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pullhisteeth · 10 months

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wise words | eddie munson

summary Eddie f*cked up (royally) and has to work his ass off to get you back. based on a swift song obviously [4k]

contains 18+! fem!reader, a bit of fuckboy!eddie, angst, arguing, grovelling, hurt/comfort, crying, eventual fluff, suggestive themes/allusions to smut, Robin and Steve being disappointed but supportive pseudo-parents

He’s standing on your doorstep.

He’s standing on your doorstep and he’s shaking. Like a fucking leaf.

He looks down at the flowers wrapped in cellophane and thinks, are they good enough?

Am I good enough?

Will anything ever be good enough?

Thick drops of rainwater run down the plastic and coat the pink petals and he resolves that no, they’re not good enough.

He knocked twenty-three seconds ago. He knows this because he’s counting, keeping himself grounded.

Twenty-four Mississippi.

Twenty-five Mississippi.

Twenty-six Miss-

The door swings open quickly, almost impatiently, as though there wasn’t nearly half a minute between the knock and the response.

He looks up and when his eyes meet yours he knows for sure this time that this was a bad idea.

“Are you insane?” you ask him. Concern cuts through the irritation, leaving those creases by your eyebrows he’s so familiar with.

He doesn’t respond, his mind elsewhere. He’s desperately trying to pull it back but it’s running fast, back to yesterday evening.

“Eddie, seriously,” Robin says, impatient, “you have to do something. This is getting ridiculous, and besides, she’s crazy about you, even if you did royally fuck up, and- Hey!”

“What Rob means to say,” Steve interjects, giving her a swift and clean elbow to the ribs, “is that you’ve gotta grovel, man.”

“But it’s been so long,” Eddie whines, running his hands over his face, a pattern he has grown accustomed to over the past few months. A fed-up, miserable routine of lamenting his deepest regrets to his patient but equally-as-fed-up friends over beers on the nights you’re too busy to join them. “I can’t- I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Here,” Robin says, laying her palms flat on the table, fingers splayed. She pushes herself up, weight on her hands, and leans over Eddie. He stares up at her from behind his own fingers and winces quietly. “You love her, right?”

“Yes,” he responds, voice muffled under the heels of his hands.

“And she loves you-”

“Does she?”

“-and we know this because we’re her friends.”

Eddie’s eyes flit to Steve, whose face is drooping with sympathy. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of a Robin Buckley lecture knows the feeling, and he has had his fair share.

“So what you gotta do,” she continues, dipping her head to regain his attention, “is apologise.”

“I tried that-”

“Properly.”

At this he gives in, huffing a sigh and dropping his arms to fold in front of him, quickly enough to catch his head as it drops to the table like an anvil. He hears Robin return to her seat, and then feels gracious fingers on his elbow.

“Eds, man, it’s gonna be fine. You’ve just gotta fight for it.” It’s Steve, being soft as ever, so desperate to see his two friends happy that he’ll relinquish himself to his affectionate side.

“I want to,” he says, voice muffled again by the denim of his jacket sleeves. “But she deserves better than me.”

“Tell her that,” Robin suggests, voice far softer now. “Tell her you miss her, it’s been a long time, and that you were scared.”

She’s clever, Eddie thinks, pulling that gem out from the archives. On a particularly bad night, maybe two months after it had happened, he’d admitted to them the truth at the heart of all of this: he’s a scared boy, one who resolved while young that he would never fall in love, never let the walls down, for fear that he’d have to endure loss any more than was necessary. Your love had driven him mad and fear had driven him away, and now he avoids three diners and nearly all of the gas stations across Hawkins, schedules doctors appointments at the most inconvenient times and definitely never steps foot in the movie theatre downtown.

“She’ll come around,” Robin tells him kindly. When he lifts his head, eyes regretfully filling with that hopeful spark, she says, “She’s mad, don’t get me wrong. But she’ll come around. You just have some work to do.”

“And for what it’s worth,” Steve says in a cadence that worries Eddie enough to make him lift his head back up again, looking at Steve’s stern expression, “she does deserve better than you.”

“Stop, Steve, seriously-”

“She deserves better than you if you can’t find the fucking courage to go get her back.”

Now, standing on your front doorstep, looking at you for the first time in half a year, Eddie knows Steve was right. He doesn’t have the balls to do this; he’s too afraid of rejection, and more specifically rejection from you, and this was a bad idea. You deserve better.

He barely notices when you step one pace to the left, and when you speak your voice sounds like it’s coming from the other side of a thick wall.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay out there.”

He moves without thinking too hard, because you’re right - it’s cold as fuck out here and he’s grateful for the humming warmth he can feel coming from inside your home.

“Just stay there, I’m gonna get some towels.”

He feels pathetic, standing in your hallway, dripping wet like a fucking dog, gripping so hard onto the flowers that his knuckles are turning white. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, afraid of getting anything in your house wet, but acutely aware of how stupid he must look.

You come back around the corner with two big bath towels in your arms. They’re white and Eddie feels the burning shame of ruining them but says nothing, remaining tight-lipped and letting you clean up the floor. When your fingers curl around his tense ones he stares at you, at the strange, unreadable look on your face, and feels the jolt of a thousand volts carry down his fingers and into his shoulder. Where your fingers made contact you leave a sensation not unlike carpet burn.

“These are pretty,” you tell him, gently pulling the flowers from his grip. The cellophane crinkles and it slowly brings him back to this, to you, and he nearly chokes on air.

He says your name, a pathetic sound followed by even more pathetic noises, and when you smile, tight-lipped just like him and brows turned down, he cracks, voice failing him as he stumbles.

“Get your boots off and meet me in the kitchen,” you say, your face unreadable as ever as you turn on your heels and step back through the open door he knows well.

You leave him bewildered, like a soldier in the wake of a bomb, but he eventually comes to and does as you say. He debates leaving them outside, to cause you the least bother possible, but decides instead to leave them on one of the towels by the door.

His socks are soggy, slipping on the hardwood as he treads softly through your home. The reaction his gut is having to being here is ugly, so he breathes in slowly through his nose and wipes rainwater off his cheek with the back of his hand.

You’ve got your back to him, standing over the sink. At first he thinks you’re sorting the flowers, the way you always do - wrapping off, stalks trimmed, vase filled - but then he sees that, instead, you’re gripping the porcelain. White-knuckled.

For the first time he gets a look at you, or the back of you at least, because he’s pretty sure you haven’t heard him come around the corner. You’re much the same as before, except for the way you’ve cut your hair, and the fact that he remembers you in pretty sundresses and tennis shoes but it’s December, so you’re bundled in a jumper and sweats.

“I, uh-” He stammers, words catching on the edges of his teeth. He says your name again and watches you flinch. “It’s- It’s been so long, I-”

“Yeah,” you breathe, shoulders relaxing and grip loosening. You turn and lean back on the sink with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Just so you know,” he starts, and he can feel it, the fucking sarcastic tone that he can’t seem to shake. It comes out whenever he has to be genuine and it’s like someone else somewhere is pushing his buttons, controlling what comes out of his mouth. “-it’s been the, uh, the longest six months I think... ever.”

You look at him, more than familiar with this tone and this game.

“Yeah,” you say again.

“I don’t really know how to-”

“Eddie,” you bite, words like venom. “Can I ask you a question?”

As he nods his head, a little bemused, you gesture to the kitchen table. He catches on and sits at the chair closest to the door as you mirror him on the chair opposite.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

You rest your crossed arms on the table and lean on them, peering at him.

He breathes in slowly.

“To apologise.”

You scoff and he flinches, recoiling at the sound.

“And how’s this one gonna be different to the other hundred apologies?” You spit the word, as though it bears no meaning. At this point, and when it comes to Eddie, it almost doesn't.

