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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 days

Text

tense

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 2.5K

Warnings: Set after the movie; kid's tennis coach Patrick; single mom reader; fingering; oral sex ; vaginal sex; safe sex

Summary: You'd realized within a few meetings that Patrick wasn't exactly like a big kid—he was more like a frat boy that had never gone to college. He'd asked for an advance on his fee, but had agreed to an all-cash payment at the end of the first lesson. He palled around with your son, teased him about school, about the girls that he had a crush on. He didn't fill the role of a father where your son didn't have one, but he was more like an older, cooler schoolmate.

He was funny, he was knowledgeable, and he never missed an opportunity to flirt with you.

"You nail this kid's dick to the wall, I'll teach you that trick shot."

You know that the outward show of your disapproval for your eleven-year-old son's tennis coach's is necessary, but you're biting back a laugh, too. You know that it's the motivation that your son needs going into his final match, but there's gotta be a better way to say it, right?

Still, your son is nodding enthusiastically, and Patrick is turning to look at you. You tip your head to the side, purse your lips, and try not to crack a smile at the guilty, almost dopey smile that Patrick gives you, accompanied by a little shrug. You shake your head and reach for your coffee, using the sip to cover the smile you've been fighting.

Well, Patrick's methods have always been...A little unorthodox.

You'd been warned that he was a little different when you'd gotten his information. Your contact at the Mark Rebellato Academy had recommended him when your son hadn't qualified for a scholarship.

"He needs to get his game up," Your contact had said, "And Zweig's the one to do it. He'll write him a recommendation, too. He's a good guy, good coach. He's not on the level with the kids, but he can get there, you know. He's good with kids 'cause he kinda...Sometimes acts like a big kid."

You'd realized within a few meetings that Patrick wasn't exactly like a big kid—he was more like a frat boy that had never gone to college. He'd asked for an advance on his fee, but had agreed to an all-cash payment at the end of the first lesson. He palled around with your son, teased him about school, about the girls that he had a crush on. He didn't fill the role of a father where your son didn't have one, but he was more like an older, cooler schoolmate.

He was funny, he was knowledgeable, and he never missed an opportunity to flirt with you.

The first time, you'd figured that it was just his way of trying to secure his place as your son's coach, but after the fifth time, you got the sense that he was sort of just...Like that. Every hello and goodbye came with a less-than-subtle elevator gaze—a slow sweep up and down over your body before he gave you a little wave and sent you and your son on your way.

For as surprising as flirting had been, it wasn't totally unwelcome. Your dating life had basically been nonexistent since you'd had your son, and Patrick's advances were kinda...Flattering, even when you weren't completely sure that he meant them.

But the truth of it had been driven home when you'd been driving your son home from practice.

"Patrick asked about you."

"Oh?" You'd responded distractedly, figuring it would be something related—whether or not you'd ever played tennis, if you enjoyed it—but your son went on:

"He asked if you're single."

Your brain stalled for a moment, not fully taking it in as you pulled the car into your driveway.

"...He what?" You finally asked, twisting to look at him.

"Uh-huh. And if you date."

"What'd you say?"

"I dunno. That you're busy."

It was a fair answer, and the truth, but there shouldn't have been a world in which your son was getting that question in the first place. You stewed on it for a few hours before you ultimately called Patrick. You eyed your son a room away where he was doing his homework, listening to the brrrrr....brrrrr as you waited for Patrick to pick up.

"Hey—"

"What the hell are you doing, asking my son if I'm single?"

Patrick doesn't answer for a moment, and it gives you a chance to imagine where he must be, what he must be doing. You can hear the murmur of a tv in the background. Is he in a house, an apartment? Alone, or with someone that's trying to pin him down? You can imagine the cracked screen of his phone pressed up against his beard.

"...It just came up."

"How the hell did something like that just come up?"

"I asked him if he ever practiced with his dad."

Your hand flexes around your phone, irritation rising.

"We don't have contact with his father."

"Yeah, I uh. I got that."

"What's that have to do with me dating?"

"That was just pure curiosity."

You close your eyes, trying to quell your annoyance.

"Well if you have a question about that sort of thing, you ask me, not my son."

"Okay."

"Do not cross that line again, Zweig."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"I won't."

"I'm serious—"

"I am, too. I won't ask him about that stuff."

"Good."

"So when's the last time you got fucked?"

Your jaw dropped, face going hot as you tried to parse where the hell this man got the audacity to ask you that kind of thing.

"Excuse me?"

"Thought it seemed like a pretty straightforward question."

"It's a stupid one."

"...Yeah, you're right."

It should end there, but before you can wrap the conversation up, he adds—"It's pretty clear that you haven't gotten any in a while."

"Is it."

"Very obvious, yeah. You're really tense."

"This is just how I am naturally."

"I doubt that."

"Doubt all you want, but you're wrong."

"I don't mind. It's kinda hot," He adds, "You've got that grumpy milf thing goin' on."

Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before you managed, "Okay, I—I am hanging up on you now."

"Sure. Think'a me when you're rubbing one out later."

You hang up without another word, your face hot with embarrassment. You take in a deep breath, dampening the appeal of the curse words that bubble up in your throat. You're fine. You're not worked up. Patrick Zweig did not get to you.

But despite your best efforts, you did, in fact, think of him as you rubbed one out.

His flirting hasn't lessened since then. If anything, it's become more overt. Patrick never says anything untoward when your son is around, but he teases you when the two of you are waiting for your son to get his things together, or over text between lessons. You never take it too seriously. You're sure he's coaching other kids, flirting with their moms just as much. Part of his personality, part of his business model—whatever it is, it's pure Patrick, so you don't begrudge him.

You look at Patrick again as he sits beside you in the stands.

"Nail his dick to the wall?" You repeat.

"With points. Obviously."

"Right."

"You look unconvinced."

"I just don't think that that's necessarily the right way to motivate my son."

"Really?"

"Really."

"...Huh."

You try to ignore his mock curiosity as he leans back in his seat, propping his elbows up on the chairs behind you. When your son serves, hitting a solid ace, and crowing in excitement as the ref declares the point his, you feel Patrick preening beside you, and feel his arm curl around the back of your chair. You can't even bring yourself to be truly annoyed, but you make a point of sighing anyway.

"What were you saying?"

"Can it, Zweig."

"So a trick shot isn't a way to motivate him, but this is?" Patrick waves his arm toward the array of flashing, screeching games, the children zipping back and forth, their pockets bursting with tokens and prize tickets.

"I promised him a month ago that if he won his tournament, he could pick two friends and come to Chuck E. Cheese. I just..." You trail off, "I didn't think that...He'd be pick you as one of the friends."

"Am I not his friend? I'm wounded."

"You are—Kinda, I just mean that I figured he'd pick two of his friends from school. You know, kids his own age?"

"Ah," Patrick nods. "Well, I'm flattered."

"I'm sure."

"...I am."

You hesitate before you turn to look at Patrick, and are stunned to find a small, sincere smile on his lips. You can't help but smile a bit, too.

"He appreciates you," You admit. "Your guidance, you know. You've totally changed his game."

"Eh," Patrick looks around. "He would've gotten there without me."

"Not on his own."

"...Not without you, either," Patrick meets your eye again. And while you're certain that everything else he's ever said about you has been a joke, you can tell that he means this. But you can't help but deflect:

"Yeah, well. I'm his mom. There are most places he can't get without me. School, for example."

Patrick huffs a soft laugh, and you smile—really smile. You see something in Patrick's eyes that you haven't seen before, something warm and wanting. You don't let yourself read too much into it as you turn to look around the Chuck E. Cheese again—but before you know it, Patrick is scooching closer, curling his arm around the back of your chair.

"So," He presses his thigh against yours, and you try not to think about the hard, steady muscle, "You still haven't gotten any, huh?"

You bite the inside of your cheek as you fold your arms across your chest.

"Do you have any idea how inappropriate that question is?"

"I know exactly how inappropriate it is."

"And how uncalled for?"

"I think it's very called for."

"Really."

"Very."

"I can't say I agree with you."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not asking you to agree, I'm just asking you to answer."

"You seem to think you know the answer."

"I dare you to tell me I'm wrong." You feel his breath brush against your jaw as he leans closer, lowers his voice to a husky murmur: "And even if I am somehow wrong, whoever it was did not do it right."

"The hell makes you say that?"

"You're still tense."

"I'm always tense. I'm naturally tense."

"I still don't believe that."

"I don't care what you think, and you know what else?"

"What."

"I don't think you could make me cum." You make the mistake of looking at Patrick when you say it. You hope that you've wounded him, but his knowing smile just widens.

"Really."

You can hear his slick smugness, and you know that he doesn't believe you at all. But you force yourself to hold his gaze, nodding.

"Really."

He pouts just a little, nodding.

"I think we should test that hypothesis. Make sure you really are just that tense."

"Even if I did agree to that, I don't exactly have a ton of time.

"What about when he's at school?"

"I have a job."

"Right."

"Mhm. It 's how I'm able to pay you for the lessons?"

"That makes sense. I'll work something out."

"Will you."

"Sure."

"I'd like to see you try."

Patrick grins, leaning back in his seat again.

"You're gonna like a lot more than that."

When you get the text, you realize that he must know that you're not—that your son must have told him about his friend's birthday party, that you'd have a free afternoon. You're tempted to tell him that you're occupied—that you have a date, that you've found someone else to fuck you.

But as you stare down at Patrick's text—Busy?—you can't help but lean into your curiosity.

It's supposed to be different from this. It's supposed to be awkward, and weird, and not nearly as good, but you can't help it. Your thighs are tense; your fingers are curled in the sheets; your arms are shaking as you hold yourself up, pushing back against Patrick's cock. He groans against your shoulder, his arm hooked around your middle as he fucks you from behind.

His breath pushes hotly against your shoulder, a groan pushing between his lips with each thrust. His hand slides up to grasp your breast, squeezing and teasing in a way that makes you shiver.

Goddamn, but it shouldn't be so good. He shouldn't have been able to make you cum on his tongue and fingers with that dopey grin on his face. He shouldn't have covered your body in kisses in a way that made you feel cherished and wanted and special in a way that you haven't felt in a long time. And now, he shouldn't be able to make you want to press back, to chase down the stretch of his cock as he picks up his pace.

You reach back, grasping his thick curls as he nuzzles against your neck, chasing the scrape his beard with a soothing, slick kiss.

"Patrick," You breathe, "Fuck, I—Oh, God."

"Cum for me again," He urges, sliding his hand down to toy with your tingling clit. "Fuck, tighten up on me, baby—Fuck, that's it, that's it—"

You cry out as you cum, hips rabbiting back against his as your orgasm swells. Patrick groans, pulling out as you're still cumming. He crawls up over you, yanking off the condom and jacking his cock over your parted lips. You lean up, taking the head of his cock in and swirling your tongue. The first spurt of his cum catches you off-guard as much as the feeling of his cock pressing more deeply into your mouth as he thrusts. You draw back just enough to let go of his cock, jerking it as his cum sprays across your neck and shoulder.

Patrick finally lowers himself to lay beside you, panting as the two of you settle. You glance over, taking in his hairy chest, his muscled physique. You watch the rise and fall of his chest as he calms his breathing, and feel his hand smoothing over your thigh. You smile a little bit at the feeling, giving his hand a pat before you push yourself off of the bed to go to the bathroom and grab a washcloth. You rinse your mouth out while you're able, cleaning his cum off of your skin before returning to the bedroom, passing the washcloth to Patrick. He mutters his thanks, wiping himself down beside he tosses it away.

"C'mere," He urges.

You climb back into bed with a narrowed, speculative gaze as Patrick takes your hand, drawing you closer.

"Hey," He laughs, "What's that face for?"

"Nothing."

"You still tense?"

"Told you I would be."

"I think you're faking it. And that better be all you're faking."

"What if it isn't?"

"Oh, it is."

"How can you know that?"

"I know." He doesn't let you keep your distance long, curling his arms around your middle and drawing you into his lap. You wobble a little, tucking your legs beneath yourself and steadying your hands on his shoulders. Patrick's hands slip down to cup your ass, giving it a playful squeeze and grinning when you smile. Patrick tips his head up, dotting your neck with kisses as you tip your head to the side, giving him a bit more room.

"What time's the party over?" He mumbles against your skin.

"Of all things, he didn't tell you that?"

"Said you might let him sleep over at his friend's place, but you hadn't decided yet."

You smile, nodding.

"I did tell him that."

"What'd you decide?"

"...He can sleep over."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Can I sleep over?"

"You gonna be on your best behavior?"

Patrick leans back, grinning up at you.

"Not a chance."

#Patrick Zweig x Reader #Patrick Zweig x You #Patrick Zweig/Reader #Patrick Zweig/You #Patrick Zweig fic #Patrick Zweig imagine

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unholyhelbig · 2 days

Note

“You’re supposed to be dead.” was so strong felt like you hit me with that sentence I even forgot the title can’t wait for next part!!!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 3/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 4,695

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Sorry for the delay on this one. I promise I'll hit you guys with less tragic backstory and more plot soon! ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The word sounded foreign to you. Asgardian. The first syllable was doable, the start of something and the end of something in one fail swoop. It was the second syllable that threw you off. Guardian. That wasn’t something you had ever been, nor did you want to be. The two women that frequented your holding cell, now they were guardians.

You were never one of those superhero junkies. Not like the rest of the world. They were infatuated with the Avengers and even more so with the media coverage of them. The main six would do their due diligence and go in for interviews, the occasional ribbon cutting on new Children’s Hospitals.

It was the C and D list heroes that gave you the ultimate ‘ick’. There were reality television shows that highlighted their daily lives and social media accounts that reported on their flings and lack thereof. Of course, they’d home in on the Avengers too, but they circled like vultures, and it was the main reason you had seen the phrase ‘Asgardian’ in the first place.

Thors Summer Body.

Jesus Christ, they called it the Asgardian Abdominal Workout and you had scoffed at the stupid title and graphics on Instagram while you wiped the neon orange Cheeto dust from your fingers onto the front of your shirt.

You didn’t know what they meant for you, but you paced the length of your holding cell while you thought about it. It was day three and you were getting stir crazy. So much so, that when Natasha entered with your lunch for the day, you threw yourself against the glass.

Both of her eyebrows went sky high, grip tightening on the plastic tray. “Whoa, okay. Good afternoon to you too, Kitten.”

“Why do you do that?” You asked.

“Do what?”

“Act like you’re not intrigued by me.”

She was the only one who hadn’t resulted to the poking and prodding, and endless tests that had been run on you. Of course, Wanda was more likely to stick around for a conversation. She’d spend hours with you, just talking, staring at you while you slept. Your mind had chosen to be a challenge, and that excited her. It was more of an emotion than you pulled from her wife.

Natasha let out a sigh and clicked her way through the passcode. You had half the mind to shove past her, just to get out of this stale air. But, she was the Black Widow, and you knew your odds were slim. So, you stayed put, backing away to give her enough room.

She usually placed the tray on the table and then retreated with less than five words to you. But this time, she closed the door and turned towards you, arms crossed over her chest. The pure strength of her physic intrigued you, made a rosy color bloom against your cheeks.

“I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t.” She sounded out carefully. “Do you know Hawkeye?”

You nodded. He was the guy with the arrows, the only other person on the Avengers that had molded their skills instead of inheriting them. Jenn spoke fondly of him, had helped with a case a few years back that you couldn’t recall. You had been struck by the stomach flu and remember being particularly miffed that you hadn’t gotten to meet him.

“So did Loki. Briefly. He was the first big threat that we encountered as a team and he wormed his way into Clint’s mind, changed him because Clint was mortal, and Loki was a different kind of God. A trickster, and an Asgardian.”

“You’re… afraid of me?”

Natasha laughed and if you hadn’t been so wounded by the noise, you would have found it pleasurable. She closed the distance between you both. She smelled soft, floral. It was different from Wanda and from the nurse who had been in and out, growing bolder the more she worked on you.

“No, sweetie. But don’t be so offended, little intimidates me. I know that like our world, you come from one of your own. One with good guys and bad guys. I just hope that you know which side of the line you fall on.”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t even know who you were, much less if there was some malice deep down in your core. Right now, all you were was restless. While you were a homebody that usually extended to shitty television and greasy snacks. Neither of which was offered here.

Wanda brought you a novel to read, but it was in old English and hurt your head to squint at the words on the yellowed pages. You’d only gotten a quarter of the way through. The rest of your time was spent getting jammed with needles and staring at the blank ceiling.

