#OKAY ill make a tag for my writing

[jacenotjason]

Always With You - Part One

Spooky Month Fanfic

brief writing of Father Morthy and Father Gregor, soon to have a part two woahh

enjoy!

Gregor pushed open the heavy door to the church, his movements anxious and hurried. “Morthy?” he called out, his voice echoing softly through the vast, empty space. He quickly slipped off his leather bag and hung it on the nearby hook. “Morthy, are you here?” His gaze swept over the church, searching for any sign of the priest. “It’s Gregor,” he added, hoping the familiar name would bring a response.

Rumors had been circulating that Morthy had gone radio silent. The church had been closed for Sunday service, and Morthy hadn’t been seen since. Gregor was all too familiar with the paranoia that accompanied battling demons, but he understood it was far worse when it involved Morthy. While he hadn't heard a single whisper from Moloch after his recent victory, the situation with Morthy and Gadreel was…. different. Gadreel was a relentless tormentor. He had been pursuing Morthy for years, showing no sign of giving up. Unlike Moloch, who knew when to quit and return home, Gadreel was determined to either force Morthy into submission or kill him in the process.

Gregor had never directly faced Gadreel, but the very presence of the demon was enough to instill terror. He didn’t need to see Gadreel to be afraid; the stories of the demon’s cruelty and the aftermath of his encounters were enough to frighten anyone.

"It's just me," Gregor called out once more, trying to keep his voice steady. "I promise." As he continued to search the church, the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee reached his nose. The comforting smell offered a glimmer of reassurance, suggesting that Morthy might have been here recently.

“Gregor?” Morthy’s voice emerged from the shadows, and the sound was like a balm to Gregor’s frayed nerves. He turned to see Morthy approaching with deliberate caution. Gregor didn’t blame him for being wary; Gadreel’s ability to possess people was deeply unsettling. While Moloch’s possessions were obvious—his victims quickly sprouting horns and fangs—Gadreel operated in a far more insidious manner. The demon was a master of long-term schemes, often remaining undetected for days on end.

"It's me," Gregor reassured him, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence and openness.

Morthy’s relief was obvious, but doubt still flickered across his face. His eyebrows were knitted together in an anxious frown. “...Is it really you?” He clearly wanted to believe Gregor, but had to be on edge.

In response, Gregor gently pulled down his lower eyelid to reveal the clear, human quality of his eyes. Gadreel’s possessions were nearly impossible to detect at first glance, but the eyes were the telltale sign. Possessed eyes would be devoid of humanity, with an unnerving lack of reflection and overly dilated pupils that gave Gadreel away.

Morthy scrutinized Gregor’s eyes with intense focus, his gaze searching for any sign of corruption. After a tense moment, Morthy’s features softened with relief, and he pulled Gregor into a tight, heartfelt embrace. The gesture took Gregor by surprise, but he quickly returned the hug.

After the hug separated, Gregor looked up at Morthy with worry, "What's going on? People are saying you've been absent."

Morthy’s response was hesitant, his composure clearly frayed. He looked far from his usual self; his hair was disheveled, and dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. “I…” he began, struggling to find the right words. “It’s Gadreel.” Gregor wasn’t surprised. “He’s planning something… I don’t know what exactly.”

Gregor nodded, trying to process the gravity of the situation. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but…” he ventured cautiously, “When was the last time you slept?”

Morthy’s face tightened as he bit his lower lip, clearly distressed. “About three days ago,” he admitted, his voice shaky. “But I can’t seem to sleep. Every time I doze off, Gadreel—” Morthy cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head as if trying to clear away the memory. “It’s easier for Gadreel to possess me when I’m asleep. I have nothing to defend myself with, and I’m not aware of what he’s doing. Whenever I doze off, I wake up somewhere dangerous—or doing something dangerous,” he stammered, his frustration obvious.

Gregor listened intently, trying to piece together the information. “Something dangerous?” he repeated.

Morthy’s frustration was palpable as he struggled to explain. “I’ve woken up at a train station, right on the edge of the platform, about to fall onto the tracks. Or I find myself on top of the church, like I’m about to jump off. Once, I woke up out in the snow, barely clothed, risking freezing to death. I even—” His voice faltered, “I coughed up a rat. A rat, Gregor! It’s like Gadreel’s trying to make me lose my mind.” Morthy’s voice trembled like he would start crying.

