but have no name and nowhere they’d rather be except each other’s arms (that one place that makes perfect sense).

They aren’t married…they never can get married…but that doesn’t stop them from sharing their homes, their beds, and a last name written on their Christmas cards.

In conclusion, humans say they’re gay.

The Paguro’s say “They built a farm together.”

SOURCES:

#luca #luberto #luca1970s #discobiscotto design notes #greek philosophy #headcanon #ciaolucafic #i want what these bitches have #ciaoluca #ciao luca #older!alberto #i want what they have #older!luca #old lady yells at cloud #I want what they have and so do you

[theminecraftbee]

Hey I'm thinking of reading scs but there are some things I. Don't want to think about, could you give me a trigger warning list or something if its needed? /nf ofc

uhhhhhh I am bad at putting tags on my own fics for the record; my own fics are basically always within my own limits and I’m bad at guessing other people’s! if anyone ever needs me to provide specific spoilers for a fic of mine feel free to dm me (or send an ask off anon so I can respond privately) and I can give way more detail on any specific thing you’re trying to get information on without trying to be coy about major spoilers.

however, if I had to make a general trigger warning list, probably something like:

dehumanization (human weapon fic, genre-typical amounts.)

misgendering (largely accidental but still pointed out within the plot.)

deadnaming (KIND OF. it’s not on a literal level deadnaming, but everyone who has read it has read it as this, the metaphor is not unintentional, there’s a reason I tagged it.)

major character death (this one is… complicated, I joke in the tags that it’s a matter of philosophy, but death and grief are huge themes and the fic has an answer to the philosophical question here that leads me to go “yeah this one needs a mcd tag”, because people who hate mcd will probably want to avoid this one. that said the character who may or may not be dead it’s complicated becomes so before the start of the fic, not during it.)

body horror (typical for me levels.)

some amount of gore and violence (still well within t-rating levels, I didn’t wobble about the rating for this one like I did for stuffed bird.)

references to torture (it is not on-screen.)

if anyone else has anything I missed please let me know! as I said, I’m not always great at giving content warnings for my own stuff, haha.

#answered #solving counting sheep talk