#apparently the new guy is originally from California

[cultivating-wildflowers]

🐻

[moonlightspencie]

Next to You

Description: Trying to ignore the feelings you have for your best friend can cause complications. Especially when you find out what they’d risk for you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cases (typical for cm), fluffff (mutual pining, friends to lovers, the usual)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then took on a new life on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

The last place I ever expected my career to go was working for the government. A stuffy office job was never my style. Luckily, the government job I found myself working was far from a boring life shoved away in a cubicle. Much to the dismay of my family, and to my absolute delight, I got to work pretty much the coolest job I could think of besides being an astronaut.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out, strolling towards the bullpen. I dropped my stuff at my desk, and went straight for the kitchenette to find Penelope and Derek sitting at the little table near the counter.

“Hey, lovebirds,” I said with a wink.

“Oh, come on. You know you’re my number one,” Penelope answered, throwing a wink back at me.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Whoa, there. I thought you were my babygirl?”

Pen shrugged with a smirk. “You know I could never give you up.”

I laughed at the pair, grabbing a mug and filling it to the brim with coffee. I sipped at it, just watching them interact, adding in a little quip here and there until I heard JJ.

“Got a case, guys.”

She nodded towards the conference room as she walked past us. I topped off my mug again, following her to the room with the other two not far behind. We all filed in, taking our seats. Hotch and Spencer showed up a minute after we all got comfortable and JJ started speaking as soon as they hit the room.

Spence took his seat next to me with a tight-lipped grin my direction.

“The bodies of three young women have recently turned up in Portola, California, about an hour from Reno, Nevada.”

She introduced them as she went through the slides of where their bodies were found. Lakes and woods surrounded the area, making it easy to hide them without being traced back to somebody. I grimaced at a close up of the face of one of the victims. No matter how often we had to look at stuff like that, I could never quite force myself into thinking it was normal or just a routine. My discomfort must have been apparent, because Spencer reached up to place a hand on my shoulder for a moment, giving me a little smirk. I reached over to cover his hand with my own for a moment before turning back to give my full attention to the case.

“Any connection between the victims?” Derek asked.

JJ shook her head. “None, besides the fact they’re in their 20s. Different ethnicities, hair colors, lifestyles…”

“Very strange. It’s probably not a personal grudge against somebody then. Any signs of sexual assault or impotence?” Spencer asked.

“No, they didn’t find any evidence of abuse on the victims at all, actually, besides a few minor bruises. Probably from the victims attempting to fight back.”

I furrowed my brow. “So, what did he want with them?”

“That’s what we have to find out, and quickly,” JJ sighed, pulling out some photos of a girl in her 20s and passing them around. “A young woman named Rebecca Stevenson recently went missing in the area, and it’s very likely she was abducted. Her car was found on the side of the road, the keys still in the ignition. I’m willing to bet she was taken by our unsub.”

We all glanced at the photos her parents had sent in, committing her face to memory as well as we could.

“Alright, everyone grab your go-bags. Wheels up in 20,” Hotch concluded.

I huffed out a sigh as I plopped myself down in the seat next to Spencer on the plane. I slouched down, shutting my eyes for a moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just— I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Let’s just get our job done as well as we can, and hope the rest works out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Usually am.”

I scoffed out a laugh, opening my eyes. “You, Spencer Reid, are one cocky little…”

“It’s Dr. Spencer Reid, actually,” he interrupted.

We both broke out in a fit of laughter.

“You’re ridiculous.” I shook my head, looking up to him.

“We can be ridiculous together.” He nudged my shoulder with a smirk.

“What are you talking about? I’m the normal one.”

He raised a brow.

“Don’t you give me that look.” I joked.

We touched down in a couple of hours, and headed towards the local police precinct. We went through all of the formalities with local officers, explaining the situation and our procedures as much as we could before starting a profile on the unsub.

We ended up needing to take a few hours to sleep before heading to the families of the victims found and Rebecca’s family the next day.

“If we could just have a look at her room…” Spencer started.

“Of course! Whatever you need to be able to find her.”

Rebecca’s mom ushered us through the home, straight to her bedroom.

“She’s been staying here with me. Ever since her father passed…” Her eyes welled with tears. “It’s been hard. For us both. She was— So sweet to come back to stay with me during all of that. I just… Please, whatever you need. Find her.”

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promise we will do our best to bring Rebecca home.”

A few tears slipped down her face. “Thank you.”

I nodded, and she turned to leave us in the room. Spencer watched me for a moment.

“Let’s find her.” I nodded, beginning to look around her bedroom. I found a laptop and opened it. “Any ideas about the password, genius?”

He took the computer from me, sitting next to me on her bed. He started making a few guesses, somehow breaking in within a few minutes.

“Got it.”

“Awesome. What do we got?”

“Let’s see.”

He started searching around for any sliver of a clue as to what happened to her. It took several minutes before he found something.

“Uh, she was on a dating site, and had a lot of matches,” he said, searching through some of the messages.

“Think that could be something?”

“Maybe. Can you call Hotch and ask if any of the others were on this site?”

I nodded, dialing him up. We chatted for some time before I was able to hang up. Spencer watched me expectantly.

“They were all on the same site.”

“Okay, let’s find the commonalities.”

We scoured their profiles, finding only one common name: Andrew. But all we knew about him was a first name, age range, and a picture that clearly wasn’t of him. Luckily, we had the worlds best internet stalker on the team. Spencer and I went back to the precinct to meet Derek there, and hopped on the phone with Penelope until we figured out who we were going after. It didn’t take long before she found the most likely candidate.

“Uh… Andrew! Yes, his name is Andrew McClain, I’m sending you all his address now.”

I could almost hear the smile on Penelope’s face at her ability to discover pretty much anything she set her mind to. I would’ve smiled too if it weren’t for the dire circumstances we were working with.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Derek said back before hanging up.

He immediately called Hotch, letting him know what the situation was. The three of us practically ran to the car from the precinct, alerting Emily and JJ of the situation as we went. Derek tore out of the lot, speeding towards our destination as fast as he could go. We met Hotch and the unit chief in front of a mansion.

“No wonder he hid this all so well,” I said under my breath, staring up at the massive place.

“Makes sense why he had girls off of dating sites feeling okay coming over, too. Money can buy a lot of things, and unfortunately love is one of them,” Spencer said, coming to stand next to me. “Or, well, whatever form of affection can be reached through a sense of security.”

“That’s disgusting. Taking advantage of those girls like that.” I shook my head, looking away and towards the team instead. “They never saw it coming.”

“They never do.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at whatever I seemed to be fixed on instead of the house.

Emily and JJ showed up not too long afterwards, and we all quickly went over the plan. We knew who and what we were looking for, and it seemed like it’d be pretty straightforward. We just hoped that we’d find Rebecca alive.

We snuck in as quietly as we could, tiptoeing around the mansion and checking each and every room and door we could find. I was following Hotch and the unit chief as they opened up the door to a bedroom in a downstairs hallway.

“Damn it,” I heard Hotch before I walked into the small room. He said something else to the chief that I couldn’t quite make out.

My steps slowed and eventually came to a stop in the doorway when I saw her. I really wanted him dead now. I huffed out a harsh breath as more agents walked towards the room Hotch was in, and shoved past them all. I rounded a corner in the maze of a house, getting up the steps to the second floor as quickly and quietly as I could, nearly throwing Spencer off his feet as I reached the top.

“Hey,” he said, though he meant it more as a question.

“They found her downstairs. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Hey, whoa.” He reached out to grab my arm as I tried to move past him. “We’ll get him, but don’t go looking alone.”

I nodded hesitantly as we both moved forward, peeking into each room before we heard a noise coming from a room near the end of the hallway. I stepped up first, gun drawn as Spencer opened the door for me. At first I didn’t see anything, then I heard him and whipped around to the far left corner of the room with Spencer not far from my side.

“What are you doing in my house,” he questioned, moving forward ever-so-slightly.

I pointed my gun at him. “We found Rebecca, Andy. You are one sick—”

“Don’t move!” Spencer interrupted, stepping ahead of me as Andy’s hand slowly came back from where he had attempted to reach in his back pocket. “What do you have?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

I stepped to be right next to Spence. “Whatever it is, Andy, it’s in your best interest to keep your hands where we can see them.”

We heard the footsteps of our team starting to trail up the stairs at the sound of our voices. Then, panic struck Andy’s face and he made a movement that was way too sudden for my liking.

Spencer threw himself in front of me before I even had a chance to react, using his body as a human shield. He threw his arms around me, holding tightly, and all we heard was a faint ‘click’.

I stared up at him, both of our eyes wide in shock. My mouth gaped open as if there were anything I could say in a moment like that. Spencer narrowly escaped death because of a jammed gun. He almost sacrificed himself to save me, and the only thing that stopped him was a faulty weapon.

“Spence” was all I could manage to whisper as we stood there, his arms still tight around me as agents made their way in and out with the unsub.

He unwound himself from me, taking only half a step backwards. His hands found my shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I…” I scoffed, trailing off. “Spencer. You could have died. What were you thinking?”

He put his hands up defensively.

“I wasn’t going to let you die, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to see you die either!” My voice rose, anger settling in with the sense of terror that still lingered. “Why would you do that?”

“I was protecting you.” He kept his cool, and it almost made me more upset.

“I can’t— What if the gun didn’t jam?”

“That doesn’t matter—“

“That doesn’t matter?! Spencer, you would have died. You would have died protecting me, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.”

I felt the tears beginning to fall. “Why would you do that?”

“Oh, oh no. Y/N please don’t cry.” He pulled me in again, stroking my hair and shushing me as he did.

“I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re here, we’re safe. It’s okay.”

He held me for a few minutes before I could compose myself enough to let go, drying my tears. We went back to the precinct after a quick check-up to make sure everyone was alright, and got the hell out of Dodge as quickly as we could. I was grateful we didn’t have to stay much longer.

We got on the plane, and I took my usual spot next to Spencer, though still unsure what to say or do now that he had literally risked his life to save mine. I let the silence sit with us for a while before deciding to say something.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, quietly this time. My anger had gone, and now all that I was left with was worry.

“It was nothing, Y/N. The gun jammed, we’re both okay. You can’t focus on the ‘what if’ here, just try to look at what did happen. Please.” He pleaded with me, looking at me with those sweet, pleading eyes he knew how to use a little too well.

I only sighed, knowing this wasn’t a battle I’d ever win.

“You scared the hell out of me, Spence. I just— I don’t get why you’d do that.”

“I— I’d do anything for you.” He shook his head as he spoke as if it were the obvious thing to say.

It all came crashing down around me at once and I felt like I was walking around in a daze until we got back to the BAU. All the time I had spent trying to convince myself that my feelings would fade was all for naught— I don’t know how I could’ve ever believed that in the first place, even for a second. How couldn’t I love him, or at least feel as attached to him as I did. It was almost laughable to believe that I could have come to any other conclusion, and as much as I deeply and desperately wanted to keep my feelings a secret, something in me knew I couldn’t anymore. It was too much to keep hidden, especially from him. I just wished I had more time.

Practically the whole team had left soon after we got back and had gathered what was needed for a trip back home. It was late afternoon, and Hotch wanted everyone fresh for the next day anyways. But Spencer just had to be there. Of course, he had to be the one person left there when all I wanted was a chance to gather my thoughts completely alone. And of course, he had to speak.

“Hey,” he called from where he stood at his desk, “Come here for a second?”

My feet shuffled over, barely giving me a chance to say whether or not that’s what I even wanted to do.

“Yeah?” I questioned, getting little-by-little closer to him.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You’re being really quiet, that isn’t you.” He looked concerned. I wanted to reach out and touch him. “Was it the case.”

“No, it’s— I’m fine, Spence.” I tried to smile, and I’m certain it looked like a pathetic attempt.

He only raised a brow.

“What?” I sighed.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.” Spencer half smiled with an expectantly raised brow. He stroked my arm gently for a moment before taking a seat in his desk chair.

I breathed in deeply, leaning against the desk where he was.

“I don’t know how to say this,” I almost laughed as I spoke.

He shrugged. “I’m sure whatever it is— it’ll be fine. When has it ever not been?”

I nodded, glancing around as if I would find the courage I needed floating around the room, ready for me to grab hold of. It wasn’t there, though, but I knew I shouldn’t keep him waiting.

“I don’t want to call it love because I’m not convinced that I even know what love is. I will say, though, that I like you Spence. I think about you all the time, and I know nothing is going to come of it. I’ve made peace with that. I made peace with it the moment I really saw you for the first time. When you turned around and smiled at me because neither of us knew what to do on that case in Washington a few months ago. I can play it like a movie in my head. I knew I was screwed, but it’s okay because it has to be.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t keep hiding it all. Especially after what happened today, I just couldn’t.”

There was a moment of silence, breath baited as if there were anything left to say. Whatever speck of courage I found while speaking had completely and totally left me. It felt like an eternity before I could speak again.

“I’m sorry. I’m— I should go.”

He nodded, speaking quietly. “Yeah.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pushing down all of the feelings that were bubbling up inside of me. I nodded back at him, packing up the things I needed at my desk and making a beeline for the door.

The fresh air hit my face and forced me to breathe for the first time, though now a racing heart and eyes welling with tears were in company too. I blinked quickly to try to rid them, and to adjust to the bright sun. Too much had happened in the past 48 hours and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. We couldn’t save Rebecca, Spencer almost got shot, and now he probably wouldn’t speak to me again. I could hardly get home without breaking down, and the floodgates opened as soon as I hit the couch in my apartment.

I had pretty much cried myself dry when I heard a knock at my door. I wiped my eyes the best I could and walked over, slowly peeking around the door as I opened it. My heart sank.

“Spence?”

His eyes were wide, and he just looked at me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” He stared as he took in my reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I wanted to disappear.

“I’m fine, Spencer. What do you need? I’ve had a long day.” I rubbed at my face absentmindedly.

He swallowed. “I, um— Can, could I come in?”

I nodded and he slid past me, practically sprinting to my couch, and taking a seat. I closed the door and went to go sit next to him. I watched him for a moment, but he still didn’t speak.

“Look, Spencer, I’m sorry for—“

“No.” He shook his head.

I stuttered. “Wh— Excuse me?”

“Uh… After you left, after earlier, I-I talked to Morgan.” He stared at me again as if I had any clue what he was talking about.

“Okay?”

“He…” He breathed out hard before composing himself. “I misunderstood. He, quite literally, smacked some sense into me. I didn’t understand what you were saying, I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What do you mean? How was what I said hard to understand?”

“Well, when you said the part about knowing nothing would happen. I don’t— I guess I interpreted that as you didn’t want anything to happen.”

“That’s not…”

“No, I know that now. I know,” he said, scrubbing at his face as he looked away from me. “Um… I don’t know how to say this.”

My heart began racing for a different reason.

“I thought you didn’t want me. Like you felt bad that you liked me but didn’t want to be with me. I just…” He shrugged. “I-I guess I kinda screwed it all up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looked to me again, a blush creeping onto his face.

He shook his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “I ramble.”

I laughed, unable to keep it in at that point. “You think that would stop me? Spencer, I literally never shut up. Why would I hold that against you? I love when you get excited, even when you’re talking my ear off.”

He smiled, a boyish joy taking over. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I paused. “Spence, you’re amazing. I’ve always thought so. Not to mention you risked your life for me today.”

“Do you— So, you like me?”

“I pretty much gave you a whole confession earlier.”

He looked away, nodding quickly. “I knew it the first time I saw you.”

“You— What? You knew I liked you?”

His brow raised as he glanced back at me. “No! No, I had no clue. I knew I liked you the first time I saw you. You were really nice to me the first time we talked, and I thought you were beautiful. Plus, you’re so smart and funny and you’ve never been mean to me about how much I talk, especially when I remember something about a case or something that has to do with a case that I think could—”

“Spence,” I whispered, scooting in closer to him on the couch. “As much as I love your rambling, I’d really love if you’d just kiss me already.”

He grinned with a little laugh under his breath, leaning in closer.

“Hey.”

I raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Before we kiss, can I ask you something?”

I tried not to smile. “One question.”

“Would you want to go out with me?”

“Depends on how good this kiss is.”

I started laughing, but was cut short when his lips pressed into mine. His hands grasped my face, pulling me closer. I grabbed his shirt, kissing back with equal fervor. We stayed connected for some time, but it was still shorter than I would have liked: my preferred time would be eternity.

We took a moment to catch our breath, giggling like a couple of kids.

“Was that good enough to date me?” He questioned with a smile.

I ran a hand through his hair, smirking up at him, still practically dazed.

“If I knew it was gonna be that great, I wouldn’t have ever said I’d date you if you did well. Now I think I might have to marry you.”

“Maybe we can try a date first, but I’m open,” he laughed, stroking my cheek. Then his face dropped slightly. “Who’s going to tell the team?”

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

[fruitcoops]

Debut

Day 5, ft. our black-cat lucid-dreaming king. Characters belong to @lumosinlove (sorry not sorry for what I did to your favorite boy) and header belongs to @noots-fic-fests!

Yesterday's movie: It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (1966)

TW for mentioned movie-murder (nobody actually dies)

Regulus spared the glass double-doors hardly a glance before wrinkling his nose. It was hot out, sticky and steamy, and the direct sun pummeling the entire courtyard reeked of early September. Busy chatter ran rampant around him between flashes of color and blurry faces.

