#And Ed looks him dead in the eye and goes 'Do YOU?'

[saltpepperbeard]

gnawing on my arm because i think there's something to be said about how stede not only dreams about himself with a beard, but ed with his full beard back too. like, the dream seems to be riddled with imagery that he thinks ed would want.

and i say this especially because of how stede reacted when ed had to shave his beard. he freaked out on his behalf. he shrieked in horror whereas ed was entirely unbothered. he feared he had ruined him, had dragged him down to some despicable level, when in actuality, ed was completely content to shed that part of his persona.

and then there he is dreaming about ed with that part right on back.

so there's very clearly still a part of his mind that's convinced that's what ed wants. because why wouldn't he? everyone else seems to. and why would he want the softness and femininity stede had been bullied for his entire life?

which in turn plays into his own imagery too. bearded, masculine, fiercesome, rugged...

because how could someone love what everyone has hated him for? how could someone want what everyone has tried to quite literally beat out of him?

[jheselbraum]

Like did Link have regrets and probably some buried resentment for Zelda due to associating her with the events of oot, if mm and tp are anything to go by? Yeah. But let's not pretend that adult timeline Zelda didn't help Mr Kid in an Adult's Body Getting Brothel Jokes Made at Him dodge a fucking bullet. And child timeline Zelda's plan only fell apart because Rauru is an idiot.

You know what's worse than seeing some dudebro blaming OOT Zelda for "ruining Link's life"?

A "Zelink shipper" saying the same thing.

It's like being stabbed in the back lmao

I think not everyone understands her character:(

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

crew of the revenge halloween party where everyone goes as a different flavor of captain bonnet:

wee john goes as stede’s fancy party powdered wig 1.05 look (but with more glitter)

frenchie replicates the cursed red suit (it’s only a replica tho so it’s fine, it’s not cursed, don’t worry you guys)

jim goes as all-white gut-stabbed 1.03 stede complete with a loosely tied piece of rope around their neck. remember in 1.06 when they fake tortured a dummy during the fuckery? imagine that much gusto being put into pretending to be stede getting hanged to death at random intervals throughout the party

olu goes as leather pants + slutty blue shirt stede and honestly? he kinda wears it better than stede does

zheng goes as the same stede but with a wooden board tied to the back of her pants to commemorate the time she publicly spanked planked him

fang goes as stede wearing ed’s leathers. this costume involves putting flour on his face to simulate how stede was suffering from severe blood loss in that episode

the swede goes as classic pilot episode teal suit stede and does a dead-on stede impression (picture stede in the background huffing “i don’t sound like that!” and ed kissing his cheek and lovingly saying “yes you do, babe”)

roach goes as 2.01 broke era stede. this costume also involves a pillow and a blanket and occasionally moaning “ed, oh ed” out loud

lucius goes as 1.08 stede pulling an all-nighter to stare at ed and jack through a telescope. nightgown, pink robe, makeup to emulate the bags under stede’s eyes, gripping a telescope for dear life (stede tries to argue “it wasn’t all night” but olu is like “no i was there, it was literally the entire night”)

black pete goes as 1.02 stede with his shirt all ripped up (ed voice: man it’s a good thing he’s already dead bc i could literally kill izzy for not telling me about this)

ed goes shirtless and wears an orange skirt. the crew is like “that’s not a stede costume” and ed’s like “no listen ok. one time i had a dream where stede was a mermaid.” the crew is understandably confused and ed’s just like “had to be there ig” and they’re like “had to be there… in your dream?” and he’s like “yeah.”

archie panics bc she hasn’t known stede for long and everyone took all the good ones that she was actually there for. jim offers suggestions but it’s all s1 stuff and archie’s like “i can’t do the treasure hunt look, i wasn’t there.” eventually she gives up and just shows up fully nude and is like “im stede on the night of calypso’s birthday”

about halfway through the halloween party buttons shows up and de-birds himself, at which point archie sees that buttons is there and is also naked and is like “bro no fair, i called dibs on this stede costume!”

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."

It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.

Or so Steve had thought.

Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.

Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.

Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.

Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."

Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?

Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.

The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.

"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.

"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.

Months pass and Steve goes every week.

"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."

"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."

"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."

So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.

Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.

"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."

So it goes.

"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"

"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."

"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.

Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.

Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.

As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.

"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."

Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

And then, a miracle happens.

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙺𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 - 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Konoha 13 boys; Ft teacher/student|age gap, ft Sex ed; Demonstration, cunnilingus, Daddy kink, belly bulge, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 2,428

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes father/daughter incest, underage(16)(though it’s only implied), No use of Y/n, 2nd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“You ready, baby?” Your father asked you, staring straight into your eyes from his position between your thighs. You nodded, your toes already curling in anticipation. “You gotta use your words, baby, okay?”

“Y-yes, Daddy..” You breathed, not knowing what to really expect. He smiled up at you before dipping his tongue into your folds. The sensation made you clench your hands, white-knuckling the edge of your father’s desk, and fighting the urge to clamp your legs shut.

“See that, boys? You wanna make sure your partner’s feeling good.” He leaned back in a pressed a kiss directly to your clit, sucking on it slightly. Your hands snapped into your father’s hair and your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders as you hunched forward slightly, your hands not knowing whether to push his face forward or pull him away. You felt a chuckle against your sensitive bud and the feeling only made your thighs clamp further around his head. With one last lick combined with a bit of suction to your clit, he pulled back and untangled himself from your limbs, lightly coaxing your hands out of his hair and instead intertwining your fingers with his.

“What was that?!” Naruto asked, wonder and fascination clear in his voice.

“That’s the effect of stimulating her clit,” seeing the blonde’s confusion, your father sighed, “Does anyone know what a clit is?” You could almost hear the desperation in his voice to not have to start from scratch with these boys, making you hold back a giggle.

“The clitoris, a bundle of nerves on the vulva that can cause extreme amounts of pleasure.” Sasuke recited as if reading from a script. He tried to look and sound indifferent but the tent in his pants and the pink dusting his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“Oh thank Kami..” Your dad whispered against your clit and sent a shiver through your whole body, “Yes. Now, everyone gather behind me and make sure you can see.” He instructed, the boys doing so like trained soldiers. “Everyone can see?” He asked for confirmation and got half-assed mumbled responses that generally amassed to a ‘yes’ which was good enough for him since he just wanted to get on with the lesson.

“The clit is not always in the same spot so you can’t just use one reference and take it as universal fact. But on our gorgeous young model here,” your dad looked up and smiled when your eyes met, a smirk evident when he saw how your cheeks reddened from the praise, even teasing more by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh directly next to your wet folds, “her clit is right here.” He announced as he slid his left index and middle fingers into your wetness and spread it to show off your swollen bud. “Can everyone see what I’m talking about?” He asked, not bothering to look behind him. You did, though, look up at the boys, and seeing them all nod, you conveyed that to the teacher.

“Good. Now. See what happens when I rub it a little.” Your eyes widened before he shifted his hands to use his left hand to spread you open and wrapped his right around your thigh to lower his right middle finger to gently rub loose circles over it. Your back arched and your feet flexed down with toes curling, letting out a long moan.

“Holy crap…” You heard Shikamaru’s voice mutter, seemingly in awe.

“That’s right. It’s certainly a beautiful sight,” The older man said, sending a cheeky smirk up to you when you looked down at him still between your legs, “Stimulating the clit is a surefire way to get her to cum, yea?” He explained as he never stopped his ministrations. “But don’t rely on it, that’s just plain lazy. You gotta make her feel good in other ways too.” You felt his breath hot on your wet lower lips and a tremor wracked up your spine at the feeling.

He looked back up at you as he sped up his fingers, rubbing and rubbing at your sensitive bud and when your moans got even louder he dipped his head back in and lapped at your entrance again. The dual sensations sent you over the edge and your hands shot right back to his silver hair but managed to somehow keep your legs open as you spilled into his mouth.

You heard the noises of wonder from all the boys surrounding you as they watched your hips twitch and your cunny gush around your father’s tongue. His fingers didn’t stop as you twitched from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You whined and tried to shuffle away from the overstimulation but he planted his hand on your hip to keep you trapped in place.

“Ah, hold still babygirl, we still gotta teach these boys how to properly fuck such a pretty pussy.” The silver-haired man breathed against the puffy lips of your pussy. As you panted to try and refill your lungs with the oxygen they needed, you dazedly nodded and did your best to stop your squirming for him. With a fond smile, your dad pressed a kiss to your swollen clit and stood up, soothingly stroking your hip in response to your jolt.

“Daddy…” You whined into the room otherwise quiet apart from small groaning breaths and murmured observation from the boys watching your father stand between your thighs with his pants tugged down below his achingly hard cock and full, heavy balls.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you.” He spoke lowly, specifically talking to you, “Are you ready for me, baby?” Your father raised his tone enough that he made sure all the boys heard him. He wanted to set a good example of specifically asking for consent. When he first gave you The Talk, he put extra emphasis on the phrase ‘Consent is not only sexy, but mandatory.’

You nodded enthusiastically and chirped out a verbal confirmation before he had a chance to prompt it. He looked down at you with a fond, proud smile, still coated and dripping with lust. Your cunny fluttered around nothing at the sight it only increased when you felt your daddy’s hot, rock-hard rod rest against your slit.

“Can everyone see well enough? If you can’t, get into a position where you can.” Your dad called out, once again without looking at his students. More nonverbal nods and quiet shuffling from the boys that you relayed to their Sensei with a lazy nod. He smiled at you in silent thanks before it turned more predatory and sensual and he started rocking his hips against you. His shaft slid through your pussy lips and he coated himself in your dripping arousal. His cock head slid all the way to the bottom of your cunt and then all the way back up to your swollen clitty and collected your juices. Each time he rocked his hips back and forth against you, his tip caught on your twitching hole before it slid back onto its path, teasing you torturously each time it didn’t go in.

