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lena-in-a-red-dress · 1 year

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Beyond the Lights, Pt 1

Lena is a fast-rising pop artist who's dealing with a lifetime of being pushing by her overbearing stage mother to be the best and anything less is nothing. After an awards night where Lena wins song of the year, Kara is the cop (!!!! yum yes pls) posted outside Lena's hotel room. As such, she's the one who responds when Lillian screams, having found her daughter sitting on the rail of her 12th floor balcony, ready to jump.

Despite Kara's attempt to get Lena back on the safe side of the ledge, Lena lets go-- only for Kara to catch her at the very last moment. Only there, Lena dangling from Kara's grip, do they truly connect.

Lena allows Kara to haul her up, where Lillian swiftly takes over and shuttles her daughter inside, leaving Kara on the balcony to recover her breath. Only minutes later, it's like nothing happened-- Lena's in a makeup chair and her stylist is laying out her next dress on the bed for an after party. Kara feels like she's the only one rattled-- the only indication Lena is bothered at all is the fact she refuses to meet Kara's gaze.

To the press, they play it off as a drunken, adrenaline-fueled accident, and not the cry for help that it is. Even the police are in on the story, to Kara's disgust. When it's her turn to speak at the eventual press conference, she manages to toe the party line without lying, but it leaves her with a bad taste in her mouth.

Immediately following the press conference, Kara finds herself alone in a room with Lena-- the first time she's ever seen Lena alone. Now, however, Lena is not the emotionally numb and vunerable woman Kara witnessed on the balcony, but prickly and haughty.

"I hope you enjoy your fifteen minutes," she snips, crossing her long legs as she settles into a conference room seat.

Kara looks at her in confusion.

"Of fame," Lena clarifies, as though she were speaking with a child. "You should enjoy it while it lasts."

The blase attitude immediately rubs Kara the wrong way. She's tired, angry, and frustrated-- a bad combination. "You sound awfully condescending for someone I just hauled over a railing."

Lena's sneer sours. "And you sound pompous for someone who claimed they could see me." She lifts her chin, looking down her nose at Kara. "So tell me, what do you see?"

It takes Kara by surprise. The irritation whooshes from her when she realizes that, in all honesty, she can't see anything beneath the haughty facade Lena has put on.

Kara prides herself on being able to read people. Her sister teases that she should be a profiler. But with Lena it's as though, under the silky hair and red lips... she's hollow.

"Nothing," Kara answers.

Lena's facade stutters as shock flits across her face. Lillian's arrival in the next moment interrupts any response Lena might have, and Kara can only watch as mother ushers daughter out of the room with a cursory last thank you to Kara as they go.

Kara doesn't expect she'll ever see Lena again.

#supercorp #beyond the lights au #sorry cant help it #i need kara in a cop uniform #angst #cw attempted suicide #not graphic

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willowworkswithwords · 1 year

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I see it in your eyes

read on ao3

Steve has a relentless habit of setting his perfect, scrubbed Nikes up together by the door of any house he visits. Even his own house, where there’s never been anyone to tell him to do it or to tuck his shoes into line for him.

Eddie is staring down at two muddy Nikes.

One is standing straight up, balancing on the heel against the wall. The other lies beneath its shoeprint on the opposite wall, laces limp against the spotless tile.

“Steve?”

Robin had called. Had said something about Steve needing to get his ass in bed, which Eddie couldn’t agree with more on general principle. She’d been flippant but her worry hadn’t escaped him. When he’d been nearly out the screen door of the trailer, Wane had hollered after him about takin care of his damn friends all the time, how they needed to take care of him for once. They both knew it was more bark than bite. Wayne loved the Party, was starting to like Steve despite how he’d heard Steve’s last name too much in his life connected with hurts and bloody knuckles. But when the Beemer had peeled into their strip of gravel driveway just after Wayne had gotten back from work on a freezing October morning and Steve had spilled out, face bruised and breaths frantic, Wayne’s nephew’s name on split lips, Wayne had started to gently, carefully, reel Steve in.

Nowadays it’s never bite.

Eddie picks his way down the hallway now, looking for something, anything, that’ll tell him Steve’s safe, that he’s just being an asshole on accident, that his behavior had slipped his own mind and he was actually, genuinely sorry for the mud and mess.

Underneath that, he looks for blood, for strewn nails, for a bleeding body.