That’s fair, he thinks.

“You are such a fucking jackass, Eddie Munson,” Robin barks, raising her arms in defeat. She’s pacing the aisles of Family Video while he sits on the counter and Steve loiters behind it, sorting tapes. “A jackass, seriously!”

“I get it, Rob, thanks,” he drones.

“No,” she snaps, feet finally finished being aimless and instead marching her over to him. She stands somewhere close to between his knees and if it weren’t Robin and she weren’t about to grill him for all he’s worth, it might be endearing.

She jabs her index finger into his chest, straight to the centre of his sternum.

“You’re a piece of shit. An asshole. A douchebag. And I’m allowed to call you all of these things because it’s me who gets the phone calls at two in the morning when she’s crying over you. Again.”

He drops his gaze, his hair covering her wrist and his face.

“Why’d you do it, dude?” Steve asks from behind him. “Like… I just don’t see the… Goal, or whatever.”

Eddie groans and tips his head back, staring uncomfortably at the ceiling tiles.

He wonders for a brief moment, before answering, why the two of them are still friends with him. Clearly his end goal is being as inaccessible as possible, keeping everyone at such a far distance at all times that he can never feel remorse, or that he’s letting anyone down. But now he’s here, with his friends, and he’s let them down and, worst of all, let you down, too. More than ever.

“I was trying to make it better,” he says, and the jab to the sternum comes harder this time, and is the full brunt of Robin’s fist rather than her finger.

“That is bullshit,” she says.

“I was!” he maintains, exasperated. “I just… I started trying to explain myself and I just couldn’t tell the truth.”

“So instead you told her you never want to see her again?!”

“I-”

“How does that help literally anything?!”

Robin’s right, of course. She’s always right; too smart for her own good, Eddie’s always thought. But he doesn’t have an answer for her.

“She’s better off that way anyway,” he says, sighing.

He blinks at you, studying your stern expression, before answering.

“I wanna be honest with you,” he begins, “like, actually this time. And I know it’s been ages and that I have been…”

“Awful,” you suggest.

“Yeah, awful-”

“An asshole. The worst. Evil. Cruel. Mean.”

“Right,” he says, nodding limply. “Yeah. That.”

You lean back, arms still crossed like armour.

“I want to get this right,” he admits, surprising himself, “and I’m trying to work out how.”

You also seem taken aback by this, brows raising just a bit, your eyes going wide. You don’t say anything, though.

“I want you to know how sorry I am,” he continues. He’s sitting rigid in his seat and can’t find something to occupy his fingers, so he begins twisting a ring around one of them. “But, like, I don’t know how to get that across… The flowers were, uh, step one, and this is step two… I, uh…”

He’s stumbling again, searching for the words in a sea of insecurity and unsteadiness. You wait, sitting still and breathing shallow.

“I think I- I was scared.”

“Of what?” you ask, taking him by surprise. He was expecting a vast silence that he would have to fill with pleas, excuses, sorries and truths. He thought you’d leave him to it and let him down slowly at the end.

“Uh, of you. Of us, I guess.”

“What?”

He leans forward finally, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to-”

“Try,” you say flatly.

He looks up at you, unsure.

“Try to explain it. You haven’t even tried.”

Deep, heavy breath in.

“Eddie, you can’t, I don’t-”

“Fucking stop it,” he bites, arrowhead words ripping you open.

“I don’t understand,” you try again, voice thick with tears and your throat closing in. In fact, everything is closing in.

He’s leaving.

“Exactly,” he spits, pulling his shirt on. “Just… I’m going.”

“But-”

He’s out of the door, jacket in arm, before you can protest any further. Your mind is racing, spinning out in search of something that you could have done to fix this, or else something you could have done to cause this.

But you’re coming up empty, because you’d spent the day the same as any other day this summer: in your bed, entwined, wayward fingers and lazy kisses. Sweet nothings splashed in whispers across bare skin, and-

Oh, you think. Oh.

“When you said you loved me,” he begins, wincing at his own honesty, “I just… I freaked, it was scary. I… Honestly, the main problem here is that I was fucking scared. I am scared. I don’t know how to… How to love, or whatever… How to do it right and not hurt you, or me, or both of us. I’m useless, it’s why I’ve never bothered before and I knew, even before we started hooking up, that-”

“Hooking up?”

He looks at you, pulling his eyes back from their wandering, to find you bitter and your face contorted in disgust.

“You call that hooking up?”

“I mean- I-”

“If you think we were hooking up, that’s bad enough, Eddie. Hook ups don’t last three months.”

“No,” he sighs. “They don’t. I think I’m… Trying to make myself feel better about it.”

“You don’t deserve that,” you tell him, and though it’s cutting and it should hurt, your voice is so kind so suddenly that he can’t help but lean into it, tugging gently on the hands of care it extends to him. “You left me, after months of stringing me along. I was basically your girlfriend, without the labels or whatever. There isn’t another word for what we were.”

“No,” he agrees, dwelling for a moment too long on those moments of domesticity, the quiet mornings drinking coffee on your front lawn, the afternoons spent hanging the laundry and throwing stray socks at one another. “And that was fucking scary. I was way too scared, when you said you loved me that morning, way too scared to admit what I really, really wanted.”

“Which was?” you ask, arms still firmly crossed.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “You know what I-”

“Say it.”

“You-

“Say it.”

He breathes, defeated, and looks at you dead in the eye.

“I love you,” he tells you. “I loved you then, and I love you now, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

You deflate, your arms going lax, face surprised as though you didn’t expect him to actually do it, to rise to your challenge and be honest. For a flash, he feels smug, but then he remembers-

“I love you,” he repeats - the feeling of the words rolling off his tongue is unbearable, they’re too heavy, they won’t stop falling - “but you deserve better than me.”

You breathe sharply through your nose in frustration.

“Why are you here then?”

“What?”

“If I deserve better than you,” you repeat, finally releasing the tightness of your crossed arms and planting your palms on your knees, “why are you here? To torture me? Not satisfied with the last six fucking months, huh?”

“No, I-”

“Well, Eddie-” You spit his name like it’s gone bad and it twists something inside him. “-I’m fucking fed up of you and your… How mean you are. You’re always so mean to me and I hate that I cried over you for weeks-”

The door swings open and Robin rushes inside, expression tight with fear and worry.

She calls your name in a tone that drips affection as she rounds on you, where you’re standing with your weight on the wall and a hand over your face. By now it’s puffy and uncomfortable, your cheeks raw from wiping them with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“What happened?” she asks, holding you like you’re about to break and moving you across your house to the couch. “Did you argue? Or-”

“He left, Robs. Just left.” You sigh and it heaves like you’re sat under a crate of bricks. Robin’s heart aches, nearly cracks in two at the sight of you and the fury she feels for her stupid, good-for-nothing metalhead friend.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, wrapping you up in strong arms. As she rocks you, you cry, and she kisses the crown of your head and tells you, without much belief in it herself, that it’ll be okay.

“Steve’s on his way,” she says after ten or fifteen minutes.

“It’s okay, I’m-”

“We’re gonna stay here,” she says quickly, “just for tonight.”

You look at her, eyes glassy, and as you speak your voice cracks. “I love him, Rob.”

She looks back at you sadly, fingers gripping your hands. “I know.”

You’re on your feet now, pacing back and forth and he’s watching, transfixed, as your shoulders move up and down, powered by rage, understandably.

“-I cried so much because I had spent weeks working up the courage to say that to you, to admit it to you and to myself because you’re so cold, Eddie. You’re so cold and distant and I still managed to fall in love with you.”

It’s at this point that Eddie’s drifting eye, which is following you back and forth, lands on the cluster of picture frames on your windowsill. He recognises most of them - photos of the group of you, up by the lake or in Chicago, some of your family and others at special occasions. But one of them calls to him loud enough to pull his eye from you completely.