You whined at the almost cruel teasing and tried to subtly roll your hips enough to force your father’s tip inside your cunt but he was quick to stop you with a tightening grip on your hips. The wordless pleas grew more desperate the more he relented. Your noises caught the attention of some of the boys and their gazes flicked to your face. They saw your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your brows bunched together, and desire and desperation and a deep want gleaming in your eyes. If they weren’t painfully hard before, they sure as hell were then.

Finally, your daddy decided it was enough teasing and slid his tip to the bottom of your cunny and slowly slid back up where his head caught on your hole once more. But instead of simply shifting his hips to just move past it, he angled his hips just right and finally started to sink his cock into you. Your mouth dropped open and a silent moan escaped your lips in a quivering breath.

“That’s it, baby. That’s a good girl.” The silver-haired man praised, rocking his hips forward in small intervals to push in inch by inch. The stretch of your little pussy over his thick cock was delectable, the burn mixing with blinding pleasure. Your father slid his thumb back and forth soothingly over your hip bone as he continued to push in. The boys where were at an ideal position— right beside your father and your hips— were tantalized by the sight of your cunt stretched so wide over the thick cock.

“If you’re like me with a partner so much smaller than you, make sure that you’re extra careful. Always go slow and be careful at first, but if she’s so much smaller than you like my good little girl, then you need to be extra careful. Don’t hurt her. Isn’t that right, baby?” Your father spoke, only slowing his movements when he got nearly 3/4 the way in. You were so focussed on your breathing and the feeling of your daddy’s cock that you couldn’t muster up words so you settled for an eager nod and a whined affirmation.

“That’s it. Good girl. My good girl.” He cooed and slowly slid the rest of himself inside you until his hips were flush with yours. With his size, especially compared to yours, his cock made a bulge in your tummy, not painful at all but noticeable. You released a full breath and took the moment’s reprieve to prepare yourself. Your father quietly cooed praises at you and relented on his strong grip on your hips to lightly ghost his fingers over your skin. Your walls beginning to flutter around him was cue enough for him to regain his hold on you, adjusting his grip to prepare for the harsh thrusts to come.

“Ready, Daddy.” You breathed, lust-filled gaze meeting his. He nodded and slowly pulled out until just his tip was left before he jolted his hips forward to bury himself inside you once more. The movement punched a moan out of you and made you instinctively arch your back, though his hands on your waist held you down. “Fuck-! Daddy!” You cried out as he pulled back again, this time with the intention to set a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for Daddy.” He spoke calmly even with his hips hammering into you with a steady pace. “Make sure you pay attention to her reactions. How good she feels.” The sensei spoke to his students, his voice still impossibly even. Some of the boys, who you identified as Kiba, Shikamaru, Neji, and Sasuke in your hazy state, followed his instruction and aimed their gazes at your face, and flicked to the movements you made.

“Fuck!” You squealed and gripped the edge of the desk as your expression contorted with pleasure when your dad hit your internal bundle of nerves dead on. He started aiming his thrusts for that spot, pumping his cock inside your gummy walls. Your moans reached even higher in pitch when he masterfully steeled his grip with one hand to keep you in place with his rough thrusts and moved his other hand over your belly. His left hand smoothed over your tummy before his fingers covered the bump that formed each time he buried his dick inside you again. He pressed down with just enough pressure to not be painful and send pleasure shooting to every last nerve ending.

Your chest thrusted up as your back arched, as much as his grip and pressure on your lower body allowed, and your head was thrown back with your mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Your legs trembled around your father’s form and your toes curled almost painfully and your breath got caught in your throat as your cunny spasmed violently around his cock, still roughly fucking into you. Your creamy pussy left a nearly dripping ring of white at the base of his length and your fluids gushed out and soaked both your thighs and his.

“Ohh, that’s a good girl. Such a good babygirl.” You could hardly hear his voice over the ringing in your ears from your most intense orgasm yet. The aftershocks still rang through your body and sensitivity made your puffy pussy lips ache with the continued stretch of your father’s member pushing in and out of your walls without pause. Your cunt continued to pulse around him for several more thrusts until his pace finally faltered. It was a single stutter but it was enough to know that he was close.

Your father let out small grunts as he got closer to his end and his thrusts became sloppier and had random bouts of more force that promised to leave you with bruises. It was hardly painful, though, it had you letting out yelped moans and unintelligible rambles of Yes and pleas for more and how good your daddy was making you feel. The silver-haired man’s hips finally halted as he planted himself as deep inside as he could reach and emptied his balls inside your quivering cunny. The hand that had been on your belly was now planted beside your body to keep himself up as he hunched over his pretty little daughter’s heaving body.

You both knew that you would have a dark bruise on your hip from his hard grip and on your hips from his forceful thrusts. You also knew that you would wear them proudly, no matter how long it took to sit down normally afterwards. With the view of your tummy unobstructed, you could see how the bulge seemed to inflate more with all of his cum filling you up. The boys around you stood in a tense silence, both because they didn’t quite know what to do or say, and because they all felt too stiff with the painful boners straining against their pants.

“You did so good, baby.” Your father cooed breathlessly and set a gentle kiss on your lips. Slowly, he moved to stand straighter, the movement consequently making his cock inside you shift and had you both flinching from oversensitivity. The sensei sent a cheeky glance around at all his students’ faces and saw the poorly veiled excitement on all their faces as he spoke,

“I hope you all saw that. Because if you didn’t you’ll have to wait for another demonstration on another day.”

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[eddiestightywhities]

“Shit.” 

Eddie mutters the curse under his breath when he can't seem to release the clasp on his St. Christopher chain.

He'd plopped himself down next to Buck after arriving home from dropping off his fourteen-year-old budding socialite at a friend's house, having already kicked off his boots and hooking an arm around Buck's still crossed-at-the-ankle legs, getting comfy with them resting over his lap—well, his lap and the arm of the sofa, because Buck has the longest pair of pins in the whole frickin world.

“Nope, I'm afraid shit can't possibly be the answer to seven down, Eddie, because even though it starts with an ‘S’, and the third letter is definitely an ‘I’, twelve across has got to be 'Skating', which would make the second letter a ‘K’,” Buck says with mock-seriousness as Eddie is still attempting to take off his chain. “And anyways, I don't really think the answer to the clue ‘Dermis’ could legitimately be shit, not by any stretch of the imagination; ‘Dermis’ sounds too… I dunno. Scientific? Medical?”

Eddie snorts his amusement at Buck, and Buck grins back at him with that particular twinkle in his eye that Eddie has come to think of as belonging to him.

He really tries his best not to be possessive over his best friend, knows he has no right to anything like that, but Eddie can't help being in love with Buck, no matter how much he wishes he wasn't.

Eddie's been fighting his desires his entire life, regardless of the fact he knows there isn't a damn thing wrong with being gay. But growing up in Texas, with a family as traditional as his own? It means Eddie hasn't ever felt entitled to getting the things he wants in life.

Buck must notice Eddie struggling, then, because he immediately drops his pen and the crossword puzzle book Eddie picked up for him yesterday at the newspaper stand near the firehouse, and is now swinging his legs off the sofa so he can scooch further up to Eddie, until he's almost on top of Eddie, and is saying, “Here, let me get that for you, Eds.”

Eddie freezes.

He knows he should shoo Buck away like he's supposed to, do the right thing, but ever since Buck started dating Tommy—and ever since Buck broke up with Tommy—Eddie's been pretty bad at being well-behaved around Buck.

Buck doesn't exactly make things easy, though. Never has, truth be told. He's always been a really tactile kind of guy, and right now his tactile nature is trying to murder Eddie, dead, dead, dead.

“Lemme just…” Buck's tongue is poking out of his mouth and resting against his bottom lip in concentration—and Eddie knows he should look away but can't—and then he's leaning right into Eddie's space, like he goddamn belongs there and, oh god, Eddie can't take this. He can't. He can't fucking breathe let alone act like this isn't bothering him, like it isn't turning him on like he's a horny teenager again, like this isn't everything he wants and has dreamed of. “Eds, just… lean forward a little would you, so I can—a little bit more, man, c'mon, don't be shy, I just need to…”

Buck really is on top of Eddie now, big arms wrapped around Eddie's head, musky cologne in Eddie's nostrils and warm breath in the shell of Eddie's super-sensitive ear and fuck, he's practically straddling Eddie now, right thigh pushed up against Eddie's junk, oh hell, and Eddie is panting softly and only about two seconds away from moaning his best friend's name like the pathetic hot mess that he is, Jesus fucking Christ.

“Got it,” Buck mutters, and just as he goes to lean back and pull away from Eddie, Eddie hears his internal monologue say: Yeah, I've got it real bad. 

Then something just—snaps inside of his brain before it's shutting down completely and his heart is in his throat as he finds himself whispering, “Screw it,” while he grabs onto both of Bucks biceps with purpose because he's terrified that if he doesn't, they might leave him forever.

“Wait,” he says. Pleads. 

Buck's right thigh is snug against Eddie's left one, the other still in Eddie's lap, his gorgeous face right there next to Eddie's, so close Eddie can almost feel the prickle of Buck's stubble.

“Eds?” Buck whispers, and his breath is mingling with Eddie's and Eddie hasn't prayed for a long, long time, but he's praying now; praying that he's not about to fuck up the best thing, bar Christopher, that has ever happened to him; praying for redemption; praying that Buck might want Eddie even just a fraction of the amount Eddie wants Buck.

His voice breaks when he says the only thing he can. “Don't go.”

Eddie wants this so, so badly, just this one thing, that's all he's asking for, and he's willing to beg for it if he has to—swears he'll never ask for anything again as long as he fucking lives.

“I'm not, Eds, I'm…” Buck trails off, frowning a little. He swallows audibly and licks at those sinful lips that are right fucking there and then says, “What, um—w-what exactly do you mean by 'don't go', Eddie?”

Eddie's heart is thumping so hard against his ribcage it feels as if it's going to burst right out of his chest, and Buck has to be able to feel it too because his solid chest is pressed up firmly against Eddie's, and Eddie can't believe he's doing this and seriously might just pass the fuck out any minute now—

“I don't…” Eddie shakes his head.