“Hungry?” Natasha asked.

“Not particularly.”

“Alright then, come on.”

You blinked dumbly at her, narrowing your eyes. This could be some form of sadistic trap, but really, what did you have to lose? You were cooperative thus far. No matter where she led you, it would be better than here.

The floor was startling and cold against your bare feet, your jaw clenching in response to the change that hit your skin. Natasha watched you carefully, two steps in front of you but still with a keen eye.

The two of you took enough turns that you wouldn’t be able to find your way out of the compound, much less back to your holding cell, without her. The walls all looked the same, steel lock protected doors lining either side of the corridors. There were no discerning stock photos to spruce up the place, not even windows. If you knew any better, you would say that you were underground.

The elevator was warmer. Natasha used the keycard on her waist to operate it. You stared down at your feet. They were bruised from your excursion through the cemetery. Your hand reached out to the side of the elevator when it lurched forward, throwing you off your balance.

Natasha reached over and grasped your elbow, keeping you steady. Her warmth was domineering, running through you like a heated iron rod. You decided to change the subject for your own self-preservation. “What are we doing exactly? Because if you’re leading me to my demise, then you owe me a replacement lunch, first.”

She scoffed “Is food all you think about? From what I remember you were wolfing down week-old takeout when we met.”

“It’s not all I think about,”

At least, it didn’t used to be. Lately, you were starving at all times, thinking of your next meal directly after you’d finished your first. It was almost as if you were burning off more calories than you could consume. At first, you figured it was your body’s way to catch up after being buried alive- buried dead- but it persisted.

“uh-huh, you know my wife reads minds, right? Seems like all you think about is food and sex.”

“That’s not, I don’t-“Your cheeks heated up and you covered your face with both of your hands. God, this elevator ride was too long. You would be perfectly content digging another grave and laying in it.

“Relax. I’m teasing you.” She nudged you with her shoulder. “You and me, though, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together these next few days. Fury wants us to run more tests that don’t involve needles and EKG’s. That okay with you, kitten?”

You nodded, tongue officially tied. Each time she called you that, you felt arousal pool in your stomach that was quickly ebbed away by guilt. There was no way that you would allow yourself to be taken by the Black Widow. It was her job to be alluring.

And then there was her wife, the woman that you were equally infatuated with. She had a warmth that emanated from her, but a coldness that could wash over her in an instant. It scared you. It turned you on.

Not only could she hear your less than pure thoughts about Natasha, but she wasn’t shy about letting you know she could. The corner of her lip would quirk up, almost as if she wanted to tease you about the fact and not reprimand you.

The elevator doors opened directly into an atrium that was complete with lush green grass. You flinched, holding your arm in front of you to block out the sudden burst of sun. You’d been imprisoned for the past couple of days, and before that, you were in a different type of prison.

You took a deep breath of the clean air, letting it coat your lungs. Your skin instantly warmed. Natasha didn’t’ push you, instead she let you take in the square building around you. There were tinted windows that jutted out in a hexagon shape from the structure, long hallways that lead to move testing areas, living quarters, you were sure.

“I know you haven’t worked your muscles in a bit, but I have some obstacles for you, if you’re up to the challenge, that is.”

“You kidding? I aced gym. Bring it on.”

Natasha’s wolfish smile did nothing to aide your confidence. She led you into the center of the green and squared her shoulders. You didn’t see any equipment around: no vaulting bars, or weights. It was just the two of you and the nature that surrounded. It was only when she lifted up her hands, curling them into fists, that you truly understood.

The Black Widow wanted you to fight her.

There wasn’t much time to contemplate. She moved like lightening, and though you knew she was going easy on you, the crack against the center of your nose didn’t feel like it. You let out a groan, moving both your hands to your face as warmth gushed from the center.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck!”

“You’re supposed to dodge.”

“You’re supposed to warn me.” You pressed your hands harder against the dripping wound “Oh, I’m going to die.”

Natasha scoffed and let her hands drop from their defensive position. She closed the distance between you and gripped your arm. You refused to budge, making a small noise at the back of your throat. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Move your hand, let me look at it.”

You leveled her with an apprehensive look but eventually conceded. Watery rust was against your palms, wicked into your lifeline that seemed oddly to stretch on for way too long. It had already dried, you were almost hyper-fixated on the blood. On it’s stain.

Natasha was impossibly close, you could feel her exhaling against your collarbone, her hand squeezing your face and pushing your head to the side to get a better look. Her eyebrows creased. You focused on the smattering of freckles against her nose and under her piercing eyes. You hadn’t noticed them in the fluorescents of the facility.

“Mm, well, you can heal on your own. Just like Thor.” She gave your cheek two pats and stepped back. “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ,”

Natasha resumed her stance and you held your hand up as if taming a wild animal. As if that would stop her from advancing on you. From this view, you could see the blood that had slotted through your fingers and ran in interconnecting lines. It was almost like a system of roads, each leading to your wrist and drying in a strange pattern. Beautiful. Familiar.

Your hand was tingling viciously and the world around you had started to pulse. You steadied yourself, focused on the grass under your toes. The soil was damp and cold. The sun was hot and harsh. You knew exactly where you were, but the rushing sound past your ears seemed to want to change that.

“Y/n,” You heard Natasha softly. She sounded like she was suspended in air, or you in water. “Y/n, are you alright?”

1893, Chicago World’s Fair

“Miss, are you alright?” His voice filtered through your thoughts. It was smooth and amplified compared to the crowd that flitted around you. Bodies were slotted close together, different scents of spices and crushed florals mixed with the sweat of strangers.

“Yes, of course,” You assured him, seeing the worry drain from his stare. He held his prize in one palm, hard enough to morph the copper back into its original shape. “My apologies. I suppose the heat is getting to me. Please continue, Mr. Damm.”

He gave you a crooked grin. You’d stopped at his booth out of a version of pity. In truth, your eyes had locked with his across the crowded exhibition floor and you couldn’t pull yourself away. He looked like a nice enough man, standing next to a small box that was made of wood.

Glass was bordering the top half, giving the viewer a good look at the inside mechanics. There was a crank that jutted out of the side and a small slot that was in the center of the wooden base. In a room filled with ships, locomotives, and a real moving walkaway, not many people took interest in a simple party trick.

“Have you ever put a penny on a train track, miss?”

“Yes, of course.”

He grinned harder “Well, that’s a good way to lose a limb, if I do say so myself. Now, I have all ten fingers and all ten toes but there are plenty out there who are risking their lives for something that you can now get with convenience. Do you have a penny, miss?”

With heat rising to your cheeks, you fished into the damp area between your breasts and pulled out a coin, making sure it was dry. You couldn’t hide it’s warmth, but the dress you’d chosen to wear on your mothers’ recommendation was much too tight fitting to carry anything in a proper place.

Mr. Damm did not seem to mind, he simply placed the penny into a small slot on the side of the machine. “I’ve spent years crafting a rolling mill that presses designs into soft metals. Not only that, but it elongates them as well. A penny had tremendous value, but wouldn’t you sometimes prefer something more?”

“I suppose I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Ah, well, come here. Crank this lever and watch.”

You glanced at him for reassurance before doing as you were told. It put up more resistance than you were expecting, but eventually you watched two metal rollers press the copper into a longer, oblong shape. You had to admit, it was a cool sight, especially with your ability to control the speed.

Eventually, your coin popped out of the slot in the wood and it looked like anything but the penny you had provided. It was stretched and the words ‘Columbian 1893 exhibition’ were impressed into the metal. He placed it into your palm, still warm from the process.

“Very good, Mr. Damm. But, does it still hold it’s value?”

“Of course, Miss! First thing I made sure of. Though, I suggest you keep this. One day, they’ll be worth millions.” He tucked his thumbs proudly into his suspenders “I’m headed to New York City in a few days to patten this machine, here.”

You returned his smile, words caught in your throat when a hand started against one side of your waist and trailed along your back to rest on the other. The rosewater scent that accompanied Helia. She was a few inches taller than you and hugged you close to her pale form.

There were dark circles under her sunken eyes, her hair a jet black. She often captured the eyes of anyone in the room. But in a room with so many wonders it was hard to notice her among them. People often thought of her as sick. But you knew better. Helia simply mirrored a specter. She was filled with a sharp kindness that was preceded by her excitement.

“Sister, what have you got there?” She plucked the coin from your hand and ran her pale finger over it “Very nice! This is fantastic, sir. Really amazing. I hope you don’t mind if I steal y/n away from you.”

“Not at all,” Mr. Damm gently took your hand and placed a dry kiss on the top of your hand. “It was fantastic to meet you, miss. Enjoy the fair.”

Helia had pulled you away by the waist before you could respond. You wiped the top of your hand against the rough fabric of your dress, suppressing a chill. He was nice enough, an average looking guy. Deep down you knew your mother only let you attend to see if you could attract some type of man.

She’d long ago deemed you feral, her wild-child that held the beauty but none of the grace to settle down with an acceptable husband. You wore Helia’s dress because she would have left you to rot in the hot motel room if you hadn’t at least attempted to look presentable.

“Mother is going to be so upset with you,” You tsked, “pulling me away from a possible suitor.”

“Oh, the inhumanity. We have to hurry. Jorell has been holding the same spot in line for the Ferris Wheel. We simply must join him. I don’t have the patience to wait another day.”

“At least you are one to admit your flaws.”

“Hush, walk faster.”

You felt incredibly stiff in the dress but followed her a quicker pace. Your brother had sacrificed his entire day to make sure the three of you could rise high above the fair. You’d long given up on your own ability to stand in a stretching line and you’d had to keep him waiting even longer.

A light drizzle had begun to fall from wispy grey clouds, instantly cool on your skin. Helia hugged you closer, silently pleading for the ride to still be operational. There was no electricity crackling through the sky, nor a worried look on a single patron’s face.

Jorell waved the two of you over, boots splashing against the cobblestone. His hair was damn, inky and falling into his ghostly stare. His shirt was soaked through at this point, the white outlining the curves and dips of his stature. The strong, protective man that had yet to find a suitor either. Though, mother was much less persistent when it came to her only son.

“Where did you find her?” He smirked.

“Playing with coins.”

“I wasn’t playing with anything. If you must know, a very nice man was giving me a demonstration of his invention.”

Helia nudged him in the ribs, “She took pity on him, like she does all helpless creatures.”

You suppressed a groan. Certainly, you were deemed to softest of the three siblings, though you knew when it was necessary to put a thing out of it’s misery. You’d bring home stray cats and then make excuses for the parasites that were attached to it.

“Come on, we’re next!”

Helia grabbed your hand and gave it an excited squeeze. There were two metal steps leading up to the boarding area. A man stood next to a gally of machinery, and unlike Mr. Damm’s penny pressing box, you couldn’t see inside of it. He held a black umbrella up to protect the panel from the weather.

He grunted out “No single riders, only two to a car. One of you will have to sit this out.”

It would be fair to let Jorrell and Helia take the helm. You weren’t much of a fan of heights anyway, and the diming in your sisters’ eyes at the news was enough to break you. “You two go on ahead.”

“You’re sure?” Jorell asked, lifting a dark eyebrow.

“I’m positive, go! I’ll be waiting right here.”

Maybe you did take too much pity on the beasts around you. They certainly stuttered to find kindness, as did you in moments. But at the base of the worlds first Ferris Wheel you would have done any kindness for the strangers that flitted around you. Especially for your own family.

You watched as they boarded the cart closest to the bottom, the last riders until a chain was slipped across the front, blocking the rest of the patrons. Bad weather. You heard the man mutter, but paid no mind. He certainly wouldn’t let them ride if the conditions were too dangerous.

They grew smaller and smaller as the monolithic machine carried them to the very top of the loop. You craned your neck, having to look away as harder rain blurred your view. It was unladylike to wipe at your eyes, but you hadn’t given a care. Unladylike or not, you’d give anything to see Helia and Jorrell in this moment. Joy swelled in your chest.

Then, the Ferris Wheel lurched to a stop. Strangled cries of shock floated down to you. This must be part of the exhibition. It was a naïve thought, but one that carried you for a moment more of bliss before pure terror. The next noise was grinding metal against metal, shaking that jostled many of the riders.

The speck of Jorrell had slid from his seat, the metal much too slippery from the rain. He held on to the edge, the crowd letting out sounds of distress. One woman screamed. You felt damp and useless, hand covering your mouth.

Helia gripped at the fabric of his shirt desperately trying to keep him afloat. And you believed whole-heartedly, that if the machine hadn’t lurched again, she would have been able to maintain her grip.

New inventions were faulty. They malfunctioned in different conditions. The rain had not been anticipated and neither had the harsh winds that made Chicago damp and freezing. Another sound of metal crunching and a scream that was masked within a sea of people already beginning to plan how to cope with tragedy.

You may have screamed to, but you had a feeling the noise got stuck in your throat. Jorrell had tried to grip the bars on the way down. They bit into his fingers, water making it impossible for him to swim.

He was crushed in an instant between the gears that you could see, and this time, you did cry out. You figured your legs unable to work, knees nearly hitting the cobblestone. In that moment, you thought about how it would dirty your dress.

An arm was there to steady you, grasping onto your elbow and pulling your eyes away from the scene. You were pliable in this moment, unable to question who had grabbed you. There was the scent of metal and strong cologne. They emanated comfort, tucking your head into the small of their neck to pry your eyes away from the mechanical mauling.

“Look away,” Mr. Damms voice was muffled against your ear, filling his chest cavity. “This isn’t something a lady should see, miss.”

The scream tore through your chest with a visceral pain. Your nails were digging into the soft soil, heels pushing against what you could only recognize as grass. You’d come to in a state of fight or flight. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, breath refusing to catch.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.”

It took you a moment to realize who was in front of you. The world was dripping with color, the rushing sensation fading from your ears. Instead, it was replaced by the sound of birds, the scent of nature, the warmth of the sun. You were still outside, lying on the ground and blinking up at the crystal blue sky. No rain. No water.

Natasha was knelt next to you, a look of worry flooding her expression. She had one hand on your chest, and the other was cupping your cheek. She was checking your vitals, you were sure, because you had most certainly lost consciousness.

“Breathe in for six seconds through your nose. Good… now hold it. Only breathe out through your mouth when I tell you to.”

Your chest had started to ache when she finally gave you the nod to release the air you had greedily drawn in. She stayed with you, repeating the process three more times before you finally felt the blades of grass tickle your palms, the slight breeze touch your skin. Natasha brushed a strand of sweat-soaked hair behind your ear before she flopped back into a sitting position.

“Want to tell me where you just went?”

“Chicago,” You grunted out.

Natasha got this adorable crease between her brows, but she didn’t’ push any further. You squinted up at the clouds and stretched your arm out, enjoying the prickly sensation of the grass.

“Sometimes… I get these nightmares. Most of the time I don’t remember my dreams but when these happen, they feel so real. Almost like I was there myself, which is impossible because they were decades, centuries ago.”

“What are they like? Your dreams?”

“Volatile. They all follow the same formula. A life that I couldn’t have had, an older brother who dies by water and a younger sister who just… dies. One of them meet a violent end before I can wake up, and they’ve never repeated themselves. It’s just new tragedy after new tragedy.”

You’d always thought the dreams were weird. But, chalked them up to being related to stress. When you were a kid, it was stress about starting a new school, soccer try-outs or midterms. Then as you got older you pinned it on college admissions and failing the bar twice before submitting to be a paralegal instead.

But then, Jonathan died. Drowning just as every other version of him had.

You’d never told anyone about the dreams and now you were sounding them out with a near-stranger who you were pretty sure used to be a villain. You’d read that on the back of a cereal box once while it tore up the roof of your mouth with its sugary edges. You didn’t’ put much faith in the trivia.

“That must be scary,”

You pulled yourself up, resting your arms on your knees. You were sure you looked disheveled, but she gazed at you with something of admiration and a recognition of pain. She’d pulled a blade of grass from the earth and was shredding it in a nervous habit.

“Chicago, huh?”

“The Worlds Fair, actually. I got a penny.”

“Oh?” She gave you a small smile “My, well, aren’t you rich.”

The two of you laughed, a small moment that filled you with content. It seemed to fill the crater that had just opened up in your soul. If it even was your soul to fill. It eventually flickered out, silence washing over you.

“Natasha?”

“Yeah, y/n?”

“Are you going to figure out what’s wrong with me?”

Your voice broke and you were tempted to muffle it with a cough. You didn’t’ want to show weakness. It was a golden rule in your family. The embarrassment of your actions in the dream still lingered on your tongue. Falling into the arms of Mr. Damm and his listless invention.