“I’m dead,” Regulus said decisively.

Next to him, Leo rolled his eyes and caught his tennis ball on the downswing. “You haven’t even been to first period.”

“This—” Regulus gestured at the main building, blindingly bright and stuffier than any high school had the right to be. “This is hell. Ergo, dead.”

“Tell me again in pre-calc and I’ll believe you.”

“You tested out of pre-calc,” Regulus reminded him, laying back on the hood of Leo’s car. The blue paint was unspecific and unassuming, almost black in certain lights. “And that’s an ugly sweater you’d never wear.”

Grey cotton switched to thick stripes by the time he looked at Leo next; the stupid silver chain remained around his neck. Leo frowned down at himself. “I like this sweater.”

“Hmm.” The characters didn’t tend to care whether Regulus interacted with them much or not. The plot plodded on until he shook himself awake or the blare of an alarm did it for him. It rarely came to a conclusive end.

“Natalie got a phone call last night from some weirdo on the landline,” Leo continued, tossing his ball back up in the air. “They were talking about…I dunno, I think he was asking her questions? Sounded like a guy, anyway.”

“Horrifying.”

“Kasey’s going over tonight with Finn’s brother to keep her company.”

Regulus stretched his back against the windshield and looked to the vast sky. No matter how far he tilted his head back, the old tin roof was always visible. It was a mutated version of his memories—he hadn’t tried very hard to remember what it looked like from the outside. Sirius had excelled there. Every professor remembered his name.

A thread on his baggy jeans was coming loose. If he allowed the dream to progress, Leo would no doubt call him later to inform him, distraught, that Kasey and Finn’s brother (whose name slipped Regulus’ mind constantly) and probably Natalie had died in some explosively gory fashion. It would be distressing despite the fallacy of it all, he’d drag himself awake, and then it would be three o’clock in the morning and he would be sweaty with adrenaline. Regulus had enjoyed the party at Leo’s new house. He’d prefer not to pay the cost of attendance (a rare seasonal hangover) before he absolutely had to.

Denim-on-denim warned him of a new presence before he could actively pick a new story. “O’Hara.”

“Babe, is he bothering you?” Finn’s voice dragged and drawled with California haze. Under his arm, Tremblay narrowed his eyes at Regulus. His bubblegum gave a violent pop.

“Not too bad,” Leo said playfully.

Did Finn even own a denim jacket? God, he probably did. Even Regulus’ imagination couldn’t have pinned something that specific from nothing. Maybe he should just let the rest of this murderous Riverdale-ass nonsense play out in its original form to punish that fashion nightmare.

“Can you wear a hoodie like a normal person?” he yawned. Apparently, he was overtired even in his sleep.

Finn fixed him with a comically disgusted look. “Why are you even here?”

Where the fuck had Regulus picked that accent from? “This is my high school,” he said. “I spent the whole night at your house, can I have some peace and quiet here?”

Logan popped another bubble. His scowl held far too little legitimate danger; if nothing else, that would have tipped Regulus off. The original outright animosity had rested much heavier on him than teenage pouting.

But there—on the steps. “Calisse de crisse,” he muttered, swinging himself down from the hood of Leo’s car.

The courtyard was almost perfect under his feet, as if he was feeling the asphalt through his old loafers. He had hated those goddamn shoes. He came to a sharp halt, right as his shadow fell across lined paper marked with meticulous, infuriating lines.

“Go away.”

Sirius blinked up at him. “Hi.”

“Stop,” Regulus insisted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t go to high school together.” Honestly, it was so embarrassing for his brain to mix it up this badly. Valley-Girl Finn O’Hara was a nightmare in and of itself; the least his imagination could do was keep track of a timeline. “Put your physics away and leave.”

Sirius’ brow creased. “How did you know I was doing homework?”

“Unlucky guess.”

“How did you know it was—"

“Because you’re always doing your fucking physics in my nightmares!” Regulus dragged a hand down his face and gripped the back of his own neck. It felt like nothing, not even air. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face toward the clouds. “Yes, I understand, I hated the classes Sirius excelled in as an extension of my own complex inner world, merci, au revoir.”

When he looked down again, Sirius was gone. Remus Lupin leaned on the railing by the bay windows, looking out over the river. He had a book in one hand and a bloody knife in the other.

Regulus stared at him.

“No.”

It was Leo when he blinked. A dark robe and everything, and that tennis ball instead of a book. His face got a little fuzzy in profile, but cleared up when he looked at Regulus head-on.

Regulus tipped his head back and forth. “Better.”

He walked with Leo through the never-ending halls. Some were direct rip-offs of his actual high school, down to the navy lockers and their silver buckles. Others had been borrowed: a staircase from elementary school, a music room from Steinhardt, the artificial glow of Sirius’ basement skating rink around a corner. His stomach swooped at the sight of the broken dumbwaiter he and Sirius had used for hide and seek, and he ground his teeth hard.

He had his loafers on. His khakis were tight on his thighs. Leo’s footsteps made no sound.

“I think you’re supposed to be a serial killer,” Regulus noted on their third circuit of the second floor. “With a mask and everything.”

“Oh.” Leo sounded almost disappointed. “I mean, I could?”

“I might just be bad at imagining that.”

“Should’ve stuck with Lupin,” Leo agreed.

“I can go off and find him—”

“Don’t leave me here,” Leo groaned, walking backward for a few floppy steps that made him look more like himself than he had the whole time.

Regulus huffed. “Neither of you pose much of a danger to me.”

“I think we do, in a way.”

--

No.

The thought was forceful enough to pull Regulus to the surface. He exhaled hard, blinking fast until his left eye decided to get with the program and open properly.

The stove’s electric clock told him it was just past two in the morning. Not bad.

He sighed. His feet, tangled in the fresh sheets Leo had laid out for him, still felt too compressed. That explained the loafers. He could get up for a few minutes; make a snack, take a walk around the still-sparse main floor of the house. He didn’t hear anyone else up yet.

Or he could stay here, burrowed in a quilt that smelled lightly of magnolia. The sheets let his legs free when he stretched, still shaking off the scent of bubblegum and industrial cleaning solution. He was tired. Perhaps a little drunk, enough to dull the oncoming throbbing behind his temple. The sugar rush was long dead.

Regulus tucked his nose down into a butter-yellow square and shut his eyes. Being asleep was an exhausting business. He had too many questions. There was too much to nitpick. Too much psychoanalysis to avoid.

The sheer audacity of Leo to pull some therapy trick in Regulus’ own dream. As if he wouldn’t be aware of it, as if he’d fall into the trap that easily. Regulus muffled a frown in the quilt. If Leo, the real one, was an actual danger to anything but the occasional low doorframe, he wouldn’t be on the foldout in the first place. Really, it was just lazy writing.

Do better, Regulus thought as he shuffled deeper into his cocoon. From the top, this time.

[vxnillavampir]

All I Wanted .1 - Nice Shot

you thought your life was over until you stumbled your way in to jackson. being the new girl around town means that someone has to show you the ropes and what to expect on patrols.

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

content warnings: some violent themes, reader takes out a couple of dudes and infected, joel makes an appearance, reader has relations with a man (briefly mentioned, barely even an aspect of the story), bad writing, not proofread. even though it's not smut, please be 18+ when interacting with my account thank you <3

a/n: hi…so i originally posted a little snippet of this on my old blog, in case this seems like something you have read before! i decided to just post the full chapter here. this is part of a multi part series i have in my drafts. who knows if the other parts will see the light of day.

SUPPORT PALESTINE

word count: 2.3k

November.

The ice-cold water being thrown in your face is what woke you up.

"We're going to need you to start talking." A blurred man kept pacing back and forth in front of you, his southern accent distinct. You shake your head to come to your senses and notice that your hands are tied behind you. The room you were in was dimly lit, the limited daylight peeking through the windows. What time is it? How long were you out? "Tommy take it easy," said another man with the same accent, "she's just a kid."

"I’m not a kid." You spat out.

"So, she speaks." The one that was apparently named Tommy knelt down in front of you. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" His voice was stern.

"California." Your voice sounded pretty groggy, and you cleared your throat to try and get yourself together.

"Jackson is a long way aways...what brought you all the way out here?" You glanced over at the other man who had his arms crossed. He was comfortably leaning against the wall waiting for you to answer. "I had to get out."

"You were...in pretty bad shape when I found you out on the trails. Are you infected?" The other man spoke up.

Tommy jolted up and stormed over to the mystery man. "You didn't even check to see if she was infected? What the hell is wrong with you, Joel!"

"I didn't see any bites when I picked her up..."

"I'm not. I was only passed out because I hadn't eaten in a few days..." Your stomach chimed in at the perfect time and both men looked over at you, relaxing a bit.

Joel sighed and uncrossed his arms. "You can eat when we figure out if you're going to be a problem or not." A problem? You guys are the ones that tied me up! You thought. "I don't mean to be any trouble. You can untie me, and I'll be on my way."

"Not with injuries like that," Joel gestured to your several cuts and stab wounds, "how'd you get those anyway?"

"I had to fight like hell out of my hometown. I don't feel like reliving it just yet." Your voice trailed off, feeling a bit faint once again from lack of food. The bearded man nodded slowly and unbound your wrists. Joel helped you up and your legs couldn't help but shake and wobble. "Woah, easy." He said softly and wrapped his strong arm around you to help you up.

    "Hey, don't go passing out on me again." Calloused fingers tilted your chin up and you opened your eyes. You looked around at your new surroundings. A bar? Where the hell did Joel take you? "Food as promised." He passed a bowl of food over in your direction. You two were sat in one of the few booths while soft rock played on one of the speakers. It has been a long time since you had electricity. The smell of hearty stew filled your nose and your stomach growled once again. Before you could even think, you were stuffing your face. "Okay slow down or else you're going to choke." The man chuckled in front of you. "Now why don't you go ahead and tell me your name?"

You swallowed before speaking up to introduce yourself. "That's a nice name you got. As you probably already know by now, I'm Joel, and the other guy is my brother. 'S name's Tommy...sorry he gave you such a hard time."

"It's fine...I guess. This place is pretty nice...at least from what I've seen in the two minutes I have been conscious."

"Yeah, sometimes Jackson has its moments. Better than a QZ."

"I wouldn't know. I just stayed on my family farm this whole time. I've heard some stories about life in a QZ, though."

"Family farm, huh? Sounds like you're one of the lucky ones." Joel cracked half a smile, thinking about what it would be like to live by himself on a patch of land.

"Yeah. Guess you could say that..."

"Y'know...we actually do need someone to join our patrol team. Do you have any experience with that?"

"I mostly just fixed fences and made sure our livestock was taken care of. Since we were so far away from the city, I never had to take down any of those creeps at the time if that's what you're wondering...but I can handle myself."

That part was clear. You can't travel over a thousand miles on foot without being able to take care of yourself. "You could stay here for a night and rest up. We can see how you do on one of our routes in the morning. What do you say?"

"Yes! Just as long as you don't tie me up again." A dry laugh escaped your lips before you continued to devour your food.

            The next day you woke up bright and early in a studio apartment that Joel and Tommy had near their place. It was nice to actually sleep on a bed for once. After you got ready for the day you heard a knock at the door. An impatient auburn-haired woman stood in front of you, her arms crossed. "Uh, hey. I'm Ellie. Tommy told me I needed to show you the ropes. Whatever that means."

You nodded. "Okay. I'll just go grab my bag." You shifted around your things and stuffed your backpack with a few necessities you might need like your trusty bow and some arrows, along with your daggers and emergency pistol.

Ellie stood by a horse that you can only assume is hers, arms still crossed. You couldn't tell if she was cold or if she was just pissed off. "Got everything?" You nodded, watching her as she effortlessly got on the horse. "The stables are empty so...we're gonna have to share." She said awkwardly. "Oh..." You breathed out and attempted to climb on.

"Here, let me help." She extended out her hand and you reluctantly accepted it. All of this was so embarrassing. You have been on horses before and even grew up with them, but your injuries made it difficult to get on your own this time. Once you managed to get up Ellie signaled for the horse to take off. The jolt of movement caused you to instinctively grab onto her waist so you wouldn't fall off the damn thing.

Ellie couldn't help but feel a little smug about this situation, I mean, she had a pretty girl holding on to her for dear life. "So, I'm guessing that you never ride?" She called out to you.

"I ride a lot of things." You joked to ease how awkward this whole experience is, hearing a snort from Ellie. "Awful joke, new girl."

The scenery of this trail was absolutely beautiful, the lively green foliage was everywhere in this forest. It was well maintained—probably because of Ellie. "Wow..." You said in almost a whisper.

"What?" Ellie glanced around to make sure there was no danger.

"It's so...green."

"You don't have plants where you're from? They're everywhere. Literally."

"California is rarely this green. It's called the Golden State for a reason..." Mentioning the state where you're from sent you into a fight or flight state. The trauma you experienced was triggered just by thinking about your hometown.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Your mother was still...a little too still. She was standing over the dead body of your father. Her head turned to meet your eyes at the sound of your voice, her skin paler than usual and her mouth covered in blood. She was infected. Before you knew it, she was sprinting at you and thankfully your adrenaline kicked in.

She chased you out of the house and into the barn where you kept your livestock. The cows mooing at the sight of your uncharacteristically feral mother. She tried to hop the gates to get to the animals and you quickly grabbed the rake resting on the barn door, impaling her with it, the rake going through her neck with ease and the sound of her blood gurgling would be seared into your brain forever.

"Hey, you with me new girl?" Ellie's raspy voice broke you out of your flashback, your arms practically shaking around her torso. "Y-yeah...just...a bad memory."

"Do you...want to talk about it?" She suggested, not knowing if you would actually take her up on the offer or not. After all, you two had just met. "No. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I totally get it." All of the stories Ellie kept secret would surprise you.

"Alright, this is far enough." She signaled for the horse to stop and helped you down off the saddle. "Stay here, Shimmer. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." You couldn't help but crack a slight smile at how Ellie communicates with her horse. The sight of her chiseled hand stroking Shimmer sent a shiver down your spine. God, how long has it been since you saw another mentally coherent hot person? Get it together.

She stepped away from the horse and ducked down behind some bushes, her rough hand grabbing your wrist and gently dragging you down to meet her level. "Hunters." She gestured towards the two men walking mindlessly along the trail. "Let's see what you can do."

You quietly take out the bow that you had packed earlier and a few arrows from your backpack. Your eyes fixated on the stalky blond man following a slightly shorter man, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the man in front of him bent down to tie his boots you took a deep breath to steady your hands and your mind. This is it. You released the arrow from your fingertips at the same time you released the air from your lungs. The arrow glided through the air before taking out the unknown man with a headshot. The sound of his body thudding to the ground sent the other man into a scared frenzy. "Where are you?! Come out here you coward!"

"Nice shot. Now him." Ellie watched you in awe as you loaded up another arrow, the first arrow hitting the hunter in the stomach and the second in the throat. "How's that?" You said quietly in case there were more enemies around. "Good. Really good actually." Her words made your cheeks flush. You were always a fan of words of affirmation and encouragement. "Looks like the coast is clear. Let's get back to the others."

             After everyone got back from their routes, you all decided to blow off some steam at the bar you were at just the night before. The charming place was lit up by fairy lights and candles to create ambient romantic lighting. It looked so beautiful. "Everyone, we finally have a competent person joining our patrols! Jesse, please don't sleep with her. Please. I beg." Ellie said to the tall dark-haired man with her hands held together like she was praying. "You know I can't make promises that I might not keep," Jesse said slyly before extending his hand for you to shake. You shook his hand politely and introduced yourself to everyone else.

An hour later you were slowly sipping at your whisky and started people watching. The last twenty-four hours had worn you out and it was nice to see so many people living...normally—or at least what would be considered normal now. Ellie was dancing with Dina, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous at the sight of her cheeks getting flushed from having Dina's arms around her neck.

"Another drink?" Jesse chimed in, snapping you out of your jealous thoughts. "Trying to get me drunk?" You smirked at him before taking the drink from his hand.

"You caught me. That was my intention all along." He joked as he took a seat next to you at the bar. "So...wanna gossip? I know some pretty juicy stuff about almost everyone here." The offer did sound pretty tempting...

"Sure, I'll bite. What's going on with those two?" You gestured over towards Ellie and Dina. Jesse let out a prolonged sigh at the sight of the two of them. "Those two...a little bit of a will they won't they thing they have going on. I mean, I guess Ellie could use a win since she broke up with her last girlfriend." Girlfriend. That's promising at least.

"Do you know what happened between them?"

"No. Ellie is a closed book most of the time. You only know what she wants you to know." You nodded at his words and took another sip of your drink. The alcohol creates a warm pool in your stomach. "Dina on the other hand, we are kinda in an on-again-off-again relationship..."

"And right now you're...off?"

"Yeah..." Jesse looked at the floor to keep his eyes off the two of them. It was hard, he was friends with Ellie and his ex-girlfriend had an obvious crush on her.

"I feel like we're going to need another round of these." You say after taking one last sip from the clean glass and handing it to him. Jesse chuckled and went back to the bar to get more booze. If you were going to do what you had planned to do tonight, you needed more liquid courage to get over these nerves. It had been a long time since you had any affection and it seemed like Jesse would be able to give it to you. At least for the night.

So you went back to his place.