It’s a silly frame he found at the thrift store. It’s hand-painted in gaudy colours, brush strokes in swirls and bursts of yellow and purple and green. And behind the glass is a picture Wayne had taken one day when you were at his trailer, watching movies on the couch.

It’s a polaroid, as most of your photos are, bright cracks of colour and light caused by the window right by his head - his head which is looking straight ahead, big wide grin and happy eyes, and you beside him, hands on one of his thighs, pushing yourself up to kiss his cheek.

It’s only when you stop pacing and, more noticeably, stop talking that he realises anything is wrong. His face is wet and there are new drops of water on the table - not the drying rainwater from his hair, but one or two drips from his jaw.

“Are you crying?” you ask, hands on your hips.

“Huh?” He asks, wiping his face with his wrist. “I, uh… Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just-”

His eyes flicker upwards and past you, to somewhere you follow with your own gaze. It lands on the photo and you start, cheeks flushing warm.

Suddenly, the anger lingering in the room, filling the air and his lungs and almost definitely yours, dissipates. It doesn’t disappear as such - you’re still seething, breathing loudly, but it’s like someone cracked a whip and the dust lifted.

He calls your name and you look at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you earnestly. “I’m really, really sorry.”

You breathe out slowly and he watches your chest deflate as you take a step to sit back down. As you sit he rises, stepping over to you on unsure feet. He’s tentative, waiting - expecting - an adverse reaction.

You watch him as he gets closer and lowers himself to the ground.

“You are not about to-”

“I’m not getting on my knees, if that’s what you’re gonna say,” he says, and his tone is light - too light for his liking, but he catches the twitch in the corner of your mouth and something warm blooms in one of the chambers of his heart.

He squats beside you, resting his weight on one hand on the table. He keeps the other to himself, fingers spread over his bent knee.

“I’m an asshole. In fact, I’ve been all of those things you said, and I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry enough for you. But I… I’ve had all this time, and some… intense conversations with Rob and Steve, and I… I want to try to be sorry enough. Or to just make it up to you, somehow. Because I can’t… It’s too hard, doing all of this without you.”

He knows how this must look, him on the ground, soggy socks and soggier hair, staring at you like a lost puppy. But the way your eyes soften, and the familiar feeling of the brush of your fingertips over the damp skin of his bare wrist, is enough to make him go limp.

“What’d they say?” you ask him, watching your own fingers where they trace aimless strokes.

“Hm?”

“Rob and Steve. What’d they say?”

He laughs lightly, embarrassed.

“Uh, that I’m an asshole. In fact, Rob, she made sure to tell me that multiple times. Basically every time I saw her. And Steve, he… He’s such a good dude, you know? But I… I disappointed them, and myself, and you. I hurt you so bad and I don’t know where to put all this guilt I have.”

Neither of you are looking at one another, but you chuckle, thinking about Robin. Her loyalty makes your head spin. And Steve, with his heart of gold, who held you all those times you cried and fought silently between his anger at Eddie and his love for you.

“I love them,” you whisper, your fingers halting. The pad of your thumb hovers over the protruding joint, stroking it softly until you feel the thrum of his pulse under your own. Your fingers wrap the opposite way, until you’re holding his arm like a bracelet.

You squeeze and he sucks a quick breath in.

“You really hurt me, Eddie,” you tell him, lifting his arm off the table. He wobbles and uses his free hand to steady himself on your chair, the knuckle of his thumb meeting the side of your thigh for just a second. You manoeuvre his hand into your lap, where you lay it flat. You both stare at it and all he can hear is your breathing and the rush of blood past his ears.

“I know I did,” he says. “I can go, if you want.”

You hum and begin tracing the lines on his palm. “It’s gonna take a while,” you say.

“What is?”

“Making it up to me.”

His eyes move without permission to your face, where he finds a barely-there smile and the beginnings of the crows feet by your eyes.

“Forever,” he says, knowing you’re right - it’ll take a long, long time.

“Forever.”

“I must’ve been crazy,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Hm?”

Your fingers are still now, resting on his, and he finally moves his own. His knees are burning from squatting and the balls of his feet are digging into something sharp under the linoleum, but he’s not thinking too hard about any of it. He takes your hands in his and holds them, backs of your palms to the front of his. He dips his head and kisses your left wrist and then your right, lingering to feel the thump of your heart.

“I am crazy,” he says. “I let you go.”

“You left me,” you correct him. “I never wanted to go.”

He looks up at you and pales when he sees the tears. Your eyes are wet and red round the edges and he thinks to himself that you’ve been doing this, crying over him, for six months. And it’s his fault.

The two of you move quickly and without thought. His knees buckle, giving into the strain he’s been putting on them for so long, and as he hits the floor he tightens his grip on you without meaning to. You’re pulled off your chair with a yelp and a clatter, landing in his lap with your knee dangerously close to his crotch.

Hands paw and wipe tears and you lift your leg to plant it beside him. As you stabilise yourself his arms come around you, too quickly at first; so quick he worries you’ll push him off, tell him to go fuck himself. They’re met by yours, though, coming around his back.

“I’m sorry,” he says into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

You say nothing, and instead push your face further into his shoulder.

He feels and hears you sniffling, so he pulls you back gently. Some of his hair sticks to your face and you wipe your nose unceremoniously with the back of your hand, scoffing at him when you see he’s smiling at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, looking away.

“Like what?”

“Like… That.”

“I don’t-”

“You have that look,” you say, groaning. And then you reach up to hold his face, and he caves, bowing into you in every way he can. “You’re so fucking pretty and it’s the worst.”

“You’re one to talk,” he tells you, enjoying the way you flush.

“Always the charmer.”

“It’s true,” he says. “Never seen anyone as pretty as you.”

He leans into your palm and twists just so, lips brushing the heel of it in a quick kiss.

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” you tell him, your smile deceiving you only slightly.

“I know,” he says. “But it might help me.”

You’ve been inching closer to his face, and now you’re all he sees. You’ve taken up his field of vision, your breath brushing past the end of his nose.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Wow,” you laugh, “Steve taught you how to be a gentleman since I last saw you or somethin’?”

“Stop- You’re ruining this.”

“Sorry,” you say, still laughing. “You were just never the kind to be so… chivalrous.”

“I’m hardly being chivalrous,” he says, matching your smile. “But now you mention it, yeah, actually.”

You lean back only slightly but it’s enough to make him deflate, unhappy at the new distance.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean… I was an asshole, as we’ve established. Needed to learn my manners again.”

“What did he say?”

“Can we please talk about this later? I just wanna-”

“No,” you say, grinning now. “I want to know.”

He groans, the hand he has spread across your back to hold you up tensing.

“I dunno, he just… He really did a number on me, y’know, telling me how I did everythin’ wrong and that I…”

He’s gone coy and you’re relishing in it.

“You what?”

“I… Steve called me a fuckboy.”

You bark out a laugh so loud Eddie flinches, but then he watches as you carry on laughing, nearly bent double, eyes all crinkled just the way he likes, the way he’s missed terribly.

“What’s so funny?!”

“It’s true,” you say. “It’s so true! Robin, Steve, I mean, we love you, obviously, you’re our friend, but like… They did say when you and me started, y’know… That I was in for it, that you’d break my heart, and I told them they were crazy ‘cause it was just sex, right? But then I realised maybe it wasn’t just sex, when you basically started living here, and we were more like… I dunno, like a couple… But they were right!”

He looks at you, aghast.

“They told you all of that?”

“Yeah! I mean, they were right, huh?”

“Yeah, I just… I didn’t know it was that bad, that they’d be able to notice that kinda thing.”