His feet thunder up the stairs when he comes up empty.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s door remains closed. The bathroom door is open and Eddie slams the light on and then promptly thwacks his hand right back down on the switch because Steve is there, on the floor, not bleeding but with bile on his shirt and a keening sound on his lips.

“…Steve?”

Steve makes anther desperate noise. From the light filtering in from the hallway Eddie watches one hand pull away from where it’s snaked across the toilet seat and weave itself into Steve’s hair and pull.

Eddie finds himself on his knees.

“Hey, hey hey hey, what’s going on, Steve?” And he keeps his voice low and gentle, one hand on Steve’s back while the other rests atop the hand that’s hell-bent on pulling Steve’s hair straight from the roots and tries to get Steve to relax. He’s wound up tight, the noises falling from his mouth sounding more like they’re from tennis shoes squeaking against linoleum than like they’re from a human being.

Eddie waits a long moment for Steve to get out a response. His jaw is clenched so hard Eddie can see where the tendon sits taut in his cheek.

“Migraine.”

Oh.

The clenching in Eddie’s own stomach releases all at once and he realizes he hadn’t breathed in fully for ten minutes. But a migraine. A migraine was something manageable, something non-life-threatening. A normal, mundane, painful part of existence that no doubt came from Steve’s impressive number of Upside Down adjacent head injuries. But not cosmic, not supernatural, not aiming to have him dead by midday.

Eddie lets out a long sigh and presses his hands more firmly where they rub soothing circles. Eddie’s only been present for one of Steve’s migraines, and according to Robin it could have at most been categorized as a 4.6 out of 10. At the time, Eddie had thought she’d been ridiculous because Steve had been bent in half, eyes squeezed closed looking for all the world like someone had socked him in the gut again. But now…

“Ok, ok. You wanna stay or move?”

He keeps his voice low, watching Steve’s face for any nonverbal response. Even when it wasn’t a migraine, sometimes the words left Steve and body language was just easier.

Steve clutched to toilet bowl a little tighter, which Eddie hadn’t realized was possible.

“Ok, Stevie.”

They wait it out. From what Robin always says, Steve’s migraines usually hit hard and fast, sticking around much longer than you’d expect, so Eddie makes himself as comfortable as he can on Steve’s bathroom floor, grateful for the plush bathmat underneath him, ignores the twinges in his sides as he’s scrunched up for a while. He’s sure Steve’s own sides are hurting like a bitch right now, still more healing wounds than scares quite yet.

Steve throws up two more times and Eddie wonders if he should worry about dehydration. He doesn’t know how long Steve was throwing up before he got here, but he’s betting it was long enough that Steve’s gonna get himself into a bad place if it goes on much longer. He thinks about calling Wayne and decides to wait on it, tucking that into the back of his mind. He can take care of Steve for now. As much as Wayne and Steve were beginning to get along, Steve was still jumpy around him, around any man over forty, and Eddie didn’t want to push him.

“Alright, hey let’s um, you think you’re ok for now?”

He tries to keep his hands still and firm against Steve, waits him out.

Steve nods.

The walk from the bathroom to Steve’s room sticks out in Eddie’s mind, but looking back he can’t remember how long it took or if they fell or how many tries it took before he got Steve levered against him. It’s just the sound of Steve’s panted breaths and his own reassurances that have etched themselves into his memory.

He’s been pushing the feelings Steve keeps bringing up in his gut right back down for weeks, because what he and Steve has is good. It’s one of the few good things he’d been able to cling to without pretense because Steve knew, he’d been there right alongside Eddie in the worst hell of his life, the whole way through. The guys from Hellfire, they’ll never stop being Eddie’s friends, not as long as he has a say. But it was different with Steve, good different, safe and easy even though it was hard won, and he didn’t want to screw it up.

So. Bottling it up.

The excruciating journey ends and Eddie gently lays Steve down against his pillows. He waits a sec, waiting for Steve to take the lead here because this is new territory. The room, no. Eddie’s been in Steve’s room before. But Steve is hurting. Eddie has taken care of his uncle, not friends who’ve always had their families. They’ve never needed him quite like this before.

Steve rolls over onto his side, facing his wall, curled up and whimpering. Eddie doesn’t make any noise. He sits on the side of Steve’s bed and reaches for Steve’s socked feet.

“Socks on or off, Stevie?”