AHHHH omg there i finally posted something y’all. please let me know what you think!

dividers by cafekitsune <333

© vxnillavampir 2024 - don’t copy, steal, translate, repost, or plug any of my works into an ai.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part One]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2576

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: The first couple chapters are a bit slow going but we'll meet Lori and Elvis soon I promise. Looking to post every other week with this one :) Enjoy

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

Ever since he was a little boy Austin Butler had loved the sun. There was just something about it; the way it shined basking everything it covered in a golden hue or how everyone seemed a little happier whenever it was out. He supposed it was because it made him feel like he was at home in California, a place he had been missing quite a bit recently, the clunky fit of her new job and his run down flat making him yearn for palm trees and ocean breeze. He’d even take his old partner at this rate, a curmudgeonly old man knocking on the door of retirement and not one to care about a young detective trying to find his feet in a new precinct. Though if there was one thing he desperately missed about home it was the fact that the Californian heat couldn’t wreak half as much havoc on a dead body like the balmy air of Memphis did.

After working in homicide for so long he’d figured he’d gotten used to all the smells that a ripe cadaver could hold but in this tiny apartment with no air conditioner and the contending June temperatures he was proved wrong. He held his breath as he ducked under the police tape cursing himself for having eaten not so long ago as his turkey sandwich did cartwheels inside him. Then again he supposed it could be worse he could be the guy splayed out on the floor in front of him lying in a pool of his own blood, his eyes still staring out glassy and cold.  Austin sighed.

Even though his entire job was murder it somehow never got any easier. The number of dead bodies he’d seen didn’t take that sickly feeling away whenever he was confronted by his latest victim. Though admittedly he wondered if that was less to do with a life being snuffed out too soon or the fact he knew that at some point he’d have to take this news to their friends and family and rip their world apart. It was a grief he’d known himself, one that never got easier no matter how much time or distance you shoved between yourself and it.

Given that the coroner had yet to arrive it meant that the crime scene was technically still closed and so he was careful to keep his distance when he bent down beside the body, wrinkling his nose at the fresh waft of decomposition. The guy was young, no more than early twenties if he’d had to guess, and attractive too in a boyish sort of way. Though they were lifeless now he could tell his pale blue eyes were striking and had no doubt once complimented the guy’s skin tone even if it was now waxy and pallid. In fact the only detracting feature was the bullet wound to his temple which he had no doubt looked better on this side than the one that had landed face down, spewing blood onto the beige carpet and turning it a deep shade of brown. 

‘There’s gunpowder on his face,’ his partner, Detective John Melling, said as he appeared from nowhere, his errand to find the manager of the place apparently done with.

‘Yeah I know, a close shot,’ Austin said, pulling up from where he was crouched and trying to ignore the way his slacks stuck to the back of his knees as if glued there by sweat, ‘which means that bullet is probably somewhere in that bookshelf.’

‘Good luck with that one,’ John snorted. Austin rolled his eyes. He liked John. He was a good detective, smart and good with families, but he, like most of the other detectives in Shelby County, had yet to make his mind up about the newcomer from California. And so he treated him as the rest did, with caution, until he proved his worth which in this instance meant finding a bullet amongst a backdrop of wood and wall. 

As John moved away to rifle through the man’s mail Austin moved around the room, stopping first at the bookshelves. He could see the path it had taken, ripping a novel in half as it hurried to its final destination only that looked to be out of reach and so he made a note to circle back to it. After that he moseyed on looking for his first impression, one that was building bit by bit until he spotted an older bald man standing by the uniformed officer at the police tape.

‘Can I help you?’ Austin asked the man who had been staring at the body as if in a trance. Austin moved to block his view, feeling a sudden urge to protect his victim as if he was now exposed as if he hadn’t already been ogling the guy himself. 

‘Uh, no, I er,’ the man mumbled. John barely looked up from the stack of envelopes as he said, ‘he’s the one who called it in. Landlord.’

‘Oh,’ Austin said, moving towards the man so that they were just separated by the doorframe and police tape. Again the landlord’s eyes flitted back to the body, his colour paling as he suppressed a dry heave. Austin cleared his throat, diverting his attention as he asked, ‘you see anything uh?’

‘Geoff, Geoff Halton,’ the landlord said, ‘and uh no. Like I told your friend I was just coming to collect the rent.’

‘When’s that due?’ Austin asked.

‘First of the month,’ Geoff replied. Austin raised an eyebrow.

‘And you waited,’ he paused, checking his watch for the date, ‘what five days to come and ask for it? That doesn’t sound like any landlord I’ve ever had.’

‘Well he’s never normally late so I gave him a few extra days,’ Geoff said as he pulled a crinkled-up handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks so that he could dab his sweaty brow, the perspiration nothing to do with the outside temperature. Austin knew he was being unfair that the likelihood of this weathered middle aged man having anything to do with this was low but he had always found putting the first responder under pressure to be a good technique. In their desperation to prove their innocence they offered up more evidence which looking around the bare bones of this guy’s apartment couldn’t be a bad thing.

‘Five’s a lot of days,’ Austin countered.

‘Like I said he’s never been any trouble and I’d rather have one good tenant a day or two behind once in a while than a nightmare one on time. But when he still didn’t swing by my office I thought something might be up,’ Geoff replied.

‘So when he didn’t pay up you came around?’ Austin asked, receiving a nod in return.

‘I knocked but there was no answer,’ Geoff replied.

‘Did you let yourself in?’ Austin asked, his eyes surveying the wood of the door for any scuffs or marks. If he had done it was likely that any prints on the door handle would be useless. 

‘I have the master key,’ Geoff said, adding in protest when he saw Austin deflate, ‘but I only ever use it for emergencies! And when I came in I could smell, well, that. I saw him lying there and I knew there ain’t no use checkin’ he was still alive so I called you guys.’

‘Do you know his name?’ Austin asked, suddenly realising he’d been poking around in this man’s life without even knowing his most basic detail.

‘Tony,’ Geoff replied.

‘Tony what?’ Austin pressed.

‘Bowen,’ John replied, holding up an envelope as Austin looked his way before turning his attention back to the landlord.

‘Did he live here alone?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ Geoff replied.

‘Any relatives?’ Austin pressed, the mugginess of the room making this feel harder than he’d anticipated it to be.

‘I’d have to check his file to see who he listed,’ Geoff said, ‘we’re not exactly close.’

‘Obviously the man’s been laying in your building dead as a doornail for five days,’ Austin countered, his sniping coming out before he had a chance to stop it. Geoff seemed bolstered by his tartness, straightening up from the nervous pathetic puddle he’d been and growing irritated as he said hotly, ‘what I meant was I don’t know much about him. He keeps to himself; he keeps his nose clean and that’s as much as I need to know.’

‘Not too clean evidently,’ John countered, finally moving away from the stack of unopened post. Austin could feel him looking around, surveying the scene, and feeling as though they’d probably pressed about as much out of Geoff that was useful he decided to cut him loose in favour of asking his partner his opinions.

‘Go with officer Bryant here and find those papers. We’re gonna need a next of kin to notify,’ Austin said, not waiting for a response before he turned his back on the man. John raised an eyebrow but waited until the pair of them were left alone with just Tony for company who admittedly didn’t make much of an effort to join in.

‘You were a little sharp with him don’t you think?’ John asked, perching on the edge of a sofa arm.

‘It gets them to the point,’ Austin said dismissively, ‘and considering he wasn’t much help that’s a good thing.’

‘Yeah? Let me guess the room’s telling you more than the eye witness is,’ John said, his scepticism poking through. That was another thing he was still getting used to, the reliance people of the south had on human nature. Over the dozen or so cases they’d worked together he’d been astounded to realise just how much word and character spoke when clear cut facts were staring people in the face. In fact ‘they’re good folks’ was a narrative he was sure he’d never get on board with. Still he didn’t bother to argue the point but rather present the facts themselves showing how even without speaking the room had said more than the landlord had.

‘Maybe. He’s a single guy right?’ Austin asked.

‘Looks like,’ John said, glancing around, ‘he could have a girl though.’ 

‘One that doesn’t get in contact or check up on him for more than five days?’ Austin asked, raising an eyebrow. As John shrugged and nodded in agreement he continued, ‘from the looks of this apartment I’d say he’s a single guy living alone and his landlord doesn’t know his next of kin which means he either doesn’t have one or they’re infrequently in touch or at the very least they don’t come here to see him.’

‘Right,’ John replied.

‘So why are there two glasses of half-drunken scotch on the coffee table?’ Austin asked, watching as John noted the two whiskey glasses in front of him.

‘So there was someone here,’ John replied.

‘But his mail is unopened and the pizza box on the counter is full, an uneaten pizza just sitting there,’ Austin continued making John’s eyes drift past him to the De Roma’s pizza box sitting on the kitchen worktop, the bottom of the cardboard darkened by the grease that had been soaking into it as the pizza lay uneaten.

‘So what?’ John asked.

‘I think he came home with the pizza and mail in hand but he was distracted by someone coming over. It mustn’t have been planned otherwise they’d just eat the pizza together. If it happened after he’d been home for a while the pizza would be gone and his mail opened,’ Austin said.

‘He opens the door for the guy who’s gonna put a bullet in his skull and asks him if he wants a night cap?’ John said sceptically.

‘Maybe the person came to talk and Tony felt like he had to,’ Austin replied.

‘But if it was about something worth killing the guy for I can’t imagine it was a polite chat. And apart from the dead guy the apartment looks in pretty good condition to me,’ John said, glancing around the room. He was right apart from the unsightly corpse in the centre of the room; the rest of it was relatively tidy. Granted it wasn’t very large with the room split into a living and kitchen area but there was no clutter, apart from the bookshelf there wasn’t much personality to any of it. It actually resembled Austin’s current apartment, devoid of personality though his was due to lack of time to make it his own given the fact he was new in town and always working. Though at this point that felt slightly better. He may have not had a chance to put a fresh lick of paint on his walls but he also hadn’t had a chance to make enemies like Tony apparently had. Austin was thinking about that, wondering what had made the guy sit down with the person who would end his life. 

Had he known what was coming or why they were there? Or had he been blindsided by it all? 

‘Is that his file?’ John asked, snapping his partner out of his trance as the landlord reappeared at the door along with their officer. Apparently Austin’s attitude had left no love lost as he nodded but didn’t say anything, offering the small manilla folder over the tape as if signalling both his compliance and reluctance at the same time. Austin rolled his eyes but watched as John took the folder from him before he quickly scurried out of view.

‘What have we got?’ Austin asked as John threw the folder down on the tiled counter with a splat before he started to sift through it. If he was being honest with himself he wanted to read through it himself but knew it was probably better to give him the lead here. John’s eyes flitted across the pages. From what Austin could see there were a few info pages, copies of receipts and rent stubs but nothing much else.

‘Says here Grandma’s next of kin but it looks like she lives in Florida,’ John murmured as he read through the sheet, ‘lease agreement was signed over a year ago and he works at, oh.’

‘What is it?’ Austin asked craning his neck to try and spy what he had spotted. Though as his partner looked up, a beaten expression falling across his face he started to worry.

‘He works at Kings,’ John said with a sigh.

‘So?’ Austin said. He’d heard of the place. A little club on Beale Street, a home of good music and the hotshots of Memphis though he had yet to scope out the joint for himself. What he had heard though did not warrant the reaction John was giving, one that signalled their job had just gotten a little harder. Then again as a native Memphian maybe there was something Austin didn’t know yet. After all there wasn’t a club or bar on his patch when he worked the beat he didn’t know inside out. He knew which places were known for trouble and those he could rely on for a tip here or there. And from the look John was giving him he was sure Kings wasn’t one of those he could hit up for some friendly police cooperation.

‘So if he works there then chances are this is something to do with them,’ John said.

‘Who?’ Austin asked.

‘The Memphis Mafia.’ 

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[munsonsduchess]

Rock N' Roll Dreams Come True

summary: you've been joining corroded coffin on tour and at a big show eddie can't keep his hands off you w/c: 2.767 warnings: 18+ only minors dni, swearing, oral (f receiving), use of afab language to describe the reader (pussy, cunt), p in v sex a/n: i love rockstar eddie with my whole soul and my whole 🐱so this one getting the most votes on the poll seemed like a no brainer, again i did take a lot of this from something I'd written before for a different fandom but i've edited it and changed some stuff

if you like this please consider reblogging it and leaving a comment, it always helps me out

(moodboard by me)

It had been a dream come true when the Band got picked up originally. They’d played small shows here and there at first, bigger bars than the hideout, a couple local music festivals nothing mind blowing. That came later when Corroded Coffin had been asked to be the warm up act for the warm up act for a very famous band. 

Now here you all were, it had been ten years of climbing the ladder but Corroded Coffin could sell out an area almost as quickly as Metallica or Iron Maiden or any other band you’d care to mention. 

Everyone at home who had cheered them on, who’d believed in the band, they were the original fans. They might not be screaming their songs back to them in a sweaty crowd of metal heads or getting riled up in a mosh pit but there was no way Gareth, Jeff or Eddie could forget those friends who’s faith had never wavered. 

Dave the new guy maybe didn’t understand at first when a guy in glasses and pink Ralph Lauren polo showed up backstage with a girl who wouldn’t stop running her mouth in the most beat up pair of red chucks. Or why a certain hard nose reporter was only too happy to do fluff pieces on the band's meteoric rise to fame. He understood the California Stoners a little more but it still kind of baffled him when everyone begged one guy to take their pictures. 

This was Eddie’s family. Your family. The band and the Hawkins group. You were all older now, maybe not wiser but you would always share something deep, spring break 86 had truly bonded  you all for life. Most of Eddie’s early song writing for the band after Spring Break is what got the band picked up in the first place. 

So there you were. Sitting on a busted amp backstage watching the boys argue before going on stage. Eddie had apparently broken some sort of rule about being 'cool' and 'metal' to the point where the other three guys just couldn't let it go. Gareth had even decided  to document the 'crime' with his polaroid and now everyone was playing keep away while the photo developed and threatening to give it to the next reporter they spoke to, 

“You’re ruining my image!” Eddie protested, "come on dude don't be a dick" 

“You’re ruining your own image! You’re drinking out of a juice box! What are you six?” Gareth shot back, holding the picture above his head and signaling for Jeff to take it

“I need the vitamin c!” Eddie shot back, "it's not my fault  you all want to get scurvy" 

You couldn't help but laugh as Jeff took the picture and handed it off to a random crew member telling them to guard it with their life while Dave and Gareth wrestled with Eddie. This was the Corroded Coffin people didn't get to see, just four guys who loved each other and loved music, not the on stage personas, not what the media loved to make them out to be and  you were so fortunate you got to experience it all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sound of the crowd cheering and chanting the band name sent chills up your spine and looking up at the others you could tell the band felt it too,

“Knock them dead babe” you smiled reaching up to grab Eddie by the lapels of his worn leather jacket to bring him down for a searing kiss, 

“Always do” he laughed before shrugging out of the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. A little pre-show ritual he swore brought the band luck and with how the tour had been going so far, no one could fault him.

You watched as the band took the stage and the crowd went wild. Your chest swelled with excitement as Eddie started playing, a wink thrown to you waiting there for him before his attention turned to the rest of the band and all that nervous energy transformed into an unbelievable stage presence.

You’d read every article that came out about the boys and  saved every article you’d found, clipped from magazines and pasted into a scrapbook you were keeping so that in years to come when you were all old and looking back on the glory days of your youth, the boys could look back at their beginnings. Along with Gareth's collection of Polaroids, embarrassing or not. 

The articles that made you laugh were usually the ones written about Eddie and his stage presence. The way he acted when he was playing had these journalists convinced he was some sort of tantric sex god, they drew their conclusions from the energy he put out while on stage and how touchy he was with you after. The band thought it was hilarious honestly and put it down to lead guitarist syndrome, everyone assumed because Eddie played lead he was just this amazing lover who could never be sated and while it was partially true it wasn’t everything the assorted press made your relationship out to be.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Eddie’s hair shone under the stage lights, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as he played his heart out to a stadium packed full of screaming fans. They were here to hear him play, just to hear their band. No one else. It had been a long time coming, from playing the hideout every Tuesday to a band of drunks who yelled and threw empty beer bottles at the chicken wire surrounding the 'stage' and demanded old country songs to being hare, now and playing a sold out stadium of die hard Corroded Coffin fans. 

His eyes flicked back to where you were standing, your arms inside his oversized jacket as you sang along to every song and danced along to the music. You knew every word to every song they played, you’d been there when most of it was written and Eddie swore up and down you were the band’s good luck charm. If you hadn’t been there at the club there’s no way the band would have ended up where they are now. 

Turning his attention back to the crowd, Eddie poured his heart and soul into their last few songs knowing that everyone else would do just the same pouring every ounce of their being into the music. That's what it was all about in the end, the lights, the crowds, the fame, it was all secondary to the music itself.

As the band finally finished their set before the encore they came back off stage to change quickly and rehydrate. Eddie had other ideas apparently and rushed at you, sweeping you into his arms ignoring your cries of protest about how sweaty he was and demands that he at least wipe down first,

“Need you now baby” he groaned in your ear, pressing himself against you so you could feel just how hard he was. The energy from the crowd had been unlike anything else they’d experienced all tour and Eddie needed you.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were giggling as Eddie stole kisses as he dragged you towards the band's dressing room, the rest of the boys staying behind with warnings that Eddie better not miss the encore and threats of serious bodily harm if he did. His kisses were heated the closer you both got to the dressing room, your protests about his sweat slicked body dying in your throat before you had a chance to voice them. Instead they surfaced as little moans as Eddie’s hands roamed all over your body, he pushed you through the dressing room door and kicked it shut behind him.