“You know,” you say, fingers tapping patterns up his chest. “Steve told me somethin’ else, a few months back.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, mind reeling through the thousands of things this could be.

“It’s not bad,” you say. “Well, it’s not one of the bad things. There were still bad things.”

“Right.”

“He said… He said he’s known you for, what, like three years now? And in all that time, before you and me met, you’d always have different girls, were known as a bit of a player at school…”

“Christ, okay.”

“But after you left me, Steve said he’d never seen you be so… Alone.”

Eddie looks at you in shock, so frightened by what else Steve may have said, but also by how you’re relaying this to him. Calm, stoic, unfeeling.

“I mean… I haven’t, y’know, slept with anyone else, if that’s what you-”

“I know,” you say. “I just… It makes it feel more real, you know?”

“I know I’m gonna be spending the rest of my life making sure you know I’m sorry,” he says, breathing out through his nose slowly, “but I mean it. I’ll do it. For the rest of my life. There isn’t anyone else. I’ll forego women, relationships, whatever… ‘Cause I won’t have time. Will be too busy makin’ it up to you.”

He noses at your neck, trying with everything he has to hold himself back from kissing you. The air around the two of you feels thick with laboured breaths and unsaid things - so many unsaid things, things he’ll tell you one day and other things he’s sure he’ll hear from you.

“So can I?” he murmurs into the warm skin above your collarbone, lips only a hair from making contact.

He feels your fingers come around the back of his neck, taking root at the nape where his hair starts. They curl around it, tugging him up, and then you do the dance - the one that always happened between the two of you in these moments. You dip in, so close, and back out, ebbing like a riverbank. It drives him crazy and he knows that you know it, so he smiles, and it’s only then that you finally kiss him.

As you move against him, lips and hands and chest and thighs, he lets his eyes close and his tongue move with yours, and thinks that this - kissing you - is much better when he’s being honest.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things eddie #stranger things fanfic #eddie fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie #eddie fanfic #stranger things season 4 #st4 #robin buckley #steve harrington

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womanwithahotdogstand · 10 months

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All these teams everybody swore up and down were better than the United States and were going to be the ones to “take us out…”

Sweden almost lost to South Africa.

Spain is getting manhandled by Japan.

Germany got punched in the mouth by Columbia.

England only scored on a penalty (that had to be taken twice) against Haiti.

The World Cup is a fascinating because no matter how many times you’ve beaten the shit out of these teams in friendlies, if the day isn’t your day, you’re f*cked. Which is why there’s absolutely nothing like World Cup football. I know it’s hard to believe but we’re still very much in this, guys.

#or we could be the ones who get our whole shit rocked #there truly is no telling what’s going to happen the rest of this tournament #and it’s thrilling #uswnt

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smokeybrandreviews · 8 months

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Lack of Conviction

Episode five of Ahsoka really hammered home how goddamn ridiculous the entire Clone War situation truly was. Watching Ahsoka on the front lines of that Geonosis battle, a fight where she was canonically fourteen or fifteen, was ludicrous back in the original show, but seeing the character in that situation portrayed by the age appropriate Ariana Greenblatt was f*cking jarring. Greenblatt is sixteen years old, splitting the difference of Aksoka’s age range throughout the Clone Wars. She’s as close to a real, teenage, Tano, that we’re going to get and it is wildly apparent that she is a CHILD. The goddamn Jedi Order, was sending child soldiers to fight in a trade war against an analogous Sith overlord and his army of drones. I don’t care how good at space wizarding your teenager is, they are still just a goddamn teenager! And Ahsoka wasn’t the only one. Barris Offee immediately comes to mind! The age you become a Padawan Learner to a Master Jedi is around twelve. That means there were children as young as twelve taking laser shots to the face, not to mention the wholesale slaughter of these cats during Order Sixty-Six, because of a goddamn trade dispute. How f*cking ridiculous is that? Anakin even said the quiet part out loud when addressing Ahsoka’s hesitation. He told her that Obi-Wan trained him to be a peacekeeper, but Anakin was training Ahsoka to be a soldier. That sh*t was the intent. That was the plan. That was the whole dynamic; Train an army of child astro-sorcerers in the ways of war, by throwing them headlong into one. From anyone’s point of view, that’s f*cked up and lends credence to everything Poppa Paps was talking about. Imagine trying to convince the ludicrously powerful Chosen One you’re in the right, when the only other person outside of his mom and wife whom he genuinely loved, was put in his charge to turn her into a weapon. And then when she turned out to be a fantastic one, they cast her aside the second someone gets murdered in those hallowed Council halls. Cats give Anakin sh*t for slaying them Younglings but how are the Jedi any goddamn different? They literally use children until they are used up. I can only imagine the trauma the kids who survived will have to endure. Hell, we’ve seen a few of them already. Ahsoka, Cade from those absolutely dope games, Hera's dead baby daddy, and that one chick from Kenobi; None of who are healthy, well adjusted, stand-up adults! Absolutely emotional train wrecks, the lot of them!

More than that, this episode proved to me just how much of Anakin is in Ahsoka. They mirror each other as much as Ahsoka and Sabine. It's wild to see in live action, especially getting that from Hayden who finally got to play a complex version of Anakin. Clone Wars went a long way to redeeming that character but seeing him actually force a catharsis in Ahsoka was rough. I've seen them cross lightsabers before and it broke my f*cking heart. I've spoken at length about that, but seeing it here? Knowing this is training from a fully fledged Jedi Master Anakin? I cannot articulate how amazing that is. He pushed Ahsoka to her limits. Forced her to confront the grief and guilt she had for being a weapon, for abandoning Anakin. Hayden gave this role so much depth, so much emotion, it was just breathtaking to witness. Seeing him flit between Vader and Sky Guy was almost too much but it very necessary. It was necessary for Ahsoka. She had to see that, to come to terms with that, in order to move forward. She is everything Anakin is, even Vader, as demonstrated by those Sith eyes when she contemplated the unthinkable. Interestingly enough, even channeling the Dark Side like a champ, you can tell Anakin was concerned for his Padawan. Not that he would be killed, Anakin is beyond even that at this point, but that his Padawan, would fall like he did. Ahsoka did not. She chose life and Sky Guy gave her that smirk, telling Snips there was hope for her yet. F*cking everything. That last exchange was f*cking everything. Especially when you take into account that Anakin pulled her into the World Between Worlds to save her life. As a goddamn Force Ghost. What the f*ck does THAT even mean??

#Ahsoka #Star Wars #Star Wars: Ahsoka #Lucasfilm #Sky Guy #Snips

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sevencolorsatlast · 1 year

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Things I’ve said that would probably mortify SAGAU:

"For goodness sake Vile/Swan, I sleep with your boss."

"I have a better idea: Sic the Ruin Guards with rounds of neodymium."

"Tighnari, if you lay a hand on Karkata I will bury you under an endangered plant species."

Approaches Donna as Diluc "Hey lil mama let me whisper in your ear~"

"While we’re here could we give Guy a promotion or something? Poor man's been guarding the gate ever since I got here."

"And so the elderly lesbian polycule learned the true meaning of lantern rite."

What a cursed and sassy Creator/Player, you!

For real though, despite their outward facial expressions being neutral... they are screaming inside on what the heck are you on about. Imagine when you're done talking to the NPCs and teleport somewhere, they are left standing there with the most confused yet horrified look on their faces.

In my case, they (still) hear a lot of shouting/swearing and random things that come out of my mouth when beating the living shit out of the enemies. I blame Floor 12 of Spiral Abyss most of the time. There were times I said weird stuff while exploring, during Archon quests and events too.

It's also funny because I'm bilingual so they wouldn't understand half of the stuff I'm saying.

As far as I can remember what I said were:

"GET F*CKED, YOU PIECE OF SHIT...! Bennett, mah boi, you did a great job!"