Fuck.

Is he really doing this?

“You don't know? Or you don't want me to go—like, as in go home?” Buck's asking. Eddie can't breathe. “Or do you mean, like, go, uh, g-go away from—from right here?” Buck swallows again and Eddie has never wanted anything more than to lick a long stripe up that prominent Adam's Apple of Buck's. “Do you mean don't go from this, Eds? From… from you.” And that last part doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like Buck gets it, and like he isn't horrified by the idea or amused by it or as if he's pitying or mocking Eddie.

Unbelievably, it actually sounds a little like Buck might just want Eddie, too.

Eddie screws his eyes shut, and all he can manage to say is, “Yeah, Buck. The last one.”

Buck is then slowly, gently, sliding his cheek up and down Eddie's, and Eddie finally knows exactly how it feels to have that stubble dragging against his own and there is no fucking way on Earth he could hold in the almost sob-like breath that leaves his lips as Buck's line themself up with Eddie's trembling mouth.

He's gripping Buck's arms so tightly he's scared he might leave bruises there but can feel Buck smiling as he says, “Can I, Eddie? Please?”

Is this really happening?

“Fuck yes,” Eddie urges, and then Buck is kissing him; slowly; gently, and with so much of something that feels like it could be love that Eddie wants to cry.

Then Buck's pulling away, yet not really away because it's only barely enough to let Eddie swallow the boulder-sized lump in his throat and try to catch his breath—only he doesn't quite manage to catch the tear that escapes the corner of his left eye. Somehow, though, that's okay, because Buck kisses that, too—and Eddie finds himself letting it all go, then, and smiling back at the man he's been in love with for almost six years as he cries, because he can finally feel all the colours of the rainbow on his face.

“Eddie, you have no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Buck chuckles, and Eddie leans in and tilts his own head back slightly and Buck's down a little to press lips against Buck's birthmark, smiling like a fool through his tears.

Buck puts his arms fully around Eddie's shoulders and hugs him, tight.

Eddie just breathes him in until he feels settled enough to look at Buck without welling up again.

“Skin,” Buck says then, bringing his hands to Eddie's face and holding it, brushing thumb pads along Eddie's cheeks and drying his tears because he wants to, and can. Eddie squints in slight confusion at the word, before Buck's revealing the meaning behind it, telling him, “Seven down, Eds, it just came to me: It was the word skin. Yours is—man, it's even smoother than I'd imagined. So, so beautiful. You're beautiful.”

“God, I fucking love you, Buck,” Eddie blurts, because he can't help it. “I'm—I'm in love with you, Evan, and I just—I'm sorry it's taken me so long to tell you that, taken me too long to get my shit together and pull my head out of my—”

“Beautiful, insanely perfect ass,” Buck laughs, and then he's kissing Eddie again, like they've been doing this forever, and Eddie's kissing him back and laughing, too.

“Stay,” Eddie begs between kisses. “Stay forever, Buck.”

Buck looks at Eddie like a man in love and says, “I'm in love with you too, Eds. So, yeah, sure, I can do forever,” he promises.

And Buck always keeps his promises. 

.

happy pride to my beautiful firefam 🌈

(unedited pls forgive me!)

[starshideurfics]

Buzzed, Buzzing - part 2

part 1

Buzzed, Buzzing

JQ, you can’t go dropping TWO horny photoshoots on us in less than a week!

steddie, omegaverse, Buzzed part 2, mdni 🔞

Finally being with Eddie is a dream. At least for the week he’s in town, fully foregoing Steve’s guest room and its comfy mattress.

Instead, it’s a week of Eddie wrapped around Steve each night, skin touching skin, bodies sated in a bone-deep way Steve’s never felt before.

A week of waking up to Eddie’s lips on his neck, to whispers of, “Morning, Puppy,” and sleepy yawns, arms tugging him closer and closer.

A week of Robin saying, “I’m happy for you, truly, but could you try going five minutes without swapping spit?!” only for Eddie to look her dead in the eye and lick whatever part of Steve is closest to his mouth.

A week of Steve floating on a cloud of affection and hormones.

Then Eddie has to leave, head to Chicago and buckle down for long days filming.

Steve mopes their whole last morning, sneaking shirts out of Eddie’s suitcase until the alpha relents and dumps out his dirty laundry. “Put ‘em all in your nest, I can get new shirts.”

Steve purrs, gathers the shirts, and herds Eddie back to his room for a last quickie before Eddie’s Uber arrives.

Being apart sucks. They videochat daily, text constantly, but Steve still misses Eddie every second he’s gone. So, he’s back where he started, mooning over pics on his phone, scenting at Eddie’s boxers as he works three fingers into his aching pussy.

He’s holding out, but Steve is counting down the days until shooting wraps, when Eddie would fly straight to Indy.

Steve’s on his lunch break, typing out a response to Eddie’s latest text as he shove pretzel thins and hummus in his mouth, when his phone starts buzzing.

Robin is calling, from the other end of the building. “Hey, Robbie, need me to get you a coke zero?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Don’t tell me you got rid of your Munson-stalking web alert, because that’s the only reason I can think of for why you aren’t freaking out!”

He did, not really needing it when he has Eddie checking in with him at least hourly. “What? Robin, I’m texting with Eddie right now, what do you think I missed?”

“Just, look him up; your ADHD gremlin boyfriend probably forgot to mention it!”

Steve opens google, starts typing Eddie’s name and only gets as far as “ED” before autofill finishes it for him.

A new photoshoot and accompanying interview. Steve gets caught by a photo of Eddie eating a peach. It’s such a thirst trap, but it makes Steve smile.

Besides, there are other notes, but Steve’s scent has always been peach-forward. It might be a coincidence. Steve doesn’t think it is.

He reads the interview; about his current project, lots on the movie coming out next month that filmed a year ago, and his costars including a chill cat.

But right under the peach picture is a question about his personal life, how he stays grounded and connected when he’s constantly moving around for work. 

Eddie starts, as he always does, with Wayne, his friends, his charity work, the arts scholarship he funds.

“The truth is that it’s all for my partner. Like, I want to put good into the world, help kids like me who didn’t have the best start in life, but my focus is on being good enough for him, being the kind of person he can be proud of.” 

The journalist asks him to elaborate.

She writes about Eddie’s smile, the small one where he averts his gaze, emotions too big to share. “I dunno, just that he’s got me beat by a mile—he’s a teacher, middle school, you know, the worst time in a kid’s life. And he loves it!”

More words on Eddie’s laugh and kind eyes.

“So, yeah, the people I love, the people who love me, that’s how I keep my head on straight. That’s what it’s all about, right? Family, friends. Pack.”

Steve’s vision goes blurry on the last little paragraph. He wipes the tears from his eyes and pulls out his phone.

Just read the article! I’ve always been proud of you ❤️

Three little dots appear immediately to show Eddie’s typing, but they disappear and instead Steve’s phone buzzes with a call.

“I forgot that was coming out today! I should have warned you!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you. And it wasn’t too much? I’m trying to keep my private life private, but if I can’t talk to you, I wanna talk about you. All the time. Because I fucking miss you, Puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reiterates. “I miss you, too. So much. Wish you were here.”

The whine he lets out makes Eddie chuckle, low and dark. “Wish I had you here, could show you how much I miss you. At least you’ve got some new visual aides, but maybe tonight, when I call you could show me… Get your fingers wet for me.”

Steve lets out another breathy whine. “Yeah, want that.” He presses his legs together, tries to tamp down the feelings of desire before he gets too wet at work. “Miss your fingers, though.”

“Good,” Eddie husks. Steve can hear him lick his lips, so he knows Eddie’s nervous. “And it was supposed to be a surprise. But I’ve got the weekend off. My flight gets in at 9 on Friday night.”

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

[silkythewriter]

Silky,dear... if you don't mind, could you please do a headcannon for Dee with strawberry s/o. She's so cheerful,kind and understanding ❤️ please. I love your blog,And I've admired you for a long time😭✨

❤︎︎“I love everybody because I love you”❤︎︎

Warnings: might be a bit OOC! Haven’t written about him in awhile I apologize!

Fandom: metal family!

Author note: HIHI!!! OMG TYSM?! UR SO SWEET (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃AHH I LOVE THIS REQUEST TYSM!! please request again this was absolutely AWSOME to make

Summary: Your boyfriend Dee, was one hell of sight, but with you happily walking with a cheerful bounce with him you can imagine the stares you get for the contrast. One doll of a person and then the blond who almost looked straight out of the dead with his dark eyeshadow.

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️

ミ★❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ミ★

“I love it when you look my way”

ミ★❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ミ★

The contrast between you and him is like day and light, and when you both come strolling by weather that be passing by the local convent shop. Or making a quick stop to a store that’s peeked your interest, eyes were bound to wonder. The stares were noticeable, but you guys have gotten use to it, cause your love for him couldn’t be dented by a pair of curious eyes.

Your personality peeked his interest, I mean who could be this kind and caring??, no less to just some normal people who haven’t impacted you in any significant way. It just made him…confused? (-∀-💦)

The way your kind eyes stared at him Tugged at his heart in an alarming (at least to him) way! The blush that spreed across his face the first time you gave him a sliver of kindness was to much for him.

Your cheerfulness always brightened him up especially after tough interactions with glam. Railing up and you being the only one to comfort him back to his collected self. And even if he doesn’t vocalize it he is very much grateful <3.

You make it point to make him feel understand-ed and would never make him feel alienated by his interest un like some un kind people. You let him rant about his newly found obsession or just show off a new skill he learnt.

Even small things like you congratulating him on a good score he got, or maybe for remembering the smallest thing, even commenting on his intelligence. It’s not like his teachers, just thanking him for being the only knowledgeable student, but instead asking more questions to learn more about the topic, and really see how much he knows. And though he doesn’t like being bombarded questions he deems stupid, when it comes to you it makes him like seeing the shock and awed look you give him. Can you blame him? Not only is it adorable but he likes showing off in front of you.