Eyes dark as they took in your form, your home made corroded coffin shirt you wore to every show since the first one you'd ever been to,  but above all you were still wearing his jacket and Eddie would freely admit what seeing you in his clothes did to him,

“Baby do you have any idea how hot it is knowing my girl is on tour with me?” he grinned, his hands reaching out to pull you in close by your hips, “knowing everyone is looking at you but they can’t touch”

His teeth nipped at your neck as he sucked a bruise at the base of your throat, his hands trailing down your body to push your skirt up around your hips. You moaned openly as his hands kneaded your backside, Eddie knew exactly where to touch you to make you melt into him. 

You pulled at the hem of the tank top Eddie was wearing and managed to pull it off with his help. As soon as the tank top was off Eddie’s hands were pushing you back towards the couch, 

“Gonna fuck you so good baby, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to” he growled into your ear. 

You let out a yelp of surprise when the back of your knees hit the arm of the couch, reaching out for something to grab onto so you wouldn’t fall but only grabbing air as you toppled backwards. Eddie smirked and licked his lips at the sight of your legs propped up by the arm of the couch while the rest of your body lay flat on the couch. 

Crouching down so he was at eye level with your throbbing pussy, Eddie pushed your legs apart and settled himself between your opened thighs. You could feel the heat of his breath against your panties, the sensation only made you wetter as you waited for whatever Eddie had in store for you.

It wasn’t much of a wait as Eddie’s large hands trailed up your thighs, over your panties, his fingers ghosting over the waistband. Placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs Eddie moved his fingers along the seam of your panties chuckling to himself when he started rubbing his thumb against clit and hearing the moan you let out in response,

“That’s my good girl, be as loud as you want baby. Want everyone to hear you” he crooned fingers rubbing your soaked panties against your needy cunt,

“Please Eddie, need you, please” you begged, you wanted more than this teasing sensation. Needed him to stretch you out with those thick fingers, needed him. 

Eddie laughed at how needy you were for him. Who was he to deny his girl anything she wanted? His good girl..

“Since you asked so nicely” the sound of fabric ripping filled your ears before Eddie’s mouth was attached to your dripping pussy, licking up the slick from your folds and moaning at the taste of you. Always so sweet for him, he could stay here for hours and had done so on more than one occasion.

You keened loudly at the feel of him, his tongue working wickedly between your legs as he sucked on your clit like it was his favourite milkshake, “taste so good honey” he purred as he slipped a long finger into you.

“Please Eddie, need more” you gasped, “please, please” 

“Greedy little girl, you want more than this? Tell me what you want” 

“Need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me” 

Eddie almost gave in then and there. His cock was straining against the denim of his jeans, it was painfully hard but he was a man on a mission and he would not be deterred. Instead he added another finger using them to stretch you open as his mouth went back to work on your clit. 

The room smelt of sex and sweat, the sounds of your moans and Eddie’s fingers in your wet pussy filling the air to the point that you were sure the crowd could hear it from the main stage. It was music to Eddie’s ears and he wasn’t going to stop until you made the sweetest sound of all for him.

Adding another finger he worked them in tandem with his mouth as he found the spot inside that had you seeing stars and gripping his hair tightly in your hands begging him not to stop. You could feel the coil tightening in your tummy, you were so close and Eddie could feel it too with how your walls were fluttering around him, 

“That’s it baby, cum for me” he encouraged, his fingers moving quicker and quicker until you felt the pressure inside you boil over and you came with a loud moan of his name soaking both Eddie’s fingers and his chin. 

He didn’t stop until he was sure you had come back down from your high and you were panting on the couch trying to catch the breath he’d stolen from your lungs. 

Standing up Eddie quickly unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down around his ankles. He looked down at you, your face flushed and chest heaving. God you looked so pretty like this, all wrecked after an orgasm. Almost as pretty as when he fucked you into your shared hotel room bed every night. 

That was for later, for now Eddie needed you and he wasn’t going to wait. He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, gripping your hips tightly as he did so. God you were so tight, so warm, he had to be careful not to blow his load there and then. 

A string of curses left his lips until he bottomed out. The stretch was almost unbearable every time Eddie filled you but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his thick cock dragging through your pussy walls. 

The way Eddie fucked you like each time was the first and the last and he’d never get to feel this again, dragging his cock out of you until just the tip was left inside before slamming his hips back against yours. Again and again, angling his hips so that the tip of his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you. 

You were clawing at the couch, his arms, anything you could reach. Moaning loudly at each deep stroke inside, you were sure you could feel Eddie in your stomach and it felt incredible. 

You could feel yourself getting close again as your pussy clenched down around Eddie’s cock. Knowing you both weren’t going to last much longer he reached between your sweaty bodies and rubbed quick energetic circles on your clit encouraging you to come apart around him. 

It didn’t take long for your high to wash over you again and you were screaming Eddie’s name for everyone to hear as your vision whited out, Eddie continued to fuck you through your high his own not far behind as he released into you with a grunt.

You stayed like that for a moment as you caught your breath. Splayed out on the couch with Eddie’s weight on top of you, his head resting on your stomach. Finally he looked up at you with a boyish grin on his face,

“Fuck honey you were amazing” he praised, a small kiss placed against your belly button as he pulled out and you groaned at the empty feeling left behind. 

Eddie disappeared from your line of sight for a moment before coming back with a warm wet towel to clean you off with. He placed another chaste kiss against the inside of your thighs before helping you stand and fix your clothes and hair. Not that the other members of the band or really anyone backstage wouldn’t know what the two of you had just been up to. 

Reaching up you captured his lips with your own and smiled into the kiss. Maybe the magazines were on to something after all. The moment was broken when Jeff began knocking hard on the door of the dressing room,

"You have two seconds to get out here or I swear to god I'll kill you myself!" 

Eddie pulled the door open wide and grinned at Jeff's irate expression as if he hadn't just been fucking your brains out on the couch,

"Relax, I told you I wouldn't miss the encore!" Eddie gave you a quick parting kiss before following after Jeff to finish the set for good.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Days later Eddie came back to the hotel you were currently crashing in with a ‘surprise’ for you. Peeling off his jacket he was able to show off a brand new tattoo, a heart with both of your names written inside. Eddie showed it proudly on stage that night proclaiming to all the world his love for one girl. 

His sweetheart.

Taglist: @pillow-titties @eddiemunsonwillbethedeathofme @munsonology @thegirlblogstuff @boomhauer @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @manda-panda-monium @insertcoolnameherethanks @aftermidnightwriting

Let me know if you want to be added!

His sweetheart.

[olderthannetfic]

ONTF, you're older than I am, you're highly media literate, maybe you'll know: what was the appeal of the Joss Whedon style of writing to begin with? Everyone whateverishly wording their phrasey bits in that very Whedon-y way never did anything for me, positive or negative, and the constant need to have comedy during serious moments or interrupt a serious moment with either snark or a remark that nods towards tropes diffuses the tension to the point where I can't get invested. None of his characters ever felt capable of having sincere moments like most characters in other things I watch, and the few moments of that they did have would get undermined by one of the aforementioned flaws.

I do think the "omg worst writer EVER!" crowd is a bit much, because I've seen things so bad that Whedon looks like Shakespeare by comparison. But my half-sister, who is 25 years older than me and thus in her late 40's, swears Joss' style is revolutionary and deep. And frankly I've been wrong about a lot of media I used to hate and I'm open to the idea I'm missing something. It's super likely given my limited media exposure, though I am admittedly trying to work on that and branch out into more genres of media and more formats so I don't become that 'guy who has only seen Boss Baby thinks every movie has Boss Baby vibes' meme.

So. What am I missing? What's the context I'm missing and the key here that will allow me to appreciate the appeal of and enduring fandom for Whedon's work? I am admittedly a fandom baby but I am willing to learn.

--

I mean... I despised him from the get go, other than the Buffy movie, which I still quote that death scene from regularly, so I'm probably not the best person to describe what's appealing about his style.

But one-liners during action are a common taste even if I'm fonder of the sorts of homoerotic 80s trash Ruthless Reviews used to cover.

Ironic distance is also popular and easier to swallow than earnestness for a lot of people.

However, I do think Buffy's original audience was connecting with it emotionally. Look at the part where Buffy's all upset after the most clownishly 1980s take on loss of virginity and heavyhanded metaphors for guys being jerks that just made every writer involved seem excessively middle-aged and out of touch Giles asks if she has any idea what could have happened to Angel. For people who weren't going to high school in 90s California, that bilge was apparently very moving. Certainly, there are parts of Buffy where the quips die down for some actual emotional moments.

People like style. Something that commits to being aggressively stylized will often stand out from the bland clones that surround it. Look at Wes Anderson (another creator I don't particularly like). Whedon's godawful faux-witty dialogue did sound different from other things on TV at the time. He also lets women say some of the one-liners, which is sorely missing from most media.

But mostly, he was formative for a lot of people, and I had to live through many, many years of them earnestly entreating me to give his shitty writing another chance because this time I would somehow connect with this sex-negative parasite and his casting aesthetic that I didn't find hot or interesting.

(I like dumb and campy things. I just like them to star a bunch of body builders from New Zealand, not waifs.)

People always hold up the things they imprinted on as more revolutionary and deep than they seem in retrospect. In Whedon's case, his already obnoxious style suffers from having been copied so much since, but even if he weren't famous or popular, if you were talking to that one person whose adolescence was defined by their love of him, they'd say all this same nonsense your sister does.

[skylermadness]

Casting Changes (Lucas Lee to Stephen Stills TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: January 15, 2024)

Apologies for disappearing, I was too lazy to fill up my queue. Woops.

Original Description:

My half of a trade with moltingscales of FurAffinity. Their half can be viewed here. My first TF of the New Year and it's probably something absolutely no one expected! Character to character TF isn't the most common thing in my repertoire, but I also couldn't resist the chance at this when the trade was being conceived! So much so that when writing I went past my set barrier of 2.9k words and wrote out almost 4k words instead. Woops! But that just meant I really enjoyed the idea and wanted to give it justice! Plus well...Stephen is really really hot. Although we did play with some headcanons in regards to his body type, but what's a TF without some creative liberties. So in general this was a very fun trade to work on, and I also heavily suggest checking out what moltingscales made for me! He also went all-out for his half and it was absolutely gorgeous~

   Lucas Lee was not someone to return to a movie set after leaving it, and his blatant carefree attitude made that quite tangible. Hiring him these days had always been a coin-flip on whether or not he would even appear on set. After all; he was already famous, he was already rich, and he was renowned as the best in varying ways.

   Emphasis on was.

   Maybe he still had the fame, or the renown, but his career had evidently tanked fast after the incident with the paparazzi just a few days earlier. Apparently the threats of California kicking him out ended up becoming true, the man having quickly landing himself on the Hollywood Blacklist. So this left him in Toronto, cut off from his riches and effectively jobless… or at least he would be.

   For once in his life Lucas had returned to a movie set after leaving, but it was clear nothing was the same as it was a few days ago. While he wasn't necessarily let go from the production of Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life he still had dropped off the set long enough for someone else to snipe the leading role of Scott Pilgrim from him. The director seemed to take some level of pity on the disgraced actor, however… okay well, not necessarily. Apparently they still didn't have someone to occupy one of the roles in the film and at this point in the production they were desperate for anyone to fill it.

   That's how Lucas landed a dinghy trailer, and in his hand was his new script that had highlights for his new role. That role being… the one of Stephen Stills.

   “Still don't know who that even is…” Lucas grumbled as he eyed the pages. 

   The lack of knowledge on the guy wasn't helped either due to the fact that the role felt so small. Having such a minor role also felt so foreign to a hot shot actor such as him. After all, he was always the starring role in the films he was in. Always the center of attention and always the person the action or romance followed. That was just how it's been since the start of his career! But now… now he's been given this. Sidelined with minimal scenes and very few things going for his character. He may as well have been given a background character at this point. 

   These thoughts alone are enough to cause Lucas to seethe in anger, yet he continues to eye the script. Although the actor would still be left confused as to what exactly he's been given. “How the hell am I meant to do any of this?” 

   Lucas tried but everytime he envisions a scene in his head or reads out a line in his mind all he sees is the pure tameness of the role. It was something he just was not accustomed to as an action star. Just standing around and talking? And all while Scott (the role he originally was meant to play) got the major battles and conflicts. It may have been counterintuitive but despite being an actor he doesn't feel like he could act in a role like this. Doing something that felt like it all amounted to nothing!

   His train of thought then paused for a second. Nothing. Is that what he was now? Downgraded to roles nobody will care about…? 

   “Pfft, no, I…” he stopped staring at the script for a moment, a fake smile on his face. He still had a chance to regain who he was! This was just a setback, his life wasn't over…! Those attempts at comfort made his smile lower though, Lucas not believing any of them. “Whatever,” he tries to shrug it all off. 

   The negative self-conscious feeling remains, lingering and slowly but surely starting to gnaw at Lucas’ confidence. And as his gaze returned to the words of the script that feeling would only continue to strengthen…

   Each word of each line lingers in the mind of the actor and as it does he can't help but dwell on the fact that he just felt like he wasn't given much with this role. There was no standing out to be done, nothing major for the name Lucas Lee to be put onto. His talents just felt incompatible with the role that was Stephen Stills.

   …or perhaps he just wasn't talented enough…

   The thought was foreign at first. One that was abnormal considering how he is. But maybe the prospect of the broken pedestal was just getting to him, a prospect that made the statement echo off his skull to the point he couldn't help but dwell on it. By this point everything was making him start to feel a little anxious. And born from that anxiety Lucas starts to do something he has never found himself doing before. Slowly his hand lifted up to his face, hand growing closer to his opening mouth until the end of his fingers could rest on his lips. His teeth then find purchase on a fingernail and he… bites down on it.

   He doesn't stop either. He was just idly biting his nails now, an action that had in mere moments felt instinctual to him now. As if this was just his go-to way to take out his anxious emotions. It doesn't even seem to click for him that he started to do this either. It just seemed like it was just integrated into his muscle memory.

   That isn't the only thing he wasn't noticing either. While he bit his nails it seemed that some level of wearing was etching into them. What was usually perfectly trimmed and cared for was rapidly deteriorating in appearance, a level of jaggedness being embedded into the keratin. Even stranger was the fact that this wasn't happening to just one hand. The nails on both hands were getting damaged, shown by their tips whitening from it while their roundness got increasingly uneven amongst them all. Almost like years of nail biting was being accumulated in seconds.

   His nails also didn't seem to be alone in the wave of physical changes as the remainder of his hands were seemingly getting altered to some degree alongside them. This was particularly more tangible at their front as the usually soft and pristine appearance of his palms steadily got rougher. A level of hardening creeped into the skin, especially on his fingers, as layers of skin were thickening. Repeated instances of friction just getting placed into his hands in the form of calluses.

   The back of his hands weren't left unscathed either. Lucas' bodily hair had not been the most visible, especially around his arms, but that was quickly changing as darker hairs started to sprout out the back of his limbs. It was small at first with a few stray hairs poking out the skin, but a level of coarseness quickly arose as more and more fuzz made itself known. Even weirder was the coloration seemingly being different from the actor’s usual by being brown instead of black.

   Furthermore the short sleeves of Lucas’ t-shirt made their increasing hairiness tangible as well. It was fairly concurrent with the changes in his hands with coarse brown fuzz making its way up his arm. The once smooth feel of his skin was quickly being replaced by an appearance that could only be described as rugged. And that wasn't the only change happening to his arms either as they were in the process of undergoing a much more drastic change, that being in his very musculature.

   There was a level of loss in Lucas’ muscle mass that was becoming quickly apparent. The pure thickness of his forearms shrinking away little by little with the overall diameter losing centimeters. The same could be said for his upper arms as well as the pure definition of his biceps and triceps were getting lost, atrophying steadily under the effects of this mysterious transformation. Oddly enough though it would seem he wasn't being made skinny. Where his muscles were leaving it would seem a new layer of tissue was growing in tangible to at least attempt to make up in bulk, and that was fat. Quite a bit of it actually with fat quickly growing in prominence within his limbs, wrapping around them and replacing the hard thickness of raw muscle with the bulky softness of chub. Although judging by the lack of tightness in his shirtsleeves it was clear that the thickness his fat was providing didn't make up fully for the muscles he had lost.

   Lucas had been oblivious of his changes, at least at first. There was a point after the first minute where he stopped biting his nails, wiping the hand off his shirt to deal with any saliva (and seemingly leaving a currently unnoticeably patch of blue discoloration on the all black fabric). He would then proceed to give his chin a scratch as he continued to analyze the script, unaware that the act was making his chin stubble seemingly get a little more sparse.

   “Urgh-” he grunted out of partial annoyance, and partial discomfort in his stomach. “N-no matter how I look at this I just can't get into the feel of Stephen! Maybe I'm just not cut out for this…”

   That anxious feeling within him had only grown more and more prevalent. That he just wasn't going to be good enough for this, that he wouldn't be able to pull through in what was expected of him. Lucas’ usually carefree attitude was seemingly fading as all he could think about was the inevitable possibility of failure. He was an action star, not a side character! Although in truth he didn't really feel like either of those…

   The discomfort in his stomach flared up again causing Lucas to lose grip on the script and drop everything. “Agh, damn-” he muttered, starting to hold an arm around his stomach as he could feel it churn and bloat. And the longer he did so the more he started to realize something about his belly felt off. Was it… softer?