(sees Azar for the first time) "This dude makes me want to bury him alive, and I haven't even heard his damn voice!"

(When Yae manages to find a way to infiltrate The Plane of Euthymia and talks to Ei) "...Do you guys need a room? I'm seriously going to yeet myself in the Abyss if this continues."

(Seeing Childe's Foul Legacy for the first time) "Wow... I'm very f*cking terrified right now. Let's see if you can beat a casual Monster Hunter fan, you lil' sh*t."

(dying from Cyno's jokes during the recent Windblume Festival event because my humor is *DEFINITELY* broken) "...My humor's really f'd up- *wheezes*"

"Mona, I really want to name you 'Puddle'! Don't ask me why though." (looks at Silly Wisher)

(using Dehya during her trial because I didn't manage to get her) ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA-

"Dainsleif, my dude... I swear to f*cking god, I'm going to physically manifest in front of you to shake the lore out of your system. Sound good?"

(To my Abyss teams) "If I'm gonna suffer, SO YOU GUYS WILL! NOW LET'S BEAT UP SOME PIECES OF SH*TS!"

#genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #sagau #sagau brainrot #seven's ask

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welcometololaland · 9 months

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VERY NEARLY UPLOADED A PHOTO OF MYSELF INSTEAD OF THIS BANNER LMAO! JUMPSCARE!

Thank you for the tags @cha-melodius @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @birdclowns @lemonlyman-dotcom @iboatedhere NEEDED this, this week and I appreciate all of you! I know most of y'all are Tarlos writers and I'm so sorry but I have no Tarlos inspo this week, but if you like two very intelligent, boss-ass women lightly bullying their brother/brother-in-law (basically), then maybe you will like this! It's from Fifty First Dates (chapter 4 - released on Monday) (thanks to @rmd-writes for beta-ing).

“Can I ask a question?” Nora asks, leaning back in the booth, her eyes glinting dangerously. Alex sighs, the beer in his hand halfway to his lips. “If I said ‘no’, would it stop you?” Nora looks at June, who rolls her eyes. “Of course not.” “Then no,” Alex replies petulantly, taking a sip of beer. “After ant-gate,” Nora continues, now crossing her legs daintily, as if she’s the picture of etiquette and not about to ask Alex some kind of savage, personal question, “why did you not call one of us?” Alex scoffs, almost blowing bubbles from his half-empty beer glass into his face. “Come on,” he says drily, ignoring his near faux pas. “You would have made so much fun of me.” “You told us anyway,” June points out, reaching for her margarita. “And we’re making fun of you now,” Nora adds. “I never claimed I was smart,” Alex protests, even though he has, on multiple occasions, claimed that he is. “Oh my god, Alex,” June groans, tipping her head back momentarily in a very dramatic fashion she definitely adopted after spending too much time with Nora. “You know you’re smart. We know you’re smart. So, why did you elect to go and stay at Henry’s when you could have stayed with us?” “We just wanna know if you boned,” Nora quips, before June kicks her under the table. “Maybe not in that much detail,” June corrects, giving Nora a sharp look as she scowls. “Just a high level run-down.” “Including whether or not you f*cked.”

I know a lot of people have done this already but gonna go out on a limb and tag @kiwiana-writes @cricketnationrise @chaa-kiao @athousandrooms @stutteringpeach @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @celeritas2997 @reyescarlos @sunshinestrand @goodways @fitzherbertssmolder and @watmalik (any art wips?) @three-drink-amy @walkinginland @wandering-night19 @ithilien-writes @freneticfloetry @hoko-onchi-writes @ambiguouspenny and @howtosingit just in case you're interested in an early read!

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #fifty first dates #alex claremont diaz #nora holleran #june claremont diaz #wip wednesday

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catindabag · 4 months

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TBOSAS on Crack short take (76)

*Just another day in the office*

Casca: Satire?

Prof.Sickle: That ain’t me.

Casca: Satellite?

Prof.Demigloss: is that me?😀

Prof.Sickle: No, you’re Professor Dementia Demigloss, remember?

Prof.Demigloss: I remember.

Prof.Sickle: Really?

Prof.Demigloss: No, I don’t remember.

Prof.Sickle: Of course you don’t.

Prof.Demigloss: What are we talking about again? Cheese? Waffles? Are we talking about my waffles?😀

Prof.Sickle: No, it’s nothing.

Prof.Demigloss: But my waffles-

Prof.Sickle: Just keep checking our children’s final exam papers.

Prof.Demigloss: Ok! Another zero for Creed, Breen, Ring, and Plinth!

Prof.Sickle: Which Ring?

Prof.Demigloss: Both.☺️

Prof.Sickle: But Apollo did fine!

Prof.Demigloss: Equality!

Prof.Sickle: You’re cruel.

Prof.Demigloss: Thanks.

Prof.Sickle: That wasn’t a compliment, old man.

Prof.Demigloss: Banana?

Prof.Sickle: Ew.

Casca: Styrofoam, where art thou?

Prof.Click: Who’s Styrofoam?

Prof.Sickle: That’s you, Click.

Prof.Click: I’m not styrofoam.

Prof.Sickle: I know. We all know that you’re little Ms. Satellite.

Prof.Click: I’m not satellite!

Casca: Ah! Satellite, my personal therapist, you’re here!

Prof.Click: My name’s not freaking satellite! It’s Satyria! Satyria Click!

Casca: Whatever you say, Saturday.

Prof.Click: I hate you.

Casca: Hate you too.😊

Prof.Demigloss: I have a question.

Casca: And I don’t want to hear it.

Prof.Demigloss: What score should I give young Mr.Snow?

Casca: A perfect score. Duh.

Prof.Demigloss: Ah! Young love.🥰

Casca: That’s right!

Prof.Sickle: Snow’s a minor.

Casca: He’s my boyfriend.

Prof.Click: Coriolanus?

Casca: Who’s Cornelius?

Prof.Click: Your sugar baby?

Casca: Wrong. My darling Crassus Xanthos Snow is my boyfriend, fiancé, husband, and the beloved mother of my 7 gorgeous children!

Prof.Demigloss: You have kids?

Casca: Yes, I do. I’m married.

Prof.Click: 7 kids?! How?!

Casca: The magical storks of the sacred north gave them to us.

Prof.Click: Really?

Prof.Sickle: They f*cked.

Prof.Click: Dean Highbottom’s not a virgin?!

Prof.Sickle: Yeah, he tragically stole Crassus Snow’s virginity.

Prof.Click: That was real?!

Casca: As my eternal love for him!

Prof.Click: Poor Snowy.😔

Casca: Of course! My darling Crassus and I wanted a big beautiful happy family.☺️

Prof.Sickle: Are you f*ckin’ drunk right now?

Casca: That’s confidential.

Prof.Sickle: Are you?

Casca: None of your business.

Prof.Sickle: You literally smell like a bottle of whiskey.

Casca: That’s my natural scent.

Prof.Click: And posca.

Casca: That’s my special cologne.

Prof.Demigloss: But why are your eyes wet?

Casca: It was raining.

Prof.Sickle: Right. You were crying again, weren’t you?

Casca: No.

Prof.Click: He was crying and shouting in front of the parking lot earlier. I saw it.

Casca: Liar! I’m happy, married, and my totally real, not fake gorgeous children love me!

Prof.Demigloss: What’s their name?

Casca: What name?

Prof.Demigloss: The names of your gorgeous children with Crassus.

Prof.Click: *takes out her phone* Well, don’t mind me.

Prof.Sickle: Stop recording.

Prof.Click: No.

Casca: Um- I-

Prof.Click: Don’t be shy now, Cassy. We’re all ears.

Casca: You’re all mean and I’m not telling!