"Is..." Gregor's voice shook slightly as he asked, "Is he trying to kill you?" Gregor asked. He couldn’t help but think Gadreel had grown bored of his little toy, and was throwing it away.

Morthy sighed deeply, his expression one of grim contemplation. "That’s what I initially thought," he confessed, his tone heavy with resignation. "But… I don’t think that’s his endgame. If Gadreel really wanted me dead, he wouldn’t go through such elaborate and different means. He could have killed me easily by now. The fact that I keep waking up just before something fatal happens makes me think that's not what he wants…”

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, "I think… I think Gadreel is just showing me his power, demonstrating that he can do whatever he wants to me, whenever he wants. It’s like he’s making a game out of it, just to remind me of his control. It’s not about killing me; it’s about making sure I know he’s always watching, always in control, and a-always ready to pull the rug out from under me."

Gregor’s eyes widened as he absorbed this new layer of understanding. Gadreel’s methods were not just cruel but taunting, designed to keep Morthy in a state of constant fear and vulnerability. The idea of being subjected to such relentless psychological torment was almost as horrifying as the physical danger.

"Okay..." Gregor said, breaking the tense silence with a determined nod. "Listen, Morthy, I'll help you contain Gadreel for a little while longer." He understood that they couldn’t completely rid Morthy of Gadreel, but there were ways to keep the demon at bay, at least until Gadreel got bored. "But you're not going to be able to get anything done if you're sleep-deprived."

Morthy started to protest, his voice tinged with frustration. "I can’t—"

"I will stay up," Gregor interrupted gently but firmly, taking Morthy’s hand in his. "I’ll stay awake and keep an eye on things to make sure Gadreel doesn’t possess you again. You need to get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’ll bless the church and your bedroom to help keep Gadreel at bay.”

Morthy’s shoulders relaxed visibly at Gregor’s reassurance, though a new wave of tension soon followed. “I… I can’t ask you to do that,” he said, his voice laced with guilt and concern.

Gregor squeezed Morthy’s hand gently. “You’re not asking,” he replied, his tone resolute.

Morthy’s gaze faltered, “But what if Gadreel hurts you?” The concern in his voice was loud, a blunt reminder of the very real danger Gadreel posed and how necessary it was to fear him. Morthy’s fear for Gregor’s safety was evident, his hands trembling slightly at the thought of Gregor being harmed because of him. “I-I couldn’t bear to think of you getting hurt because of me.”

Gregor’s gaze softened, and he squeezed Morthy’s hand gently. "I can handle it," he said with quiet confidence. "I’ve faced demons before, and I can deal with Gadreel, too.” Gregor’s confidence was obvious, but he was scared, too. He hid the fear of Gadreel for now, knowing he needed to be brave.

Morthy’s expression softened slightly, though the anxiety never fully left his eyes. “Thank you,” He murmured.

“Of course.”

Part Two

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[witchinatree]

i know the whole "do you think jon ever used his powers to Know what his parents looked like" thing is far more devastating than this but what if he tried using his powers to remember original sasha? jon and sasha always seemed closer than the rest, he picked her (and tim) to work with him and tolerated a lot more nonsense from her than anyone else (using his password to access his computer [161], debating his pronunciation of calliope [25], etc)

and ofc jon and martin became significantly closer as the podcast went on, but in the beginning he was cruel to martin when he gave a statement but accepting of sasha? idk i think their friendship was a lot deeper than we realized (ESPECIALLY since his first murder in season 5 was because NotThem provoked him about sasha) and i think jon wouldve used his powers to Know the original sasha, not sure if it wouldve worked though

so so sorry to distract from the post but can yall read the tags for me because i suffered immensely for this post

[abirddogmoment]

Rory has been trending a little bun-obsessed lately, probably because we have lots of bunnies in our condo complex and she has to practice a lot of impulse control as she can't chase or really fixate on them, so I've been looking for ways to help her fulfill her bunny-murder urges safely.