   That was the moment he looked down at his body. That was the moment he noticed everything.

   “Wh-what the!?” he exclaimed, raising up his arm in front of him. The muscles were still in the process of shrinking by this time, and fat was gaining prominence, all while both his arms were noticeably getting hairier. “What's going on!? What's happening to my muscles, my-” his panicked statement was cut short by another groan, his stomach still churning. All he could do was take his focus off his arm and direct it onto his stomach.

   His growing stomach. His rounder stomach. “O-oh God…”

   This transformation was evidently a concurrent endeavor that was affecting his entire body in rapid succession. While some parts could lag behind in the end everything was happening at the same time. So even while Lucas hadn't been looking, his torso had been in the process of shifting this entire time, and it had all started at his muscles.

   The epithet of Best Chest on the Business wasn't a lie seeing as Lucas Lee indeed possessed a massive shelf that was his pectoral muscles. That wasn't the case now though as due to the usually tightness of his shirt it was noticeable his chest was shrinking. The usually massive size of his pectorals dwindled in size, and it wasn't long until the indent his cleavage left in the fabric. Just years of working out and enhancing his form being lost. And in its stead, as it did with his arms, fat began to accumulate in order to make up for the loss in size. As his muscle mass dwindled his amount of chest fat increased at the same time, the newly formulating softness pushing forward steadily. The amount of fat he'd get wouldn't be enough to create a sizable shelf equal to that he used to possess but it was still enough to give his form some amount of thickness.

   The real show of changes happened in Lucas’ abdominal region however. His usually thick set of abs had already been quick to shrink away, partially the cause for the churning that was in his gut. And the other cause was the fat that was bubbling up from the region, manifesting within him and amassing a feeling of bloat as his body was initially not acclimated to this. Then his belly proceeded to bulge forward with fat continuing to make it swell out more and more. The hem of his shirt steadily rose over his growing belly, moving up and up to unveil his chunky gut. And by now Lucas had started watching and witnessing his gut push outwards, his belly button becoming visible at this point as a sign of just how much weight he gained. It wouldn't take much longer for his shirt’s hem to just slip upwards and his belly to begin slightly hanging over the top of his pants. 

   Lucas placed a shaky hand onto his belly as he exclaimed, “What the fuck is happening to me!?”

   The change in weight wasn't even the end either. Beneath his hand he could feel a few hairs sprout from his skin, a triangle of fuzz rising from the bottom of his belly with its tip touching his belly button. Furthermore, a trail of hair ran up from his belly button and lined his midline before reaching his chest. Brown hairs emerged from his now much more shallow cleavage before spreading across the man’s chest. What was once void of any type of body hair quickly became covered with almost a forest of it, which had only continued to dispel his body’s smoothness. At this point a low pressure began coursing across his body (his bones?) as well, and Lucas noticed that the floor seemed to be getting at least a little bit closer. A loss in height, evidently.

   “O-oh jeez,” was the first thing he could muster, his voice seemingly sounding a little less deep and a whole lot less conveying of any form of confidence. “Why is this happening? What's going on?? Why is my body like- like this!?”

   His brain was just in full panic mode. Any semblance of calmness was thrown out the window as he just stared at his body, just comprehending the difference of it all. And the fact he was transforming at all was enough to make that panic become stronger. All of it has made his prior acting woes get pushed away, but truthfully this just felt so much worse! Especially because he didn't even know who or what he was becoming.

   Then came some feeling of dwindling self-confidence, followed by the man starting to try and push his gut back into his abdomen. “Come on, come on, just get back in there!”

   He tried to disregard how different his voice was sounding, or the weird level of familiarity of it. He just wanted to be Lucas Lee again, the famous actor!

   All while he was panicking the next phases of changes had been underway. His earlier loss in height especially, primarily because of how his legs were decompressing into a shorter length. In general his legs had undergone a process of changes that were quite similar to that of his arms. His pants getting increasingly baggy as his thigh muscles diminished, hamstrings and quadriceps losing prominence as yet again the years of work put into them faded away. The same could be said for his gluteus muscles, although his rear didn't shrink too much as the increase in fat made up for the loss in size quite well in that region. A similar event even happened at the crus of his legs as his calve muscles atrophied and fat billowed out the back of his lower legs to remedy it. All while his legs got increasingly hairy, so much brown fuzz accumulating around them that it was evident that these limbs belong to someone who didn't really shave their legs.

   At the same time as his legs changed his feet had been doing so as well. With his body now shorter it had resulted in a lot of his appendages to shrink down a bit to fit his new proportions, feet included. This resulted in his shoes not being too affected by everything as he feet underwent their transformation, shifting to be a bit thicker and softer with fat while perhaps becoming just a bit wider. Hairs were in the process of poking out the top of his foot while his soles gained very minor degrees of thickness and callusing (and extremely minor in comparison to the calluses on his hand).

   It wouldn't take very long for Lucas to give up on his crusade to push his fat back into his body as the man was now deciding to embarrassingly try and pull his shirt (which by now was getting increasingly bluer) down over his belly. “How is anyone going to believe I'm Lucas now??” he stated, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he fully realized just how different he was becoming. He was going to look nothing like the action star he was, instead looking like some background nobody!

   That statement could very well be the truth as well. Especially because his face wasn't that of Lucas’, no. All during the course of his bodily transformation his face had been slowly but surely shifting into the visage of a different man…

   It started with the scratching of his stubble earlier, that very act stimulating the follicles in a way that altered them drastically. It started with a brown coloration washing over the once black hairs, similar to that of his new body hair. At the same time however there came a shift in how his stubble had appeared. What once was a rugged and almost symmetrical appearance quickly shifted with bits of fuzz retracting and the overall well-groomedness dissipating. A patchiness was quickly manifesting within his beard as a result making it uneven. And while it was still relatively short it still had a level of disheveledness and scruff to it that didn't exist prior.

   All the while more and more changes overtook the man’s facial features. While his more rectangular skull structure remained there was a level of roundness that made its way into his facial shape, his jawline seemingly coming off as less chiseled as some submental fat descended from beneath his chin. Following that came more fat and more of his features filling, softening his once well-sculpted appearance. And while it wasn't on his face, it seemed that the stylized 2 tattoo that was on his neck had rapidly faded into his skin as well.

   It would only become increasingly clear that none of this would come to an end. The straightness of his nasal bridge inwardly curved and the overall size of his nose shrunk a bit, nostrils flaring as it all reshaped into a smaller size with an almost turned-up tip. The regions under his eyes darkened, slight wrinkles forming as he was given some noticeable bagging beneath each eye. And above his eyes the same wave of brown overtook his brows while the finely trimmed appearance of them was done away with. Hairs noticeably sticking out at the top make their appearance looking less pristine and more fuzzy. It resulted in a level of more overt thickness entering his eyebrows that was accentuated further by their almost disheveledly furry appearance.

   To truly solidify the differences in Lucas’ form came was changes in his hair. The same brown creeping up from his patchy beard and etching into his sideburns before running over the remainder of his usually spiky style. That spiked style didn't even last long as each follicle got browned, instead many of them growing a little bit longer and sticking out more. As his hair got longer, volume becoming thicker, the style of it became increasingly less neat and more sloppy. Clumps sticking out in any which way by going left, right, and behind his head. At the back of his head his hair noticeably grew to the nape of his neck before sticking slightly upwards and fraying. A fair amount of his hair even hung over his forehead, seemingly short yet still very messy in appearance. The only way to describe his new style was being practically adjacent to one’s hair when they get out of bed in the morning. Disorganized with ends sticking out all over.

   This all cycles back to the present with Lucas’ form having become, well, not Lucas. Even his mind didn't seem to be running off his usual mindset as the thought of being gone from the public eye made him unhand his shirt’s hem and grab the sides of his head in panic. Grinding his teeth together he just couldn't stop dwelling over every single thing that went wrong in the past few minutes- hours- days! Demotions and failures and inabilities and- and everything- Every part of his body lost the ability to shake all of this off with a simple whatever and let it be! It just didn't feel like he was him anymore and all these thoughts became overwhelming! And inevitably once everything becomes overwhelming, something has to give…

   In this case it was the mental aspect of Lucas that was Lucas. The anxiety was rapidly overriding all sense of self within the man, his own identity being overhauled at a rapid pace. Stray thoughts and memories overran his mind as the very prospect of action star was seemingly thrown out of a mental window. The word fame did stick inside his brain, but the word was seemingly shifted drastically. And while he could just barely grasp onto having been someone else for a few seconds with just the thought of ‘he was still a good actor, right?’ it still wasn't enough to register such a notion in a serious manner. After all, everything in his mind was spiraling into making him think he was just part of a garage band.

   Soon it all flowed into his personality. Even though his personality had been integrating a very anxious and panicky persona within his mind there was so much more to shift. Nigh self-absorbness being replaced with low self-confidence, intense desire for bodybuilding fading away to nothing, and any level of disregard for anything instead becoming a regard for too many things. There were even undefined aspects of his sense of self that had gotten shifted with one of the more prominent ones being his own sexuality. Something about it was being solidified (or perhaps unearthed?) as his changing mentality developed a taste in men. So in the end his perception of reality, his entire bank of memories, his entire life. All of it was being reconstructed under a new name and that name was…

   Stephen Stills.

   And all during the man's panicked breakdown there were two final surges of changes.

   The first of the two came with his clothing. Although the aforementioned shade of blue had spread itself across the fabric it was only now that the true result of that would come to life. It would start with a pair of breast pockets manifesting in the upper torso area of the shirt, one on each side of the front. This was followed up by a split running itself down the shirt’s middle, already fastened buttons seemingly manifesting from that split. As the split lengthened up and down the shirt the hem would drop down and cover his belly, the newly divided panels of the shirt seemingly not tucking themselves in. Furthermore the neck of the shirt extended upwards, making its way up the lower end of his neck before folding downwards and becoming a collar instead. The once short sleeves of the shirt also proceeded to lengthen, quickly running down his arms until they could reach his wrists before promptly rolling themselves into cuffs that were a little ways below his elbows. The last change that came to his shirt was an inverted wave-like seam that etched across the uppermost quarter of each end of the split, a shift that gave his shirt what could only be described as cowboy vibes.

   The rest of his clothing underwent a much less interesting change. The black hue of his pants was lightened to gray as they shrunk a little to fit his slightly smaller size. Meanwhile his shoes shifted to refit his feet as well with the white and black coloration being deepened to a plain brown tone.

   The second surge of changes though, that came in the form of the very reality around him being shifted. The small trailer that was on the set of a movie was warped with everything within it being reshaped. Objects disappear or reshape while the van-like internals expand and ground as it becomes more like an actual room. The set that was outside was also seemingly being morphed as well to fit this new development. It wasn't long until he would find himself in his garage that was surrounded by the neighborhood he resided in. And considering he was just coming to…

   “AHHHH, what's going on!?” he shrieks in panic before opening his eyes and finding… his garage. “Whuh, huh? I thought…”

   He paused. Wait, what was he thinking? He can't really remember. All he knows is he felt a severe level of anxiety that he couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind. He circled around in place for a moment to find a source, but all he found was his garage with the Sex Bob-Omb band equipment originally behind him. 

   “Maybe I was just stressed about band practice…?” he tried to reason. But something about that statement felt off. Wrong…

   …

   “Ugh, this is too confusing to wrap my head around fully.”

   With a sigh Stephen walks over towards the couch located at the back of the garage and takes a seat. It would be nice to just clear his head and calm down before the others arrive for practice…

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers West Coast #65: "Whatsoever a man soweth..."

December, 1990

The REAPER and the ROBOT Part One He's back from the GRAVE -- and ready to PARTY! ... FEAR the REAPER!

Uuuuugh. Can we not do something different?

Grim Reaper suuuuuucks! He's one-note! Even the title of this arc seems to suggest we're back to his old nonsense. The Reaper and the Robot.

Oh, is Grim Reaper going to have a problem with Vision? How fresh and original!

Although, Vision is with the East Coast Avengers. Maybe Grim Reaper is going to harass Jim Hammond Human Torch instead. That'll be new.

Anyway, a quick recap of Grim Reaper's last appearance. He teamed up with Ultron to put Wonder Man and Vision in a giant blender. Superhero shenanigans ensued and Vision and Wonder Man wound up pursuing Grim Reaper into a dark cavern. And then he stumbled off a cliff when Wonder Man ruined his perfect little brother fantasy by claiming credit for doing an embezzlement.

Uh, so, Wonder Man Simon William's original origin is that he was a competitor to Tony Stark but his company got into trouble and Simon did some embezzlement and got arrested. The Masters of Evil bailed him out and turned him into Wonder Man and then he died. Then Grim Reaper came to avenge Simon by attacking the Avengers instead of the Masters of Evil and also revealed that he, Grim Reaper Eric Williams, did the embezzlement instead and framed his goody-good brother.

And then it was later later revealed that the first thing was correct and Simon did the embezzling and just let Eric take the blame because he was ashamed.

Anyway,

Simon visits his brother's grave at the graveyard.

Where he recaps their entire relationship and says how weird it is that he has an easier time talking to him now that he's dead.

Hey, it be like that sometimes.

Simon apologizes that the two brothers drifted apart and says that all the murder attempts probably meant they cared for each other more than most brothers.

Sure!

Anyway, as soon as Simon leaves the graveyard, Eric pops out of the ground as the living dead.

Oh, sure, don't stay dead. God forbid I be happy.

Nekra reveals herself to be the one that brought him back to life. You know, that lady he was smooching on back when he was alive?

Apparently, she and Black Talon brought Reaper back as a zombie later in the Vision and the Scarlet Witch vol 2 book. And Nekra and Reaper smooched again shortly before he re-died. This made her realize she loved him so she studied voodoo herself so she could bring him back.

Reaper doesn't want to be a zombie again and have to take orders but Nekra tells him he doesn't have to obey anyone! Although, he does need to absorb a human life through his scythe once a day to keep living. She recommends he start with the ornery groundskeeper who has started yelling at them for being in the cemetery after hours.

Instead, Grim Reaper backstabs Nekra and eats her life.

Grim Reaper: "Like you said, Nekra -- this time -- I don't have to do what anybody tells me. Anybody!"

What a dick.

Grim Reaper: "You were right -- about my needing to absorb life -- to hang onto my own approximation of it. Still, in sucking out your life -- I've become the walking personification of death! Now, far more than before, I've become -- THE GRIM REAPER!"

It's decades too late to try to be cool, guy.

Anyway, back at the Avengers West Coast Compound, Palos Verdes, Los Angeles, California, Hawkeye is back to training in that device that swings him around by his feet.

He's trying to get three bullseyes in a row but US Agent throws his shield to block the third one. Apparently, just to be a dick.

US Agent: "What's wrong, archer? Think you're the only one who can use a night workout? 'Course, I guess a guy like you needs all the practice he can get."

Hawkeye then punches US Agent in the face. Deserved.

But US Agent is still a super soldier even if his personality is garbage. So he judo flips Hawkeye into a bush when he tries for a second one.

Wanda and Quicksilver interrupt the fight to ask what the heck is going on. And then Wonder Man returns from the grave visit, telling Hawkeye and US Agent that if their enemies (like Master Pandemonium) had seen the Avengers fighting amongst themselves, it would make them so happy.

Geez, Wonder Man. You know that the Avengers always have drama. You were the one causing drama back during most of Englehart's run.

Anyway, he suggests that Hawkeye and US Agent shake hands and forget the whole fight.

Hawkeye: "How about we forget to shake hands, and let it go at that?" US Agent: "What he said."

Wow. So they can agree on things. If only they could broaden that 'fuck you, Wonder Man' attitude into a general sense of camaraderie.

Anyway, Wanda wanders to Wonder Man and asks if they can talk. Because they haven't really talked since her whole Evil and Crazy phase and boy do they have a lot to talk about.

Will they though? I mean, they try!

Scarlet Witch: "I merely wanted to -- well, to thank you for all your kindness while I've been recovering from -- everything that's happened to me lately." Wonder Man: "What are friends for? I see you're not wearing your costume, though -- either of them. Your hex power still hasn't kicked back in, huh?" Scarlet Witch: "No, and I can't be certain it ever will. In fact, with so many things I thought were -- permanent -- having been altered lately, perhaps it would be best if the Scarlet Witch phase of my life were over with, as well." Wonder Man: "Don't even think that, Wanda."

Yeah, editorial will never allow it.

Anyway, Wonder Man has had a hell of a day, thinking about his definitely dead brother and thinks this conversation will be easier over food.

And he looks truly miserable. Like, my god, this is a man in a dark place.

So Wanda suggests Taco Loco and drags him off.

Anyway, over in the plot, Grim Reaper wanders into an abandoned gun emplacement in the coastal hills of San Pedro. Currently being used by the Cult of Satanish, who I guess is like Satan... ish.

The cult gets in his face for interrupting their ritual and then he starts slaughtering. Because they're full of delicious life energy.

Is this your plan, Grim? Just killing random weirdos to live another day?