Steve pushes his feet together in a couple little kicks. Eddie lets himself laugh, just the slightest.

“I gotcha.”

Steve is listless through it, even when Eddie takes the far edge of the comforter and pulls it around him. Eddie almost thinks Steve has dropped into sleep. He turns to go, thinking of sleeping on the couch downstairs just to be safe, thinking of calling Robin and Wayne, when a shaky hand grabs his wrist.

“Stay?” Steve’s face is smashed against his pillows, eyes still squeezed shut and the crease between them deep and pained.

Eddie pushes the wave of oh I want this to be more down down down and squeezes Steve’s hand back.

“Okay.”

It had been early evening when Eddie had followed Steve into bed. He hadn’t expected to sleep, but when he opens his eyes next the room is dark except for a shaft of light cutting across the floor to shine on the closet. His brain takes it’s time coming back to him, sensations seeping in like they only ever do when he’s slept hard and deep. He’s warm. Something tickles the back of his neck. A weight is slung over his stomach, pressing a line from scar to scar. He lets himself lay in it for a moment. This was…really nice.

The warmth pressed against him shifts and the tickling at the back of his neck turned to a soft snuffle.

Steve.

Steve was the weight pressed around and against, the tickling his nose against Eddie’s neck, Steve’s soft breaths the noise Eddie hadn’t been able to quite place.

Eddie tenses, he knows he does, because him and Steve are friends, sure, and Steve hasn’t seemed to mind Eddie being in his personal space too much on movie nights or when they all hung out but they’re in Steve’s bed.

“M’ning,” Steve breathes against Eddie’s neck.

Eddie keeps still, waits for the moment Steve’s mind comes back to him, waits for the migraine fog to slip away and for Steve to realize he’s cuddling Eddie in his own bed.

A cautious moment passes where Steve doesn’t move or speak or show any sign of lashing out, of pushing Eddie out of the bed and onto the cold floor.

“…Good morning.”

Eddie whispers it, a deep gut feeling coming up inside him. He pulls a lock of his hair across his mouth, waiting waiting waiting.

“Thank you for staying.”

Eddie sucks in a breath.

“Yeah man, wasn’t gonna leave you in a puddle on your bathroom floor.”

Steve chuckles then winces.

“Shit man, still got a headache?”

Steve sighs, tapping his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder a few times.

“Yeah. It’s not as bad now, but this one’s not letting up.”

“Is there anything I can get? Like, you got meds or something?”

“No, I took the last of the painkillers I have before I threw them up.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, thinks of Wayne’s hidden worry.

“I’ve got stuff at my place, if you’re feeling up for a drive?”

“Stuff?” Steve’s voice is teasing.

“Just regular old painkillers, Stevie. You’re not getting anything else from me until you can look around without squinting.”

Steve smiles and Eddie feels his lips curl against his neck. He’s not sure he quite hides the shiver that passes through him.

Getting Steve downstairs and to Eddie’s van is, blessedly, not as hard as Eddie anticipates. Steve groans when he sees the scuff marks his shoe made on the wall but shoves his feet into his Nikes without trying to clean it up, which makes Eddie walk a little closer to him. Steve, Eddie has found out, is a neat freak by both nature and nurture, which means he’s an absolute menace most of the time and will fight tooth and nail to make sure things, especially his house, are tidy. Eddie knows a little about Janet and Richard Harrington, and he’s been speculating a lot more, with each habit of Steve’s he learns was grown from fear.

But now the backs of Steve’s shoes are folded inwards where Steve shoved his still sockless feet into them, and Eddie places one hand in the middle of his back when he climbs into the passenger seat. Just the short trip has put that crease back between Steve’s eyebrows.

“We’ll get you those sweet, sweet painkillers in no time, Steve,” Eddie says as he settles into his seat and turns the keys. His hand shoots out right in time to crank the volume knob down, Dio beginning, softly now, in the background. The corners of Steve’s mouth quirk up.

They’re off, the fifteen minutes across town passing by slower than Eddie thinks they should. Steve’s forehead remains pressed against the cool glass of the window, eyes closed and mouth pressed into a thin line. Eddie drives like most people, for once, turning gently into the entrance to Forest Hills and down the lane to the new trailer, a double wide now, that the government gave him and Wayne. Wayne’s car is still parked in front. It’s one of his one night off, and Eddie realizes he never did call him earlier. There’s still a glow through the curtains. He turns the keys and Dio splutters out, making Steve peek his eyes open.