“Why can’t I die if everyone around me dies too easily?”

You all but whispered the words, and a soft, pitying noise came out of Natasha that you weren’t expecting. She clenched her jaw and unclenched it as if she was afraid to mince her words. There was almost anger, no, frustration, with herself behind her stare.

“Nothing is wrong with you, y/n. According to your bloodwork, you’re extraordinary. Growing stronger and stronger every day. You’re an enigma, even by Asgardian standards. But you’re not impossible to solve. We’ll figure you out.” She glanced down at the grass between her fingers, shredded another green strip. “No one deserves to live with that much pain.”

With a nod, you wiped away the tears that escaped with the base of your palms, careful to avoid looking at the blood. You’d never passed out like that, had a vision, a memory, forced upon you with the pull of a trigger. You didn’t want to risk it.

“Let’s get you a shower, yeah?” She stood and reached out her arm before hoisting you to your feet.

“Are you saying I stink?”

“I thought I was being very direct about the fact. Besides, I may have hit you a little hard, kitten.”

“I knew it!”

She grabbed you by the hand and pulled you along, as if she didn’t trust you on your own feet. Her grip was reminiscent of Helias, strong and consistent and filled with nothing but care. You let her lead you, hoping the blood wasn’t the only thing the shower would wash down the drain.

[Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato, @aliherreraaa, @olicity-boo, @tarathia, @thinking1bee]

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figofswords · 2 days

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sometimes people ask me like “why do you know about so many things” and I’m like well 😏😎 I’m a hashtag smart cookie tm but the real reason is sometimes I go to look something up and end up reading through the entire wikipedia page on porridge and the list of different types of porridge around the world and also the pages for almost every individual entry on that page. hey isn’t it crazy how in fantasy or historical fiction books when they talk about porridge or gruel it’s like this shitty unappealing thing but “porridge” is just stewed grains/legumes/other starchy meal and “gruel” is just a looser/thinner porridge. horchata is gruel. congee/juk/okayu is gruel. if you like your oatmeal or corngrits kinda watery that’s gruel. if you add enough other ingredients, that’s a stew. I understand gruel and porridge gained a negative connotation as a poor man’s food because it’s a way to make low cost ingredients into a meal but also cmon. rice pudding is one of the best foods ever invented. oatmeal is filling and tasty and so customizable. the southeast usa has taken grits and elevated them into a culinary work of art with the addition of cheese and shrimp. move over medieval peasants I am SHOVELING warm stewed grains into my mouth. what was I talking about again

#I was looking at stuff at the small European grocery and I saw instant greißbrei and went what’s that? SEMOLINA PORRIDGE #YOU CAN MAKE SEMOLINA INTO A PORRIDGE???? HOLD ON and now we’re here

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days

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I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I personally prefer 🤡

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lnlightning81 · 7 hours

Text

He Won! - Bonus Part

Series : Younger Sister

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader

Summary : Lando's finally won his first ever Grand Prix

Word Count: 0.8k A/N: Can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the Younger Sister series. It's entirely up to you!

Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Younger Sister Masterlist

Following Lando around the world had become the normal, now more comfortable with the paddock and the cameras. You weren’t as anxious as you were when you first started following Lando around the world. Now, just under a year later from when you started following Lando around and started dating Ollie, you were in Miami.

You had convinced Ollie to come into the Mclaren garage with you because Lando had a feeling something extraordinary was going to happen today. So Ollie was now standing in the back of the Mclaren garage with you.

The safety car was soon drawn out, and Lando pitted under it now in P1. Jumping up and down in your spot, Ollie had his hands rested on your hips, trying to calm you down. Your hyperness is just as crazy as he’s used to, if not more than he’s used to

“He’s P1 Ollie. P1” You cheered as he chuckled, pulling you into his body as a couple of mechanics laughed at your excitement. Obviously, Lando had led many Grand Prix’s but the gap between him and Max was just getting bigger.

You had expected Max to pass Lando within a couple of laps, but now Lando was ten laps away from the chequered flag with a six second gap between him and Max that just kept increasing.

“Darling. Darling. You need to calm down or you’re not going to be able to celebrate” Ollie chuckled pulling you closer to him to keep you standing up knowing that if you continued to jump about the place and get too excited by the time Lando was to cross the finish line you’d be on the floor with numb legs.

As Lando got closer to the chequered flag, you grabbed Ollie’s hand, squeezing it as tightly as you can, the nerves running through your body looking up at Ollie, who had a smile on his face watching you.

“That’s it let your energy out that way” He hummed, pushing your hair out of your face as your head rested upon his shoulder being unable to look at the screen scared that Max was going to overtake in the last minute and Lando was going to end up in second.

“Come on, love. Look at the screen. He’s gonna finish first” He whispered in your ear, and you lifted your head a little to look at the screen. Your head was still on his shoulder as you kept squeezing his hand as Lando passed the chequered flag first.

Letting go of Ollie, you jumped around the garage as Jon walked over with a massive smile on his face

“Come on then, Miss Hyper!” He chuckled as you bounced over to him. Jon led you down to the end of the pitlane where the rest of Mclaren was standing watching. Gently pushing you to the front of the barriers so that you could hug Lando. He stood behind you to ensure that you wouldn’t get hurt.

Lando ran over to the Mclaren group, launching himself into their arms before they lifted him up to crowd surf. He’d always wanted to try that, so he said. When he was placed back on the floor, Zak and Andrea pulled him into hugs before his eyes started searching around the pitlane.

Running over when he spotted you, he pulled you over the barrier to hug you tightly. His hug knocked the oxygen out of your lungs from the grip he had on your body

“I’m so proud of you Lan” You smiled as you bounced, causing him to laugh. The smile on his face still is not leaving.

“I can’t believe it. I need someone to pinch me or something” He joked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder so you couldn’t walk back to Jon and had to follow him

“I’ll slap you if you want” you joked as George came up to Lando congratulating him, then Daniel. Picking up Lando’s helmet for him, you waited for him to finish his conversations. Zak resting a hand on your shoulder, you look up at him

“Why don’t you go with him? He’s clearly not letting go of your shoulder anytime soon” He joked, and you nodded

“Is that allowed? I thought Andrea was going for the constructors trophy?” You asked, and he nodded

“He is, but you can stand behind the stage if you want” You smiled with a nod

“Thanks Zac” Lando pulled you through the pit lanes and sat you in one of the little buggies, taking him to the podium. Still basically jumping with excitement, you only just took the time to look at your phone.

Congratulations, texts from everyone you could think of, including some people you didn’t want to think of ever again. But your mum, dad, and siblings as well as close friends of yours both tell you to pass the messages onto Lando so that he doesn’t have to wait to hear how proud they are of him.

That’s when you realised that you were more than happy following Lando around the world and whatever doubt you had disappeared watching the smile on Lando’s face just grow bigger every time someone congratulated him, handed him the trophy or even just said hello.

Tag List

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disregardcanon · 2 days

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this probably seems like a weird question from your end,but why do fanfic writers care so much about comments? aos already tracks hits and likes, sorry ""kudos"", so why are comments such a big deal to the point that people will stop writing?

okay, so i'm going to take this question very seriously and i promise it's not to make you feel bad. this is a comprehensive explanation of reasons that comments are important for me, both as a writer and as a reader

engagement vs numbers game

seeing trends

buy-in

community building

engagement vs numbers game

let's look quickly at two different fics of mine. this is the kudos count for a fic called Of First Kisses and Burnt Lips

it's old. it's been up on ao3 for almost 11 years now. 258 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, 12 people liked it enough for a bookmark, and it's been clicked on 3,859 times.

i have no clue what almost any of these people on ao3 THINK about it. beyond "huh. sure. i'll kudos that". compare this to its crosspost on ffn, where i got 5 reviews

3/5 mention it being cute. 3/5 give appreciation to me for taking the time to write it. 2/5 praise the writing itself from the attention to detail with grammar to the craft. 1/5 is an "um..." which is hard to decipher but appreciate and 1/5 is a silly reaction, but it's a reaction! look, someone felt a felling reading my thing! that made me giggle!

looking at the stats here from a purely numbers perspective, my fic DID better on ao3. it got a lot more kudos than it ever got faves or reviews on ffn. but those ffn comments are still what i think about when i remember this fic.

sure, a shear number like hits or kudos can be comforting and motivating. i'm definitely not telling you to NOT leave kudos! but the fics that i've come back to, recently, are the ones where i don't have a lot of kudos but i do have a few people who are invested in the stories and leaving comments to tell me

2. seeing trends

lets look at a few of the comments on my fic The Maid of Honor Made Them Do It

so just in these two comments, we see both commenters hone in on the same detail: my choice to include a special christian music playlist that this characters' friends made for her. a few other people in this thread mentioned that same detail, so i know this bit really worked well! it's great feedback that lets me know that a good chunk of readers agree with my characterization here.

these readers zoom in on specific details that they really liked! things that made them laugh, the absurdity of the concept, enjoying reading it, and that they could see it staged, which is a HUGE compliment for a work in a fandom for theater.

i've always had trouble with imaging where characters are in a space, how they're occupying it and moving, and how to use that for characterization purposes. however, i got more than one comment on this fic about how people could see it staged! that means that i'm improving in an area that i've always struggled with. that's huge. it makes me want to keep working on this thing! it makes me feel like what i'm doing here matters, because lots of people are picking up on similar things! they're invested enough to give me a comment! and it makes me want to keep writing for the hatchetfield fandom because some people are invested in my work here. that is BIG! seeing trends in the way that readers experience your story helps a lot with writer buy-in for a project and also for writers self-analysis.

as a commenter: this helps me JUST as much. when i really dig into what i enjoyed about a fic to tell the writer about it, that helps me analyze and articulate the strengths and things i might want to take away from the storytelling, and that makes my writing better too!

3. buy-in

this is a comment on a series that has less than 100 kudos across three fics, but has thoughtful, appreciative comments on each work. it's called Melting Pot

the commenter deleted their ao3 account. they may be one of the people who commented on the next fic, which i posted recently. they might NOT have been! honestly, it doesn't matter that much to me. this person gave me a gentle and nudge about a fic that matters to me and mattered to them at the time, and they were part of the push i needed to get back to it.

from a commenter perspective, i know that hearing a kind word can help someone keep up their motivation to write, even when i can't write in depth comments the way that i like to!

just recently i only had the time to comment "nice update" on a favorite fic of mine called Teeth That Turn. but they know that i come and i read and they know and talk to me by (user)name. because they know i care about this thing they care about! and it's way more fun to do something like this when i know i can chat with the author about theories and thoughts and ideas. and this isn't a "wow aren't i so cool other writers like me! tehehe" bragging thing, it's just evidence for the case of why comments matter?

if i didn't want this to be a two way buy-in, i'd ONLY read published fiction, you know? we're all playing in the sandbox on the playground and i like what they made. they like that i like what they made :) we're scheduling a play date to fight with sticks after school my mom said it's okay!

4. community building

now i know that i just mentioned above here why i like being a commenter and how it helps authors, as well as why i like HAVING commenters as an author. i'm still arguing those things as a lead up to this section, where i have two other points to make about community building here too.

1. you can comment on OTHER comments! if you go through and read to see what other people are saying, you can agree with them. you can add some commentary! sometimes you can make a joke! and i've only ever had fun responses from something like that. authors tend to love that their fics are getting such a response that people are talking to each other about it! like look!!!!!! my thing got you to talk to someone else about it holy shit?!??!

2. commenting on fics in your fandom builds you a good reputation and makes other authors you comment on more likely to read YOUR fic. i'm not going to post any screenshots on this one because it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, but there have been authors that i really admired who gave my stuff a try after i commented on theirs. and they've told me that's why they tried it! like obviously it's not just networking or whatever, but it's really nice to have someone give your stuff a try because you've been enthusiastic and thoughtful about theirs.

and you make friends this way! fandom friends! who want to talk about your blorbos! you get to go on little play dates in cyberspace with cool people who like what you like. you don't ever HAVE to be a writer, of course. if you don't want to throw your hat into the ring or make art or edits or gif sets or anything, that's cool. no one ever has to participate in fandom outside of their comfort zone! but if you want to, you know that you'll feel more welcomed if you have some people in your corner for it, and making friends in a space, screaming about how much you love the characters you love, and remembering that fic authors especially are just fans too will help you feel like you "deserve" to exist in the space. maybe you don't write, but you go here too. you've got a space in the fandom and your comments don't have to be, like, perfect literary essays for authors to appreciate them and get a motivation boost from them still existing and us being able to go back to them and go!!! look!!! i don't suck!!! this person liked what i did so i'm okay! :)

#anons #writing things #ao3 things #the case for commenting

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tac-the-unseen · 2 days

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JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

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vickyvicarious · 3 days

Text

It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting. [...] Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here comes the coach!

Jonathan "understating my distress" Harker is back at it again!

He can't turn back. This is his first big job and it's a very big and important one. He doesn't even have a good reason to do as the landlady suggests and delay a day or two, since his host has paid for his spot on the coach and will be sending someone to meet him on the other end. Not to mention, no one is giving him any specifics whatsoever, so all he can really say to justify even wanting to stay back would be 'the locals were acting really scared'. It would just read as getting caught up in silly superstition, and again this is his first task after his promotion, this is stepping into the shoes of his boss, this is his livelihood. There's too many reasons to go.

But he starts out the entry saying "hm, this is a bit creepy" and ends by saying (in a roundabout way) "I feel a bit unsettled... if I die and this diary is all that's left of me, Mina this is a goodbye." Like!!! Imagine how freaked out he actually is here!

This is only the second entry. He isn't at the castle yet. The only contact he has had with Dracula himself is that little note from yesterday. And already Jonathan closes his entry with a farewell to Mina. The other times he does this are when he truly expects that he will probably die before getting to write again. (And yeah, he says "before I [reach Mina]" but I tend to think that's him trying to talk down his own reaction because again he doesn't know any reason to be this worried. Why else would his diary return before him, and with only two entries in it?)

He sounds amusingly mild. But "not comforting" and "not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual" apparently translate to "just in case I'm about to die, Mina, I love you." Even if he reasons to himself that he's just being superstitious as well, that he's being very illogical and it's just nerves, or maybe the idolatrous crucifix, that he's probably just unsettled after all the travel and the 'queer dreams' of the other night (definitely nightmares)... in this moment he's really distressed. His alarm bells are definitely ringing.

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #dracula daily spoilers

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bucksdaffy · 22 hours

Text

okay, so i've seen some people claim that tim minear is an avid buddie shipper and that he's slowly but surely laying the groundwork for buck and eddie to become canon in the future and...

i'm just thoroughly confused about this assertion.

i'll preface this by saying i'm very new to the fandom, so i'm prepared to be wrong about this. i'm aware i may lack crucial context because i've been here only so long. also, i don't know tim personally, so i obviously can't speak to his true intentions, but i'll make my case anyway.

i'll cite two RECENT comments by tim that i assume people might draw this conclusion from:

1. [?: There is a sect of the fandom that just wants 9-1-1 to be the Buck and Eddie show, and any cut that removes a second of them is going to get the same reaction. Nothing short of renaming the show "Christopher's Two Dads" is going to make them happy.] T: I totally get that. I even appreciate it. Which explains the entire first act of last night's episode. I kind of did for the Buck/Eddie fans (I mean I really do it for myself in the end). I just thought... they'd like it? Shrug. I liked it, so whatever.

2. Minear tells Rolling Stone that he hasn’t just been aware of fan reactions, he’s actually changed storylines in the past to avoid being accused of queerbaiting. But rather than help, he says it made the show worse. “Nobody wants to be accused of queerbaiting so I kind of stopped writing those characters together. And I think it hurt the show because I was so afraid to be accused of something that I wasn’t going where I would naturally go with the stories,” Minear says. “I just decided that I just have to write the thing that I think is right. I just have to be honest with the story I’m telling and let the chips fall where they may.”

now, i may be biased, but this doesn't read to me like he plans on buddie endgame at all.

while it's clear he loves the bond between buck and eddie and enjoys highlighting it in the show, saying he totally wants them to end up together feels like a reach.

he discusses being accused of queerbaiting in the past, which led him to backtrack a little and stop writing buck and eddie together. how does this suggest he did it because he wants buddie to become canon? if that were his intention he could have continued to drop more (apparent!) hints that buck and eddie may love each other in a non-platonic way. he wouldn't care about the accusations of queerbaiting so much, because he would be planning to make them canon all along. sure, there are external constraints that could prevent this from ever materializing, but that doesn't mean he couldn't write the dialogue in a clearly ambiguous way so that once he gets a pass and everyone else involved is on board with it, he could confirm that "yeah, you were right; it was a good ol' friends-to-lovers slow burn trope all along. congrats!!" no. instead he backtracked because he didn't want anyone to think he was writing buddie as anything other than a platonic relationship. that's it. but he eventually realized it doesn't really matter because people are going to think what they want to think regardless. and he obviously loves buck and eddie's friendship so he might as well just make the most out of it at this point. and if he ever feels like maybe it is a good time to turn their friendship into something more because it feels right for story, he'll go for it. but if not, he won't.

i see a lot of people claim buddie is a six-season-long slow burn, being carefully crafted right now for future canonization. and they say tim basically confirmed this. but i really can't see his comments being a confirmation of the sort.

if there are any quotes i'm missing that suggest otherwise, i would love to go through them. so if anyone's aware of any, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

but at the moment i believe y'all are just setting yourselves up for disappointment.