Unfortunately we don't have a ton of areas I comfortable coursing her (letting her chase buns until she can't see them or catches them) because our bunnies are mostly urban animals BUT I was at the bougie pet store for unrelated reasons and they had dried rabbit feets which gave me an idea!

I bought a few and got some paper bags and put Rory in another room while I hid them around the apartment to sniff out, destroy, and eat. I figured it would satisfy some of her murder urges, even if it's not the whole predation sequence.

She was pretty happy about it! I'll try to add this to our rotation of enrichment activities and maybe get a few rabbit feet to chuck at her outdoors sometimes. Hopefully it'll help vent those bunny frustrations so they don't build up and hurt my good dog behaviours.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[thisisvoided]

you do not i mean you do NOT understand the absolute insanity i go through whenever i listen to the message shou left for yashiki in shibito magire like akjsfhkasjd DAWG??? BRO??????? the fact that NOT ONLY did it take mashita threatening to tell his mom to make shou back off but ALSO the fact that shou actually listens to mashita, theres also the fact that MASHITA TRUSTS SHOU ENOUGH TO TELL HIM TO BE HIS AND YASHIKI'S BACKUP IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THEM. LIKE..... BRO??? AM I INSANE OR>.... and its also implied that mashita USED BASEBALL TERMS to tell him this!!!! bcus shou is way fukin into baseball!!!!!!!!!!! am i crazy???? i feel insane about them okay they make me literally crazy. AND THEN SHOU JUST GOES "haha but like thats ever gonna need to happen, you two have got this in the bag" LIEK...... BRUHHHHHH. i am unwell about them i need to be taken out back BUT I LOVE THEM OKAY THEY HAVE MY WHOLE SOUL,,,,, they are my guys, my detective duo, my gummies,,,,,,,,, i dont even know if this post makes any sense but I DONT CARE. OKAY. I LOVE THEM.

[hikarry]

Okay children, gather around. It's "Spencer Complains and Acts a Little Mad" Time:

I have been raw dogging life for 1 month without my adhd/depression/anxiety/mood stabilizers medication and without a single Therapy appointment

I haven't left my house in 1 month, I haven't spoken to any of my (in person) friends in over 1 month, I haven't seen my family in 1 month, I haven't seen my bloody cat in over 1 month, I've barely left my bloody room in over 1 month, and I've been listening to my bloody voice almost every day for 1 hour so I can finish editing the bloody podcast for over a month

To top it all of: I haven't had a decent night's sleep in about 4 days now (in which I just don't sleep or I have extremely vivid nightmares with my departed mother and/or scenarios where I die over and over and over again but can't speak to ask for help before it happens - fun for all the family, if you ask me) and I might or might not be completely and absolutely going insane, with only Good Omens season 1 (6/6) and season 2 (5/6) and the existence of Crowley/red haired Fire Pokemon David Tennant Edition being my sole producer of any amount of serotonin

How am I alive? Good question. Beautiful genderfluid demonic content can be some very nice very distracting content for individuals that simp for Fire Type David Tennant Pokemon like myself

I am quite sure my only contact with anything mental health related in the past weeks has been my best friend whom is very very annoying and refuses to leave me the heck alone and whom is a nurse and is working extra time to advice my stupid ass the best she can, bless her heart

So, with my personal nurse's permission, I have doubled my sleeping medication for the night and, as Fall Out Boy once wrote for the song "Alone Together" in one of my favorite albums to have ever been created "Save Rock and Roll": I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead

[delta-piscium]

part 2 | this is part two to this from Steve's perspective leading up to and including part one | cw unresolved angst [unfinished/for now not being worked on]

31 days until moving day.

Steve burst through the door to Family Video, swinging it open with way too much force. 

Robin jumps and opens her mouth, probably to tell him off for scaring her but he speaks before she gets the chance. 

“Eddie asked me to move to Chicago with him,” he blurts out, “Robin, he asked me to go with him.” 

Her eyes widen, “what did you say?” 

“That I’d go, of course,” he huffs. Like it’s even a question? like not going was ever an option?

Robin jumps over the counter squealing and hugs him so tight breathing becomes a little bit hard. 

“I’m moving away with Eddie,” he whispers into her hair, awed as he hugs her back. She somehow squeezes him even tighter and they stay like that for a minute until they have to actually do their jobs. 