“We’re here.”

Eddie doesn’t move for a second and neither does Steve.

“Hey, uh, is your uncle gonna have a problem with me over this late?”

Eddie laughs, still keeping it quiet, and looks at Steve.

“Nah man, he’s used to me by now. Plus, he still stays up most of the night on his night off so he doesn’t screw up his sleep schedule.”

Steve seems hesitant, beyond migraine-pain hesitancy. He and Wayne had been good for a while now, so Eddie doesn’t know what to make of Steve’s nervous twiddling fingers.

“He’s not gonna care, Steve. When I left he wanted to make sure you were ok too.”

Steve’s head whips up.

“He did?”

“Yeah man, he did.”

Neither of them move for a second, and Eddie lets Steve think until Steve winces and Eddie tries to open up his door as quietly as possible, crossing in front of his van to the passenger side, trying again to sidestep the creaking of the door. Steve slides his legs so they hang out the door, taking a deep breathe then pushing himself out. Eddie hovers right next to him the whole seven steps to the door, sliding in front of Steve to unlock it and carefully let Steve go in first.

Wayne is sitting on the couch with a beer, watching baseball. He tips his head to the side, mouth open as if he was going to say something, then closing when Steve is all he can see for a moment before Eddie enters behind him, closing and locking the door.

Steve wobbles and Eddie slides up right next to him, left arm sliding almost all the way around his waist. Steadies him.

“Well hey boys. Wasn’t expecting you so late.”

Eddie squints his face up at Wayne, aware of his teasing beneath the worry in his voice.

“Yeah well, Steve here still isn’t feelin’ too hot and ran out of pain killers,” Eddie says, voice an exaggerated whisper. “We’re just gonna head to my room, kay?”

Wayne eyes Steve, turns the TV volume way down, and makes eye contact with Steve that Eddie is surprised Steve keeps.

“You get feelin’ better soon, son.”

He turns back to the TV. Eddie adjusts his grip and peers at Steve. Steve’s face is half pain, half confusion, and Eddie tightens his hold again and begins to walk them down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Steve mouthing ‘son’ over a few times.

Bathroom. Painkillers. Eddie tosses Steve a pair of sleep pants. Steve miraculously doesn’t fall over during the whole process, even while both change with their backs to each other.

And then, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Eddie is back in bed with Steve. Steve is on the inside, facing Eddie. Eddie slips into his sheets and hesitates for just a second, then turns his back to Steve.

A moment passes. Eddie’s heart is creeping up his throat as he slides one of his feet in between Steve’s behind him.

Neither moves.

Eddie’s glad Steve can’t see his face.

Steve doesn’t breathe for just a moment, his soft breaths just barely brushing Eddie’s hair stopping and Eddie’s heart is falling fast.

Then Steve’s hand touches Eddie’s side, waiting.

Eddie shift back against Steve.

Steve snakes his arm around Eddie, still light still tense.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, Steve.”

Eddie whispers into darkness, but Steve replies.

A sigh rustles Eddie’s hair at the base of his neck and the soft breathes from earlier that night are back. Eddie breathes out, long and deep. They relax into one another and Eddie doesn’t push the feelings away. He cradles them, relishes them, hopeful hopeful hopeful, and falls asleep warm.

#i'm nervous but very excited to post this #I'd love to hear what y'all think!#steve harrington migraines #eddie munson #hurt steve harrington #hurt/comfort #supportive wayne munson #minor vomiting #not graphic #not so unrequited love

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roadkillgenderenvy · 11 months

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Dead bird

NOT graphic [No blood] [No guts]

#can anyone identify what kind of bird it is?#not graphic #roadkill #dead things #animal death #dead animal #vulture culture #roadkill pictures #roadkillgenderenvy

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transgeoffrickly · 10 months

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i've eaten more the last few days which is just . a weird position to be in bc i simply haven't allowed myself to do that outside a hospital or program in like a decade w/o compensating. but i also feel bad letting go at all. i feel like i should feel worse. but then i eat the extra yogurt. woagh (negative) ((confused))

#e.txt #ed tw #eating disorder tw #not graphic

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varmillisus · 1 year

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You can’t see it but Hux is the one slurping on it

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #kylux #kylo ren #kylo ren fanart #smut #kylo ren smut #not graphic #18+ only

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noxcave · 3 days

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Holds out microphone:

What's it like being the coolest graphics maker for the RPC?