#i'm half asleep writing this #i don't even know if this makes sense #anyway #i'm open to discussion #if anyone has any thoughts on this i'll happily read through them #bucktommy #not tagging the other ship for reasons #evan buckley #tim minear

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 days

Text

Hi maggots... I have to go out for an entrance exam in a half hour but here I am, stealing a while to talk to you all. I don't know, why are we always making time for the things that are important and using time for the things we have to do but always stealing time for what we want to do? What is wasting time, anyway? I don't know. I don't know much at all.

I made the mistake of playing a new song while typing this first bit. It's Birch, by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift. Do new songs ever make you feel a bit nervous but excited, like you're experiencing some emotion for the first time and reading a book or watching a movie and you don't quite know how it will end and where it will take you on the way? It's not the kind of thing you do lightly. Well, I mean, it's not the kind of thing I can do lightly. I'll have to listen to it again, while I'm not here writing.

This counts, doesn't it, as writing? Why do I have to be writing my book or a poem or a song for it to be real writing? I'm putting words together and I'm putting them together for us, for you and me. God we make ourselves feel guilty with so many arbitrary definitions.

A familiar song is playing now, The Alcott by The National and Taylor Swift. I think their voices meld together beautiful, gritty and smooth. I think Swift is a skilled singer-songwriter, as well as a performer. I think a lot of things.

Why am I writing an entrance exam? Well, writing is an exaggeration, it'll involve sketching and maybe an interview. It's for an art school. The design school I got into, which I told you all about and was thinking of not doing, well, that got messy. They were... not very polite about a scholarship that they'd said they'd give. And I can't risk going to a situation like my last college. I don't wanna sully this post with it (how do I use words like wanna and sully next to each other, I really cannot pick a way to use this language) but well. It wasn't fun. I don't want to be an unfriendly/unsafe environment if I can help it.

Am I excited or nervous for the exam? Not really. Too many things have happened to leave any room for that. It's mainly resignation, a sort of oh, is this what's happening now? ok. That's sad. But I still care about things, I promise. Not the things I used to, like academics or grades or some abstract future. I care about you. I care about you so much. I think about you all the time. I care about my mum and my dog. About stickers and Good Omens and Sherlock Holmes and music and books.

It's a different kind of caring.

I have ten minutes left. I need to shower and pack my things in that time. I'm cutting it fine. Like a slice of whale. Some of you are confused by that. A lot of you are thinking Asmi, no, no, no. That makes me smirk. A fine slice of whalegina, loves.

I'll tell you all about it one day (hush, those of you still desperately thinking Asmi, no with a mixture of horror and fascination).

It's the sixth of May here. 2024, for those of you who've lost track of years. A Monday. Tomorrow is my twentieth birthday. So many things are happening in my life, not all of them good, but what's always good is you. It's us.

We're good. We're always good. I love you. So much.

I promise, maggots. We're more than friends, we're family. And to whoever it is reading this, maggot, even if we've never spoken, I care about you. Because you took the time to read this. You took the time to care. I care, too. I care about you.

I'll go shower now, in a bit of a rush, but smiling. Because of you. Because of all of you.

Love, Asmi

#unravelling rambles

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mazzystar24 · 1 day

Note

I totally get I just finished my exam week (I had to do a math test at 8am Sat😭). Wish you luck tho!

Also do you have any good buddies fics? Destiel too?

Math test at 8am is BRUTAL

Thank you I will definitely need it😭😭

Unfortunately I only have buddie fics to offer😔:

(Warning I do like a fair amount of angst)

Right where you left me - by hyacinthusbloom ( @thebloomingheather on here) - when I say I might be as big a fan of this fic as I am of the show I MEAN IT, you do not even understand how much I love this fic or how obsessed I am with it, I have reread it so many times despite it still being in progress that I think I may genuinely qualify it as addictive, me and @estheticpotaeto legit wait for updates like a dog at the author’s door istg, like everything about this fic is flawless and written with so much love and emotion and the way the writer captures the effects of trauma is just amazing because it’s so rare to find this level of diving into ptsd and the more uncomfortable aspects of it that are more taboo or less understandable to people, like I can yap for an hour about this fic but I’ll just say READ IT

Any fic by daisies_and_briars ( @cal-daisies-and-briars on here) but one of my favourites of his is Both blade and branch and muscle memory and four can keep a secret and appetency and the two she’s writing right now (change the prophecy and steal my sunshine) -wow at that point I should’ve left it as any fic because that’s a lot of favourites😭😭

Any fic by @loserdiaz plus with them you get enough lighthearted fics to even out the angst

Ooo I’m not sure what their username on here is but lizzybizzyzz is also another writer who I just love their fics

Fractals by hobbitprincess - one of those fics that make you squeak at how much love these fictional characters have for each other

Beneath my mother tongue by archerincombat - the angst the writing the way they hit every single emotional beat? Amazing

Anything by this_is_moony_lovegood

Leave the light on (I’ll be coming home) by HMSLusitania - the presumed dead Eddie fic of your dreams, a constant reread for me it’s just 👌

Anchored by adorkable_buddie - sorry Chris you gotta be injured sometimes just for us to get our buddie dreams hope you understand and we appreciate your sacrifice 😔🫶

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by daniweb - when I tell you I love the presumed dead trope you best believe I’m telling the truth because the ANGST?? Yes please, LISTEN it’s the closest you can get to the emotional beats of killing off a character without ever killing them off because you love them and happy endings too much so TIM MINEAR TAKE NOTES I KNOW YOU SAID YOU LOVE THEM TOO MUCH TO KILL THEM, anyways back to to the point this fic again is just flawless execution by the writer like absolutely love it

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall - emotional destruction and I absolutely love it, divorce era 2.0 and it HITS

Home is where it hurts- by rileyblue2001 - can you tell I hate the Buckley parents because I HATE the Buckley parents

The one with the return of the sex addiction by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew) - I’ve reccomended so much angst so have a funny little light hearted buddie fic with the father bobby vibes we all love❤️❤️

Okay back to the angst tho 😭😭- out of ashes by Ashavahishta - AHHHHHHH THIS FIC JUST AHHHHH STOP THE WAY I WOULD DIE FOR A FOLLOW UP FIC TO THIS AHHHH I LOVE IT SM AND ITS LEGIT A ONE SHOT I CRIED SO HARD

Falling Slowly; Sing Your Melody (I’ll Sing It Loud) by Princessfbi ( @princessfbi on here who I also love sm of their fics so highly suggest just going on their page and looking through all the fics) - absolutely love it, legit gave me brain rot and got me obsessed for a GOOD while

I'm comin' back, don't let me go by wikiangela ( @wikiangela on here also love love their fics again so check them out but this one is probably my favourite of theirs)

Okay this is looking more and more like a uni reading list so I’m gonna shut up now but I hope you enjoy these fics and that a few of them emotionally damage you like they did me because I love to spread the joy (see: pain and suffering) 🫶🫶

#911 #buddie #evan buckley #911 abc #eddie diaz #911 fox #evan buck buckley #911onfox #buckley diaz family #911 fic #911 fic rec #buddie fic #buddie fic recs #asks open #send asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks #also for any authors I didn’t tag the tumblr’s of it’s just cos I can’t remember it off the top of my head so just used ao3 links instead)

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thebestsetter · 2 days

Text

A never ending cycle

A/n: this is completely based on a fic of a friend of mine. If you're a portuguese speaker, you should really check her works, they're amazing! Her user's @esposa_do_shidou on tiktok!

~ Tw: This is kinda angsty and has some cuss words (use of the f word 2 times) and violence. If you're sensible about any of these topics, I suggest you don't read this

He didn't deserve this, she was sure of it. Even though he could be a little annoying sometimes and really liked to mess with her, Kaiser was a nice guy. He was familiar with suffering and didn't want anyone to go through what he went through as a child, and a person who lived what he did didn't deserve to suffer even more. But, as the wise writer Luís de Camões once wrote, sometimes good people go through bad times. And that was exactly what happened to Michael Kaiser.

-Sit still! If you keep moving I won't be able to completely clean the wound - (Name) said while firmly holding his chin and rotating his face, looking for more bruises - I still want to know what happens everytime you come here looking for me. I brushed it off for a long time, but now I'm curious. You always come here with a black eye and at least one new scar. Keep it up and you'll show up without a tooth by next week - she sighed, putting her arms on her lap - I just don't get it. Why won't you tell me? Don't you trust me?

(Name) and Kaiser had been friends for almost 5 years, and lately they've started to follow a routine: every week, at least 2 or 3 times, Kaiser shows up at her door, with more bruises than the last time he went there, so she can take care of him. She rubs alcohol on his wounds and gives him food. He then says goodbye, leaves and returns the same way (if not worse) the next day.

She never asked what happened to him, even though she was dying to know, because she didn't want him to feel pressured to tell her. The girl was sure he'd tell her eventually, but even after 6 months of following this same routine, he never once mentioned anything about what happened when he was out.

-Hm - Kaiser hummed, a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. He knew it wasn't the first time she thought about it. If someone came up to him all bruised, he'd want to at least know what happened to the person, but she never asked him about it. And he was grateful for it. He was grateful for her.

The truth is he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her about his father abusing him ever since he was born. He wanted to tell her about his need to steal to survive and tell her that her food was actually the first homemade thing he ever ate, and he felt like crying everytime she cared for him, because no one showed him that much care before. But he was scared. He was afraid that when she found out about the robberies, she would be scared of him and wouldn't want to see him anymore. He'd lose her. And it's not like he didn't know the feeling of losing something (besides his soccer ball, he never had anything to lose anyway), but he knew she was the only good thing in his life, and he couldn't even contemplate the thought of losing her without his stomach turning all over and his eyes suddenly became wet.

-Really Kaiser, you can't keep coming here if it's going to be like this - she started, getting up from the chair she was sitting on - I'm saying this because I care about you, and I want to help you through the hard times.

-You can't help me - he said, looking at the floor.

-Maybe I can! If you just tell me what is going on, I can help you!

-My life is none of your business - he said, also getting up from his chair and facing her - I already told you you can't do anything to help, so maybe just shut your fucking mouth and stop being so nosy. - he didn't know why he got so mad at her at that moment, but it was too late to take his words back.

-Mihya, I like you. I don't want to force you to tell me about what happens when you leave my house, but I want to help you. Please, tell me.

-Shut up.

-Michael, it would make this whole situation easier for the both of us.

-Shut up.

-Please Kaiser, I just want you to trus-

-I SAID SHUT UP!

A loud noise echoed across the room, and (Name) slowly brought her hand to her now red and swolen cheek. Meanwhile, Kaiser looked at his hand that was in the air and had just hit the person he cared about most. He was still processing the whole situation, but he was sure of one thing: he regretted what he did.

-I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I-I… - he started, stepping closer to (Name) so he could hug her. But she took a step back and gosh, should a single action hurt one's heart so much? Because Kaiser was sure he heard his heart breaking when he looked at her form: she was cowering with fear, flinching everytime he tried to get closer to her so he could apologize for what he did. The thing he feared the most came true: she was scared of him. Terrified, even.

-Get out of my house - she muttered, still holding her cheek.

-W-what? - he asked. He heard what she said, but didn't want to believe it: she couldn't really be kicking him out of her house, could she?

-I told you to GET OUT! - she shouted at him with tears in her eyes, and Kaiser felt his own tears starting to form and travel his cheeks and chin before wetting the floor underneath him.

He really wanted to stay. Hell, he wanted to get on his knees and beg her not to leave him. Tell her that he meant nothing he said or did. Tell her that she was the best thing that had happened to him, cause she showed him what love was. But he felt like he wasn't worthy of it. He wasn't worthy of her.

So, with one last look inside the house he grew accostumed with, he left.

It was probably for the best anyway: you know what people say, the abused becomes the abuser, right? If he got too close to her, he would hurt her more than he already did. He was dangerous. He was just like his father.

Hugging his sides, Kaiser started to walk "home". The only thing that could be heard were his sobs and hiccups. There wasn't anyone around, but even if there were people around him, he was too sad and broken to care. He just knew one thing: he fucked up. But he was stubborn, and he was going to fix this no matter what it took. He cared too much for (Name) to just give her up like that, so he wouldn't back down without fighting.

#bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk #michael kaiser #bllk kaiser #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock kaiser #kaiser x reader #blue lock angst #bllk angst #angst

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ceruleancattail · 20 hours

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Heyo!

I’ve been reading some of your horror/darker twst fics, and I LOVE THEM! So theres something I’d like to mention (?)

Theres one character that has the horror potential of the century yet I noticed you haven’t done much on him : Che’nya.

He can teleport, go invisible ( choose which limbs to make invisible or visible, plus being selectively visable to certain people) , Detach his own limbs from his body without hurting himself, have them float on their own or just throw em around.

He can also be weightless/fly too. Add that Terrifying Cheshire Grin in, plus how he hums when we first meet him…..

NOT REQUESTING ANYTHING JUST CURIOUS IF YOU KNEW SRRY IF THIS IS A BOTHER!!!

HELLO YOU READ MY DARKER FICS WE ARE IMMEDIATELY BESTIES ANON ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!

Sometimes it’s just about the darker themes, the horror of having someone just so utterly depraved and obsessed!!!!! RAHHHHHH

Anyways I promise I’m normal- BUT OK CHE’NYA LIKE YOU ARE SO REAL FOR THIS OK I AM HEARING YOU OUT (reading you out?).

Ok so real? I ACTUALLY HAD NO IDEA HE COULD TELEPORT OR DETACH HIS LIMBS. OH MY GOD. IMAGINE THE FEAR YOU’LL FEEL IF IN A BID TO ESCAPE, YOU LOP OFF HIS HEAD…. AND HE JUST CALMLY PICKS IT UP AGAIN, TWISTING IT ON. GODS THAT’S TERRIFYING.

He’s like that one character in those old horror game who’s just so nice to the protagonist. You meet him at the very start, a strange man lounging away on a tree, humming a sweet, soft tune. Yet there was a certain sadness, within the music. A certain melancholy etched deep into his features.

You call out to him, asking where you are. He’ll laugh at your plight, pointing in every single direction he could, fingers flying all over the place…. Oh, he’s a jerk at first, but he’ll agree to tag along with you for the moment. Just because you seem interesting. At the very most, watching your demise will keep him entertained for a while!

Yet as much as Che’nya’s words concern you, he’s actually been quite decent. Not as a guide, but as a companion. Showing you the rules of the world, running away from dangers just alongside you… even with every single horror this strange world thrown at you, Che’nya was right there by your side.

Again.

And again.

yet at the final moment, it’s revealed that he was the culprit all along, and every single thing he’s ever done was to keep you in the world longer and longer, until you finally rot away, in the sick, Twisted Wonderland. Whether you’ve pieced it together from the scattered clues and mangled corpses on the way, or Che’nya slips up and tells you a little more then you have to know…. You’ll find out, in the end.

That the companion you have by your side was a shackle, in the end. Weighing down on your very neck, chaining you in this world. Che’nya’s ever so apologetic about it. Cooing at you gently, caressing your cheeks softly with his hands.

Don’t you see? This was the way it was meant to be. He was so lonely until you showed up… hey, wouldn’t you stay? Both of you could star in this play of madness! Spinning around and around until both of you are dizzy, delirious, dancing on your tippy toes.

Just take his hand, and forget it all. What good did your world ever do for you, anyways? You’re much better off staying with him. Che’nya only wants what’s best for you.