An hour passes and Robin keeps shooting him contemplative looks.

“What?” He finally snaps after getting tired of waiting for her to say what she wants to say herself. 

She jumps again like she didn’t realize how obvious she was being, which honestly, she probably didn’t.

“Nothing, nothing.” 

“Robin,” he whines.

“Okay, just,” she scrunches her face up a bit and Steve knows that face, she’s trying to figure out how to say something to him she thinks he’ll react badly to. 

He narrows his eyes at her, bracing himself, “yes?” 

“I think you and Eddie are great together, and like I love you both and I am excited for you guys. You know that right?”

Steve nods, doesn’t say anything though, wants her to get to the point.

“I’m just also, maybe, a little bit worried.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, “what do you mean?” 

Robin is looking around nervously. Something heavy starts to form in Steve’s stomach. 

“You haven’t been together for very long and this is a big step. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt you know? I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve talked it all through? Because both of you have a tendency to jump into things without thought.”

They haven’t talked it through, not really. Eddie asked Steve to move, he said yes and that was pretty much it. It didn’t feel like they needed to talk it through though? Did they? Usually, they just dealt with things as they became relevant, that had worked for them so far. 

Robin must see something on his face because she quickly talks again, backtracking and interrupting his thoughts. 

“Not that I don’t think it will be great, you know I just worry about things a lot. This is my anxiety talking. You know what, ignore everything I just said. You two know what you’re doing.” 

He doesn’t want her to know she’s already put doubts in his head so even though he’s starting to freak out a little he smiles and shakes his head. 

“It’s fine Rob, I’m sure we will talk more with time.” 

22 days until moving day.

Steve meant it when he said he and Eddie would talk. Meant to ask about the logistics, meant to make sure they were on the same page, he really did. But every time the move comes up Eddie just seems so sure about it already. Steve doesn’t want to make him think he’s having second thoughts. Thinks maybe it’s better to not say anything, to wait and let it come up naturally. 

He thinks maybe they’ll talk about it tonight. The kids had joked about them all evening, about how fast they were moving.

Mike had made some snarky comment about them moving to a city where they knew no one and how awkward it would be if they crashed and burned and they’d have to share a bedroom. 

Eddie had laughed, said it was good they weren’t gonna crash and burn then. But, he’d also added that his band was also going so actually he would know people. 

It was just jokes, Steve knew that. That didn’t make it any less true though. Steve wouldn’t have anyone except Eddie, sure he liked the guys in his band but they weren’t his friends. Steve would have Eddie and Eddie would have his band. It suddenly seemed like a big deal.

He expects Eddie to also feel it, to get worried and bring it up but he doesn’t. If he is worried he isn’t saying anything, just like Steve isn’t.

8 days until moving day.

There’s a knock on Steve's door and when he opens Gareth is standing there. Steve is a lot confused about it but lets him in. 

“Uh,” he starts a little unsure, “do you want anything to drink or?” He offers, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say or do. 

Gareth shakes his head, looking about as uncomfortable as Steve feels. Shuffling around where he’s standing and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. “No, I’m gonna leave again soon. I just came here to say something.” 

Steve gestures for him to speak, “I’m listening.” 

Gareth doesn’t immediately say anything, he shuffles some more and looks around the room before his eyes land on Steve again, a determined look in them. 

“Look, I like you. I know Eddie loves you.”

Steve can’t help but smile a little at that, even though he’s starting to suspect he’s in for a shovel talk. 

“And like, I probably wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t dated for very long at all and are about to move in together in a city four hours away.”Gareth pauses and waits to speak again until Steve nods, showing he’s listening. 

“Eddie does things without thinking. He doesn’t think about the consequences, not anything, just does. I love that about him, it’s the reason our band has gotten anywhere at all, but it also means that he gets hurt a lot, disappointed a lot. He can handle it with most things, he won’t be able to handle it with you.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asks even though he’s pretty sure he already knows. 

Gareth looks pained but continues, “I’m saying that if you aren’t one hundred percent sure about moving with him, if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”

Steve can’t suppress his flinch. He expected Gareth to say he needed to be sure, that if he wasn’t he needed to tell Eddie. He wasn’t expecting him to say he shouldn’t, no, couldn’t go. 