I AM,,,???

#not graphic #chounaifu

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arecaceae175 · 1 year

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Last one for now: eye of the storm

"We're not going to make it to land. We'll have to sail through," Wind said. His voice was clipped, and he was holding himself at his full height.

"Can we go to the eye of the storm?" Hyrule asked. Wind shook his head as he hurried around the boat, tossing ropes to each of the other heroes.

"No, that's the worst place to be. We've got to find the clean side of the storm," Wind said. He hopped onto a barrel and banged his sword on the metal.

"Listen up! We need to secure the deck. Hyrule, Legend, Twilight, get everything you can into the hold. I'll go behind and tie down the rest. Time, Sky, Wild, help me drop the sail. Wars and Four, check all the rigging and tell me if you find anything loose," Wind instructed.

"Aye aye, captain!"

#ace writes #three sentence prompt #linked universe #lu wind #lu hyrule #wind gets to be in charge <3 #spoiler alert: wind is the best sailor in all of existence and they make it safely through the storm #tw:#storm while on a boat #storm #not graphic #they're just preparing for it #another spoiler alert:#Legend is not having a good time #he's definitely going to have a panic attack once the storm hits #but he'll be safely below deck at that point

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oh-surprise-its-me · 7 months

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Hello there! I hope you are having a good day.

I'm not sure if I have come to the right place or if I am in any position to make a 'request', but there are a few plot promts I've been wondering about. (You don't have to accomodate any of them, naturally. I just thought I'd put them somewhere.)

So, they live on a farm, right? Speaking from experience, working and living with animals comes with a lot of beautiful moments but also heartbreak. To keep with a fluffier theme; how would the different members of that lovely family react to, say, a foal being born? Or, for the sake of balance, the heartbreak; how would they react if one of their animals was ill and suffering and the only choice would be to put them to sleep?

Another one on the fluffy side; coming of age often comes with bigger presents over here, so say when Jake turns 21 (or 18, depending on the law and country, I suppose) his dads come up with the idea of giving him a small plane, a Piper or Cessna or something, as a present. It could be an older model, and Chris, being mechanically inclined, could teach him how to fix it, and Tom and Ron (and Chris, of course) could go up with him, just as a shared experience. Perhaps even make family day trips with the aircraft.

(I fear this is getting way to long, so I'll stop here :) Love reading the works of all of you!)

OH MY GOD DARLING I LOVE THESE

Absolutely the right place! I’d bet that you’re welcome to ask Phanie (aki-draws-things) but I was the one that started this!

You’re always welcome to make requests about them, I will literally always be excited to talk about them!!

Okay going to split this up into two, I’ll tag the second part here!

Chris is so excited when they’re told there’s going to be a foal. Ron and Tom don’t quite have the same excitement that Chris does but they’re just happy Chris is happy.

Chris wakes up every morning and takes extra special care of Orange, he give her all the carrots and the pets she could ever want.

Tom isn’t too sure what to make of the tiny horse that follows Chris around like a puppy. He thinks it’s pretty cute. She’s a calm foal from what he knows. She doesn’t bite to hard.

Ron, he uh, he likes her? He’ll let her bonk her head into his leg, he’s just not too sure about her. Doesn’t seem right that something so small is going to be that big.

Once Jake is old enough he gets so excited for the babies of the year. He literally bounces around the house.

———

The first time they had to put an animal down it was a goat. He just wasn’t healing. The vet said cancer.

Chris cried. He couldn’t stop crying. He knew it’s what’s best for the goat. He always does what’s best for the animals.

Tom cried a little. He felt bad for the animal, made him think a bit too much about life.

Ron didn’t cry but he got close. He hated how badly Chris and Tom were taking this. He signs all the paperwork and does all of the details.

They try to shelter Jake from that as best as they can. They want him to be a kid. Not have to deal with it. He knows that sometimes it just has to happen though.

Jake gets rushed by a rooster one year and there’s no hesitation to get rid of the rooster. Jake was terrified.

#ron slider kerner #chris seresin #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #tom x ron x chris #ron x chris x tom #mentioned animal death #NOT GRAPHIC #young jake seresin #slider is jake's dad au #mac writes top gun

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