In his slaughter frenzy, Grim Reaper doesn't notice one of the cultists running away.

Back in the character beats, Wonder Man and Wanda have sat down at a restaurant and instead of talking about what they need to talk about, they're gossiping about Hank and Jan.

Apparently, Hank and Jan have officially explicitly decided to try to see if they can work as a couple again. Instead of them... I dunno, they were like dating in secret but it was super obvious and yet things kept happening that would interrupt them from ever speaking it aloud.

What was the point of playing coy with it?

Speaking of weirdly prolonged subplots, where the fuck is Tigra? I can't believe the Avengers lost an entire person, smh.

Some fans of Simon come right up to the restaurant table and ask him for his autograph. Specifically, the autograph of Simon Williams, semi-famous actor from Arkon 5, a cinematic masterpiece.

The fans don't even have any idea that he's a superhero. Which is weird. Since a huge part of his PR plays up the idea that he's an actor who is a superhero. To the extent that when he was really attacked for real by Last Roman Emperor Romulus Augustulus Wearing Abomination As a Meatsuit, everyone assumed that it was just a stunt and not a real violent assault.

My point is that it's odd that these young fans don't know Simon Williams is Avenger Wonder Man but they say they don't watch a lot of TV.

So, I guess it's possible. That they're just really big fans of his movies and don't pay a lot of attention to anything else.

Anyway, that one cultist that escaped Grim Reaper's murder spree stumbles into specifically the restaurant that Grim Reaper's superhero brother Wonder Man is in, cries out about a Grim Reaper killing people in a bunker, and then drops dead.

It's just vague enough that Wonder Man has to follow up on it! Annnnd, I guess he didn't bring his rocket belt? Because he asks two cops that were in the restaurant if he (and Wanda) could get a ride.

The cops are like 'yeah, okay.'

When the cop car arrives at the bunker, Wonder Man rushes ahead and finds a bunch of murdered people. And also, Grim Reaper jumps out like a slasher villain.

Wonder Man wonder slams a table into Grim Reaper and yells at him for killing a bunch of people.

Grim Reaper's response is funny because he's like well they weren't exactly saints but like I didn't really take that into account either. Just had to slurp some delicious life.

Wonder Man: "That means -- you're even more murderous than you used to be -- which makes stopping you my business!"

He's not wrong.

New zombie Grim Reaper will kill a minimum of 365 people a year if left alone. That's ridonk.

Grim Reaper is all jacked up on life energy so he's able to take Wonder Man punches like a boss. Getting punched hard enough that he cracks the concrete wall and shakes the whole place like an earthquake. And then bouncing right back to knock Wonder Man across the room.

The cops pull their guns and start blasting Grim Reaper. Blasting through him too. I guess being super jacked up on life energy doesn't change that his body is all squishy.

Grim Reaper knocks the cops aside and declares that even though he's eaten enough life for the day, he's going to kill Wonder Man just cause.

Wonder Man presses X to doubt because Grim Reaper is obsessed with him. All his dumb schemes were to either get revenge for him or turn Vision or Wonder Man back into the brother he used to know.

So Wonder Man just rolls the dice on letting Grim Reaper hit him with his scythe.

And he's sorta right. The scythe just FTHKs off his rock hard pecs. It's not clear whether it wasn't an earnest attempt to kill Wonder Man or whether the scythe just isn't up to cutting an ionic energy man.

But something weird happens. A weird sibling interaction.

The life energy flows out of Grim Reaper through the scythe and goes into Wonder Man. And neither of them like it.

It drains and weakens Grim Reaper. And the energy is so foul that it incapacitates Wonder Man with nausea and disgust.

Grim Reaper is so drained that he needs to eat another person to get through the night. Annnnnnnnd Wanda and the two cops just happen to be available...

Wanda tries to do a hex but gets nothing. Her powers are still gone after that Immortus thing.

But she's resourceful. So she kicks over a lantern, the only light source, and casts the bunker into darkness.

Grim Reaper can't see in the dark so decides to just fuck off.

Wonder Man: "Eric -- if you really are Eric -- wait! If something's wrong with you, maybe we can help!" Grim Reaper: "What I need, little brother, you clearly can't give -- and you sure won't stand by and let me take it for myself! I may be dead -- but I need life, like a living man needs food -- and no one is going to stop me from getting all I need! NO ONE!"

And then he fucks off.

Wonder Man laments that he was too disoriented by getting scythed to give chase.

Wonder Man: "I've got to find him -- or else every life he takes -- every drop of blood he spills -- will be on my hands!"

Mmm, that's good drama.

And now for subplots.

As mentioned earlier, Hank and Jan are off trying out being a couple. Including having a married couple argument.

So I can sigh once again about how Wasp is being portrayed since Byrne's run started.

Dr Pym: "Hank and Jan couldn't fly in a Rover, oh no. Or even just take a plane. They had to rent a car and drive, just like folks. Results: one flat tire, equidistant between closed service stations, in a car missing a jack."

I'm so glad that Jan organized the travel arrangements entirely so she could make all the wrong decisions. It has nothing to do with anything but she's just got to be wrong so Hank can be right =_=

Luckily, Hank and Jan got their flat in front of a farmhouse. Which Hank notes is odd because a lot of pesticide spraying has been doing in this area.

The old farmer couple that answers when Hank knocks says they don't have a jack. But also luckily, Hank completely ignored Jan when she asked him not to bring a Rover, his ant-brained aircar that loves him. So when she laments that she was wrong not to let him bring it, he can bring it out, secure in his rightness.

Also, when he uses his Pym Particles to expand Rover, the farming couple explodes.

THEY WERE ROBOTS ALL ALONG.

BECAUSE ULTRON-13 WAS BEHIND THIS!

WHATEVER THIS IS!

Like, seriously, what are you up to, Ultron? Why did you put fake farmer robots in the middle of nowhere? Just to ruin Hank and Jan's stupid couples trip?

I miss Mark the Ultron...

ANOTHER SUBPLOT.

Remember how Ann Raymond came to find the truth of what happened to her husband Toro and she just kept hanging around?

Well, in this back-up story "Toro, Toro, Toro...", Jim Hammond Human Torch and Mrs Raymond have put out an ad and ran it in papers around the world asking for information on what happened to Toro. They only received one response, an anonymous letter asking to meet them at the Channel Islands.

And when they get there, the letter writer turns out to be the Mad Thinker! And he brought a Giganto! A robot Giganto!

Mad Thinker: "And who more fitting, than he who not only caused Toro's death southwest of Lisianski Island -- but who also first resurrect you from suspended animation, years ago? I thought it past time I disposed of the surviving half of the Torch-Toro team!"

Human Torch do what Human Torch do and throws fireballs at the Giganto, melting its skin and revealing that it's a robot.

But in the meantime, the Mad Thinker has fucked off.

Hammond and Mrs Raymond decide to go investigate Lisianski Island, which Mad Thinker really emphasized it. So they miss Mad Think coming out of the water and ripping off his face to reveal...

NAMOR MCKENZIE!

Who disguised himself as the Mad Thinker to help the two of them get closure and couldn't just tell them because he's busy faking his death at the moment.

As one does.

I'll just be happy if we get this subplot wrapped up.

Anyway, back to the Larry Hama Avengers run next week. And the week after that, Ultron stuff.

Follow @essential-avengers. Like, reblog, and comment. Or don't. I can't make you. Until I get the Mind Stone.

[its-moopoint]

I don't know how shippers met their SO and developed long term relationships in spite of separate careers and locations. When two people love each other and want to be together they do everything they can to make the relationship work. They may have met between October 2013 and March 2014 and it was through common friends as C said later, because by March they were already dating, spending Christmas and New Year together with family and friends. Like every early relationship, especially for someone in the public eye, there is no talk about it because people wait to see how the whole thing develops. In CT's case, it worked because they spent their time off together. Then they got engaged in 2017, married in 2019 and had a child in 2021. And let's remember that many actors married to actors usually don't make it, precisely because they are apart filming in various places around the world for months on end. CT lived close enough and had the option to be together when one wasn't able to travel. Having a civilian as spouse is a plus in this case. This is how organic relationships work, but these nitwits are so devoid of any common sense and constant drooling over S, the only conclusion they came to was that CT's relationship was impossible due to her spending the bulk of her time on set with their wet dream.

c2bend

The ‘Civilian’ Boyfriend

So, I’ve only been shipping SC ‘with’ you all since August sometime.  And I don’t have the timelines of Caitriona’s schedule as dialed in as some of you.  But one thing that keeps nagging me about her having a ‘civilian’ boyfriend that SHE apparently didn’t have before Outlander began and only happened after she started filming OL, is this:

So she gets cast late August, early September 2013.  Is in Scotland by mid September, is working, which includes learning script, meetings, horseback riding lessons, other lessons?, costume fittings, annndd then filming.  She is in every scene, filming 12 + hours a day with weekends off, which more than likely a good part of that is spent learning lines and sleeping/resting I would imagine, with occasional munro bagging with some guy she met on OL, “magical evening walks” with some guy she met on OL (according to him), visits from across the globe friends – Donal, etc.  This is more than likely her schedule for SEVERAL months.  I believe I read somewhere that they were filming for 9 or 10 months originally, even if it were 6 months, then some time off, then promoting, then back to filming for 3 more months – that’s pretty much more than one year of her life devoted to OL.  During her time off she was in California (not the UK), going to Big Sur, hiking the LA Canyons with her sister and some guy she met while filming OL, hanging with her cat and friends, etc., just being HOME.  Then her and her costar are doing some heavy promoting during the summer, then back to filming in August (I believe?).

Okay, stay with me – Now we’re into the fall/end of year of 2014.  They wrap in October.  She’s in LA (@home) for Thanksgiving with her good friends – Simon, Karolina and others (have you seen the Thanksgiving photos on IG – she’s either exhausted, a bit drunk or not entirely happy or all three).  In December according to accounts she does a whirlwind trip to NY, Paris, Ireland (I do believe that’s all very doable btw).  Then in January 2015 her and her costar from OL are at People’s Choice Awards – in LA .  Also at this time she knows her ‘flat’ is on the market so she realizes she’s going to have to move, so does she stay in LA even though she’s rarely there anymore or uproot and move to Glasgow where she WORKS many months out of the year for OL?  Well, yeah.  

Now we’re moving into spring of 2015, she’s filming Money Monster for 3+ months I believe, has been doing photoshoots all over the place, quoted in some rag tag as having a civilian bf.  This is where I go WTF?  How in God’s name does she have a BF, let alone a ‘civilian’ BF with the crazy ass schedule she has had now for the last 2 years, where in the hell would she have found TIME to find and nurture a relationship with someone who has nothing to do with the industry?  Unless of course she has a twin, oohh that could explain SOO much… I’m going with that, yep, yep, I like that theory.

c2bend

Rebloging as this has always been my biggest receipt. I wrote this fall of 2015 I believe. And not much has changed as far as this goes - how would she even have time for a civilian BF especially with the amount of time she spends offset with her costar?

mariaae

Love this post @c2bend! Totes agree! Only one man in her life since OL - her co-star Sam! Swoon!

gabysachs

Reblog for the timeline we all have been following since we became shippers. Of course there's an only civilian man in Cait's life, her calm center, Mr. Sam Heughan 😏

s-and-c-forever

Well obviously she does not have a civilian boyfriend and in fact is no doubt married to that person she spent more time with.

marciabalfe

You have to be very damaged by neurons to accept the narrative that states that, in the middle of this whole whirlwind, she inserted the most lifeless, dull, serotonin-free guy in this world in her life as a boyfriend, fiancé and husband. They could at least have chosen someone with a little more vivacity to play this role of a false husband! It’s playing too much with our intelligence!

lovehimloveherstuff

The TRUTH will always prevail... it cannot be hidden or hindered! As you said so (adorably) in your original post here, "Cait & some guy she met from outlander have been munro bagging" since day ONE! Her "Civilian bf" never existed, and neither does her "Ghost husband" now. Their is now & has always been only ONE Man to fit Caitriona Mary Balfe's Bill & that man is Sam Roland Heughan. The Father of her children & the LOVE OF HER LIFE!!! And the two shall never part!!

selanalash

This, people, is the base, the core of the irrefutable logic that IMO led to believe in SC relationship.

bjj3007-ichoosetobelieve

THIS! I’m glad to see that I wasn’t the only one that was beyond baffled by this. Not to mention she states in 2014 (@auburncurlslass pls help me out on this) that she is single. (Again, timelines will be clarified I’m sure ) then claims that she had been with her husband since 2014 🤔 then claims that she has Outlander to thank for love coming into her life. How the hell does a civilian fit that category?

No but really everyone, pls clear up this timeline for me hahaha. So that I can remember it once and for all!

Love the critical thinking of this original blogger btw!

I love all their references to neurons and being smart when they plead their "case" in these long ass posts that say... nothing. I mean any lawyer and judge would throw this shit away at any hearing in seconds. They have nothing to sustain their beliefs but tons of ASSUMPTIONS.

The timeline it's pretty clear for anyone with understanding, a normal life, normal relationship and with no hearing or sight problems.

She had friends in America and they knew T in Glasgow. She was alone in Glasgow and her friends came visit her and introduced someone who actually lived there (T). So she had her work friends (SH) and her new circle she was building. He started appearing in her outings, first only as friends then they got officially together. You can actually watch the whole thing unfold in social media and in her interviews: from the moment she said she was single, then dating someone, then doesn't talk about her private life, then T being her +1 at events, then her thanking him in her acceptance speeches, then her friends, family and acquaintances naming T as her husband, the wedding, the marriage certificate, she speaking of her husband and son, she saying she wasn't with S, she saying her husband has known S since they started dating (that also fits the timeline perfectly)...

You need to be stupid to believe she only worked for a year and her social life was just SH.

[fayewongfuzao]

I transcribed most of the parts that mention Faye.

Who is Faye Wong?

Earlier in Faye Wong's career, people wanted her to be anything but herself.

Because she was from the Mainland, they tried to force her to have this Hong Kong personality because they were worried that Hong Kong audiences wouldn't accept someone who was from the Mainland.

Wong's handlers gave her an anglicized name: Shirley Wong

She didn't enjoy it. She felt forced into a fake version of herself.

But none of that apparently bothered Wong Kar-wai. Because he saw an edge that her handlers had been trying to sand away.

He was very much taken with Faye Wong who's an interesting figure because she was a Mainlander and she had a particular aura that he thought was interesting. She seemed cooler than the people in Hong Kong cause there's something kinda otherworldly about her. And in fact, she seemed cooler.

Cooler than even the Hong Kongese who think of themselves as the coolest.

Yeah, you look at her and you think 'oh that's the cool person'.

He [Wong Kar-wai] could see it and that's part of his gift.

Faye Wong with the fake persona she hated was figuring out what was next for her.

She disappeared for some time and she went to study in New York.

She roamed The Big Apple for a few months and said: 'I saw so many strange, confident looking people. They didn't care what other people thought of them.'

And then when she came back, she became a different person.

In 1993, she dropped the LP, "100,000 Whys" doing covers of songs from Western alt rockers like Tori Amos and throwing in some killer pop originals like this one called 'Flow Not Fly'.

The Hong Kong kids fell in love with her.

She was the huge rising star because it was so cool to be a fan of Faye Wong.

She was like the Nirvana of that moment.

When you mention Nirvana, I remember the way she dressed at the time. She was wearing all these grungy style clothes. And there was no internet at that time so I had no idea about Nirvana or the grunge music scene. And people were commenting 'How come Faye Wong dresses like this?'. They're not glamorous outfits that people would be expecting a Cantopop star to be wearing.

You know a lot of people obviously try to entertain and that's great. But with Faye Wong, you had to come to her. She just did her thing. She couldn't be put in a box.

In other words, Hong Kongers finally saw what Wong Kar-wai had seen years before: a Mainlander who out-cooled them all. Something totally modern which made her and her music the perfect fit for the director's next movie - a snapshot of modern Hong Kong in 1994.

Chungking Express

Story #2 featured a food server on hip Hong Kong Island played by Faye Wong, named Faye, and was like real life Faye in every way the music audience would probably recognize.

The movie-Faye dreams of leaving Hong Kong for the West. She's constantly blasting The Mamas and the Papas 'California Dreamin' like Faye Wong, movie-Faye does leave for the West. And like Faye Wong, movie-Faye also comes back changed.

Now she's an airline attendant and she's come to pay a visit to a guy she was obsessed with but never quite dated played by Tony Leung.

"WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO?" she asks him.

"WHEREVER YOU WANT TO TAKE ME." says Tony.

Will they stay in Hong Kong? Will they go? Instead of telling us, Wong Kar-wai smash cuts to the end credits, accompanied by Faye Wong's cover of a different song about dreaming.

Her version of The Cranberries tune is called 'Dream Lover'. It's as joyful as the original with Cantonese lyrics that add a hint of trepidation. They're about waiting to fall into a long kiss with an enticing stranger.

It could be movie-Faye singing to Tony.

'Dream Lover' came out a month before the movie debuted. The tune was already a smash. But now the tune was about to get bigger.

Chungking Express Goes Global

And the other thing international audiences took from the film? Faye Wong.

In that great sequence when she's at the snack bar and she's dancing to California Dreamin', the first time it ever played in North America at The Toronto Film Festival, after she finished dancing, the crowd applauded because it was such a magical sequence. And people came out thinking: 'Who is that woman?'