As sympathetic as his voice sounds, Che’nya was still smiling. A Cheshire’s sinister grin, spread across his lips. Grinning down at you mockingly, patronisingly…. Yet you could still see some affection, in that smile. The slightest hint of fondness, leaking through that grin of his.

Because as much as Che’nya treats you as a toy, you’re still his favourite one.

You just hope he loves you enough not to break you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Che’nya x reader #che’nya #Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā #Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā x reader #protection charm♦️

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mightymizora · 1 day

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Feel free to ignore but: do you feel that gortash is - I guess the word I'd use is "good" - at sex? By whatever metric you'd judge that?

Hey anon I LOVE THIS QUESTION and I can't be normal about it!

So I have to dive into it a bit into sections because there's a lot going on here for me and obviously the caveat here is this is my opinion, this is my opinion from inferences from the text, this is my opinion.

So in order to do this we need to cover a few sections: sexual education, sexual agency, sex as tool and sex as desire.

All of this is going under the cut for discussions of childhood abuse, canon inferences, decisions he makes in game, and some headcanons around agency and dub/non-con that readers may find uncomfortable.

so, let's start at the very beginning with:

Sexual Education

There are two things we know about young Enver Flymm. One is that he was raised in a small cobblers workshop where he shared a single room with his parents. The other is that at some point, he was taken to the literal hells where he suffered an incredibly physically abusive situation.

We don't know for sure the exact age he was taken, but I think it's easy to infer that he was prepubescent when he was taken from the way he is spoken about as a snot, a boy etc. by Nubaldin. Even if he was a little older, it's safe to infer that he didn't have a particularly healthy environment to learn about sex and sexuality either at home or in literal hell.

If we assume Enver was in hell, we know that the sex he would have potential been aware of was largely non-consensual. There's references all over the place about his fellow detainee Hope being sexually and physically assaulted as well as psychologically manipulated. We don't know with Enver if he ages in the hells (I assume he does, and that it is only those who sell their souls and end up there after death that do not age) but if he does, he goes from childhood to early adulthood, ten years, in this space (mirrored in Karlach spending ten years there as well, interestingly.)

We also don't actually know how he escaped the hells, and it is a niche headcanon (which I have also put into my works) that he as a young adult learned about sex and traded with Haarlep to find his route out (in my stories, this directly feeds into Mephistopheles being interested in the potential of this boy, and letting him steal the crown.) There's no text basis for this, it just neatly ties up some thematic threads and I think can be put aside and it still doesn't change the core that:

Enver Gortash had no way of having a healthy understanding of sex as a teenager. There isn't really any way that he could have! Either he's living in a one-bed apartment with abusive parents who hate his existence, or he's learning from Raphael's example in literal hell.

Sexual Agency

This is where a lot of people feel differently, but again, we can look at things as they are and then make some inferences.

Enver Gortash does not have a named spouse, or any named mistresses/side pieces/conquests. Anything. There is no evidence of anything (we will come to Durge later.) Compare this to Sarevok, who has two named partners and is inferred to have had others, and it is an interesting choice to have zero ties. It's particularly interesting because as a Lord, he would be expected to be thinking of siring a house, and as a man in power, the narrative expectation would be to find evidence of sex as a benefit of his position. We don't see any evidence of that.

There is a read that many, including me, bring to the fondness that The Dark Urge and Gortash have for each other, but again, there is no evidence that this is sexual or if it is, that it was ever something than a mutual pining. That's the joy of fanworks, you can grow on what's there, but it's not explicit that it's anything more than mutual admiration.

So for me? I think that there is significant evidence that he doesn't prioritise sexual attraction and fulfilment over other areas of reward.

Sex as a Tool

What we do know though is that he has used his body to get things he wants. The Jannath letter, which I love, makes it clear that he had sex with her for financial favours and clout, and that she indulged him in this. He's also more than happy to trade on his image in every way he can. I think it's easy to infer from this that he is, at least in one setting, able to give people what they want out of sex. Whether that means he's technically good OR he's good at constructing and fulfilling the fantasy, I think that's up to interpretation, but I think he knows what to do when it is a performance, and if there's something he can tangibly get out of it like money, power, the ability to blackmail somebody later, then that is the element that is getting him off, not the sex itself. Sex for gain is just another part of his arsenal, to be refined and researched like anything else, and picked up and put down as useful to him.

Sex as Desire

And this is --and it is completely up to interpretation here, I'm just rolling with the other things I see -- where it can potentially all fall apart for Gortash. If he actually likes somebody, if there is a desire or an affection or anything like that, and if he is able to even feel emotions like that, what does he do with them? It's not useful, it's not contained, it's not part of the punishment he learned in the hells or the seduction he learned in the patriars. If he does find himself genuinely fond of another person, how can that fit in his ideas of sex? Personally, I don't think it can do, and there's lots of ways to play with that. In my own stories, the sexual contact he has with Manva is brief, quite one-sided, and quite regressive. He is no charming seducer, but instead taken back to something much simpler that he likely didn't have space for when he was young. He has other encounters where he can't get it up, or can't climax, because the circumstances aren't quite right, the promise of power is not enough, or the partner is too willing (not like he has learned of in the hells at all.)

I think personally that if he does seek out recreational sex, then it is primarily going to be motivated by power play. And I don't think this is well negotiated kink territory. He plays with the player character constantly, testing them, destroying their reputation in the press quest, always vying for more power even when you are apparently allies. This is a man who always, always needs to know he can change the tide.

I think of the woman whose voice was used in the necrotic laboratory, who was stolen away with a promise of a better life. I think of Fariza Linnacker. There's no evidence either were sexual, but we do know that he took great pleasure in manipulating and destroying their lives.

Gortash has so much going on around sex as a tool, as a weapon even, that when it comes to a genuine connection, there's every possibility that he cannot perform at all.

And would that make him embarrassed? Angry? Would he blame? Lash out? Would he seek out professionals to replay old traumas as a "safe space"? Would he avoid all intimacy because he sees it as weak and disgusting? I think there's a lot of scope within this.

So the short version is... I think he's able to be good at sex when it's FOR something. But I don't know if he's even interested when it's not, and if he is, I think he has a long way to go to actively want to seek it out. And is he good in the way that it is connected, intimate? Probably not.

#something something some astarion parallels in there to probably #enver gortash #rotating him around like a rotisserie chicken every day #bg3

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xmasterofmunsonx · 3 days

Text

Now That We Don’t Talk

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader + Eddie Munson x reader (ex!Steve mostly)

Not for minors: includes drinking, language, mention of death of family members, etc. not for your eyes if you're under 18, please.

Word count: 13.5k (yikes !)

Author's note: One shot I've been sitting with this one since 1989 TV was released. I'm not 100% on this, but after reading and reading and editing even more, I think it's perfect and as best as I’m going to get. The pacing seems similar to the song, it gets quicker as it goes on, and has a nice abrupt ending. I hope you enjoy it, this one means a lot to me because I’ve put so much time and thought into it. I really thought the quick pacing at the end would ruin it, but like I said I wanted to mirror the quickness of the song. Totally open to some smaller one shots from this ~*universe*~ to elaborate more on any of the years or moments. I’d actually love that if anyone was interested in requesting anything 🩷

“You went to a party, I heard from everybody, you part the crowd like the Red Sea, don’t even get me started. Did you get anxious though, on the way home? I guess I'll never, ever know… now that we don't talk”

Summer 1987

You sighed, kicking your feet at the water in the pool. Your best friend Robin sat beside you, you both were sipping beers you’d practically been nursing all night at this house party you knew you’d have to drive your boyfriend home from. It was your last summer in Hawkins- hopefully forever.

Last spring you’d lost your mom in the “earthquake” of ‘86, and Robin’s family had taken you in until you figured out your plan. You were both reminiscing over the past year living together, and the previous years of the cursed things you and your group of friends had been through in Hawkins and the upside down- the losses, and the victories. Through all of it you’d been on and off with Steve after he’d dropped Nancy- you had her to thank for that one. You’d always had a thing for Steve, ever since middle school, but he only had eyes for Nancy and you knew you never stood a chance. It wasn’t until they broke up, you helped Steve’s wounded heart and then you two became a couple.

You fell in love quick- who wouldn’t? Steve was beautiful, and he was an absolute dream of a boyfriend. Minus the baggage of his stuck up family who hadn’t taken to you so kindly. You two had decided that moving together out of Hawkins would be the best thing for both of you, to leave the memories and nightmares behind, and start a new life somewhere.

You knew Steve was inside of the party, likely hanging out with his “friends,” drunk out of his mind like usual at these. For once he wasn’t hosting, this was a house equally as nice as his, but was some girl’s house from his senior year- but he was still, as always, the life of the party. You looked out across the yard to see that Nancy was rocking in a wooden swing in the back corner of the yard beside Jonathan and Eddie.

“I can’t believe he can still drink like this.” You finished off your beer, crushing the can beside you on the cold concrete surrounding the pool.

“Me neither. He’s doing okay?” Robin’s voice was laced with concern.

“Yeah. I mean, considering… he’s got his good days and bad days, but don’t we all?” Truth be told, Steve had kind of turned into a little bit of a mess. But everyone knew it, and you were all there for each other when you needed extra support.

“I just worry he’s gonna have a breakdown when he gets out of here and he actually has to work for things, aren’t you?” Robin spoke, and the thought had crossed your mind too, but you always seemed to push it out of your head.

“We’ve got everything lined up, thanks to good ole Harrington money.” You chuckled, annoyed but also a little thankful for the fact that he was still supported by his parents, equally just as shitty as they were absent from his life.

“Speaking of, have you laid eyes on him lately?” You checked the gold watch on your arm that had been a Christmas present last year, initials engraved into the inside of the dainty band around your wrist. You realized it had been quite some time since you’d seen him, but that wasn’t unlike him at a party this size. You would tend to be found outside away from everyone, and he would be inside seeking attention from everyone after a few beer.

“Been a minute, I’ll go check on him.” You stood to get up, but felt a hand pulling you up in assistance as your legs climbed out of the warm water of the pool.

“Better come with you, I gotta pee anyway.” Eddie suddenly appeared by your side. You two entered the party, tossing empty cans into the trash can in the crowded kitchen. “Hey, uh…” Eddie stepped in front of you. “Maybe let’s get some fresh air first?”

“Quit being weird, I need to make sure he’s not passed out somewhere already.” You tried to shove past him, but he wasn’t letting you by. “And fresh air? We were just outside.”

“Listen sweetheart, I don’t think-” his voice was deep, and quiet as he gently placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Eddie.” You stamped your foot like a child at your friend. “Move. I’ve seen him really fucking drunk before, we leave in a week, and I knew it was going to be bad tonight, but I can take care of him.” You peered around his frame, seeing what looked like a clear path parting in the sea of people.

It was all leading to your boyfriend Steve, with another girl sitting on his lap. The girl who just so happened to be hosting this party, a brown glass bottle on the coffee table pointed directly at where Steve sat on the couch.

Not only was this girl on top of him, but they were going at each other like feral animals in front of everyone at this party. You stood there, speechless as you watched. Her hands were pulling him in closer by his brown hair, the hair that you loved to absentmindedly play with, and his hands were splayed out across her back and you watched as they slid down to her ass, pulling her into him.

The chatter of the party, hoots and hollers by the shitty old jocks that peaked in high school had stopped, as did your heart as you felt it crumble in front of you. Everyone had realized you’d walked in the room except Steve himself.

“C’mon, I’ll get you home-” Eddie guided you backwards, but you shoved him forward.

“I don’t have a fucking home, Eddie!” You didn’t care who heard you. “HE was my home. How stupid was I to think that Steve fucking Harrington was my home, and we were supposed to start a new one together and leave this godforsaken, cursed, upside down town behind?! But that’s not happening now, is it, STEVE?!” You were screaming at this point. The girl straddling Steve was wiping lipstick and spit off of her face as she smirked at you, and Steve was horrified as he looked at you.

“Honey-” he started, using your favorite name for you that now made you feel more sour than sweet, as he pushed the girl off of his lap and made his way to you, you could see his dick was half hard in his too tight pants, “-it was just a game of spin the bottle, we-”

You kneed him in the balls and walked over to the girl who was still smirking as if making out with Steve was some accomplishment. “You can have him.” you told her as you ran out the front door of the gigantic house.

You had never felt so small. Steve always made you feel small, everything he had was big, but never did he make you feel this small. His house, new cars, big family events- when you only ever had your mom. And now, you didn’t even have her.

You heard the door slam behind you and you assumed it was Eddie, “Eddie, I’m fine to drive home.”

“I-I can’t leave Hawkins.” The voice clamored out.

You turned to see your coward of a boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend now, “What did you say?”

“I can’t leave.” He ran a stupidly large hand through his stupidly gorgeous hair. “I was going to tell you tomorrow, my parents told me that if I go, I’m cut off forever. Like, from everything.” He gestured in front of him as if he was showing you some grand image of his future.

“And? You decided to make me look like a fucking fool at a party, days before we’re leaving? How long have you known?”

“Just a few weeks.” He said as if it were nothing, as if it meant nothing to him.

“A few weeks, Steve?! You didn’t think you could tell me sooner? All of my shit is packed into boxes- fuck, you’re the one who helped me! And now you made me look like a goddamn idiot in front of everyone, which makes me want to leave even more now but I can’t! Steve, we’ve been planning this for months.”

“I’m really fucking drunk, and she climbed in my lap, and-“ he was slurring his words as he approached you.

“Bullshit, my friend.” Eddie had appeared out of nowhere, yet again. He placed his hand on your shoulder to gently push his way in front of you to keep you out of Steve’s line of sight. “I saw it through the sliding glass doors. You held your hand out like some type of a goddamn gentleman and welcomed her onto your lap like it was a golden throne.” His hands wildly waved in the air as he spoke. “Steve, you’ll never know what it’s like to lose everything. You’re too fucking scared to leave mommy and daddy’s silver platter of life they’ve handed you.” It was true- Steve had everything handed to him, and you knew Eddie had lost so much in his life like you had.

“What, so you’re just gonna turn on me like that, man?” Steve walked up to Eddie like he was intimidating, but Eddie never waivered.

“What am I supposed to do, man?” He mocked. “Nancy, Jonathan, and I all saw it. As soon as I saw she was getting up from the pool to come inside I tried to slow down what was happening so at least she didn’t have to see it, just hear about it, but your dick brain just kept on making out with her.”

You interrupted the boys bickering. “We’re done, Steve. I don’t care how drunk you are, it’s not an excuse. You knew that was fucked up, and we are done. Between that in there, and you being too much of a pushover to your parents, I can’t do this anymore. You can pick your shit up from Robin’s front porch in the morning. I’m still leaving.” You stomped past him to your car, not giving a single fuck about how anyone was getting home that night who depended on you. You knew they’d understand. And for all you knew, Steve had another bed already lined up for tonight.

“Baby, baby. Please. Stay so we can talk and figure this out-” Steve was practically pleading with you.

“There’s no more figuring this out, Steve. We’re done.” You tossed the gold watch onto the dewy grass outside of the window of your car, and drove off.

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons, and from the outside, it looks like you're tryin' lives on. I miss the old ways, you didn't have to change, but I guess I don't have a say… now that we don't talk”

Fall 1988

It had been over a year since you’d been back in Hawkins, and had it not been for Robin’s birthday, you might have gone another year. Or more.

You pulled up to the familiar house that was your home for a short while, to be greeted by her parents with big hugs.

“How’s the big city?” They both asked as they grabbed your bags from you.

“It’s uh, Chicago is a lot different. But it’s good.” You smiled. You were doing great for yourself and had managed to swing a job at a venue/bar that more than enough covered bills, and you had been promoted to a manager position that you proved yourself perfect for once you started bringing in bands that you made commission off ticket sales. “Keeps me busy, that’s why it’s been so hard to get back home. But I couldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday, so here I am!”

“Your bed is already made, so stay as long as you want to. Or can, whichever. Robin’s upstairs getting ready.” You thanked them and skipped up the stairs to her room, the door cracked open and you could hear her on the phone mumbling and then saying goodbye as you chose to open the door.

“Wow, you look-” she turned around with a grin on her face as she saw you appear in her doorway.

“Tired? Old?” You laughed at yourself.

“Hot.” She looked you up and down, and you guess you’d changed your look some since you moved. You leaned more into the style you wanted to in the freedom of your new city, adorning your skin with a few of the tattoos you had always wanted, wearing darker and edgier clothes. There weren’t as many judgmental eyes like you’d been under in Hawkins, especially like when you were dating Steve.