Gareth catches it and narrows his eyes, “I mean it Steve, it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.” He steps closer to Steve, getting into his space. “So, if you’re not absolutely sure,” he pauses, steps even closer, “Do. Not. Go.” He punctuates every word and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

6 days until moving day.

Steve needs to talk with Eddie about it now, can’t ignore it anymore. He isn’t gonna just not go like Gareth told him to do. No, he’ll talk to Eddie and it will be fine. 

They’re in his bed together, laying next to each other. Skin touching skin and a comfortable silence between them. Now is as good a time as any. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Mhh?” He hums, shifting slightly next to him. 

“What happens if something goes wrong when we move?” 

Eddie snorts, “what? Like if we get a flat wheel? I know how to change a wheel, sweetheart.” 

Steve smiles despite his nerves, tries to not imagine what Eddie would look like changing a wheel. 

“Good to know, but no, not quite what I meant.” 

Next to him, Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can properly look at Steve. 

“What did you mean?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear as he speaks. Steve has to focus harder than he’d like to admit to not get lost in it. Even the smallest touches have an effect on him when it’s Eddie. 

“What if something happens with us?” His voice is small and he can’t look at Eddie, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Remember that thing Mike said about us not really knowing anyone there? Just, what would happen?” 

“Baby,” Eddie gently grabs Steve’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face towards him. Steve easily follows but closes his eyes. 

“Baby, please look at me,” Eddie’s voice is even softer than before, and Steve has always been weak when it comes to Eddie asking him to do things so he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” he smiles, face open and tendrils of hair falling around it. He looks angelic and Steve almost forgets what they are talking about, too overwhelmed by the man next to him. 

Eddie keeps them on track though. 

“Like I told Mike, nothing will happen. We will be fine. But,” he continued before Steve can protest, “if something does, we both have jobs already, we’ve done this right. We will be able to save eventually. Quicker because we’re two people, paying rent and all that stuff on two salaries. If something happens we will have that security.” 

Steve relaxes then and Eddie must see it because he grins and continues, “now if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner, princess.”

Steve groans and shoves Eddie away. Mostly to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face just from Eddie calling him princess. Judging by the way Eddie cackles he doesn’t have to see Steve blush to know the effect it has on him. 

He reaches out and pulls Steve in against his chest. “Worst case scenario we have to move back. Wayne will probably pretend to be unhappy about it but he’ll let me take over his trailer again. And, I know you have complicated feelings about this house, that your parents are the worst, but you’ll be able to come back if you need to.” 

“Okay,” Steve says, his worries mostly calmed. 

1 day until moving day. 

Steve and Eddie are spending the night apart. Eddie wanting to spend his last night with Wayne and both of them needing to do some last minute packing. 

Just as he finishes closing one of the last boxes the phone rings, he’s a bit confused about who would call him right now. His friends all having seen him earlier in the day to say goodbye. Maybe Eddie needs to double-check what time they decided to leave. 

He picks up but it’s not Eddie, or even one of the kids, who speaks.

“Steven,” his mother's shrill voice crackles on the other end of the line. 

“Hi mom,” he tries to hide his sigh as he speaks, doesn’t have the energy to get into anything with her right now, doesn’t want her to ruin his excitement. 

“I thought you were moving to Chicago alone?” 

His freezes, when he told his parents he was gonna move he didn’t say he was going alone but he also didn’t mention Eddie. He knew they wouldn’t like it, knew it would be easier to let them assume he was going by himself. 

“But I just got off a call with Mrs. Hagan and she told me that Tommy had said you were moving there with- with that cult boy? The one who’s wanted for murder?” 

Steve closes his eyes and this time he doesn’t bother hiding his sigh. Fucking Tommy, he’s always had a big mouth but Steve suspects that this hadn’t been him blabbering without thinking. No, Steve thinks Tommy knew exactly what he was doing telling his mom this piece of information. 

“His name is Eddie, and he was cleared of all charges. The ‘cult’ was literally just a school club.”

“So it’s true? You’re moving with him?” Her voice is sharp and even just hearing it over the phone makes him flinch.