That's the other thing about Faye Wong. Hardened film critics came out thinking 'Who was that?'

For sure, Chungking Express was a great introduction of her to a much bigger international stage. She became quite popular in Japan thanks to the film. And so she did quite a few concerts in Japan and she did the themesong of Final Fantasy the video game. So she was that big.

Noel Hogan of The Cranberries

And as for 'Dreams', after Faye Wong's cover blew up in Hong Kong in 1994, Noel Hogan and his band had some inkling it was out there.

"We knew it happened and kinda forgot about it because we were so busy touring. But then bit by bit you'd kinda hear that 'Dreams' had taken off in this country and that country . But it really really didn't hit until we went to Hong Kong and later to China that we saw the full impact of it and how big it was."

"We were absolutely shocked."

Turns out Faye Wong had popularized 'Dreams' and the band who'd written it.

Emma Lee Moss (on her cover)

"It's just such a crowd-pleaser. People are like 'oh i know that song'. It takes them awhile to figure out what it is. Unless you're in Hong Kong, in which they know exactly what you're doing."

"Everywhere you go, there's someone who loves Faye Wong. I played in China and I couldn't communicate with anyone because my Mandarin was so terrible. But the moment we started talking about Faye Wong, we're talking in Faye Wong song titles. That's how we were communicating."

An Irish kid writes a song in his room. A Mainlander sings it to Hong Kong. Then a movie sends her music everywhere.

(SOURCE: MUBI PODCAST)

[griefabyss69]

gotta go with '07 nailbat for realsies'

Oooh this is an older one!!! From like the summer I think?

It's Stonathan, rated PG for now, and I'm posting the whole thing (it's not very long) because it was supposed to be for an event that I didn't have enough time to join! I'd like to finish it ~one day~ but it's also... a part of a bunch of WIPs that are going to be finished purely based on vibes mostly, like if I get the actual inspiration to finish it! It's not abandoned though because I do actually like the idea!!! I haven't gotten to the proper reason why I started writing it (something about Jonathan being the original maker of the nailbat and giving it to Steve when his life took a nosedive and Steve using it to protect them both and all of the symbolism etc), though it does start a little bit at the end Thanks for asking!!! <3 <3 <3

Honestly, living with Jonathan Byers should be like, fucking weird.

But it's not.

It's like, the guy wasn't necessary a thorn in his side but certainly was half of the center of some of the biggest hurt he's ever felt, but also, that was ages ago.

Years.

Steve hands him the joint, watching his lazy smile as their fingers brush. He's getting pretty high, the stuff that Argyle brings with him when he comes down from California is intense, but tonight he doesn't mind.

The thing is, he'd wanted to move in with Robin when she went off to university, but that didn't work out because she had gotten a girlfriend six months before she left and well. He wasn't about to third wheel or anything.

He wasn't gonna cockblock a couple of a lesbians after they'd spent their whole lives living in the heterosexual world of Hawkins.

So he and Robin had cried about it and then made different plans, something that would get Steve out from under his parent's thumb once and for all, but not leave him burdened with either the cost of living alone in a big new city or figuring out how to live with a complete stranger.

And here he is, smoking weed on his little balcony with Jonathan, who was attending the same school as Robin but apparently fucking hated living in the dorms.

He was of course worried about it all, about how fucking quickly he could tank this tentative friendship and blow up another home life, but so far it's been alright.

They even made it through their first fight about both of them being forgetful dickheads, and like, came to a solution and everything. Turns out you don't forget if it's your week for dishes or laundry if one guy does laundry and one guy does dishes. Groceries and garbage are less scheduled, but they're also easier to remember, and even if Steve forgets that Jonathan asked him to take out the garbage, he can do it in like two minutes tops.

They get along sober of course, had to have been through the whole getting an apartment and moving and driving around and going to school or work thing, but when they both have downtime in the evening and Jonathan's brain power isn't chained to any coursework, they smoke each other under the table.

Do they smoke too much weed?

Probably most definitely.

But it helps, with like everything they don't talk about. The shit that Jonathan tells him is because of trauma and the shit that the doctors tell him is because of brain injury. It's better than painkillers, and a world better than when he used alcohol to keep his head above water, so he's not worried for now.

Sometimes, though.

It's not enough.

--

There's a sound, he can't even remember what. A thud, or a crash, or a yell, maybe just a whisper, and he's up, on his feet, nailbat in hand before he even thinks to grab it.

He's silent, all of those years of sneaking past his parents and past other people's parents training him into memorizing the creaky places in the floor, how to open his door without disturbing the air too much.

The entrance to the kitchen is just out of reach, and he's ready to grab the archway there and pull himself in, swinging, when someone hisses out a curse.

"Shit."

It's Jonathan, his voice disembodied and in the dark.

Steve lurches forward before he gets scared, wanting to make sure he's not mistaken, and slaps his hand on the light switch, illuminating the kitchen.

Jonathan yells, flinching back into a fighting stance, eyes wide and round as he looks up where Steve is standing a few feet away.

"What're you doing?" Steve asks, squinting at the bright light. His eyes take too long to adjust these days.

"Uh, milk?" Jonathan asks, gesturing at the carton that lays on the floor, the milk spilled all over the tile. "Or, trying to?"

Steve sighs, forcing himself to put the bat down, leaning it against the wall.

"I'll get a towel."

--

They're at the kitchen table, Jonathan eating a bowl of cereal while Steve eats some cookies, even though it's like 4am, fuck it, because Steve's feeling restless and knows he won't sleep again tonight.

He assumes Jonathan is here for the same reason, since they've both cleaned up and he apologized for waking Steve even though like, he didn't have to be sorry.

It was kind of tense, Steve starting to feel less like he needed to square up with an invisible enemy but still on edge. He just watches Jonathan out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to fully look away because he wants to know he's safe.

[asherlockstudy]

A funny coincidence was that yesterday I rewatched the gmmore episode where Rhett explains what his tattoo means, because I didn’t remember it at all, and now today they were talking about doing more!

Aside from Link “Freud” Neal emerging when Rhett said he would get a little door as a tattoo, let’s say a few things about their tattoos.

Apparently Link is in the process of getting all his favourite beings tattooed on him. Lily, Lincoln, Jade and now he’s made an appointment for the next one, however he hasn’t decided what it is going to be yet! I suppose it’s probably not Lando yet, he already has Christy on his butt cheek, so could it be Jasper? Or even Rhett? Would he? I believe he would but I am confused by him having made an appointment without knowing what to get. Unless he wasn’t entirely sincere or it’s going to be something about him only.

But the main point of the post is Rhett’s tattoo. Rhett has gotten the Voyager 1 prob. This is a symbolism of his own life and identity. The Voyager 1 was launched in 1977, the year of Rhett’s birth. Voyager entered outer space in 2012, which Rhett clarified was the year he started leaving the religion.

That’s interesting because apparently the origins of Rhett’s deviation from religion are quite definite, meaning he has a clear picture of when exactly it started, and probably why. Incidentally, or not so incidentally, Good Mythical Morning started in January 2012. How coincidental is this really? Rhett and Link moved to California in 2011 and even though they made multiple projects in NC prior to that, apparently it was GMM and California as a migration that was freeing for their minds and feelings, because they were now far from the society and the family members who would object the most to their spiritual concerns. And then of course GMM required daily a lot of interaction between the two, unlike former projects for which they would meet like once a week. These two circumstances together intensified and accelerated their questioning of religion and everything that came with it for them…

The Voyager’s satellite is turned into a vinyl disc on Rhett’s tattoo, obviously signifying both the golden disc on which astronomers recorded information about the human species but also Rhett’s love for music. It was funny though that Rhett asked Link to describe the parts of a vinyl player as designed on the tattoo as “Link is the record guy” 👀

The satellite and vinyl record is also an atom with participles orbiting around it. Outside the disc more orbits and dots symbolise planets this time. I suppose those signify Rhett’s loved ones, some near him (atomic scale) and some far away (space scale). Then there is also a pulsar design down there which I don’t know if it has any symbolism or it’s just for the aesthetics.

Link was a little moody that day but in any case the two points in Rhett’s explanation that interested him the most was the time Voyager entered outer space and Rhett lost his faith (2012) and the vinyl record.

Back to the present, Rhett is thinking about a new tattoo, the skeleton of a blue whale. Link went full Freudian, wanting Rhett to get a little door tattoo on his… back. Rhett was jokingly down for it and thought of having the blue whale entering the little door, although then that would make the door gigantic… and you know technically nobody wants their back door to be gigantic. Link agreed to this, because apparently he would also prefer Rhett’s back door to be little rather than gigantic but he was only willing to compromise his idea by making the blue whale too large for the little door and thus being frustrated for not being able to enter… *freudian facepalm*

But this only makes me think of this potential conversation between them:

Rhett: Hey man, I am thinking of getting a new tattoo…

Link: Oh good, what’s it gonna be?

Rhett: I thought of it being about you….

Link: …Oh ��😉😉🥹😍👌🏻🔥🔥💗💓💓💗💘💘💘

Rhett: A blue whale skeleton!

Link: …. Uhhhh…. ehm… eh thanks

Rhett: You know, it’s because you have blue eyes and a big boner

Link: …Yes. Yes, Rhett, much appreciated.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (380): Sat 1st Apr 2023

This little attention-seeking sack of shit is Anthony. He’s 8 years old (and worryingly his hairline is already thinning) and what he wants more than anything is to go to WrestleMania one day. Today, April 1st 2023 in Los Angeles, California…Anthony gets his wish. WrestleMania: let’s fucking rock!

Early this morning Dad and I decided to shill out for another hotel that was closer to SoFi stadium because while the original plan was for him to kill time and wander around the local area while I went to Mania, there’s fuck all to do around SoFi Stadium. So now we’ve booked two nights at the Holiday Inn that’s apparently a fifteen minute bus ride from the stadium so now I can go to the wrestling while Dad chills in the hotel room. On the bus ride down from our original hotel to our new one a homeless guy got on who was shivering, covered in a bedsheet and carrying a half filled bottle of water like it was a baby. He walked right past the bus driver without paying and the driver in a moment of excellent comedic timing shouted down to him “You leave your pass in your other sheet?”. It must be fucking unbearable being a bus driver in this city. There are so many mental cases that eventually people who work on public transport must just let them in without saying anything or else the buses would never move. All those years that I was getting the bus from my house to the cafe why didn’t I just pretend to be a mentally ill tramp? The money I could have saved probably would have paid for this whole trip! After doing a dummy run to the stadium and back I set off for the real thing. I got the bus play but I had to get off   early and walk there because the bus was barely moving due to the traffic and of course having to stop at every fucking intersection. I could never live in America. The constant minute long waits at the  pedestrian crossings would drive me insane. I got to the stadium in good time and while I’ve been having nonstop anxiety dreams that something was going to go wrong that meant I wouldn’t be admitted the lady scanned my ticket and ushered me straight in. I climbed the stairs all the way to the top of the stadium and took in the scope of a venue filled to capacity with the WrestleMania sign and stage at the centre of it. At this moment the dream became a reality and I realized I had made it to WrestleMania. I wasn’t in my seat long before the show got underway. The whole thing went by very quickly and I didn’t get uncomfortable or anxious to get home at all. I was happy that Austin Theory beat John Cena, the showcase four way tag match was much more entertaining than it had any right to be (though I could have done without seeing Otis’ sweaty taint). The Seth Rollins / Logan Paul match was really entertaining. I love Seth to bits but I think his current gimmick is…..what IS his current gimmick. I know he dances and the crowd do his cool chant but it just feels shapeless. Rollins seems over on the surface but I think it’s the song that the crowd likes not him. There was a cool spot where Seth switched Paul’s mascot on top of him who Paul crashed on top of through the announce table. Dominik vs Rey was really good especially Dom arriving in handcuffs in a police car. Dominik Mysterio is one of the most over heels in the company which is surprising since before this prison storyline he was Blandy Bland. It just goes to show that it only needs to be that one little tweak that can turn you from a jobber to someone with star quality. Rhea Ripley vs Charlotte was awesome. I’m not a big Charlotte fan mainly because whether she wins or loses title matches is irrelevant because Vince/HHH is just going to hand her another one in a month or two so I was happy Rhea won. I left before the main event of Kevin / Sami vs Uso’s was over because I wanted to beat the traffic getting out but when I got back to the hotel I checked the results and saw that Kevin and Sami won the tag titles which made me very happy. I’m struggling to express just how much this meant to me. I’ve been a fan of wrestling since I was eight years old, it’s been an obsession of mine for nearly three decades now and has gotten me through some low points in my life. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea and that’s fine, we all have stuff that we think is lame but if you’ve followed wrestling for ages and witness a truly great great moment it makes sitting through all the lame / boring / disgusting aspects of this art form seem so worth it. Since watching my first ever WrestleMania which would have been X8 and seeing the way the wrestlers could command and manipulate a stadium full of fans I’ve wanted to be a part of it. I tried to convince Billy and Bannan to save up for the trip but I don’t think they ever really fancied it and a few years ago Halilaj and I started making plans to go but then both of us ran into money troubles which meant we couldn’t afford it and then in 2019 I came close to commuting to it but didn’t which turned out to be a blessing in disguise since Covid came along the next year and I would have lost out on a lot of money. This year however something inside me decided that I couldn’t wait any longer and WrestleMania 39 would be the one I would attend. It’s been an agonising wait since I booked it back in October but I couldn’t let another Mania escape my grasp. I’m so happy that I can finally cross this off my list and it will no longer be a hang up of mine, constantly at the back of my mind pestering me. I know I spend most of this blog complaining but it’s no exaggeration to say that today has been one of the greatest days of my life. And fuck me I completely forgot there’s another one tomorrow!

[safereturndoubtful]

Day 33 - to Ribadelago, Santabria National Park, Spain

Another day, another national park, but that wasn’t really the story of the day, which was much more humorous.

About 7 pm last night I was surprised when another van pulled in, next door to me. Surprised, because I have seen so few vans.

The guy actually came over to apologise for arriving late, though as I mentioned, it was only 7 pm.

They had a French registered Renault Globecar. A campervan maybe, but huge, more like a motorhome. The guy, I guess mid thirties, was originally English, but had lived 30 years in Brittany, and was with his French girl-friend. We got chatting, though it was not warm at that time.

He volunteered to tell me, that he was taking a year break from work in the adult entertainment industry. Now to my innocent mind, that pretty vague, adults are entertained in a number of ways. But he did soon after qualify this by saying it was porn, and apparently, very stressful.

They may return to the work, but remotely, whatever that means, the year after.

I don’t know much about this line of work, except for what I have watched on the tremendous, ‘The Deuce’. Though that was the heyday of New York porn, in the 1970s, where pretty much anything went.

We didn’t dwell on the porn. The two of them did look quite unlike the usual neighbour I come across on the road though, in smart tracksuits with expensive trainers. I misunderstood initially, thinking they were travelling in their van, owned by his parents, for the year. But actually this is a 3 week break, then back for a birthday, to California and various other places, with the odd three weeks in the van.

This morning we continued the conversation. They had no plans, but soon changed to join me hiking into the mountains. I moved down onto the far side of the village to park up, a very deserted village, and they followed. I set off, saying I would be slow, with the idea they would catch me up, but I didn’t see them again.

I think they saw the track, very wet and muddy after heavy overnight rain, saw my clothing, and opted out.

The rain had given way to an incredibly clear and cloudless morning, though a windy one. That sort of weather suits this National Park really, it is quite wild and windswept, beautiful in that regard, rather than being picturesque or pretty.

A quick quote from a book I am reading at the moment, the Swedish travel writer Erika Fatland’s High, about the Himalayas. I recommend her books highly.

She says.. “Borders are like sausages. It is sometimes best not to know how they are made. “

On this hike today, at times I was only metres from Spain. You can see their wind turbines on the photo below. There are many of them. I mentioned a few weeks ago that Spain, along with Germany, lead Europe in wind power.

But Portugal doesn’t, and at the moment won’t. The law is different, and many who voice opposition to them are listened to.

Though it does seem rather ridiculous here. They turbines are in Spain, but are only visible to the Portuguese villages. Borders…

It wasn’t a difficult hike by any means, PR3 as it’s called. It ascends without being steep on wide tracks to a dammed lake, Albufeira de Serra Serrada.

At the lake I met an older Dutch couple. I had actually seen their car arrive last night. We shared conversation on the return, and got on well, more in common I think than with the porn couple, though I quickly add, it is good to meet all sorts of travellers.

The guy was a retired neurologist, and his wife lectured in bio-chemistry when she worked, they were both now 68, and clearly pretty fit, and both quite small.

They were stopping off on their way to see their daughter and her family in Porto.

On return I drove onto across the nearby border to Spain, and into Sanabria National Park. Montesinho is, in effect, the foothills of the bigger mountains in Sanabria, which ascend to more than two thousand metres, and still have some snow on them in places.

This is a big tourist area, with plenty of hotels and restaurants, which I guess will all kick off just after Easter. At the moment, other than in the town of Puebla, everything is closed, and there are few people around. Initially I was going to stay in Puebla, but the weather is set fair, and I prefer to be back up high.