“Thanks. You look the same, but more… you. But of course, not a day older.” You hugged your friend and kissed her on the cheek. “So what are the plans for tonight? Dinner, then…?”

“Dinner, then Hideout? Eddie’s playing a show tonight and it’s almost sold out.” She stated as she finished up her lipstick.

“What?!” Your jaw dropped, you’d kept in touch with almost everyone, including him, but he’d completely left that out of his phone calls updating you on his life. “Sold out? I mean, they’re good but-”

“He just got signed by a small label in uh, in Chicago. So everyone is really excited, it’s kind of a big deal show for them.”

“What?! Why wouldn’t he tell me that?!” You and Eddie had regular phone calls- they had become weekly, sometimes a few times a week just to catch up with each other.

“Don’t tell him I told you, he really wanted to tell you tonight but you know I can’t keep a secret, so I had to tell you before dinner. Also, Steve-is-coming. So the show is basically their congratulations on signing, and my birthday dinner is how we got you back here to celebrate both. Because we knew you wouldn’t come back for any other reason.” Robin couldn’t have talked any faster than she was, and once you realized everything she had said, your stomach sank.

“That’s fine, I kind of expected that he’d be there. I know you guys are still friends.” You’d gotten over Steve- sort of. The guys in Chicago were hotter- way hotter, and you were meeting plenty of distractions to take your mind off of how Steve had broken your heart. You just… hadn’t talked to him in over a year. You knew very little about what was going on with him except for the fact that he was following in his dad’s footsteps, and you didn’t really care to know much more than that either. “Just promise you’ll sit beside me at dinner.”

“Got you covered. That was Eddie on the phone, he’s gonna sit on one side of you, and I’ll sit on the other. Steve is bringing his girlfriend since he’s back home for the show, too.”

“Is it…”

“Yeah, it’s her.” Robin looked sad as she admitted the truth. “Don’t worry. You look way hotter than her, and you’re not a shit person. Steve’s here like once a month anyway just to see her, so-”

“What do you mean by he’s here once a month?”

“He moved to Indianapolis, his dad got him a job there like last fall? I think? It wasn’t long after you left. And he comes home all the time to visit her since she’s finishing out college here.”

“Oh, so he can move to a big city as long as he’s got a big time girlfriend back home? Nice logic.” You rolled your eyes as you two made your way to your car.

Enzo’s was the only nice restaurant in Hawkins, and it had survived the “earthquake,” so they were still in their original location in the center of town. The big booth had been reserved for your group of friends and you were actually buzzing with a little bit of excitement to see them.

“Hi!!” Nancy peeked around the booth, and you stood up to hug her and Jonathan, and they slid back into their spots.

“Damn, look at you!” Eddie held you at arms length with his Cheshire Cat grin on his face before he pulled you in for a hug, and you wrapped your arms tight around him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” You bickered back at him. You lightly threw a punch to his bicep, “I heard we’re gonna be neighbors?”

“You told her?!” His big brown eyes looked to Robin, who shrugged, as you three slid into the round booth, leaving two spaces on the other side for Steve and his date.

“Can’t keep a secret! You know me!” Robin shouted over you at Eddie as you watched his face turn a light shade of pink.

You patted his leg resting by yours, “I’m really happy for you. If you need a place to play, I know someone that can hook you up, you know that?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna ask but-” You let out a chuckle at Eddie’s bashfulness that hadn’t changed one bit. You knew the guy in charge of booking bands would trust you to do anything at this point, so he would definitely get Eddie on the regular schedule to get more buzz going for him.

“I only have one other person to run that by, and I’ve got him wrapped around my finger. Don’t worry about it.” You felt his hand drop down to yours with a squeeze, at the same time Steve was walking up to the table. You took in his looks- his hair had grown longer, his choice of dress that had once relaxed was cleaned up more than ever. “Where’s your date? Or did you think this was a business meeting?”

Everyone held in chuckles as you roasted Steve’s attire and he looked at you with no semblance of a laugh.

“Robin said Enzo’s, so I dressed nice!” He defended himself as he sat down.

“Oh that’s right, daddy still buys your wardrobe too, so you probably didn’t have anything else to wear.”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie leaned in to whisper in your ear, hand still atop of yours, “Let up on him. This is Robin’s birthday. Now, at my show, you can tear him to shreds.” He winked at you as he leaned back into his seat, not letting his grip go.

Dinner went as expected, actually better, you were all laughing and joking like you hadn’t been absent the entire last year. You avoided Steve’s gaze all night, focusing on anyone else who was talking, and you looked at your food when he spoke up.

A small cake was brought out for Robin, and all of you sang happy birthday with smiles on your faces as Eddie put on a complete show for everyone in the restaurant, for which he received applause for. He was never one to care about what anyone thought of him, but it still surprised you he had the confidence to be so loud in such a nice setting.

“Separate or together?” The waitress came around after everyone had finished their meals and cake.

Steve reached for his wallet, “I’ve got everyone.”

“No, I’ll get mine.” You reached for your wallet, but a familiar hand stopped you.

“I’ll get the two of us, and he can get everyone else.” Eddie spoke, handing the waitress cash. The table was awkwardly silent.

“Smoke?” You asked him, and he gladly nodded his head, and you forced Robin to get up, so you two could go outside for a moment. “So what was that check thing about?” You held your cigarette to your lips, and Eddie leaned in with his zippo to light yours for you before he lit his.

“Just wanted to remind him what an ass he can be sometimes. You smoke now, big city?”

“Comes with the territory, I guess.” You rolled your eyes and laughed as you both smoked half of your cigarettes on the quiet sidewalk. You stared down at some of the repaved concrete and traced the cracks where the old met the new. “When are you and the guys moving?”

“Well, I was going to ask you. So Robin must have left out that the label kinda… only signed me. Like just me, and they’re setting me up with a band. So I’ve gotta be there as soon as possible to sit in on auditions and-” he was absentmindedly scratching his head as he was talking 90 miles a minute.

“What? Only you? What about the rest of the guys?”

“They’re actually pretty cool with it. They don’t want to move or anything, they want to stay here. I think they’re too afraid to leave their families after everything, and-”

“What about Wayne?” Your heart was a little broken thinking about him leaving Wayne behind.

“Couldn’t be more thrilled for me. He’s still livin’ off that Hawkins Lab hush money, so he’s part time and can come see me whenever he wants.” He took a long drag, before he looked away, then back at you. “Anyways, I was going to ask, I know it’s last minute but can I crash at your place for a tiny little while?” He now scratched at the stubble on his chin and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Eddie, I only have a studio apartment. It’s like, right above the bar.” You thought of how cramped it might be with the two of you living there. You’d come to love your small studio, and you were never interested in ever really sharing your space.

“I know, you’ve told me. I won’t get in your way, I’ll hardly be home when you are. And as soon as I’m there for a few weeks and figure out where I want to stay, I’ll get a lease. I just need some time to look around for somewhere reasonable. I promise in- in maybe less than a month? They gave me a big enough sign on I can pay for your whole month of rent, too. I’m just-“ he stuttered, “I’m actually pretty nervous about going somewhere I don’t know anyone, and I think having a little piece of home with me would be good to keep me centered.” He dropped and kicked out his cigarette at his humble confession, and raised his hands in surrender. “But I totally get it if you don’t want me in your hair everyday, I’ll just get a hotel and-”

You thought about it for a few moments, and you realized it may not be that bad to have Eddie around. You two got along fine, and you talked about mostly everything already so you could cut out the weekly phone calls if he was already there. “You can stay. As long as you need. I’ve got a pull out couch with a mattress, so you’re in luck. I don’t need help with rent, but you gotta keep the place clean, and no random people coming home. I don’t let any of my dates or the regulars at the bar know I live up there because things can get weird, and I like laying low. So if you wanna get with anyone, you gotta do it somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah, because I’m totally swimming in pussy right now.” He scoffed as you two walked back inside, and you were thankful he led the way in because your cheeks were tinted pink at his sarcastic comment. By now, everyone was standing up from the table to head over to the venue for Eddie’s show. You all split up into your separate cars.

“So, did he ask you about moving in?” Robin couldn’t even wait for the car door to shut before she started questioning you.

“Jesus, do you know everything?” You started your car and drove towards the Hideout.

“Yes. I do.” Robin said, excitedly.

“Yes, he did. I told him he can stay there as long as he needs to. Just no random girls or parties or anything.” You left out the comment he’d made about girls,maybe wanting to save it for another day.

“I told him you’d say yes.” She looked out the window, “so… Steve?” You looked at her and shrugged, “what do you think?”

“He looks different. Like he’s just turning into his dad already. Everything he hated, everything he wanted to get away from with me. He’s turning into it.”

“Yeah, he’s uh, a piece of work. Have you thought about talking to him?”

“I have no interest in that. I don’t need to talk to him.” You shut down the conversation as you turned your radio up, driving the back roads to the sketchy bar you hadn’t been to in what felt like years.

“Shots on me!” Steve slammed down another round of tequila shots on the sticky high top bar table you all had sat at to have a good view of the stage. You grabbed one and toasted as Steve remarked smartly, “Oh, so you’ll take alcohol from me, but not dinner? I see how it is.” Your crew were all feeling a bit loose already, the drinks at the Hideout were cheap and you were all buying rounds back to back. You rolled your eyes and shot him the bird as the tequila burned down your throat.

Eddie’s band started playing moments later, and the whole bar crowd turned their attention to the stage. He introduced themselves, announced his new plans, and everyone cheered for him. You were beaming at your friend, the town “freak” who was finally getting his shot at what he wanted in life, and people were seeing him for who he was and not what he was known for that was never true.

“Grabbing another one, you good?” You asked Robin over the loud music as you nudged her shoulder. She shook her head and you got up, pushing your way through the crowd to the bar. You felt a hand on your lower back as you waited for the only bartender to come over to you and jumped, immediately pushing the hand away.

“Couldn’t let you go alone.” Steve was standing entirely too close to you for comfort.

“I’m a big girl, Steve. I’m just fine.” You told your drink order to the bartender after Steve did, leaving you two with a few moments of silence.

“You look good. Like, really good.” You watched as he ran his hands through his hair while he obviously checked you out, clearly nervous to be seeing you again. You caught him staring at the tattoos peeking through your sheer black top.

“Thanks? I guess now that I don’t have to impress anyone’s parents I get to dress how I want.” You were feeling a little extra sarcastic and snippy tonight, but you were a few drinks in and didn’t care.

“Can you cut the shit like that?” He immediately came back at you with sassiness.

“No, Steve. It’s been a year, I had to move on and you broke my fucking heart and I had to fix it myself. You fucked this up on your own.”

“Can I fix it?” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it back.

“No, you can’t. I don’t need you to make things better.”

“Listen, I know I fucked up. Everything here reminds me about it. I regret it all the time- but just think about all the bullshit we’d been through. I wasn’t in a good place.”

“Think about all the bullshit we went through? Steve, I was there too, and on top of it all, I lost my mom. All the more reason for you to not cheat on me- you do realize that was wrong to do to me after everything we’d just had happen to us? I wasn’t okay either, I’m still not sometimes, but I know cheating on my boyfriend wasn’t going to be the proper way to deal with things.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, I shouldn’t have done anything that I did. But you know how my parents are, honey.” He pleaded with his big, soft eyes as the word made bile rise in your throat.

“You have absolutely no right to ‘honey’ me, Steve.” You scoffed. You suddenly remembered his date had never shown up. “Your girl stand you up?”

“No, she can’t stand metal so she’s going to come near the end of the set so she can hang out. It would be nice if you could be cordial.” Steve scratched at his bicep- he’d taken off his nicer shirt and jacket, and was now just in his solid undershirt and his well fitting pants to not stand out as much here.

“Cordial, Steve!? I have to be cordial to the girl you were fucking behind my back, the girl who attempted to ruin my plans to get out of this town? Because guess what? I found out you were a bullshitter about that too. I don’t know how you can stay here or visit so much Steve. I’m so scared something is going to turn to red and dust falling from the sky before my eyes and I’ve not even been here a full day.” You were immediately mad at yourself for confessing something so big to Steve. “I’m not going to be mean, but I’m not trying to make a new friend.”

“I’m sorry.” He solemnly said as he took a sip from his fresh drink. “I’m scared of those things too, I still see it if I close my eyes for too long sometimes.”

“Yeah? Well, I also still see the smug look on her face when I walked into the house that night.” You grabbed your drink and made your way back to the table, where Robin had been watching the interaction the whole time. Steve quietly joined the table a few moments later looking like a hurt puppy, and then he stepped away, leaving his drink.

“You good?” Your friend nudged you in the side.

“Not really, no. But I got some things off my chest, so at least I can say I talked to him.” You drank the rest of your drink down in a few sips, and looked to the stage to distract yourself. “I did say I’d be… not mean once she gets here. But I can’t make any promises.” You started replaying memories of the last time you saw Steve in your head, and you could feel the resentment surfacing again- you remembered the shame you felt when the whole party was looking at you yelling at him, the proud look on the girl's face when she realized that you’d seen the two of them.

Eddie was looking at you with concern. He subtly motioned for you to come over to him. The stage at the Hideout was barely considered a stage, so it didn’t take much for you to get to him, and since he was in between songs, he crouched down while the rest of the guys checked their instruments.

“We got two more songs, wanna go sit in the back? There’s a couch, and more tequila, and no Steve.” You nodded at him, holding back some tears of frustration. “It’s okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” You nodded as he patted your head, ruffling your hair up a little as he stood tall to continue onto the next song.

You sat on the questionable couch in the back room of the Hideout while the muffled music continued on- you’d been back here a few times before but never by yourself, and “security” knew who you were so you were immediately let back. It felt weird, and you felt bad for leaving your friends but you really weren’t in the mood to talk about the past, or try to reconcile it especially since Steve was still with the girl he cheated on you with. Your thoughts were interrupted by Eddie bursting through the door, and then he quickly shut it.

“Hey.” He was out of breath, almost panting as if he’d run back to get to you as quickly as he could but you knew it was from the performance he was giving on stage. “You alright?”

You wiped a tear that was trying to fall as he walked in. “Yeah, I’m fine. He tried talking to me at the bar and I’m just… I’m not interested in trying to keep any type of friendship going between the two of us.” You watched as Eddie wiped the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt, revealing his abdomen that was littered with scars from ‘86. Your stomach sank at the memories. “You would think after everything he’s been through- we’ve been through, he would’ve changed his ways but I guess he hasn’t.”

“Fuck him. I mean- obviously don’t… you already did, but, forget about him.” He poured two shots and handed one to you, you probably shouldn’t take it but the night wasn’t ending anytime soon- they were kicking everyone out of the bar and keeping it open later for the band “and friends”, so you knew you’d be here a while tonight. The tequila burned as it went down, and you wiped your mouth on your am as you handed Eddie the shot glass back.

“It’s hard to forget about him when you guys are still friends with him and I have to hear about him. I always tune it out. I didn’t ever want anyone to take sides. I was an idiot tonight and brought up how I hate being back here, and being so afraid of something else happening from the upside down, and I just feel so dumb for letting him in.”

“You heard me that night, he’s too much of a pussy to leave the comfort of his parents pocket. And I stay away from him as much as I can, I don’t need a charge under my belt after getting my name cleared.”

“Ugh, why does he have to be so fucking pretty though?” Your drunk thoughts were leaving your mouth before you realized it. You thought about his golden blonde highlights, his warm eyes, and how his clothes always fit him just right.

“Because he’s Steve Harrington and that’s who he is.” Eddie plopped down beside you. “You’re really fucking pretty too, though.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly hit Eddie’s arm again, “Stop it. I already said you can crash at my place, you don’t have to get all sweet on me.”

“No, I mean it.” Eddie was looking at you as you looked to your side at him. “You’ve always been pretty, and I’ll be sweet on you if I wanna be.”

“Munson, you don’t have to keep flattering me to make me feel better.” He was one of your close friends too, but he’d been there for you when Steve hadn’t been. He called to check on you all of the time, sometimes more than Robin.

“I’m not just trying to flatter you, I mean it. You’re stunning and you look beautiful tonight.” His hand rested atop yours and gave it a light squeeze, making butterflies appear in your belly.

You mentally told yourself you couldn’t do this again- start crushing on a close friend, and potentially lose them. Especially with him about to be signed to a label and getting better known. Your brain was already running a thousand miles a minute with the way he was looking at you.

“You think so?” You asked with a smirk, and you saw a glimmer in his eye. “Well, you certainly have aged well in the time I’ve been gone too, Mr. Rockstar.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice got deeper as he scooted closer to you and let out a small chuckle. “In one year?”