“Yeah, we’re friends and it’s cheaper that way. We got a better apartment because we’re two people with a job each.” It’s such a simplification of the truth it’s almost a lie but Steve doesn’t think this is the time to come out to her. He hopes the ‘better apartment’ comment will calm her, it’s the sort of thing she cares about after all. Not for his safety and comfort though but for how it will reflect on her.

He’s not sure she actually hears him though because she hisses a vicious, “If you move with him you will not be welcome back Steven, this will be the last time we speak.” Before she hangs up on him. 

Steve carefully places the phone back in its cradle, then he’s left standing alone in the living room, both too shocked to move and not really shocked at all. 

He’s not close to his parents. Has slowly been understanding just how much they’ve neglected him. He’s been relieved about moving away, about being in another city where he won’t have to see them when they waltz back into town. But to never speak to them again? That’s a whole different thing. He still hoped that they’d be able to fix their relationship. That him not being dependent on them anymore would allow him to stand up for himself. That everything would get better. Now instead, the thing he thought would allow their relationship to get better is gonna destroy it forever. 

He debates calling Eddie, wants to tell him what his mom just said, wants to hear his voice, wants to let him make it better. He decides against it, he doesn’t wanna ruin Eddie’s last night with Wayne and he’ll see him tomorrow anyway. He can tell him in the car. 

He doesn’t call Robin either, she’ll insist on coming over and he knows she’s on a date with Nancy right now. He doesn’t wanna ruin that either, even though both of them will tell him he’s not, he knows he will be. He goes to bed instead, sleep seems like the best option right now, at least he won’t have to think if he’s asleep.

Moving day.

He ended up not really sleeping at all. Tossing and turning for hours and after finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning he wakes up just hours later from a nightmare. He doesn’t remember what it was about but can feel the lingering panic. He gives up on getting any more sleep, doesn’t wanna risk more nightmares when he’s alone.

He picks at his breakfast, still thrown off from the conversation with his mom the night before and not feeling like eating, so he gives up on that too. He spends the rest of the morning wandering around, touching the walls and the furniture in the house he grew up in. The house he’s been left alone in since he was nine. The house he both hates and loves. The house he will never be allowed to return to after today. 

Then the phone rings again, it’s probably his mom calling to ask if he’s decided to stay he thinks. It’s not, it turns out.

“Hi I’m Patricia, I’m looking for Steve Harrington?” A chipper voice says.

“This is him.”

“Okay well, good. I’m calling about a barista job you’re supposed to start with us next week.” 

“Yeah?” Steve chews on his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry but due to our rent being raised we’re having to do cutbacks. Since you haven’t signed your contract with us yet, it’s the first one to go.” 

“You’re firing me?” Steve asks, it’s not entirely right since he hasn’t started yet but it’s all he can think to say. 

“Essentially,” Patricia responds, “I’m sorry for the short notice.” 

“Okay,” he says, his voice void of emotion, “thank you for calling.” 

He hangs up without waiting for a response, he doesn’t have the energy to be polite. 

He barely has time to let the information sink in before his doorbell rings. Eddie on the other side of the door with a wide grin on his face. 

“Did you oversleep?” He jokes. 

Steve’s confused for a second but then he realizes he’s still in his pajamas, that he’s spent the whole morning wandering around like a ghost in his house not getting any of the things he needed to do done. 

He hasn’t packed the bag of all his essentials. He hasn’t gotten dressed. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth. What he has done is get fired from a job he never even started.

He sees Eddie’s teasing smile, the combination of it and his sudden joblessness tugs at something in his brain, brings back the conversation they had last week.

“Now, if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner princess.”

He doesn’t have a job. He’ll have to live off Eddie and what little savings he has left. Become a responsibility Eddie doesn’t want, a burden probably.

“Worst case scenario we move back”, “you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

If he leaves now he won’t be able to come back. 

Gareths words play back in his mind too.

“if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”, “it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.”

“I’m not going,” Steve hears himself say as he steps back from the hand Eddie reaches out to him. 

“You’re not-“ Eddie looks so confused. “Like today? Do you need extra time? We can postpone by a couple of days but-“

He’s not getting it. Steve interrupts him, needs to make him understand because he can’t listen to him try to come up with solutions. 