He would rather be dead then admit this but he loves the way you smell like strawberry, he would take this to his grave before admitting this he finds it embarrassing ( =ω= )

Let’s you do his eye shadow only because of how delicate and caring you are with it, you always make sure to take your time so you don’t hurt him little moments like that is what he absolutely adores about you!

I feel like he gets easily flustered by physical touch so whenever your get happy just by seeing him and hug him you can look up and see him red as a strawberry (≧◡≦) ♡

Whenever he goes shopping in the off chance he has some money to spend after he’s done grabbing some clothing he always makes sure to drop by your favorite store. Weather that be a cute accessory story, or a small bakery you might have said you enjoyed, either way he always makes sure he has left over money. So whenever he has a bag filled of random darkly colored clothing only to walk into a store and buy you some pink clips for your hair you can imagine the cashiers surprise. Dee though a bit embarrassed doesn’t care much it’s worth seeing your bright smile at the small item.

Heavy absolutely ADORES you! Literally bouncing off the walls when you come walking in with his brother. He was at first taken a back from how much polar opposite’s you and Dee are but quickly got over it after realizing how sweet you are!.

Heavy definitely teases Dee jokingly before running off after Dee’s had enough you get to sit as you see them bicker you find it amusing but always make sure to help Dee calm down! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ )

Secretly has the same perfume brand you use and sprays it on his bed or around his room at night because it reminds him of you and comforts him but I didn’t tell you that! (▰˘◡˘▰)💦

He gets jealous easily especially when everyone gets so quickly comfortable with you cause of your inviting personality, he dose poorly to hide this but also hates being called out for it especially by his brother.

But just by you hugging him and saying comforting words makes it all go away, you just know how to make him melt in the best possible way.

But with that all said you basically have him wrapped around your little finger. And though he hates to admit it, he wouldn’t have it any other way <3.

ミ★❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ミ★

ミ★❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ミ★

AH WOW IM RLLY RUSTY (๑•́ω•̀๑)💦 I haven’t made head-canons in a hot minute, so I am so sorry if he’s OOC or their not the best, BUT THANK SM THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE ESPECIALLY FOR MY FIRST HEADCANONS IN AWHILE!! ٩(ᐛ)و

[evilfrogcereal29]

Pizza guy!Nikto - Chapter 1

(ok... This is going to be like, maybe one of the most weirdly specific fanfics you've ever read. For context: I work at a pizza place IRL. Thats it. Thats the only context. I was at work and. Thought about Nikto working there too. That's all you need to know. Enjoy :]!!!

This is going to be a Nikto x GN!customer!reader, but reader is NOT introduced in this chapter.

Cw/tws: mentions of violence- including towards an animal! I think thats all? Enjoy :)!!

NOTE: all text in red & italics are Nikto's voices

Nikto was bored.

Retirement was miserable, and Nikto found himself restless day in, and day out. Unable to find peace while wasting away at home. Sure, he had lot's of retirement money, but he had this urge to work, to kill. He would give anything to be on a plane to another mission right about now, but he was too 'broken'. That's what they basically told him. Too mentally unwell to keep working. A hazard to his own team.

Heh.

What the fuck do they know? They don't know what goes on in his head. So what he broke that recruit's arm? They touched him when he warned them of the consequences. Or who cares that he hit one of his higher-up's service dogs with the buggy? It should've been servicing it's owner, not under the damn vehicle! He's not a danger, the other voices are!

Speaking of voices, they aren't reacting well either, metaphorically biting away at Nikto's psyche each day he did fucking nothing. He felt useless, and they reminded him of that. You idiot, you deserve your suffering for being the way you are. Broken. Broken little solider.

He still gets calls from his mates in the service, especially Krueger, who always makes sure to call as often as possible to keep the man updated on missions, even if they didn't concern him anymore. He suggested that Nikto pick up a part-time job, not for the money, but the work. God (and Krueger) only knows what Nikto's mind gets upto when left to its own devices.

Nikto scoffed at first, he didn't like the idea of working at some measley fast food job, he was above that. He crawled through the fucking trenches and ripped out the throats of women and men, and would be reduced to... What? Cleaning a fucking stove? Heating up processed foods for weak civilians? No. He wouldn't. The voices mocked him, this is what we've been reduced to? Patheic.

And then the rot set in.

Krueger had been very insistant on a visit the second he had time away from work, flying out to see Nikto even as the man ignored his texts and calls. He wasn't dead, Krueger knew that, but he also wasn't in a good place. He couldn't let his companion live like this pathetic slob. Cause that's exactly what he was becoming.

Water and alcohol bottles littered the floor, stacks on stacks of old, half eaten take-out. Junk that should’ve been tossed long ago created walled barriers throughout the house. It was a scene out of horders, and the smell was awful. Christ. Krueger was no clean freak, but this? He'd rather sleep next to corpses than this cesspool of rotting filfth, and in the middle of it all, sat his balaclava-ed, smelly friend on the sofa. Krueger grimmaced, taking careful steps. He nearly stepped on poor Sputnik, who had become content with spending her days lazying about, peeing in places without Nikto's knowledge, and eating off his leftover scraps of food, growing just as lethargic as her owner.

"Nikto... Scheiße..” he would almost be outraged at the man’s carelessness if he didn’t understand how the other functioned, without a job, without a purpose, Nikto was truly a nobody. He lifted the man’s head with a gentleness, an action only someone like Krueger could get away with, looking into those glazed-over icy blues.

“This is… this is bad Nikto..” he mutters, eyes filled with..love? Concern? Something Nikto wasn’t used to often. Nikto finally shows evidence of life as his eyes flicker up in wordless understanding. Krueger continues,

"I can't stand to see you like this. You can't stand being like this. I'm going to help you."

Krueger lifts his friend up, albiet with mild arguing and growling from the disguntled bear of a man that Nikto is. He sets Nikto's cheap laptop on his lap and types in job sites, which already has Nikto tense.

"Krueger- чёрт побери! you're acting like my fucking mother-"

"good, about time someone comes in and wipes your ass, if not yourself." Krueger grumbles, scrolling through the job offers, "what's your SNILS...?"

After a painstaking back and forth, and Krueger prying for all of Nikto's personal info, he sent in a few applications on his friend's behalf. Patting the other on the back as Nikto's thumbs rubbed at his temples, fighting back the urge to pulverize his only real friend. You really should, he's a nuisance...

"this is... Not ideal.." Nikto finally grumbles, finishing the last of some lukewarm whisky from the bottle.

"none of this is, meine freund, but this...Is worse." Noone has ever seen them like this, so...domestic. In reality, this was as hard for Krueger as it was for Nikto, The Alligence wasn't the same without the Russian, fighting wasn't the same. Krueger rested a hand on his shoulder.

"everything is going to change, can you try to change a little with it?"

Change? Krueger wanted him to change? Was that even possible? He'd been so set in his ways ever since the incident. But the look in Krueger eyes let Nikto know that there wasn't really a choice.

What are you kidding? You could change as far as you could throw a boulder! Never!

He sighed, deeply. His shoulders slumping miserably as he exhaled.

"fine. But If we don't like the job-"

"ja, ja, you don't have to stay. I get it. I can't make you." He interupted, waving his hand dismissively, "but don't just give up right away. Can you promise me that?"

Nikto hated making promises, he hated feeling like he owed anyone anything, he didn't take on debts or deals. Go ahead, make more promises you can't keep. We know the truth.

Yet here he was, being interviewed by an elderly couple, who pitied him for his past as a solider.

"me and Martha are going to see how you fair in the kitchen, and if that's turns out to be too overwhelming we can move you to a more simple job like delivery. Just bring the customers their pizzas." The eldery man said with an acknowledging smile.

He nodded to the man, Michael, reaching across the table to shake his hand, thanking him begrudgingly for this... 'Opportunity'. Thats damn well what it was, but Nikto didn't quite see it that way yet. As he left with a work shirt displaying the place's name and logo, he felt his heart drop. And a shrill, annoying voice invading his mind.

You are truely a fucking Развалюха. Good luck ever trying to live a normal life!

And now Nikto was worried.

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

Hai :3 I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, I wanted to introduce reader in this first part but it was getting long and I also just wanted to get something out. There will be more chapters for this, but they might be kind of slow to come out😭 work takes up a LOT of my time tbh, but also working inspires me cause...yk pizza place setting so- its a double edged sword. But if you enjoyed pls like and reblog it means sm♥️♥️ ty for reading!!

And to the person who sent me an ask in my inbox about the relationship dynamics between NiktoKrueger + criminal!reader, I see u and ur creative vision, I started writing something today in response ;) just gimme some time!!!

Also an @ list for some mooties who I think would like to see this :3

@simp4konig @lizzy019 @fishsinsareacknowledged @zoloftwithdrawalnausea sorry If I missed anyone, lmk if you'd like to be tagged (or not tagged) in future chapters!!

[keeksandgigz]

thinking about eddie and witchy as it comes closer and closer to halloween

He's totally the type to start decorating for Halloween as soon as September hits. He goes around every Spirit Halloween in town to decorate his apartment and the record store (there's also no Spirit Halloween in Hawkins, so it's been his new obsession since he's moved to San Francisco). His house looks like Beetlejuice vomited in there.

He picks up a really ugly witch caricature on a broom "Look, it's you" he laughs wholeheartedly, but the sour expression on your face as you crumble the little statue in his hands to dust seems to find his joke anything but funny.

You don't get it. You don't understand the mainstream aspect of Halloween, but it's the time of year where you feel the most powerful, the most active (Eddie is aware because his dick has not known and will not know peace until October 31st has passed- not that he's complaining). Your house is full of altars to honor your departed family, and you're much more active in your practices, as Eddie sees you cleansing your home every night after you come home.