Prof.Sickle: Then you’re delusional as always, you stupid liar!

Casca: I’m not lying! I’m Casca!

Prof.Sickle: You’re single, unmarried, and miserable!

Prof.Click: Like you, Sickle?

Prof.Sickle: I’m not miserable!

Casca: And I’m married!

Prof.Sickle: No, you’re not!

Casca: I’ve been married to the same gorgeous Snow since our legendary University days!

Prof.Sickle: Then tell us their freaking names, you fool!

Casca: Fine! My gorgeous children’s names are. . .

Prof.Sickle: Are what?

Casca: Crassus the 2nd!

Prof.Sickle: Obviously.🙄

Casca: Casca the 2nd!

Prof.Sickle: Lame.

Casca: Cressida!

Prof.Click: That’s kinda pretty.

Casca: Crasca!

Prof.Sickle: Really?

Casca: Cascada!

Prof.Click: The singer?

Casca: Cassandra!

Prof.Click: That’s cool. She was a princess of Troy.

Casca: And little Crassus the 3rd!

Prof.Click: You named your oldest and youngest children after dear darling dead Crassus again?

Casca: Of course! They were born gorgeous like their mother!

Prof.Click: Crassus was married!

Prof.Sickle: To a woman-

Casca: To me!

Prof.Sickle: When?

Casca: When what?

Prof.Sickle: When did you marry?

Casca: After the war.

Prof.Sickle: Where?

Casca: Over the hills, inside my mansion, under the willow tree.

Prof.Click: Cool. Three weddings.

Prof.Demigloss: That’s so romantic!

Prof.Sickle: Stop f*ckin’ living and swimming in denial!

Casca: How dare you speak to me like that! I’m your nicest boss and my Crassus is the beloved mother of my 7 gorgeous children!

Prof.Sickle: You’re a fool! A fool!

Casca: No salary raise or holiday breaks for you!

Prof.Sickle: F*ck this! *flips a tiny table* I’m going home!

Casca: That’s great! Gym class was yesterday anyway, Sicko!

Prof.Sickle: Do you want me to throw you out of the window?!

Prof.Click: Again?

Casca: You can’t do that! I’m the school’s favorite daddy!

Prof.Demigloss: No, you’re not. I’m the favorite. I can talk to dogs, wild squirrels, and baby cats.

Prof.Sickle: Kittens.

Prof.Demigloss: I’m pretty sure they’re called baby cats.

Prof.Sickle: They’re f*ckin’ kittens, you crusty dinosaur!

Prof.Click: Obviously, it’s me. I’m the favorite. I’m their therapist.

Prof.Sickle: You’re not a f*ckin’ therapist!

Prof.Click: Jealous, Sicko?

Prof.Sickle: You’re an idiot.

Prof.Click: Oh, I’m so hurt. Help me. Someone call Officer Joe. I’m being attacked by Miss Sicko again.

Prof.Sickle: Then come closer so I can properly strangle you and your stupid acting skills while we wait!

Prof.Click: Oh, no! Not my neck! I’m just an innocent little lamb!

Prof.Sickle: Innocent my ass!

Coryo: *walks in* Good morning, Professor Demigloss.

Sejanus: Hi, Professor!

Urban: Yo, give me back my lucky calculator. I need it.

Prof.Demigloss: Hello, children! How can I help thee? Candy?

Urban: No thanks.

Prof.Demigloss: Cheese?

Urban: Ew. I’m gonna be sick.

Prof.Demigloss: Crispus is sad now.

Coryo: Are you still available for our class interview tomorrow?

Prof.Demigloss: Of course! Anything for Crassus Snow and his super rich District 2 husband.

Sejanus: I’m the husband.

Urban: Obviously.🙄

Casca: How dare you! I’m the rich husband! I’m the real sugar daddy!

Sejanus: Suck it, loser!

Casca: Suck a d*ck!

Sejanus: Coryo’s mine!

Casca: He’s mine!

Sejanus: We’re getting married!

Casca: We’re already married!

Coryo: Ew. That’s illegal.

Casca: Crassus?🥺

Coryo: Bye. *runs away*

Sejanus: Wait for me, Babe!

Casca: Crassus, come back! I need you! Our children need you!😭

Prof.Click: Oh, Panem! Poor Cassy Cry Bottom is crying like a baby again!

Casca: Leave me alone, you witch!

Urban: Lol. I’m telling Felix.

Prof.Demigloss: And you, Turban? How can sweet old Crispus help you?

Urban: Sir, it’s Urban and where’s my lucky calculator?

Prof.Demigloss: My dog ate it.

Urban: I hate you! *flips a table and runs away crying* I’m telling Capitol News, you monster!

Prof.Demigloss: Monster?! Call the National Security too!

Casca: So Styrofoam-

Prof.Click: I’m not styrofoam.

Casca: How’s life?

Prof.Click: None of your business.

Casca: Can we talk?

Prof.Click: No, I’m busy.

Casca: I want to talk.

Prof.Click: No.

Casca: Pretty please?🥺🙏

Prof.Click: What do you want?

Casca: Nothing.

Prof.Click: My time or my delicious chocolate waffles?

Prof.Demigloss: Chocolate? Chocolate waffles?! Where?!

Casca: Let’s go talk in my office.

Prof.Click: Let me guess, you want poor alcoholic me to drink whiskey with you while we both wallow in our tears and watch Mean Girls 2.

Casca: Yes, I need my therapist.

Prof.Sickle: She’s not a therapist!

Prof.Click: I am too!

Prof.Sickle: You’re a fraud!

Prof.Click: Sicko, look-

Prof.Sickle: No.

Prof.Click: Are you bullying me because of my high salary?

Prof.Sickle: What high salary?

Prof.Click: You’re super jealous of me and my salary, aren’t you?

Prof.Sickle: Jealous?! Why would I be f*ckin’ jealous of you?!

Prof.Click: Because I get paid more money as a fake therapist than you.

Prof.Sickle: What?!

Casca: Hello?! I need my therapist!

Prof.Click: Got to go, Sicko! Mean Girls 2 and 5 gallons of whiskey are waiting for me inside! Bye!

Prof.Sickle: It’s Sickle! And Mean Girls 2 sucks!

Prof.Click: Whatever you say, sister.☺️

Prof.Sickle: We’re not sisters!

Prof.Click: Best friends! Yey!

Prof.Sickle: Go away!

Prof.Click: Boo. Bye.

Prof.Sickle: *sighs* Peace and quiet-

Prof.Demigloss: Waffles?🥺

Prof.Sickle: No.

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shipcestuous · 6 months

Text

(submission)

Found these.

F*cked by Natalie Knight (twin brothers x sister)

Warren and Ryker. My delinquent twin brothers from hell.

Our father caught them setting the high school athletic center ablaze and sent them away to rot in jail for six years.

But being locked away did nothing to curb their appetite for sin and debauchery.

Now they’re back with a new agenda—fuck, torment, teach—with one thing on their minds: making up for lost time with their spoiled little sister.

Me.

Obsessions: Part 1 by Lily Black (father x daughter)

I wasn’t supposed to crave him, but I do.The more I try to resist, the more my desire grows.One night changes everything because now he wants me too.What we’re doing is sick, twisted, and wrong,but like addicts, we chase the high,but how long until we fall?

Obsessions: Part 2 by Lily Black (father x daughter)

I swore to protect her from the day she was born,and I intend to keep that promise.What we have is wrong in the eyes of many,but I haven’t felt anything this right in my life.But secrets have a way of getting out.Ours could destroy us both.But if the choice is her or walking away,I’ll choose her every fucking time.And God help anyone who stands in my way.