“I’m too drunk to answer that right now.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Oh no, I love drunk you. I get all the juicy gossip from you after a few drinks. You think I’m not too bad now, eh?”

“You heard me.” You said, facing him and crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I did. And I kinda wanna hear it again.” Was this really happening? In the back room of the Hideout? You’d been a little flirty on the phone with him sometimes, but it was hard to read into what he really meant without seeing him, and you never knew with Eddie because he was always a flirt with everyone.

“I said you weren’t bad, Munson.” You felt your face warming up. “Always thought you were cute, but I was too wrapped up in Steve-”

“‘S just Eddie, sweetheart.” He looked cocky as he interrupted you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear- a classic, cheesy move that made you blush. He looked… good. His curls were wild and untamed, but you could tell he had started to take better care of them recently because they were more defined. His jaw was sharper, his face was capable of growing some more facial hair. His features were showing a little more- the wrinkles by his eyes, the subtle dimples, more freckles. How were you suddenly this close to him?

“Is this a bad idea?” You asked out loud to him.

“I don’t think so.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb and shook his head. “At least not for tonight, let’s have a little fun, yeah?”

You nodded, and leaned in and kissed him. You never made the first move, so you didn’t know how much to put into the first kiss. You felt hesitant, but once you were pulled in more by Eddie’s grip on either side of your face, all hesitancy fell to the wayside. You felt dizzy from the passion that he kissed you with. Both of his hands were practically squeezing your face, and you took the queue to straddle his lap, and he let out a sigh as you rested your weight on his thighs.

“Been wantin’ to kiss you for years now, Jesus Christ.” He chuckled against your lips. “Harrington was so fucking stupid to lose you.” He leaned in again, and you allowed him to take over.

“Alright people let’s go- oh! Oh! It’s happening!” Robin opened the door, making you pull back from Eddie quickly.

“Shut up, Buckley.” Eddie turned to shoo her away, and you blushed at your seat upon Eddie’s lap. “We were just talking.”

“You look awfully close to me. Listen, Steve’s girl is out there now, and I’d rather watch paint dry than sit out there and talk to them. Come out and have some fun, please!” She whined as the two of you stood up.

“Give us a minute, Robin.” You pushed her out of the door and closed it. As soon as you turned around, Eddie was cornering you against the door. “What?” You blushed.

“Didn’t get to finish that kiss.” He grasped you by the side of the neck and pulled you into his lips, hungrier, and needier than the first two times. You were breathing heavily into the heated kiss as your hands roamed his body, he was sweaty but you didn’t care- you were too, from the crowded room earlier. “We can talk later, just wanted to test the waters first.” He smirked as he pecked your lips and reached for the door handle behind you.

As you exited the tiny room, Eddie’s hand fell to your side, where he laced his pinky finger with yours and guided you through the shrinking crowd to the bar.

“Water?” He asked you, pulling your hand up to the bar and lacing his fingers with yours, proudly.

“Yeah, for now.” You said, a sheepish smile on your face. You felt a pair of eyes on you from the corner of the bar where Steve sat with his girlfriend, and you ignored them and focused on the water that the bartender had given you.

“Just ignore him. They’ll leave soon anyway, she doesn’t feel safe here or some bullshit like that. I gotta go pack up my stuff really quick, you good to stay here?” He had moved his hand to your lower back, and you nodded. “M’kay. I’m out back if you need me.” He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, then jogged away.

“Details, please.” Robin quickly replaced Eddie, turning her body completely to you, giving Steve her back.

“What?”

“Oh, come on! You two were kissing!” She was yelling unnecessarily, used to the loudness of the bar before people had emptied out, and you leaned forward to put your hands over her mouth. “And that, before he just left?!”

“SHHHHHH!! So what? I’m a little drunk, and he looks reeaaally good tonight.” You two giggled, “He’s a really good kisser.”

“Knew he had it in him. He’s been talking about seeing you again for weeks. MONTHS! I figured he would’ve tried kissing you at dinner when you two walked out, but-”

“Robin, how can you not tell me that he had a crush on me?!” You wanted to squeeze your best friend.

“How could you be so blind?! He told me it started in high school. Then you started dating Steve, and he got mixed up into our group and he felt bad about his crush because you were with Steve, so he never thought he’d have a chance but now everything is just… falling into place. Meant to be.” Robin was out of breath again because she was talking so quickly and you just laughed at her spilling the details out so quickly- it reminded you of how Eddie would talk when he got really excited about things too.

“You really thought he had no feelings for you? Why do you think that metal head idiot called you almost every day for the last year? To make sure you were okay? No, he likes you. He really, really likes you.” Your friend told you as you turned around to see Eddie walking out the back door of the bar, catching a glimpse of you before he walked outside, carrying his equipment.

Somehow you found yourselves at a house party, because of course, you always did. And it was at Steve’s girlfriends house, because of course it was. God only knows how late it was now, the Hideout had kicked you out earlier. Eddie had driven your car to the house- he’d had the least amount to drink, and you and Robin had sat in the backseat and giggled the whole way. You completely missed the way he was watching and admiring you in the rear view mirror for the 15 minute drive back to town.

“I can’t believe that I thought this was what I wanted.” You drank the mystery juice out of the red cup and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at all of the same people you remembered from school. You noticed how more people were high fiving Eddie, or saying hey to him instead of just calling him “freak”, or using him to buy weed while you two stood together.

“It’s comfortable, it’s stable. You haven’t had much stability your whole life, so I can understand the appeal.” Eddie took a puff from his joint and you politely declined, afraid to mix the two tonight since you were already so deep into drinking alcohol.

“I know but still. This house is fucking gorgeous, you know? They never have to worry about anything like bills, or-”

“But look at how unhappy they are.” Eddie said, pointing out the lack of smiles on some of the party goers.

“You’re just saying that because you’re high and happy right now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m saying that because it’s the truth. They’ve got all the money in the world but they’re still so fucking miserable with themselves they’ve got to keep throwing parties to relive the old days and feel like they’re peaking again.” Eddie rambled on for some more time as you caught yourself staring at Steve. The way his mouth turned up when he smiled- why was it so charming still? “Helloooooo?” Eddie bumped your hip beside you, and you stopped staring immediately.

“Sorry. Zoned out for a bit. Can you hold my drink while I go to the bathroom?” You handed him your cup and he took it, but you giggled as he took a sip and almost gagged on it at the sour, bitter taste.

You were doing the thing in the bathroom where you stared at yourself and realized how drunk you really were. Fuck. You fixed your hair, and washed your hands, and as soon as you opened the door, there was another force behind it that opened it and they let themselves into the bathroom.

Of fucking course, it was Steve Harrington. And you were entirely too drunk for this.

“Like what you see? Saw you staring.” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but blush. He placed his hands on your waist gently and waited for a reaction from you. When you gave him none, he took a step closer. “Only got a few minutes, what do you say? I saw the way Munson was all over you. Probably tried to get his paws on you backstage, didn’t he?” Steve started kissing your neck and you knew you should’ve pushed him off, but fuck did his mouth feel good, and familiar.

“Yeah, and he did.” You fought a moan, but lost once he reached the spot on your neck that drove you wild. It was a secret spot, Steve had found it one afternoon while you guys were lazily making out in his bed, under the sheets, and he used it all the time.

“Bet he didn’t make you feel this good, did he?”

“Steve, you’ve got a girl-”

“She’s upstairs puking right now. I missed you.” He said as he continued attacking your neck. You draped your arms around his neck and he refocused his attention to you. “Please, can I kiss you?”

You should’ve said no, you should’ve walked out before you leaned in and answered his question without saying a single word. The kiss was hot and heavy, Steve’s lips felt different than Eddie’s- they were smoother, and his kiss was softer. You weren’t sure you liked it anymore, but you kept on. His hands roamed your body, and he moaned as he felt you up, your body feeling different than the last time he’d seen you. Your fingers went to his thick, chocolate brown hair and you ran your nails through his scalp, earning a moan from him.

“Fuck I missed you.” He looked at you, and even though he was also drunk, you could tell he meant it.

“Yeah.” You panted, and dodged his next kiss. “I-I can’t do this, Steve. You completely crushed me. I just got over you, I can’t give this another try. I can’t believe I let myself kiss you.” You still had your arms around him, and your fingers were toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“C’mon, honey. You know me better than anyone. I can’t tell her any of this shit I’ve been through, she’ll think I’m fucking crazy.”

“You should have thought about that before you kissed her.” You pecked him on the cheek and left the bathroom, fixing yourself as best as you could as you made your way back to the kitchen. Eddie was making a small deal in there, and his eyes immediately caught yours. You hesitated for him to finish, and he tilted his head to go outside, and you pushed through the familiar sliding glass doors to wait on him.

“Feel good after that?” He asked, his hands tucking into his jacket pockets. “Couldn’t have made that anymore obvious, honey.” The nickname was laced with venom.

“Eddie, I- I really did have to pee, then he came in there to talk and I-”

“The door get jammed? You couldn’t unlock it? Had to make out with king Steve in the bathroom for the door to unlock?” He coughed out a laugh. “I can't believe I thought you might’ve actually been over him.”

“I wish it were you.”

“You know, I know I jumped into the gang pretty late so I missed the beginning history of you two, but-”

You lunged forward at Eddie, shutting him up for once. “Shut up, we made out and all I thought about was how I wish it was you I was kissing, not him.”

“You mean it?” He asked you, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Munson.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Can Robin get a ride home without you?”

“Probably, why?” You asked as the taller, curly haired boy made himself impossibly closer to you- you could still smell the show on him, the sweat, the spilled alcohol, the cigarettes, and you wanted it.

“Because you’re mine tonight, if nothing else. I wanna take you back to my place. Go find her, I’ll be waiting in your car.”

“O-okay.” You nervously answered him and walked back into the house. “Robin!” You pulled her away from a few people.

“Word travels fast. You better get out of here soon, because she already heard about you and Steve.”

“Perfect. Can you get home?”

“Yeah, I can, where are you going?”

“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You jogged out of the house, and towards your car where Eddie was sitting with it already cranked up and running. “She can find a way home, she said.”

“Say less, my dear.” Eddie put his hand on the back of your headrest as he looked back to reverse out of the parking spot in front of the house, then he sped off to the direction of his and Wayne’s shared house. You knew Wayne worked nights still from all of your late night conversations with Eddie.

Your stomach turned thinking about what was going on right now, what was about to happen. And he must’ve known, or been able to read your mind.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep- I’ll even sleep on the couch. I just wanted you out and away from him. I can’t see you getting hurt by him again.” His hand rested on your knee, and his thumb rubbed gentle circles as he drove.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, but I’m high and horny as hell, but I can keep my dick in my pants unlike someone else we know. And you look too fucking good tonight, you told me you got some tattoos but you didn’t tell me you had this many? S’driving me wild.”

You blushed as you watched Eddie run a hand through his hair, something he did when he was nervous. “You left out that you were even more handsome than ever, too.” You commented back, but it wasn’t even the top of surface of what you could say about Eddie and how he’d changed over the last year. You got to his house, the porch light was the only one on, and he hurried with you to the front door since the fall air was creeping in and you weren’t appropriately dressed for it.

“What about your van?” You asked as you walked in, and kicked off your black boots.

“I’ll get it in the morning, they’re used to me leaving it overnight sometimes.”

“Thought you weren’t drowning in pussy, Munson?” You joked as you approached him, your arms reaching up and wrapping around his neck, as his pulled you in by your waist.

“I’m not, but I could be if you’d let me. And I told you, quit with the last name shit. I like hearing my name out of those pretty lips.” Alright, he was smooth. You’d give him that. You both leaned in and continued making out, feeling each others bodies over clothes, shedding jackets on the floor, before he broke the kiss and guided you back to his room. “I swear I wasn’t expecting any guests so just give me a few and I’ll clean up.”

“Honestly it’s fine, I think I’m a little bit too drunk for anything tonight anyway, but don’t think I’m not interested-”

“Hey, I told you that’s fine.” He kissed the top of your head. “I am gonna have to shower and take care of some things before I go to bed but I’ll grab you a shirt so you don’t have to sleep in this getup tonight.” He roamed around his room and gathered a soft Iron Maiden shirt for you, and a pair of plaid boxers from a drawer. “Can’t promise the shirt is clean but I haven’t sweat in it, but it’s the softest one I have.” He tossed them at you before he left to shower, and you changed into them and tucked yourself into his bed.

“Hey.” You felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder, waking you up. My god, the sight that greeted you. Eddie was sitting on the side of his bed, his hair towel dried, he was shirtless, in a pair of boxers, and you could see more tattoos on his torso mixed in with all of his scars. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He chuckled. “Want me to sleep out there? It’s up to you.”

“Nu uh.” You peeled back the comforter and sheets for him and he climbed in, laying down and facing you.

“I need a tattoo tour tomorrow.” He said through a grin. “Show me yours if you show me mine?”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.”

Eddie tucked hair out of your face and looked at you. “Meant it when I said you were beautiful.”

“I’m sorry I kissed Steve tonight.” You felt terrible about it, honestly.

“It’s fine. I almost expected it. The dude gave you no closure. But I can say it feels good to know you wished it were me you were kissing and not him.”

“I don't have to pretend I like acid rock, or that I'd like to be on a mega yacht with important men who think important thoughts. Guess maybe I am better off now that we don't talk. And the only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery, just like I had been when you were chasing me, guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk.”

Chicago->Hawkins, 1989

“Hey, babe. I made coffee. You gotta get up, the studio needs me in an hour, then we gotta leave.” You groaned as you were being woken up, you had worked the bar until 3 am the night before and stayed until almost 4 cleaning up the huge mess. Eddie had left the bar around midnight because he had some recording to do today before you left for Hawkins- Dustin and his friends were all graduating this weekend and you couldn’t miss it.

“But it’s only 10, please let me sleep some more.” You rolled over in your cozy bed, letting the comforter swallow you now that no one else was in it.

Eddie’s month-long stay ended up never ending. You had a breakdown at the thought of him leaving and not being in your apartment every day. He’d slept on the couch for a few weeks, and then one night you told him how you really felt.

The two of you’s relationship had intensified quickly, and progressed to dating after a month of being around each other. It was your first relationship that felt right, that fell into place so easily without any drama, and you were happy.

“You know good and well if I leave you asleep you’re not going to get up. I’m only going to be there for an hour, I just have to sign off on a few things. You still have to finish packing too.” He kissed your forehead as he handed you the warm cup of coffee.

“Do we have to go?” You pouted over your first sip. You wanted to see your friend’s graduation, but you dreaded the inevitable. And Eddie had promised to play a show back at home with the guys, so you’d be spending a few nights there.

“Yes. We do. I mean, you can stay, but you’ll get awfully lonely here, dontcha think?” He leaned in and winked, “remember what happened last time I said I was going to leave?”

“I guess so.” You groaned as you sipped the coffee. “What if I see him?”

“What if? Baby, you don’t need to worry about it.” He placed his hand on your thigh, which was covered by your comforter. “It’s been so long ago, and he’s just there to see the kids graduate too. We’ve avoided him any other time we’ve gone back to see them, haven’t we? He’s not like a monster that’s gonna get you or anything.”

“No, but he’s Steve fucking Harrington and he knows how to ruin a good time.”

Eddie sighed in defeat. He knew how anxious seeing your ex made you, there was nothing you or him could do about it. He changed the way your friend group was forever after he hurt you.

“You get to see Robin though, and we get to stay at her new place!” He tried to cheer you up. “Babe, I really gotta go. Finish packing, take a shower, and I’ll be home before you know it.” He pecked your lips before he left you lying in bed with your coffee and a tummy full of anxiety.

“Presenting the class of 1989!” Principal Higgins announced over the loudspeaker in the gymnasium. You both stood up to applaud the class as you watched them throw their hats in the air- something you remember doing, and you felt Eddie’s arm wrap around you as he pulled you in for a hug.

“You know, I would've shot Huggins the bird if I wouldn’t have been in the hospital.” Eddie leaned in to make you laugh.

“I know. You’ve told me, multiple times. At least you got your diploma.”

“Yeah, because he was sick of me and my satanic worship cult.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled as the two of you exited the gym, waiting for your friends to meet up with you.

Robin and Nancy found you both quickly, giving you gigantic hugs, and asking you questions about how you were doing. A few minutes later, the graduates had made their way over and you watched as Eddie’s smile reached his eyes and he almost squeezed the life out of Dustin. You could tell how proud he was of him, even though he was one of the smartest kids you both had ever known.