Since you could remember, the night of Halloween is sacred. You retire with your coven up into the mountains, for three days- which Eddie was really sad about, since he wanted to spend the evening watching scary movies and passing out candy- to celebrate the witches' new year. Those three days are used to celebrate ancestral magic and honor the dead, eating dinners in silence and lighting torches for the dead.

Despite the terrible news that he was given, Eddie was extremely curious about your Halloween weekend.

"So what, do you just dance naked around a fire? And if you do can you please send me a video" he begs, as you roll your eyes.

"It's not the Crucible, Ed" you retort, getting closer to his ear "But we do have a pool of moon water we swim in before we come back" you whisper, and you swear there's the deepest tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Does your coven rent this place out? Like an Airbnb kinda thing? Asking for a friend" you see him swallow a lump in his throat. You just hit him in the shoulder and laugh.

whew i miss them

[haleswallows]

I’ve Been the Forest and the Fire (and the Witness Watching It) DC x DP Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton) Teen Soulmates AU

Chapter 2!

Teaser:

"This is bullshit."

His soulmate turns around at the sound of his voice. Freezes. He looks tired and scrungly and of course. Because the universe hates Jason, so of course the asshole is also in the class he's taking for his Maths Gen-Ed credit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason stands over him. "Aren't you supposed to be really good at math, or something? Why are you in an intro level class?"

His eyes are huge. "I don't test well and did bad on the placement exam."

"Great," Jason seethes. A twisting in his gut makes him feel like he's about to throw up. The soul bond demands proximity with his 'other half'. Chronically contrarian, Jason fights the instinct and the rising nausea before giving in. He slides into the desk next to his soulmate. The discomfort immediately eases. "Fucking fantastic."

There's attempts at a conversation. Jason ignores it in favor of getting himself settled. Pulls a copy of the list of accommodations he'll need that the Student Affairs Office helped him put together. Subtly scopes the room - for exits, and the best desk for when he brings Ace.

Ignores the put-out expression, the longing looks coming from his right.

Thankfully, the professor focuses on reviewing the syllabus only. And assigns a set of problems. What sort of jerk assigns homework on the first day?

Students scramble for the exit as soon as the dismissal comes. Asshole looks like he has something to say, but Jason just… he can't. Refuses. Before he gets subjected to what the fuck ever the asshole thinks he needs to say, Jason snags the professor.

He's vaguely aware of his soulmate lingering, and then eventually leaving. His gut clenches and his hands shake.

•○●○•

Jason stops in his tracks. The asshole looks at him. Jason glares back.

He's in Jason's literature course too.

"Whoa, 'scuse me," another student mumbles, side-stepping around Jason and his cane where he's standing stock-still in the doorway. Fuck.

OK. Fine. He has two classes with the piece of shit. Jason's dealt with worse.

He doesn't sit next to him, finding a seat in the second row and near the door. It's strategic. Less walking, a better view of the board. There'll be more room in the aisle for Ace when he starts bringing him. Jason stakes his claim - this'll be his desk for the semester.

The asshole can sit in the back like a delinquent. Jason doesn't care. He can't see him from here anyway.

The professor - mid-30s, bearded, Southern accent - makes them do an ice-breaker game. Jason wants to die.

Professor 'Just call me Justin' holds up a bag of Jolly Ranchers, directs them to take one and pass the bag down the line. Jason fiddles with the wrapper of his 'cherry' (it doesn't taste like cherry, he can't be convinced otherwise) while the bag makes its journey, and Justin makes an odd list on the board.

Grape for a favorite poem, Blue Raspberry for a pet's name, Lime for best vacation, Watermelon for 'what you wanted to be when you grew up', and Cherry for favorite food.

"Alright, everyone got a candy?" Justin claps the chalk dust from his hands. "Great, I'll start. I'm Justin," the class titters. Yes, they know. "Lime! So, I taught English in Japan for four years. My favorite vacation was to some traditional hot springs in Osaka. Next…. you!"

The random student pointed to blushes. "Oh! Uh, Karmine. Blue, my family's dog is named Cesar."

"Hi, Karmine! Pick your victim."

She shrinks a little, points randomly. It goes on like that - name, flavor, stupid random fact. It's dumb. There's cringing and some laughs at the stupid pet names. Then someone - Samir, Jason now knows - points to him.

As if he isn't a local celebrity that's had his photo in every newspaper multiple times since he was 12. And that tabloids theorize about his relationship with Bruce, or why Bruce is 'ashamed of him' as a cripple.

"Jason, chili dogs from Dave's stand." In between the pitying looks, a few nod knowingly. Locals, then. He ignores the smattering of whispers, no doubt picking up on theory crafting about him where Vicki Vale left off.

He taps the desk of the guy next to him. And away it goes, another name, flavor, and answer.

Jason's tapped out, vaguely listening but mostly only keeping track of who hasn't gone. It's background noise, all he wants is to talk to the professor and go the fuck home. When —.

"Danny. Uh, watermelon. I wanted to be an astronaut." The asshole smiles shyly, then ducks his head and rubs the back of his head.

Gross. Jason knows his name now. He frowns and the asshole — Danny — sees it, the smile dropping off his face.

Gross. He turns forward, Danny pointing to one of the few remaining people. It's hard to breathe and the wrapper of the Jolly Rancher is sticky when he unwraps it. Pops it in it his mouth.

Gross. Fake cherry.

[lonelychicago]

"Time for bed, babe."

" 'Ust one m're... chapter, Eds."

Buck's moved in pretty recently. It's new... except, it isn't. Not really.

Eddie's thought of this house as their home for way longer— probably longer than they've been dating, even.

But now it's official.

Eddie has been putting the plates away in the kitchen— the house is quiet and peaceful and it's a little late. Usually Buck and Eddie would be doing this together but Buck cooked and Eddie has told him to go relax on the couch while he cleans up the kitchen.

Once that's done, he goes to Buck and—

He stops in his tracks.

His boyfriend is practically dead to the world, his head resting on the arm of the couch at a weirs angle and the book over his face. Eddie thinks he can hear a bit of snoring, but it's still low and quiet and nothing as obnoxious and loud as the snores Buck lets out when he's truly, deeply asleep. (Not that Eddie mind that either, at this point he doesn't think he could sleep without them.)

He smiles fondly and gets closer, until he can reach for the book and gently lift it from Buck's face.

Buck grunts and makes a soft noise on the back of his throat, his eyes blinking slowly awake but not that much. He's groggy and he's looking so soft and tired that Eddie's heart melts right then and there.

"Time for bed, babe."

" 'Ust one m're... chapter, Eds." Buck slurs his words and then jawns.

"I think you've read enough. C'mon?"

"Mhmm." Buck hums tiredly and goes to close his eyes again.

"Buck, please. I really don't want to carry you all the way to the bedroom." Eddie whines but a small and tender smile refuses to leave his lips. "You're heavy, y'know?"

" 'M not." Buck opens one eye and glares at Eddie jut a few seconds later he relents, grunting as he gets up from the couch. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." Eddie gives him a chaste kiss and when he pulls away, Buck has that beautiful soft smile on his face that makes Eddie feel weak in the knees, and his tired eyes are glistening with awe and contentment. "C'mon. Let's go to bed before you fall asleep standing up."

He grabs Buck's hand and tugs him towards their bedroom.

He could get used to this.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 10

Summary: the group begins a full fledged search for Sophia in the woods, when they come up to an abandoned church. You end up overhearing another conversation between Lori and Shane, and finally fess up to Daryl that he'd been right all along. In a flashback, you remember a time you went out during the first few weeks of college with your effeminate roommate, when you see a familiar face in the crowd.

warnings: mentions of ED (not reader), alcohol consumption

The pale blue horizon had streaks of yellow sunlight peeking through the clouds as you opened your eyes the next morning. Your back was killing you–you had stayed in one of the leftover cars on the highway to get a couple hours of shut eye as best you could. You got better shut-eye a few days ago at the CDC, and since then any noise outside the windows jostled you awake at night. You begin to sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with your fists, when you hear hushed voices outside the vehicle.

“I know how she is— she thinks she can handle things on her own, but I’ve seen her fall apart more times than I can count,” it’s Shane’s voice outside your window, and you keep your head low to keep listening.

“How do you even know that girl, Shane? What happened? She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Did we speak to her on a patrol together or somethin’?” Rick’s voice comes out in a hushed, curious whisper. You knew he couldn’t have completely forgotten who you were yesterday. At some point his memory had to come back to him, as foggy as it may be after the time that has gone by. You peek your eyes out the window just enough to get a glimpse of Shane’s face, it's contorted in a way you can tell he’s working out what to say in his head. His brows are furrowed, and he runs his hand through his hair while resting the other on his hip. 

“Yeah, I knew her before this all went down. We crossed paths a few times–she’s from around the area. Nothin’ serious. She was stuck in a bad place back then, couldn’t really take care of herself so I kept her out of trouble when I could. Didn’t think it was necessary to explain,” he says. You duck your head back under the window, a tightness rising up your throat. There's a long pause before either of them say anything again.

“That’s it? Just crossed paths? You looked at her like there was a lot more to it than that, Shane. You called her a pet name , dammit. What aren’t you tellin’ me?” Rick sounds more and more aggressive as he goes on. Amazement at how perceptive Rick was flashes through your mix of emotions, although you admit the first time you and Shane saw each other again wasn’t all that reserved when he brought you into a hug that day. God, it felt so long ago already. There’s another long pause, you can imagine Shane is searching his brain for a reason good enough for his facade. 

“She didn’t want me talkin’ about it. You know how people can get about their past. I wasn’t gon’ go around tellin’ stories to anyone who would listen, Rick. It doesn't even matter–what matters is she’s here now and we’ve gotta figure out how to find Sophia. We don’t have time to dig into the past when the dead are walkin’ around.” 

You can hear Rick’s quiet agreement, and their footsteps recede. 

That motherfucker.