Crooked Cove by Rory Ireland (brother x sister)

Our parents sent me away because they’re terrified that I’ll corrupt their only daughter.They should be.I’ve returned for summertime on the cove.My restraint is hanging by a thread.All it takes is one taste and I’m hooked.I’m the monster under her bed and her saving grace all rolled into one.And I’ll stop at nothing to claim what’s mine.

And Hell Followed by Beckett Riley (brother x sister)

My parents thought emigrating from Germany to the American frontier was going to be a good thing. But it seems that a darkness is doomed to follow us wherever we go and life can be so harsh and unforgiving in this world, especially for a woman.

Luckily, I have my brother, Thomas, to watch out for me. He can only do so much, though, and after that vile attack, I find myself shrouded in darkness more than ever. It was then I realized that festering gloom came from within.

Although society won’t take kindly to it, we have forsaken God to live an unholy life, and just as things finally began to calm down, the past reared its ugly head and came back to destroy everything we’ve built.

But as Thomas once told me, I would ride my steed through the fires of hell to salvage the only thing worth living for, and if the devil himself gets in my way, he will beg God for mercy.

Stolen Kisses and Secret Promises by Rue Seven (brother x sister)

My sweet Kielyr, we were far too young to understand why our parents decided to go separate ways and keep us apart for so many years. Luckily, we found our way back to each other. Never in a million years would I have ever imagined to hold and kiss you like this, to feel this ever-growing love for you. I’m lucky that I get to call you my love, my girl, my everything, my forever.

From the day we finally met, I promised to protect you. To never let anything happen to you, and to be there for you every second of every day, no matter the circumstances. I also promised to love you no matter what. No matter who’d find out about us, and I like to think that I’ve been able to keep our love protected for longer than we had ever expected. I’ve kept all those promises—and will continue to—but there was one day in our lives I hope to never relive ever again.

That day shattered me. It broke my heart to see you in so much pain, and even when you say to leave it all in the past, I still think back and wonder what I could’ve done to avoid it all. To save you from that cruelty. Sweet girl, you are so incredibly strong, and even after everything you’ve been through, your light still shines bright.

I spend every day admiring your kindness, gentleness, and selflessness.You’re truly one of a kind, and I’m forever thankful for your love. I will love you until infinity runs out. Yours always, Rellian.

Love Unexpected by Q.B. Tyler (stepfather x step daughter)

I’d only wanted one kiss.

One kiss, under the dark of night, in a city where no one knew us.

One kiss fueled by my hormones and alcohol and the blinding grief over losing my mother.

One kiss from the man I told myself was untouchable.

But, it didn’t stop at one kiss.

And now we are running full speed down a road with no intention of stopping.

His touch disarms me.His kiss revives me.But, our love, could destroy me.

Love’s Forbidden Flower by Diane Rinella (brother x sister)

The heart cares not what society forbids.

Lily nurtures a secret love for a flawless man—the one who is her soul mate. Donovan is gorgeous, charismatic, and delights in all of Lily’s talents and quirks. Their innate knowledge of each other is almost telepathic. Together they interlock like fine threads creating luxurious silk.

But society dictates this picture-perfect adoration is the ghastliest of all possibilities.

As Lily embarks on a quest for the romance the heavens intended, her suitor turns reluctant. Desperate to uncover why Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hiding decayed from a tender-hearted gentleman into a ferociously self-serving, cocky bastard, Lily is prepared for battle when it comes to the salvation of her soul mate. However, Donovan traps Lily in a mental game of chess, leaving her to question his sanity. When Lily’s revelations about Donovan’s destructive alter ego lead to an inconceivable truth, can she help Donovan survive fate’s cruel joke?

Time’s Forbidden Flower by Diane Rinella part 2 (brother x sister)

An eternity of passion cannot be quelled by society.

Once upon a time Donovan assured Lily all of her dreams would come true. But how could he keep the promise of a fairy tale when her truest goals could not involve him, though her deepest desires did? Now, Lily has it all—love, passion, a family, and the career of her dreams—with Christopher. But something is lacking. She and Donovan have spent the last ten years living apart, and the soul mates are eager to reunite. Can Donovan keep his promise to give Lily all she desires, even with Christopher in the way?

For Lily and Donovan, the past is a mirror to the future that cannot be shattered.

Donovan is convinced Lily has been his love for all eternity. Determined to unravel the past, they embark on a journey to discover where it all began. For centuries Donovan has stolen Lily’s heart while forced to suffer for his love. How much can a soul endure before the breaking point is reached and a monster emerges? Can the demons of the past be combated to pave the way for happiness in the next life? Or has the abuse suffered in this life already turned Donovan hell bound? Time and again, one woman has destroyed their happiness. It’s time to silence her once and for all.

Off Limits by Astra Rose (step father x step daughter)

Have you ever wanted something you just couldn’t have?

When her mother abandons her, Danica Holland doesn’t want to reach out to her ex-stepfather for help–even though he’s always been the one and only parent she could rely on. But when Social Services intervenes on her behalf, he rushes in with open arms…and broad shoulders, strong hands, and that cleft in his chin that drives women wild.

For Danica, life with Jean-Luc Rochat was always safe and secure. But after a year apart and a lot of growing up, things don’t feel so straightforward anymore. For example: Jean-Luc was always loving and protective, but was he also always…this hot?

While Jean-Luc struggles to resist his inappropriate fixation on his stepdaughter and be the parent she needs, Danica realizes that she can’t settle for anything less than the one man she truly loves–even if he is the one man she can never have.

PIKE: St. Charles Hockey Volume 1 by A. Briar (twincest)

PIKEDevil Incarnate. My fraternal twin brother is back in town and he is hellbent on making my life literal hell.

RHYSDaddy’s Princess. My fraternal twin sister. She’s never lived a day in hell, but I’m here to change that and I’ll be holding her hand as we walk through the fiery gates.

#submission #asks #nr #new canon #first post #list: books #list: canon #r: brosis #r: fd #A TREASURE TROVE #THANKS ANON

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sweetheriah · 10 days

Note

Do you style your hair with a double pony tail? If so then I fear you'd have to take the time and do them again because I'd be pulling your hair and telling you how good of a girl you are and how good it feels to be inside you. ❤️

funny thing: that’s my go to hairstyle because it makes me feel super slutty & dirty. i make them that way for them to be f$cked up, so we’re on the same wave length rn lol.

xo heriah 🎀

#smart anon #anon <3 #even though you're not anon #anons welcome #mystery anon #send anons #thanks anon!#anon ask #anonymous #send 1cky asks #send some asks #send asks #send me asks #send dirty asks #heriahanswers

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mbrainspaz · 4 months

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Ok bearing in mind that when my boss cut my pay by like 40% this year I was like ‘so none of the work I did like bringing in horses at 2am in sudden deadly storms ever mattered?’ And she was like ‘no lol get f*cked, also I’m cutting your hours’

4pm yesterday

Me: hey, one boarder who babys her horse but doesn’t like him to have a blanket on unless it’s below freezing, can I please blanket your horse since there’s a 14% chance of rain. Just in case, so he’ll be warm.

Her: no, it’s not cold enough. If there’s a chance for rain just bring all the horses in.

Me: we’re short staffed, the boss has been after us for using too much shavings, half the remaining staff are sick (spent 3 hours at urgent care with one of them today after she smacked herself in the head with an ice pick), I’m not bringing all the horses in for a 14% chance when it’s above freezing. Everyone else will have a blanket on. Do you want me to bring your horse in?

Her: no leave him out with no blanket.

2am, today

Her: I can’t believe you have calls silenced!? I’ve called 9 times! It’s cold raining!

Me: huh, that’s weird. It notified me as soon as you texted twice. Anyway, I’ll go check on him.

Every other coworker: hey she called us in a panic so now we’re all texting and calling you too.

Me: great. Wonderful.

Most annoying coworker (who lives an hour away and is sick): are you bringing all the horses in?!