“No, Eddie. I’m not going it all.” 

The words feel wrong in his mouth but he forces them out anyways. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks and it fucking ruins him. He feels his carefully blank expression break, despair showing through. 

“I can’t leave Hawkins, the kids,” he has to look away from Eddie as he says this. Knows it’s the only thing Eddie won’t question, knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t mean as much to Steve as the kids do. “They need me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going?” Eddie asks and Steve didn’t know it was possible but he breaks even more from that, from Eddie not fighting him. 

I didn’t, he thinks, I don’t know why I’m saying this now. If you ask me to stop and just go with you I will. 

“A couple of days ago,” he lies. 

It’s silent then, just their breathing and the distant sound of cars down the street being heard. Eventually, Eddie breaks it.

“Steve?”

His voice cracks in the middle. Steve can hear the plea for him to take it all back and he nearly does, has to swallow the words creeping up his throat before they get out. 

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. He turns around, closing the door behind him. Destroying their future and breaking the last bit of his heart in the process.

He doesn’t get more than two steps into the house before his legs give out beneath him. He stays there, sitting on the floor for what feels like forever. 

After some time he hears a car drive away and he knows Eddie has left. He feels silent tears start streaming down his face that soon turns into sobs. Making him curl in on himself and gasp for air. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying until he can’t anymore and then just sitting there. But after a while, he’s interrupted by a loud ringing. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he picks up the god-forsaken phone. 

“Hello?” He rasps, his voice dull and raw from crying.

“Steven. You made the right decision and stayed I take it?” His mother asks.

“Yes.” He says and hangs up on her. 

[sade-alicious]

im writing a short fanfic rn and i am SO CLOSE to being done i just need to fill in a conversation its so ANNOYINGGGG😭😭

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King Seb :D

[anastacialy]

y'know, i keep making a habit of swinging my bat at hornets nests, but i have to say i'm getting so, so tired of people complaining about shows not making perfect sense when they aren't even close to done. we're four episodes into this season of doctor who. we're four episodes into this season of bridgerton. and yet in both fandoms i keep seeing people whine that such and such didn't make sense or it wasn't explained all the way and by god you guys i think maybe explanations might come later in the season. this is something most viewers will recognize as being called a 'plot.'

[ninyard]

just finished tsc for the second time so naturally i'm back on my jeremy bullshit!!!!!! if you're the person who commented on the first chapter of the banquet fic saying you read a snippet from ch2 from my tumblr just know you've made the lives of everyone who follows me on here considerably more annoying as i take that comment as blanket permission to continue posting snippets as I write

[kiyomitakada]

i am going to scream (wip rambling in the tags)

[astranite]

--whiney rant and vent--- starts at tumblr but descends into my life.

Fucking tumblr!! *grabs tumblr and aggressively shakes it*

Some new hell update has made it so every time I reblog a post, i go right back to the top of my dash and have to scroll half a mile through the posts Ive already seen to get back to the ones i havent yet seen and want to see!! And even with the scroll bar it takes ages and breaks the loading and makes it nearly genuinely unusable!!!

But Im still going to even though it sucks, because tumblr is my designated scroll and look at characters time and be with mutuals. And yes this is a very small whiny thing to rant about, especially given the state of the damn world, but with the rest of my life imploding in many numbered crisises that even one of would be apparently considered a fairly major thing to have to deal with im now realsising because through massive amounts of avoidance id just gone "this is fine" despite being very reasonably banned from the word fine by 5 different people and then me, and then others going 'wow that really is alot' semihorrified, and I awkwardly laugh because i am used to this and its not that bad and whatever stupid shit i tell myself to keep going.

So yes, whining about tumblr because at this point its a load bearing coping mechanism. And its somewhat a last straw because i am barely hanging on as it is but ill deal with this like everything else because there isnt any other options.

[plulp]

hey guys sorry for the radio silence (4 days) :( Im Sick

but in other news: almost at 200 followers!!!! so if any of you want me to do the same thing i did last time (maybe not as much) or something different i can to celebrate :) since i should be free to draw however much after this week (have some things to take care of (while im sick))

[powerfulkicks]

fucccccckkkkkk i really need to write that octet video essay that's been percolating in my head for years