After all that time, all that pain, he acts like you were just another face he barely knew. That you were some kid who couldn’t look after herself. How the hell does he explain the tension between him and Daryl then? Your breathing is shallow as the thoughts race through your mind. Protecting his own damn image, taking control of the situation–it was all typical you realize. Looking back at everything, he always kept you hidden away in the dark. Literally in the middle of the night, every single time. Never taking you to busy public places, never introducing you to his friends. The intensity of the emotions hits you like a spark of flame–your fists ball up as you try to keep yourself together. You need to get moving, the search party is about to start looking for the little girl, and you can’t go out there like this. How are you supposed to let him get away with acting like you were nothing to him? I should've known better, you think to yourself. Should’ve listened to Daryl when he said Shane was bad news. But you’re here now, and Shane is right about one thing–it’s too much to bring up when you have to find Sophia. For now, you shove –hard– at the thought, putting it in a neat little box in your brain with a lock on it. 

Your stomach growls loudly, shaking you from your thoughts. Your mind switches back to survival mode, the need for food and water apparent. You shift yourself up into the sitting position, and exit the car. 

As you approach, everyone is gathered around a sedan, Rick laying out a roll of an arsenal of weapons. 

“Everyone takes a weapon,” he announces. You step up next to Daryl, giving him a small smile. His hand comes up to you, offering a piece of beef jerky. You take it with eagerness, ripping a piece off with your teeth. The salty, dry taste feels so good on your tongue. You say a small thanks to him, and face the group.

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need,” Andrea retorts, looking at the hammers and tools on the hood of a car, “What about the guns?”

“We’ve been over that,” Shane interjects, “Rick and I will be carrying. Daryl too,” his eyes flicker over to you, “we can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles,”

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about,” she says to him.

“Say someone fires at the wrong moment–herd happens to be passin’ by,” his eyes are back on her, “See–then it’s game over for all of us. So you need to get over it,” he says in an authoritarian tone.

“I’ve been trained to use a gun, why can’t I have one?” you pipe in, looking down at the ground.

“Yeah, shootin’ squirrels in the backwoods of bumblefuck Georgia,” Shane snarks at you.

“Isn’t that where we are now?” you retort, looking up at him with your eyes narrowed.

“Not happening,” he says simply, ending the conversation.

Daryl stares quietly, his jaw flexing as he watches the both of you argue. Rick is looking at Daryl too now, waving him on to tell the plan. Without any other words from you or Shane, he begins to talk about going up the creek to find Sophia. You walk up to the car and grab a hammer, it’s heavy but feels good in your hand. You practice swinging it to get the hang of the weight.

“Stay quiet, stay sharp,” Rick orders as everyone walks away, putting together packs of food and water. You take a generous swig of a bottle before putting it into a small bag over your shoulder. 

You can overhear a heated discussion going on with Andrea and Dale, but feel it’s probably best to keep your distance. You doubt they want another person’s two cents in the conversation. As she joins everyone again, you begin walking, taking up behind Daryl who has his crossbow over his shoulder. Rick is behind you at a safe distance. You all quietly follow in a single line after each other for a while, and after an hour or so of walking at a steady pace, Daryl lifts his hand behind him, getting everyone down on the ground. Crouching, you let Rick go ahead of you to walk with him and see a lone tent up ahead. Shane brushes up against you as he tries to pass as well. The three of them come up to the tent with hesitation, and you hold your breath as Daryl approaches with his knife at the ready. Carol slowly walks up, calling for Sophia. 

With no response, Daryl makes his way into the tent. You grab the wrist of whoever is next to you–you can’t even tell who it is and you don’t care. You have an iron grip on them, pleading for there not to be anything dangerous in the tent. Let it just be Sophia, please. But then Daryl comes out of the tent, standing up straight.

“Not her,” he says simply, a small gun in his hand. You drop your hand, and look over to see Glenn looking at you with wide eyes. 

You offer a small smile, “sorry,” 

He doesn’t respond, and looks toward the other guys by the tent. Turns out the person in the tent “opted out” as Jenner once put it. But suddenly you hear church bells, and everyone stands at attention, trying to search for the source of the sound. Everyone starts to run toward the noise, and out of the clearing in the woods you see a cemetery with a small church attached. Rick sprints to the door, and when everyone is behind him, he begins slowly opening it, ready for the worse. You stay back behind the men, hatchet ready in your hand. There’s a few walkers that turn and hiss when they see the group. Immediately you’re inside, ready to strike. You manage to jump in front of one that Shane is aiming for, slamming your hatchet down in its head. You stand as the walker falls down, looking up at Shane with a challenge blazing in your eyes. 

“Can’t handle myself, huh?” you ask quietly. His eyes narrow on you as well, but when the room is quiet with the lack of walkers snarling, you look back over to Daryl asking the statue of Jesus for requests, which brings a small smile of humor to your face. Why is it in the worst situations, he can make you laugh? You barely can tell if he means to. He screams for Sophia then, and you are reminded to start looking around the place. The short row of pews is empty, there’s no girl here. If she was there’s no way she could have handled those walkers anyway. Shane is approaching Rick, demanding that it’s the wrong church. No steeple, no bells, he tells him. But then the ringing chimes loudly above you and everyone is running outside. Glenn runs to the side of the building to the speaker the noise is blaring from, reaching down to the switch at the bottom.

“Timer, it’s on a timer,” Daryl says, defeatedly. Everyone seems to exhale, but more in despair than relief. Although the bells stopped and the noise is no longer going to draw anything in, you still feel the disappointment fill the air around you. 

Daryl falls to the side of the building, sitting and leaning his head back against the siding, letting his eyes softly shut. Letting out another sigh, you fall beside him, your head resting on the heels of your hands. You sit there for a long moment in silence, before you look at him, contemplating if you want to say what’s on your mind. He looks so defeated, so sad. You can tell the loss of the little girl is getting to him. He’s a tracker, he can find almost anything out in the woods. You wonder if he’s feeling inadequate in moments like this.

He seems to sense that there’s something on the tip of your tongue, “what is it?” he says softly, opening one eye to look at you. When you are still hesitant, he opens both his eyes and turns his head to look at you, “what?” he whispers again.

“You were right,” you admit, looking at him in his blue eyes that match the color of the sky today.

“Usually am,” he smirks, “‘bout what this time?”

Before you can open your mouth to speak, you both turn your heads in the direction you hear Shane’s voice coming from. He’s to your left, in front of the church building stairs. You can see Lori standing a few feet from him. Their voices are coming out aggravated, almost urgent.

“Are you really leaving?” you hear Lori asking.

“Don’t you think it’s best for all of us?” Shane’s voice questions. Daryl looks over at you, eyes searching your face for any kind of answers. You shake your head lightly, as if to say you have no clue what’s going on, and look toward the noise again. You can only see the back of Lori as she speaks to him. You can still only really pick up pieces of the conversation. Shane is completely out of view but you can pick up his voice here and there. Lori seems to want him to leave, but she’s not happy with him.

“Just tryna be the good guy here, Lori,” Shane says so quietly you can barely hear it, and you roll your eyes at that, “none of this was intended ,” he finishes. 

Lori leaves the corner of the building, walking what you assume is Shane in front of the church. Their voices are still in hushed whispers, talking over each other. You hear Rick and Carl’s name come up, but never yours.

“ I’m the one that loses you,” Shane says to her. You start to see Lori coming back into view, but she heads up to the steps of the church instead of around the building. Everything is quiet again.

Daryl looks back at you, his expression hard. 

“About that,” you exhale, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. 

———————————————————————————

“Y’all gonna follow the creek bed back,” Shane announces, “Daryl, you’re in charge,” 

“You’re splittin’ us up?” Daryl asks, his eyes narrowing, “you sure about that?” 

The group has formed back together after a couple of bites of what you all packed in your bags today before you left the highway–you and Daryl shared the rest of the jerky he had and a can of beans between the two of you. The sun was on its way down for the second half of the day. You knew you only had so many hours of daylight left to find Sophia. 

You stand next to the others as Shane and Rick explain they’re going to stay back and keep watch for her to appear–maybe she heard the bells and came running but hasn’t made it yet. Daryl’s voice is worried when he asks Shane about his plan. 

“Yeah, we’ll catch up to you,” Shane says easily.

As you start turning to walk away with the others, he suddenly calls out, “Y/N, you comin’?” 

It takes you a moment to register that Shane is calling your name. You nearly gawk at him, what the hell?

“Sorry?” you say to him, not sure you heard him right. Your tone is laced with disbelief.

Daryl’s jaw tightens as he looks over at you, chewing the inside of his lip. You look between him and Shane, uncertain about the change in attitude towards yourself. You don’t make a move to leave Daryl’s side. 

“Don’t want you wanderin’ off tryna look for Sophia yourself again, now do we? Want you in my sight,” he says to you. 

First of all, you’re amazed he’s trying to demand things of you in front of the group–it’ll put a clear target on you that Shane thinks you’re not capable of handling yourself, although he did make it clear to Rick this morning that was really what he thought of you. And second–since when does he want you around him? Hadn’t he made it clear that you needed to steer clear of anything having to do with him?

“Come on now,” he calls you over, his fingers twitching to beckon you forward. You look up at Daryl, who, instead of focusing on you now, is glaring at Shane. Lori is watching you too, confusion in her eyes. You could swear it looks as if Daryl is about to stop you from moving forward as he begins to lean forward. But he seems to think better of himself from the look on Shane’s face, and stops himself from making any moves. You slowly make your way over to him and Rick. Standing between them with your hatchet in your hand, Carl calls out he wants to come too. Surprisingly, his mom looks to you and the men you stand between, then lets him come along with you. You smile gently at Carl while he makes his way over. He really is a cute kid. 

The group starts to break apart, the women and Glenn heading away. Daryl stands still after handing Lori the extra gun he found, staring down Shane. Both of them are stock still as Rick excuses himself into the church. You reach out to grab Shane’s arm, and you're struck by the ease in which you feel comfortable enough to do it, even after the past few days’ events. You hate that you didn’t stop yourself, realizing it was a mistake. Daryl’s trance breaks as he sees your hand wrap around Shane’s bicep. As you’re pulling his arm away, Shane looks down at your hand, up at you, then to Daryl with a shit eating smirk, and starts walking with you. 