Me: probably not. I’ll handle it. Go back to sleep.

I go outside. It’s misty. Horses don’t really seem bothered. Nobody is shivering despite being slightly damp around their blankets. I bring in that one horse and give a few others some extra hay to settle them down.

Most annoying coworker: are you sure?!?!

Me: yeah, they’ll live.

Most annoying coworker: Really sounds like you should bring them all in.

Me: no, and lay off telling me how to do my job at 2am. I told you I had this. If you want to do it for the glory—knock yourself out.

Most annoying coworker (who has always tattled on me to the boss for the dumbest nonsense): bro no need to catch an attitude.

No, no need to put up with this shit.

ffs people. I’m probably gonna catch hell about it all day tomorrow. God forbid perfectly healthy horses get slightly damp or even shiver a bit. All the old or ill ones were already in regardless.

Can’t get out of here soon enough. Can’t even go back to sleep now because the gutters are dripping and it’s psyching me out. Should’ve just brought them all in and let that annoying coworker have twice the stalls to clean. Except likely as not she’d call in sick and guess who’d end up having to do all the work. Yeah. She didn’t even do half the work she was supposed to yesterday, and I had to cover for ice concussion girl and try to catch everything up. Should’ve said no when the boss asked me to do that too. What’s she gonna do? Never buy me another pizza?

#life of a Texan peasant #horse stuff #ffs #fml #job searching #bad management #personal problems #things that happened #bad coworkers

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i-sveikata · 2 months

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OMG! Just let them have sex already! This is bullying, you're bullying us and them. It's been a year since Vegas f*cked Pete. Like a proper f*ck. I mean, he's gonna explode! 😂 I expect in the future a whole chapter with them f*cking their brains out! I'm talking about crazy, mind blowing, filthy sex! You owe us that.

Besides that, the chapter was awesome as always. The almost sex made me breathing hard! Vegas is just so used to himself been a failure and I feel sorry him. I'm ready to see how grandma will take the news about them. And YES YES YES Vegas will try to take minor family back. I was afraid that once again he will stay away from the mafia like in other fics. So, I'm very happy!! Vegas and Pete will team up. This is gonna be awesome!

HAHHAAHHA imma keep it real with u chief we are now narratively backed into a corner where they are not physically capable of having sex at the moment (no matter how bad the both of them might want to)

We’re gonna need to give them 5-10 business days before they can get hot and heavy (and Pete is gonna be weird and extremely private about it because he’s sharing house with his family and Vegas brother) so there WILL be obstacles sorry! But rest assured they are both determined and they will figure out how to get the job done ;)

Ooooh yes we are going to see how well they work together in future!! (And how much of a headache they’re going to be for everyone else that’s moving against them lol look out) I hope you like how it all plays out!

#fic asks #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

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h4nn4hra · 2 years

Text

Incorrect quotes

I kind of made this for more brotherly content between Will and Gilan but cralt somehow managed to sneak in, so there's also a bit of that.

These mostly fit a specific au but I'm not gonna explain that here. Let me know if you want it though.

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Gilan: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen?

Will: Neither.

Will: Because it's twelve.

---

Gilan: Dom or sub?

Will: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though

---

Gilan: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.

Will: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

---

Gilan: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Will!

Will: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

---

Gilan: I’m so excited!

Will: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy...

Gilan: And have the biggest stomach aches ever!

Will: Yeah!

---

Gilan: This bloodline ends with me.

Will: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

---

Gilan: What happened?!

Will: Do you want the long version or the short version?

Gilan: Sh-short??

Will: Shit's f*cked.

Gilan: Okay, long.

Will: Shit's very f*cked.

---

Gilan: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three.

Gilan: One... two... three.

Will: ...

Gilan: ...

Gilan: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.

---

Gilan: Hey Will, can you give me the opposite of these words?

Gilan: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down.

Will: Never, Going, To, Give, You-

Will: The f***ing satisfaction.

---

Gilan, throwing a pokeball at Will: Will, I choose you!

Will, not looking up from their book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

---

Gilan: Who hurt you?

Will: *snorting* What, do you want a list?

Gilan: ...Yes, actually.

---

Will : Here comes the lightning!

Will , whispering: You've got to imagine it coming out my fingertips, wherein I am an almighty wizard.

Crowley: Ok, currently imagining that. Hmm, not bad. Not bad at all.

---

Gilan: You look mentally ill.

Will : I am. Let’s go.

---

Gilan: Guys, they're definitely prepared for us. They even have a training model of our brand new top-secret stealth helicopter.

Will : No you idiot, that’s ours we crashed!

Gilan: Oh yeah. I guess that makes more sense

---

Crowley: Hey Halt, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.

Halt, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?

Crowley: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Halt!

---

Crowley: Ow!

Halt: What’s wrong?

Crowley: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow.

Halt: It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

---

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

Will: What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife and spit in my face?

Will: Oh my god, you have Gilan.

---

*Crowley and Will are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Crowley: oh my god, Will , backwards!

Will : Really, Crowley? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

Crowley: THIS REALLY AIN'T THE TIME FOR SARCASM.

---

Crowley: Where are your parents?

Will : What are parents?

Crowley: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

---

Halt: I don't want to fight you!

Crowley: I wouldn't want you to fight me either!

---

Gilan: When you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Will : Navy blue isn't your color.

Gilan: Navy blue brings out my eyes you little shit *Chases after Will *

---

Gilan: Do you even know what an amulet is?

Will : Of course I do! I eat amulets sometimes. I like the ones with cheese and onions!

Gilan: Will , those are omelettes.

Will : Oh. Then I’ve got nothing.

---

Will : Wanna get out of here and grab a bite to eat.

Horace: I don’t usually eat with losers.

Will : Neither do I but I asked you, didn’t I?

---

Will: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

Gilan : They do.

Halt: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

---

Crowley: Not gonna lie, I'm kind of afraid of Will...

Halt: As you should be.

Crowley: No, for real, they're kind of-

Halt: As. You. Should. Be.

---

Halt: Sorry, I'm late to the party. I've been doing things.

Crowley, entering in an unbuttoned shirt: I got caught up doing things too.

Will: Wow, Halt was late too! What a coincidence!

---

Halt: *raises eyebrows*

Crowley: *screams* Put one down!

Halt: *raises one eyebrow*

Crowley: ah, yes, that better.

---

Will: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Gilan : Will, what did you think a tiger shark was?

---

Will: How do tall people people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you?

Gilan : Will, it's four o'clock in the morning.

Will: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

---

Gilan : I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Will: I sleep with a knife.

Crowley: Both of you are pathetic.

Gilan : Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Crowley: Halt.

---

Crowley: We call that a traumatic experience.

Crowley, turning to Gilan : Not a "bruh moment".

Crowley, turning to Halt: Not "sadge".

Crowley, turning to Will: And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

---

Halt: That's ridiculous, Crowley doesn't have a crush on me.

Will: Yes they do.

Gilan : Yes they do.

Crowley: Yes I do.

---

Will: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Gilan: Cannibalism.

Will: *confused chewing noises*

---

Halt: Yesterday, I overheard Will saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Crowley replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

---

Officer: What’s your name?

Gilan, whispering to Halt:Can I tell them my real name?

Halt: No!

Gilan: I’m… Halt.

Halt, whispering to themselves: The ONE TIME they get my name right…

---

Crowley: Guess what I'm about to get!

Halt: On my nerves.

---

Will: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops!

Gilan: *loads shotgun* I got this.

Will: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

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

Hope you liked it :)

#gilan davidson #will treaty #crowley meratyn #halt o'carrick #cralt #horace altman #Will Treaty and Gilan Davidson are brothers #ranger's apprentice #ranger apprentice #ra #john flanagan

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