You gave him a hug next, “Proud of you, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m an adult now, you know that? I’m going to college soon!”

“Still just little dusty buns to us.” You said and you were pulled into Eddie’s side quickly, almost knocking you off balance. You were used to his clinginess by now, so it didn’t make you think twice about it until you saw Steve approaching the group. Everyone else greeted him like normal, but Eddie just kept you by his side as Steve said a quick hi to both of you.

You knew he had to know or have heard about you two dating. Eddie was on the phone with Dustin when he could, and you were always in touch with Robin and Nancy.

“So, we're ready to party, or what?” Steve clapped his hands together to interrupt the conversation.

“Let’s go!” Lucas shouted and you all split up into your groups. You heard your name being called, and you looked back. Steve was standing there and waved you over. Your heart tugged a little at the look on his face- he almost looked somber.

“You can go talk to him if you want, I’m not stopping you.” Eddie said, “We’ve gotta at least make an appearance at the party at his house. He might have something to say.”

“Fine, but watch if I need you to come rescue me.” Eddie pulled you in for a quick kiss as if he were making sure Steve knew that you were his, and you walked over to Steve with blushed cheeks, and butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey, I just wanted to talk.”

“Figured so, that’s why I came over here.” God, you sounded like a fucking idiot. How could Steve still look so good? You quickly checked him out to see he had dressed in pants that fit him perfectly, a short sleeve polo that was fit to his biceps just right, and his hair looked better than ever since he’d still kept some length on it.

“Are we, are we good?” He was stuttering, something you knew he only did when he was nervous.

“I mean, we’re fine? I guess. I’m over it, I’ve moved on.”

“Clearly.” You could tell the word came out of his mouth faster than he could think about what he was saying, “Are you happy?”

“Y-yeah, I am. He makes me really happy. I’m glad to be out of here, away from all of the past bullshit that happened here. And I’m glad to be away from here, with him specifically. I basically run the bar now, probably going to buy in in the next year or so depending on where Eddie goes with the band, if nothing else it could be some passive income while we’re on the road. What about you?” You kicked at some grass while you waited for his reply.

“Things are good. We just bought a house here, wedding is next year.” That was something everyone had left out of telling you. “Just proposed a few days ago, but the house had been in the works for a little while.”

“Oh wow, congratulations. I’m sure your parents are thrilled.” He looked at you funny, “I mean it this time. I’m not being a sarcastic asshole.” You both laughed a little.

“You look really good. I mean, not trying to be weird but you look like yourself. Like you’ve figured yourself out.”

“Feels like I have, finally. I think getting out of here was the best thing I could’ve done for myself. It feels weird being back here, you know? I wonder how many people really know everything that actually happened. Does she know?” You weren’t sure why you were bringing this up now, but you were curious.

“Hell no, do you know how insane that would sound?”

“I do know, I lived it too.” You said wistfully. You looked back to see Eddie looking at you, and you gave him a small wave of recognition. “I should get back, it was good to catch up.”

“Will I see you both at the house? Still drink tequila?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, still tequila. We’ll be there.” You both exchanged a small hug before you walked back to Eddie, your smile growing bigger as you reached your boyfriend, realizing you’d made some positive progress in your relationship with Steve.

“What was all that about?” Eddie asked as you two walked back to his van. “Took long enough.”

“He was just making sure we were good, and asked if I was happy, apparently he’s engaged and they bought a house together. He just proposed a few days ago.” You said as you hopped into Eddie’s car.

“Weird.” You noticed Eddie’s grip on the steering wheel was tight and you picked at your thumbs out of nerves. You reached up to turn up the radio volume, but he stopped you. He never did that.

“What?” You looked over at him, he was rubbing his face with the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel.

“I might just drop you off and head over to Wayne’s. I’m really not in the mood for a party tonight.” He said, looking straight ahead.

“Eddie, what? I’m not going without you, I’ll just go see Wayne too. You’re the one who said we needed to make an appearance. It’s for the kids, it’s their graduation.”

“Nah, you seem like you want to go catch up more with your old pal Steve.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your boyfriend.

“Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“You couldn’t take your fucking eyes off of him. You couldn’t even hide that you were staring at him, basically drooling over how good he looked.” Silence filled the car. “See, you’re not even going to deny it, are you? You played the whole, I don’t wanna come back here card for all the wrong reasons. You didn’t wanna see Steve because you still have something for him, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t! I’m sorry if that’s what you thought, but-”

“Oh come on, anyone with two working eyes can see the way you were practically undressing him.”

“Eddie, I was not. It was a conversation that we needed to have, it was awkward, but at least now we’re on speaking terms. Beyond that, there’s nothing there with Steve. Yes, he’s still attractive- you’ve even said that yourself but if you pulled over on the side of the road right this second I’d fuck you in the backseat, okay? There is nothing about Steve Harrington that I want anymore. I don’t want that lifestyle, I never did, I thought I did- but I don’t. I don’t want to come home to a guy who won’t let me touch his shirt because it might get wrinkled or ruined, I wanna be with someone who doesn’t care what happens to their shirt when I touch it or tear it off of them. I want to be with you, Eddie. You’re it for me.” You were out of breath, and you looked over to see him staring straight ahead at the road in front of him. “You’re the one who told me to go talk to him! God, just take me to Robin’s if you’re going to be a bitch like this today.”

“Was going to anyway.” He scoffed and you turned in your seat to stare out the window and hold back tears. You two never fought like this. Ever.

Hours had passed, and you and Robin got ready together before leaving for the party at the new Harrington house. You’d changed into something more fun for the party- a mini skirt with tights, your black doc martens, and a cut up band tee from one of the local bands that had passed through your bar one night.

“Eddie’s really not coming?” Robin spoke halfway over to Steve’s new house. She knew the way, so you let her drive. She also said she’d be DD tonight, only having one drink at the time of arrival and nothing else.

“I guess not, he was being so not like himself earlier. He swore that I still had a thing for Steve and that I was undressing him as we talked. Robin, Eddie has said he thought Steve was attractive before. Anyone with two eyes can see that.”

“He’ll get over it, he’s probably just feeling insecure about it because of the last time we were all at a party together.” She brushed it off, but you couldn’t as you bit the inside of your lip.

One hour into the party, and you were drunk. You didn’t know how many tequila sodas with lime you’d had, but it was enough that Robin was already giving you the eye. You spent so many of your nights at the bar not drinking, that you wanted to have fun tonight celebrating the kids graduation before the show at the Hideout the next night.

“Having fun?” Steve slid up beside you as you were pouring another drink for yourself.

“Your bar has definitely improved since high school parties.”

“Where’s Eddie?” He was quick to look around for your boyfriend.

“Oh, I don’t know. Robin and I came here together because Eddie was too much of a bitch to me earlier, saying we were- like you and me- were undressing each other with our eyes while we were talking at graduation, and even though I told him if he pulled over on the side of the road I’d-”

“Whoa, whoa, I don’t need to hear all of that. I was just asking where he was because I wanted to talk to him too. Do you know if he’s coming at all?”

You shrugged as you skillfully cut a lime wedge and tossed it into your cup. “No idea. Guess we’ll have to find out later.”

Later came soon enough, and it happened to be when everyone had decided to jump into Steve and his fiancé’s pool, most of you in whatever clothes or underwear you had on under clothes. No one was thinking twice about it either, since you’d all been friends for so long and were a little more mature about this type of thing. And you were all pretty drunk at this point in the night, too.

“Cannonball!” Dustin yelled as he jumped in, splashing you and Robin for the tenth time tonight.

“Uh oh, the fun just got here.” She said to you as she pointed her finger towards the back gate. You watched as Eddie opened the gate and stalked over to the pool, and scanned the pool of bodies for yours. Your back was to him, so you secretly hoped he wouldn’t see you, maybe? You were at the point you would’ve been happier going home alone with Robin and he stayed at Wayne’s.

“How’d he find the house?”

“The uh, invite is probably on my fridge or something. I left a key under the mat in case I wasn’t home yet when you guys came by to drop your stuff off, so I can only assume that’s how he has the address?” You couldn’t hear what she was saying as you blankly stared at her, feeling Eddie’s eyes on your mostly bare back.

You heard him say your name loud enough for you to hear, but you ignored him and took another sip of your drink. He repeated himself, but louder and you felt like a child getting in trouble with their parents.

You slowly turned to look at him, and he was crouched by the edge of the pool. He curled his finger at you to come towards him. You waded through the pool and with each step your stomach felt sicker and sicker- you wish it was from the alcohol, and not your nerves.

“You decided to show up?” You joked, leaning against the pool.

“Why the fuck are you in your goddamn underwear in Steve Harrington’s pool? Get out.” His voice was thick with disgust.

“No, I’m having fun.” You shook your head.

“Come on, we’re leaving.”

“I’m having fun with Robin.” If you could stomp your foot like a child right now, you would have.

“Do you want me to drag you out of there? I don’t want his eyes on you.”

“Not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.” Suddenly Steve was beside you- a safe distance, but enough to hear the conversation. “Got a problem, Munson? Didn't wanna come party?”

“Fuck off, Harrington.” He spat at him, and you were disgusted by both boys pissing contest. You heard a swoosh of water, and suddenly Steve was pushing against the edge of the pool to climb out. Dripping in water, in his boxer briefs, he stepped closer and closer to Eddie.

“She’s having fun, leave her alone.” Steve stated boldly.

“I can make my own decisions.” You tried to hoist yourself out of the pool and you miserably failed. Eddie stepped over to offer his hands, and you took them to skip having to walk over to the pool steps. Very quickly, Eddie was shrugging off his jacket and draped it over your shivering shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed and out of here.” He tried to coax you but you hesitated.

“Why didn’t you come here sooner?” You asked.

“We’ll talk about it in the car.” He said, pulling on your hand gently. Steve looked between the both of you, as his fiancé walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Of course her underwear was more intriguing than yours- it probably had cost Steve a fortune and a half to purchase and it was the type that probably would be ruined in pool water.

“I want my question answered Eddie. I was waiting all night for you to come here, and-”

“I said, we’ll talk about it in the fucking car.” He got in your face and spoke through gritted teeth. You had absolutely never seen him like this- and then you saw it. His eyes were bloodshot- and not from weed, red from crying.

“O-okay.” You agreed and quietly followed, grabbing your clothes on your way out. You didn’t bother putting them on, you just climbed into the car and Eddie turned the heat on as he started to drive off slowly.

“I went to see Wayne and he told me that my dad died. I don’t know why I’m so fucking upset, I hated the man, but-” you put your hand on his leg as he choked on a cry.

“It’s your dad, shitty or not, it’s still your dad.”

“Then, to see you, in your underwear, in the guy who broke your fucking heart into a million pieces pool while I’ve spent the last year of my life helping you put them back together all while falling in love with you, I just- I don’t fucking get it, man.” He was doing the thing where he cries but laughs it off because he’s so upset. “I thought I was past this, thought we were past this but I guess not.” The rest of the ride was completely silent. Eddie took a deep breath as he stopped the car in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex. “Please tell me you’re over him.”

“Eddie, I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“I can’t take you lying to me.”

“Do you want me to say I still love him?! What kind of answer do you want from me, Eddie? I’m telling you the fucking truth. I let you move into my place, I sleep beside you every goddamn night and even before we were officially dating, just the thought of you not being feet away from me on that stupid pull out couch was enough to make me realize I wanted you, you’re the one I want. I don’t want that life Steve has, I’ve told you time and time again. I’m so fucking happy with you Eddie. I don’t want the fancy cars, the big trips, the overcompensating with a big house. I want our life we have right now, the one we’ve made over the last year. This is why I don’t like coming back here, because it brings up all of this old shit that has settled like dust already. I don’t want anything to do with Steve Harrington anymore. Okay?”

“Okay.” He answered, and turned off the car. He slowly got out of it, and walked over to your side to help you out- your ass cheeks had stuck to the leather of the seat and he walked behind you to keep you decent.

The next morning came and went quickly, all three of you were far too hungover to do anything more than to eat junk food and watch movies in Robin’s living room. The shrill shriek of her phone made all of your heads pound, and she couldn’t get up off the couch quick enough to answer it.

“Yeah… she’s fine. Uh huh. He’s here too. Okay. Ooooookay, then.” Robin hung up the phone and sat back down. “Steve’s not coming to the show tonight, he said he’s sorry.” Eddie sighed a sigh of relief, and you swallowed loudly enough to make him look at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, just… feel like I’m gonna be sick.” You hopped up and ran to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut. About ten minutes later, you heard a knock on the door and the door slowly opened and you looked up at Eddie from the seat you’d taken on the floor. He joined you, and asked if you were okay.

“M’fine, just drank too much last night. Don’t let me do that again tonight.”

“Well, Steve won’t be there, so I don’t suspect you’ll have to drink away your feelings.” He muttered as another hurl came up, and Eddie held your hair back for you.

“I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost, and what it cost- now that we don’t talk.”

1993

You fixed your eyeliner in the mirror with the shakiest hand you’d ever had. You messed up again, and muttered a “fuck” loudly to the room of your closest girlfriends.

“Let me help, your eye is going to be raw.” Nancy sat down on the bench beside you and you turned to her in your white silk robe to let her fix your makeup.

“Probably going to cry it all off anyway. When I went out to grab drinks, Dustin said Eddie’s a wreck too.” Robin chimed in and you looked at her quickly.

“Nervous? Is he going to call it off?” Your stomach churned at the thought of it.

“The man would do anything for you. I think we’ve all seen that over the last few years. Now, sit still before this eyeliner wing ends up in your hairline.”

It was yours and Eddie’s wedding day, finally. You’d both opted for a small wedding, with his bandmates, old and new, your closest group of friends, small family members, and no one else. Eddie and his band had blown up the music scene over the last few years, and you’d been along for the ride the entire time with him- all of the ups and downs. A big wedding was something you never wanted, and with his newfound fame, it made more sense to keep it small and intimate.

Your hands were shaky as you paced the now empty bridal suite, surely you’d worn the carpet down by how many times you’d walked back and forth. You didn’t know why, but you just felt something was off. You mentally checked everything off on your list and you weren’t forgetting anything. Your handwritten vows were in the hidden pocket of your dress, Robin had Eddie’s ring, and Dustin had your ring.

Then came the knock on the door. You hesitated, not wanting it to be Eddie trying to sneak a peak in your moment of solitude before the ceremony.

“Who is it?” You asked through the thin, wood door.

“It’s me, Steve.” The voice on the other side was shaky as he spoke. You hadn’t seen him in a while, probably a few years actually. He’d gotten married, but Eddie was on tour so you couldn’t make it back home. The weekend of Steve’s wedding was actually one of the only weekends Eddie didn’t have a show, but you didn’t question Eddie when he said he needed to have a weekend off and not go home for the wedding. You didn’t want to go alone, so you stayed back too. “Mind if I come in?” He sounded scared, but he probably was. There had been absolutely no communication between you two in a very long time, and it was all on your side.

“Yeah sure, but not for long.” You opened the door to see him standing there, dressed smart as always.

“You look absolutely stunning.” He took in the sight of your intricate lace gown that showed off your tattooed skin, and complimented your body shape perfectly.

“Thanks, but I don’t think you should-”

“You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t be here, so I’m not. I’m leaving, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Clearly you don’t want us to be friends, so I was shocked to even receive an invitation to your wedding, but after thinking about it more, and now seeing you- I really don’t need to be here. I talked to Eddie, and he had a letter to give to you, so he gave it to me to give to you before I left.”

You paused before speaking, and you looked at the man who stood before you holding a letter from your almost husband with shaky hands. He’d changed a little bit, but you both had. His scars on his face were lighter but still there, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told his wife how he got it yet. Had she even asked yet how he’d gotten any of them, at that? The golden highlights in his hair were still there, shiny as ever. And his eyes were warm, warm like his nickname for you- honey.

You were speechless as you continued to stare blankly at him, your mouth couldn’t form any words, except “Thank you. Bye, Steve.” He nodded, smiled, and walked away, and out of your life forever.

You decided you couldn’t be friends as you watched him walk away, with all the things you’d lost- like the pieces of your heart that you’d never get back, that he’d taken without asking. You watched him through the window as he wiped an eye, hoping it was the wind causing the tear, but by the way his hair stayed in place you knew it wasn’t. But you knew he’d felt the same way, come to the same conclusion.

You couldn’t be friends anymore, you couldn’t even talk.

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