“Wipe the smirk off your face, Shane,” you mumble, releasing his arm once he starts moving.

“You and I both know you still need me, whether you want to admit it or not,” he says with a cocky look in his eye, passing you to walk towards the woods. You’re half tempted to flip him off behind his back. You glance behind you to reassure Daryl, but his back is already turned, walking to catch up with the rest of the group.

x Flashback x

When your roommate Dana said she was taking you to a “dive bar” as you were getting ready to leave on that Friday night, you hadn’t really imagined she meant an actual dive bar. You had met her your first day, naturally, as you were unpacking your only two bags in the dorm room. She immediately took to you like a magnet, making you try on all her clothes and doing your makeup how she thought you’d look best. You were her “little project” as she liked to call you. 

The thing was, Dana was from Fulton County for god’s sake, so you thought she’d keel over when she saw the state of the dive bar you knew well from home. You were surprised when she was the one who mentioned going to Henderson’s Bar. It was well known for never once being cleaned, the music old, but the drinks were cheap. You knew of the place, but never wanted to go in, afraid of creeps that smelled like beer and body odor trying to climb all over you. But when you walked in tonight next to Dana arm and arm with you, you were surprised to see it packed with college students. There was a small DJ stand in the corner playing club music, and a large crowd taking up the majority of the space dancing and grinding together. Your fake ID got you easily inside– Henderson’s wasn’t the type to have a scanner like some of the nicer clubs in downtown Atlanta. You recognize some kids from school before college, but try your best to advert your eyes if any of their gazes linger on your for more than a second. 

Dana led you straight to the bar where she ordered both of you vodka sodas. Dana had taught you all about the calories in things, and what drinks were best to keep you buzzed but thin. You had never really thought about that kinda stuff before, to be honest. You were always living on the edge of starving so the idea of watching your calories hadn’t occurred to you. But Dana was obsessed. She told you every number of calories in every serving of cafeteria food at school, read Weight Watchers and Cosmopolitan Magazines between classes, showing you new ideas for a diet she wanted to try the next day. You let her talk on and on about it, but anytime she asked you to try a new fad with her you usually turned her down, saying you were trying another diet, but you never told her which one. What you really wanted to say was she should relax and just…let herself enjoy food while it was so easily accessible. You definitely did, especially the first time you saw the cafeteria at GSU. The financial support you got from the state allowed you to get free food on campus, and you’d never been so excited to try so many things. The very first meal you had at the school had made you sick, you had eaten so much. You had to remember that this would be available all the time now, and you didn’t need to act like it was going to be taken away anytime soon. At least not ‘til summer, when you’d have to figure out what in the world you were going to do.

In the midst of your run on thoughts, Dana had pulled you into the dance floor, swaying her hips and holding your hand in one of her’s, the other holding the drink up to her mouth. She always looked so pretty, so put together. You wondered what you looked like standing next to her. She dressed you in a tight black tank top and a short denim skirt tonight. You didn’t let her put you in any of her shoes–you were adamant about keeping your comfortable footwear. And in your defense, the boots kind of looked good with the skirt, even if they were pretty beat up. Dana had smeared some eyeliner and mascara on you as well, and your eyes felt twice their usual weight. Throughout the night you weren’t sure if they felt heavy because of the makeup or the drinks in your system. The song suddenly changed as you danced with her, and it made you look up with a smile. You actually knew this one from the radio. 

As you looked up, however, you saw a familiar face across the room. Even through the crowd of dancing party goers–hell, no matter the size of the room or amount of people, you’d always be able to find that face.

Daryl. 

He already had his eyes on you, maybe that’s what made your eyes find him so easily. You could feel him watching. He was bringing his bottle of beer up to his lips when you noticed the blue and purple marks around his right eye. You groaned inwardly, wondering how he got that badly bruised. As he lowered the bottle from his mouth, you saw the healing split in his lip.

“Oh my god, that guy is cute,” Dana said next to you, having to raise her voice in your ear. She had followed your line of sight–you were probably staring–and your stomach sank when you saw her eyeing Daryl, “you know, like farmer boy hot, like he’s been in a fight. Even his black eye is hot.”

“He ain’t a farmer,” you mumbled, but she couldn’t hear you over the bass of the music. She was already making her way over to him, swerving through the people with ease. People always made way for her, maybe because of how pretty she was or just her presence alone. You were starting to wish people saw you the same way. Not until she’s made her way to stand in front of him did Daryl take his eyes off of you. He looked at her with a small smirk, letting her capture his attention. It was always easy for her to keep a guy’s attention, you’d noticed. She batted her eyelashes how girls are supposed to, put her hand on their arm and leaned into them. If only you knew how to do that stuff. Not that you really needed to. You still talked to Shane on the phone most nights, usually he asked how school was and after getting a few short answers about his day it would lead to phone sex, which you enjoyed but it still made you feel lonely when you hung up the phone. Once in a while he picked you up for a late night picnic in his truck or just to take you to a quiet place to have his way with you. You sighed and made your way over to the bar now, away from the sweaty dancers. Leaning against the sticky wooden surface, you stared at the stains on it while you waited for Dana to return. 

“Hey miss Piggy,” you heard a familiar voice in your ear. You turned to see Merle Dixon behind you, leaning in with that shit eating grin he always wore. His eyes seemed heavier than the last time you saw him, with bags under them from lack of sleep. He was also skinnier, which all things combined you had come to know meant he was on a bender–and not from alcohol.

“Miss Piggy is low, Merle,” you scoffed, facing him fully, leaning your elbows back on the bar, “even for you,”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he lifted his mouth into a smirk, “you know you’ve always been a hottie in my eyes, Y/N. I just mean you’ve been rollin around with the pigs lately, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “Nice, real nice.” you brought your drink up to your mouth, the bubbles hitting your tongue, burning in the best way. Shane’s face came into your mind’s eye, hating when they called him that. 

“Hey now, why didn’t you and I ever get together, Y/N?” he came in closer to you, “before you met Officer Friendly, how come we never bump’ uglies?”

You let out a laugh, and brought your hand up to his face, patting it gently, “cause you say things like ‘bump uglies’, Merle,” 

He still was smiling, turning to bite your hand. You gave his cheek one last hard pat, making him wince, “c’mon now, we’d have a lot of fuuun,” he teased.

You brought your hand away, rolling your eyes, “not gonna happen,” 

He’ laughed lightly, about to bring his bottle of Corona to his lips when he looks over your head, “well now lookie here, looks like my little brother does know how to score some puss,”

You nearly gagged at his choice of words, but still turned to see what he was on about. Your heart plummeted into your stomach at the sight of Dana and Daryl locked in a heavy makeout against the opposite wall. Daryl’s hand was on the back of her head, pulling her into him. She had her arms up around his neck, pushing herself against him in equal measure. You quickly looked away when you realized you’d been staring too long, and Merle was taking a drink from his beer, his eyes watching you. 

“What?” you snapped at him.

“Nothin,” he chuckled, shaking his head a little, “just looks like you’ll be goin’ home alone tonight,”

[dykelips]

steddie — friends with benefits to lovers drabble

“friends don't do what we do.”

rating — teen & up. | tags — fwb to lovers, roommates au, everybody lives/nobody dies, gay steve, gay eddie, mutual pining, friends to lovers, love confessions, angst and hurt/comfort, friends with benefits.

steve's never really had self control. he's never had any when it came to several instances—calling jonathan byers a queer, kissing tommy on a drunken night when he was 15, going straight into an alternate dimension, facing billy hargrove and getting his ass beat, or even telling robin he has feelings for her, soon to find out she's a lesbian, and that he himself is a gay man.

steve's self control surely didn't exist the day steve proposed an... idea to eddie—a no attachment, friends with benefits who bang and get it out of their system type of deal. they're already best friends, deeply bonded from the whole vecna ordeal, so what harm could this do to them?

and now that steve thinks about it, it didn't do a small amount of harm, it practically ruined steve. he fell for eddie, and he's not sure eddie feels the same way.

steve broke his own rule. he found himself attached to eddie, thinking about eddie, talking only about eddie, being in love with eddie.

after steve comes home to their apartment and sees eddie making out with someone on their couch, he starts an argument. he doesn't own eddie, they aren't dating, and eddie's a grown man who can do whatever he wants, but seeing someone else other than himself lay their lips onto eddie's and kiss him, that really starts something inside of steve.

he can practically feel all of the months worth of collected feelings and thoughts bubbling up inside of him and almost spilling out over the sides the second eddie says what he says.

"we're just friends. we're friends, steve. you're you, and i'm me, and that's it," eddie says, arms crossed over his chest, hiding himself away and trying to tuck himself together.

"friends!? fucking—fucking friends, eddie? that's what we are? friends don't do the things we do."

steve scoffs and looks directly at eddie, face going red with anger and a mix of pain inside of him.

eddie looks down, lips pulled into a thin line, eyes downturned and hair hanging down around him, shielding him like a cave hidden behind a waterfall.

"yes, harrington. friends," eddie breathes out, head snapping up. "you act like you want me to say that we're more than that, but you're not into me. you just want to fuck me and act like nothing happened. i can't deal with that. i need someone who loves me, who tells me they need me and will take care of me and isn't disgusted or annoyed by me. that's what i need, not a fuck-buddy."

steve sputters and reaches his hands out, mentally saying fuck it and telling eddie how he really feels.

"eddie, jesus christ! i'm in love with you! i've been in love with you since you woke up from that goddamn coma last year."

eddie's eyes go wide, comically large and round, looking like bambi. he really fucking loves him.

"stop messing around, man."

steve shakes his head, not letting eddie dismiss him and believe it's just some sick joke that he's playing on him.

"why would i lie about loving you, eddie? everything i've done, it's all because of you. do you really think i would tell you this and compromise our friendship if i didn't feel just like i'm telling you now?"

eddie's mouth opens and closes like a dead fish, and he finally shuts it fully. "i, i don't—"

"if you don't love me back, that's okay. i just had to tell you, eds. you don't understand how much you mean to me," steve confesses, lips pulled into an apologetic smile. he goes and turns to walk out the door of their apartment,

eddie shoots out his arm, hand grabbing onto steve's forearm, squeezing, trying to stop him from leaving. "steve! fuck, i love you, too! i do, i really, really do. and, look, i didn't know how to tell you, because you're always being so frustratingly you, clearly not understanding all the hints i've dropped, trying to signal that i've been in love with you for months, too."

eddie licks his lips and his eyes seem to plead.

"really?" steve asks, hope bubbling up inside of him.

he nods, hair shaking around. "yeah, stevie. cross my heart and hope to die. i mean it. swear on it, even."

steve smiles at that.

"swear on what, exactly?" he knows the line he's crossing, and if eddie says what steve thinks he'll say, then steve knows it's true.

"on my guitar. my sweetheart. you know the one. i swear on her," eddie tells him, eyes flipping down to steve's lips and back up to meet his eyes.

"that's a big swear, munson. might need you to kiss me to prove it," steve teases, stepping in closer to eddie's bubble, noses almost touching.

eddie grins, wider that steve has seen for as long as he can remember. "i can do that."

he certainly swears on his guitar if the kiss that they shared proves anything.

whoops i suck at endings and writing in general, but this has been stuck in my head and i felt like trying to write. here it is. love you xx

[blixabargelds]

I love your writing. I genuinely think of it all the time. And I love the mentally unwell buckies, especially ED Gale, because me too kings ✊🏻😔

thank youu <3 gale food issues/ eating disorder is real to me in every universe literally. it’s about the control freakism baby! expect more asp now after superstar gale ed reveal lol also in the au me and @swifty-fox are kicking around the dms he has a severe eating disorder.

meanwhile have a bit of a stalag scene from a wip i fear might be dead but i may have to repurpose this bc gale food issues martyr developing a size kink from starving was smart of me tbh

“You givin’ your rations away?” John says.

Gale thinks about lying for a moment, but there’s no point. “Some.”

John stares at him. His eyes are shiny, almost black in the dark. “Why?”

Gale doesn’t give him an answer. None would satisfy John; that there are men that need it more, that Gale has been too distracted to eat, that he’s been hungry so long he’s almost forgotten what it feels like to not be. That it grounds him a little. He shrugs. John looks semi-murderous, and it’s the most tethered expression Gale’s seen him wear in weeks. He takes one of Gale’s wrists in hand, fingers curling all the way around even with the added padding of his gloves.

“You think this is good?” he says. “You think this is gonna help the others?”

Gale goes to wrench his wrist from his grip at the same moment that someone below them stirs. They freeze, John holding his pulse-point, fingers tight around him. When the air stills and it sounds like they’ve woken no-one, Gale lets out the breath he was holding.

“You think this is gonna help anyone?” John says again, a low hiss this time. Gale tries to pull himself free, but John just drags his other arm out from under the thin covers, grasping both of Gale’s wrists in one big hand. “You like this? If they ask us to march tomorrow, you think you’ll get far?”

Gale’s heart is pounding. John wasn’t this angry at him when they fought. Has perhaps never been this angry at him, and Gale can’t look away from John’s hand. Holding both of his wrists like a bird. He knew it was bad. He knew he’d been reckless, too, in his own way. Posturing as selfless and sticking out his bony chest like a big boy, when the truth is he’d lost his appetite, like a girl who’s been chucked by her sweetheart. He supposes he has felt a little like that, too.

Staring at the difference between them now, Gale finds it hard to catch his breath. Something like hunger finally builds.

John looks at him. Gale sees realisation click in his expression, as his face falls open, curious and wide-eyed. He grips Gale’s wrists tighter, exaggerating the point of how far his fingers can encircle them, and Gale, still staring, groans.

“You do,” John whispers. “You like this.”

[lokis-army-77]

Eddie and best friend!Reader where she admits to having a crush on him and he tries to gently let her down, but says she's not his type and that he normally goes for "girls like Chrissy Cunningham."

Happy(?) writing! xo @munson-blurbs

Love Unwanted

Best friend!Eddie x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

You are excited about your date with your long-time crush Eddie, until it isn't exciting anymore.

Warning: THIS IS HURT NO COMFORT. EDDIE AND READER ARE NOT NICE! Rejection, crying, and feelings. Also, Eddie's mom isn't dead in this, you'll see why.

I'm so so so sorry.

Masterlist

Nervousness hummed deep within your bones as you met your best friend's gaze as you approached him sitting on the couch on the front porch of his trailer. 

"Hi, Eds." You smiled, bounding up the stairs and sitting next to him. 

His hand clasps over your thigh, thumb rubbing the skin there, bringing you comfort. 

"Hi, babe," he replied, cigarette hanging from his lips. "What brings you here?"

"What?" You laugh. "I need a reason to come hang out with my favorite person ever?"

He chuckles, "No, I guess not." He hands you the cigarette, and you take it silently, hoping it will calm your racing heart enough to tell him what you had rehearsed all morning in front of your mirror and on the drive over.

Two inhales and exhales later, you think you've calmed down enough. So, you stub out the butt in the ashtray sitting between the two of you and turn to face Eddie head-on. 

"I need to tell you something." You say, surprising yourself with how confident you sound.

Eddie takes his hand from your leg and looks at you. "Shoot."

"So, this probably doesn't come as a surprise to you, but," you pause, struggling to get the words out smoothly, "I like you."

He smiles. "Well yeah, we're friends, you’re obligated to like me, I like you too."

You waive your hand in front of you, "No, no, no. I like you more than a friend. You know... like romanticly."

Eddie's face changed from fondness to confusion to pity all in the span of a second.

"Oh, Sweetheart," his voice sounded full of sympathy. You look at your best friend, still, with hopeful eyes. "I don't- I'm sorry but you aren't really my type."

His words hit you like a brick wall, smashing into you at breakneck speed, disorienting. Your hopeful expression falls, "What?"

Eddie chuckles awkwardly and looks anywhere but your eyes. "I'm so sorry, but I've only ever seen you as a friend and that's never gonna change."

You can feel the tears of rejection stinging in your eyes and it takes everything in you to keep them at bay, to keep him from seeing. Confusion is also seated deep in your heart. All the signs of him reciprocating your feelings were there and had been for a while, you didn't understand.

"Eddie... what do you mean? Wh-what about all the pet names? The c-cuddling? Letting m-me borrow your clothes?" You stumble over your words. "You-you let me sit on your lap at Hellfire, you kiss my cheeks and my hand all the time... What was all that if you don't feel the same?"

He's started picking at the hole in the knee of his jeans. "Isn't that what best friends do, sweetheart?"

You never thought it would happen, never thought the sound of that pet name would ever be anything more than sweet, but now, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard and felt like acid on your skin.

"No! That's not what fucking friends do, Eddie! I-I-I thought you liked me, I thought you wanted to be with me." You raise your voice.

Eddie says your actual name this time and you think that hurts more than the pet name. "You know I'm more into the Chrissy Cunningham type.. cheerleader, pep in her step, those short skirts and pastels. You are so far from that, I could never see myself with you." There was a sadness to his words but you didn't hear it. You didn't hear how he was trying to say it gently, all you could focus on was the dismissal of the love you were giving him that he didn't want. To you, that gentleness could have easily been disgust, and that's what you heard.

The confusion and rejection have started to heat inside of you, cooking, turning into a simmering rage on the precipice of turning into an uncontrollable boil. 

You stand to your feet and before you know what you're doing, your hand has flown out and slapped the boy. who has broken your heart, so hard across the face that if this were a cartoon his head would have spun around on his neck for a few seconds. 

"Fuck you," you spit at him. "You lead me on and for that, I hope you rot in hell." 

You want him to hurt. You want him to feel how you feel. So, you, in your unthinking rage, hit him where you know it will hurt. 

"You know what Eddie? Maybe this whole town is right about you... maybe you are a fucking freak. And maybe you're so fucking unlovable that your own mother didn't want you, that's why she left your sorry ass on Wayne's front steps, so you could be somebody else's problem. Have a nice life asshole."

You turn on your heel and stalk toward your car. 

The tears start to flow only when you've driven out of Forest Hills trailer park. They become so bad, that you have to pull over, your vision obstructed by big blubbery tears. 

You've never had a heart attack but you think this is the closest thing to it. The metaphorical shattering of the organ felt real, the pain overtaking you, pulling sob after sob past your lips. 

You had just lost your best friend and the love of your life in one fell swoop. Maybe it could have been fixable had he not been so obviously repulsed by you and had you not wanted to cut him deep and leave him bleeding out like you were now. 

There was a sinking feeling in your gut, his words replaying over and over in your head. "I could never see myself with you..." 

With each repeat of those fatal words, your heart seized and your breath caught in your lungs. It felt like you were dying, but honestly dying probably felt better than whatever torture this was. 

Hours passed with you crying your heart out on the side of the road. The sun had set and you were still there. The tears had finally stopped, giving way to the unimaginative emptiness that had begun to settle in you, perpetuated by the all-encompassing silence. No birds twitted after the sun went down and even then the crickets didn't chirp once night had fully fallen. The only sounds you could hear as you lay back in your car seat were the glass shards of your heart shattering into millions of tiny pieces as they fell to the floor beneath.

There was no way it could be fixed. Forget picking up the fractures and tapping them back together. That was impossible now. And even if it were, it would take thousands of years to get those shards back into the correct place.

You had resigned to thinking that you deserved this, that either because of your retaliation against Eddie's rejection or something else you had done in your life, you deserved an unfixable heartbreak. 

Maybe your words to Eddie had been dramatic, fueled by hurt and pain and the truth that actually, you were the unloved one. You were the one pawned off onto others because no one had the capability or the capacity to love someone like you.