So I’m in Ribadelago, back at 1000 metres asl. I’m at the parking area for some hiking trails, surrounded by spectacular scenery. There is a sign saying no campervans etc in the National Park, but none of the camp sites are open. It’s so quiet that I doubt anyone will care. Park4Night lists a stopover place as being on the residential road 50 metres away. I’ve seen this before when parking areas have ‘no vans’ signs up. It’s taking advantage really, I never like to stopover near residential property. It’s rare to have ‘no van’ signs in Spain, usually there is some area they are directed to. In 3 or 4 weeks, I think it would be out of order to stay here.

I wandered back into the village for an early evening beer, and had a pleasant chat to the bar owner. I may well have been his only customer of the evening.

[burgundybmw]

Teenage Dream

Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Word Count: 8,643

Warnings: Smut (if you are under 18, or not a fan of it, don’t read in between the ***. this fic is mostly plot, so skipping it won't make things confusing moving forward), Drunk Fingering (I don’t condone this, but they’re the same level of intoxicated, and there is enthusiastic consent given the circumstances), Mentions of past bad sexual encounter (not SA, not Steve), Steve's shitty Dad (allusions to abusive parenting, very brief), This is mostly very fluffy!

Summary: Y/N Harrington, née Hopper, is trying to navigate her life as a newly married woman. Telling the people she loves how Steve and her got drunk and married in Vegas, figuring out what their next steps are gonna be, and moving the Byers to California. Steve and Y/N decide to follow them on the drive to help them move, and Y/N finds herself caught between falling for her husband, and guarding her heart from him.

Author’s Note: This is Part 2 of Waking Up in Vegas! I got so much love for that fic I decided to make this, and there will be a third and final part titled Dark Horse, so stay tuned for that!

Also, I originally wrote the smut scene in one shot, then Tumblr decided to pull some bullshit and deleted it. I spent over an hour trying to get it back with no success, so I had to rewrite it. I hope you guys like it, I’ve never written smut before, and now I've done it twice.

Y/N Hopper always had a vision of what her wedding day would look like. She imagined her dad walking her down the aisle, tears clearly visible in his eyes, but he would deny their existence. She would wear a beautiful white dress, lace, maybe some tulle. A full bouquet of flowers and a long veil covering her face. She imagined the ceremony out somewhere in nature, with flowers both natural and store bought surrounding them. Everyone she loves all gathered together, and the groom would wait for her at the other end of the aisle. Y/N didn't know if he'd be crying too, or if he would have a big giddy smile on his face, maybe a mixture of both. His eyes were always filled with love when she thought about it. They would say their hand written vows, a love letter to each other, before they would say I Do. There would be a kiss, and he would dip her with such flare like it was straight out of the movies. Well, at least the last one came true.

The night Y/N Hopper, now Y/N Harrington, got married she barely remembered it. A drunken fiasco in Las Vegas. Steve was her husband now, by law. Apparently, the state of Nevada doesn't accept severe intoxication as a valid reason to null the marriage. The newlyweds spent the Sunday after the wedding trying to figure out what their next move was. They both decided to wait until they got back to Hawkins to tell people what happened. From there they were sure the news would spread around town.

Steve insisted on replacing the class ring with two gold bands. He said that if they were legally married they should look married, and Y/N agreed. She asked him why he wanted to, considering they'd divorce as quickly as they could when they got home. Steve got quiet then, until he said that despite being near black out drunk when he did it, he made a vow to her. He would be loyal to her until the divorce went through, and he wanted other people to know that too. Y/N was speechless, she thought he wouldn't want to be tied down to her. Y/N told him he was free do whatever he wanted, that just because they were technically married that didn't mean she wanted to be his ball and chain. Steve looked offended when she said it, and he told her to never refer to herself as that again. They were friends, best friends, she would never be a ball and chain to him. They were partners in crime now, until they signed the papers that said they weren't. After they bought the gold bands she kept his class ring on a chain around her neck, she didn't know why, maybe for sentimental value.

The return to Hawkins was a nightmare. Steve called everyone and had them meet at his house, his parents were out of town and he had the space. That's when they broke the news about what happened. Dustin was the most upset, he said he wanted to be Steve's best man at his wedding, and was sad that he wasn't invited. It took 15 minutes for him to calm down, and Steve told him that he would be his best man the next time he had a ceremony. It was interesting, how he said it. Not a new marriage, or a new wife... a new ceremony. Y/N didn't know what he meant by that, but she didn't question it.

Robin couldn't stop herself from laughing, she was in tears, absolutely hysterical. She wanted to know all of the dirty details, and Steve told her he'd talk to her in private later. Y/N liked Robin, she was a cool girl, but she couldn't help feel a bit threatened by her. Steve and her got very close very quickly, and she felt like she was being replaced. She never told Steve any of this, and she never will.

Nancy had walked out of the room after Y/N and Steve had first said they were married, Jonathan following closely behind. Steve had watched her leave, and it nearly tore Y/N to shreds. She didn't doubt Nancy was happy with Jonathan, but there was a part of her that believed that Nancy might have regretted breaking up with Steve. That maybe he was the right person, but it wasn't the right time. He was her first love, and that kind of love stays with you. Y/N had a feeling, a rotten feeling deep down inside her, that as soon as the divorce papers were finalized Steve would realize that he should be with Nancy. That it would light a fire under his ass and he would try to win her back. She would still be friends with him if that happened, but it would gut her to see them together again. It took while for Jonathan to convince Nancy to come back, so they could finished explaining what happened. She didn't look upset, but Nancy was always good under pressure.

Eleven, Mike, Lucas, and Max were the most confused out of everyone. They gave Steve a bit of shit for it, but were overall quiet throughout the conversation. Joyce on the other hand had a lot to say.

Joyce told everyone to leave before she sat down and lectured the newlyweds. How much of a responsibility marriage is, how it's not something you can do on a whim. Y/N could tell she was disappointed in them, even if she tried not to show it. It was the type of concern only a mother would have for her kids, and she was a mother figure to Y/N ever since the demogorgon first appeared in Hawkins. When Hopper died, she checked in with Y/N daily. She told her that she could move to California with the rest of the Byers family, but Y/N turned it down. She couldn't leave the little cabin she lived in with her dad. Now with the money she won from Vegas, she could finally fix it up. It's what her dad would have wanted. In the end, Joyce told her and Steve she loved them both and would be there for them every step of the way, whatever they decided.

Murray had only one thing to say, and Y/N still didn't understand what he meant. He said "I was right before, and I don't doubt I will be right again." Murray had always been cryptic, so Y/N didn't waist energy trying to figure it out. Once they all left for the evening, Steve asked Y/N to stay. His parents would be home from his father's business trip in a couple days, and he still had no idea what he was going to say to them. Y/N could tell Steve was terrified of talking to his dad, so she stayed the night. They came up with a plan, and it completely went to shit.

The day the Harringtons came home Y/N and Steve were in the living room waiting for them. The other Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were puzzled as to why Y/N was there, Steve had told them to sit down, and that's when hell broke loose.

"I'll pay for it." Mr. Harrington had said, voice cold and unnerving. Steve hadn't even opened his mouth to tell them what happened when his dad interrupted.

"I'm sorry, pay for what?" Y/N asked.

"The abortion. I'll pay for it. That's what this is about right? My idiot son knocked you up? There's no shot in hell you're keeping it, so I'll pay for it to get taken care of." He said it with no emotion in his voice, like he was talking about doing his taxes. Steve tightened his grip around Y/N's hand, he had been holding it ever since they heard the keys jingle in the door.

"First of all, if Y/N was pregnant that would be her choice. Not yours. Ever. Second of all, she's not. That's not what this is about." Steve said with barely contained anger.

"Thank god, the thought of you as a father would make all the hair on my head turn gray." Mr. Harrington said in relief. Now it was Y/N's turn to get angry.

"Steve would be an excellent father. Now, a year from now, or 10 plus years from now. You should see how he is with the kids, he's amazing with them. He always makes sure they're safe and happy, and they all adore him. I am so proud to see how much Steve has grown over the past few years, and you should be too." Y/N said, her voice strong and unwavering. Steve looked at her like she hung the moon for him, and his mother saw it. Then she noticed the rings on their fingers.

"What did you two do?" Mrs. Harrington said in shock. She pointed the rings to her husband, and the man became as pale as a ghost.

"We're married. It wasn't planned, and we're still figuring it all out, what to do next, but we both thought you should know." Steve said calmly. The silence was thick around them, before Mr. Harrington stood up and walked to the kitchen. He poured himself a three fingers of bourbon and swallowed it all in one gulp.

"Y/N you should leave, I need to speak with my son alone." He sounded angry, a quiet angry, dangerous angry.

"Anything you can say to him you can say to me. We're in this together." Y/N stood up in front of Steve, who was still sitting on the couch. She had fought monsters from a different dimension for three years now, this man didn't scare her in the slightest.

"Go Y/N." Steve said quietly. She turned around, a protest at the ready on her lips, before she saw the look on his face. He had a thousand yard stare, looking into the distance like he knew what was about to happen, and he didn't want her to see it.

"But Steve-"

"Go. It's alright. I'll.. I'll talk to you later okay?" Steve interrupted. His eyes on her now, begging her to listen to him. Y/N didn't want to leave, she wanted to be there for him, but Steve was shaking his head at her. His pretty lips were sucked between his teeth, he looked scared. Y/N saw Steve walk into so many fights, ones where he thought he could win, and ones he knew he would lose, but every time he had a brave face. Not this time.

"Listen to him girl. Go. This is a family matter." said Mr. Harrington.

"I am family now. I married your son." Mr. Harrington looked vicious after she said it. "But if Steve wants me to leave, I'll respect his wishes." She got on her knees in front of Steve, she placed the hand where the shiny gold band rested on her finger on his knee, and looked up at him.

"Are you sure?" She asked, voice soft and patient. Steve nodded, and with a sigh Y/N got up to leave. She told him to call her if he needed anything and went to drive home.

A few hours later Y/N heard a knock on the cabin door, or what was left of it. There was plain plywood covering all of the holes, but you could still get in and out with little issue. She opened the door to find Steve standing there, his face was red and blotchy but he looked alright otherwise. Y/N let him in and gave him a hug, and the pained gasp he let out when she squeezed him tight made her heart break. Steve told her he didn't want to talk about it, but Y/N had an idea about what happened. They had banana splits for dinner.

Steve stayed inside the damaged cabin for a few days, and Y/N did everything within her power to take care of him. When he asked why she was doing so much for him, she said that's what wives do. They take care of their husbands. Steve went quiet, but when Y/N sat down on the couch after trying to turn the new TV she bought on, he wrapped an arm around her, and kissed the side of her temple. They didn't talk about it, Y/N didn't want to pry and Steve didn't mention it. Things got better after that.

Steve and Robin got hired at the Hawkins Family Video, Steve came home to Y/N with a giant smile on his face. Y/N had hired a contractor to fix the cabin, and she was assisting the process. They both decided it was cause to celebrate, so they went out to dinner to Enzo's. Steve talked about how excited he was to work with Robin again, and Y/N bit down the jealousy that rose in her throat. She was happy for Steve, truly and honestly, but she couldn't help it. Y/N told him she was considering taking up the newly hired Chief Powell's offer for being a secretary at the station. He told her that with all of the recent events Hawkins, they could use the extra help. Y/N knew it was because they pitied her, but she was gonna take it anyway. Steve was overjoyed, and that night they went back to the cabin and shared a bottle of Merlot he swiped from his Mom's wine fridge. They both ended up passing out in Y/N's twin sized bed, but neither of them complained.

It was a couple of months into Steve and Y/N's marriage, and the idea of hiring a divorce lawyer kept getting pushed back.

"We'll call them next week." Steve had said at the beginning of August. It was October now. Joyce had bought a new house in California, and they all helped the Byers, plus Eleven, pack up the house. Y/N had asked her sister if she wanted to stay with her in Hawkins, but Eleven had simply said that she was her sister, not her Mama, and that was the end of that.

Y/N was going to follow them on the road to California, and Steve didn't hesitate to come with her. It took a lot of groveling, but Keith gave him the time off. So now they were sitting in Steve's burgundy BMW, on the I-40 heading to Lenora Hills.

Steve was behind the wheel, fingers tapping mindlessly to a random Queen song that was playing on the radio. Y/N had her feet on the dash, the window was down so she could feel the cool desert night air on her face. It was day two of the drive, and they'd been on the road all day following behind the Byers moving truck. They were somewhere in New Mexico, maybe Arizona, Y/N had stopped paying attention to the road signs back in Oklahoma.

That was until she saw a sign that read 500 miles to Las Vegas.

"Should we take a detour?" Steve asked, eyes filled with boyish humor as he looked where Y/N sat.

"Oh ha ha, very funny Stevie." Y/N groaned, fiddling with the gold band on her finger.

"Just a thought, what's the worst thing that could happen?" Steve replied. Y/N looked over to Steve and watched him as he drove, his eyes were half lidded with poorly hidden exhaustion, but he had a small smile on his face as he looked towards the endless road in front of him.

"Well, I don't think we could get drunk married twice. But who knows where another night getting sloshed in Vegas could lead, I might wind up pregnant." Y/N said before she could stop herself. Over the course of the past couple of months, neither Steve nor Y/N brought up what happened that night, when they both got back to the hotel room. Both of them assumed the other didn't remember, but they both knew. Y/N thought about that night often, she could never forget it. That night was burned into the back of her mind forever.

***

Steve couldn't stop touching her. His hands were everywhere, gripping, pulling, caressing every inch of Y/N's body as he kissed her. Y/N had her leg wrapped around his waist as she ran her fingers through his hair, it was just as soft as she thought it was. They were both in the elevator heading back to their hotel room, the duffle bag of winnings kept banging into Y/N's hip, but neither of them cared. Their drunken minds too preoccupied with each other than their surroundings.

Y/N could vaguely hear the chimes of the elevator going up each floor, but she could barely pay attention to it when Steve started trailing kisses down her neck. Every nerve in her body was singing, she could feel the stubble on his chin drag across the plains of her skin. He started sucking on her neck, and Y/N couldn't control the moan that left her throat.

"Steve." Y/N whined, and he only stopped leaving the mark on her throat to groan as she said his name.

"Say it again." Steve ordered, voice husky and slightly slurred. He bit down on curve of her neck, and Y/N felt her knees buckle.

"Steve!" She moaned, so loud she was sure everyone in the building could hear what they were doing.

"Fuck, don't stop." Steve pressed his leg in between Y/N's open thighs, and that's when she felt it. The length of his hard cock was pressed against her, straining against his black dress pants. She slid her hips against it, heat pooling deep inside of her.

"Steve, Steve, Steve." She chanted as she rubbed herself against him. Steve started kissing her again, it was sloppy, wet, filled with tongue and teeth. Y/N didn't want it to stop.

The doors of the elevator opened, and he didn't hesitate to drag her across the hallway to the door of their room. They kept switching places with each passing door, with either Steve shoving Y/N against the wall or her shoving him. When they finally got to the door Steve let out a groan.

"We, fuck, we.. we never found my key." Steve whined.

"I have... I have mine. It's, uh, it's in my purse." Y/N replied as she turned away from him to open the door.

"You're a fucking genius Y/N. A goddamn, miracle." Steve said as he wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing his chest against her back. Y/N struggled to open the door, her mind fuzzy with alcohol and the feeling of Steve's cock pressed against her ass. She finally got the door open, and he all but shoved her inside.

It was a bit of a blur then, she remembers Steve throwing the duffle bag somewhere on the couch, and Y/N complaining that she felt sweaty. That's when she remembered Steve filling the hot tub, Y/N was on her knees trying to take off his jacket. She slowly peeled off every layer of his clothing until he was left in his boxers and socks. Y/N could see the tent that formed inside his white Calvin's, a wet spot at the very tip. She wanted to lick it.

"Turn around baby." Steve instructed. Y/N followed his order and turned away from him, he slowly unzipped her dress and lifted it over her head, tossing it somewhere in the room. She turned back around and Steve started kissing her again. The tub was full then, and he slowly stepped inside, leading her to join him. She didn't stop kissing him once.

The tub was warm and bubbly, Y/N was straddling Steve's lap, her hips grinding against him. She didn't know if it was her that was moaning or him, but she didn't care either way. She just had to keep touching him. She felt like if she stopped touching him, Steve was going to disappear.

"Can, shit, can I?" Steve asked, his fingers flicking the band of Y/N's bra. She nodded and started kissing him again, but he stopped her.

"I-I need to hear you say it. Please baby, I need to hear it." Steve begged.

"Yes, please, Steve, please." Y/N whined, kissing him between every word. She could feel him smile through the kiss as he skillfully undid her bra. She felt the straps slowly fall down her shoulders, before it started to float away in the jets. Y/N pressed her bare chest against his, not once stopping the slow rhythm of her hips as she grinded against him.

Steve had one hand gripping her hip tightly, while the other moved up to touch her chest. Y/N could feel the smooth touch of his fingertips as they lightly dusted across her nipple. She couldn't control the full body shiver she let out, and she couldn't control the loud moan that left her lips when Steve lowered his mouth to lick it.

Y/N let her head fall back with a whine, wanton and desperate. She arched her back, and Steve planted wet kisses across both of her breasts.

"Y/N, f-fuck, please. Can I please touch you." Steve begged in her chest, his kisses trailing upwards again towards her neck. "I'm gonna make a mess in here if you keep movin' like that. Please baby, let me touch you. I'll make it sooo good for you, I promise Y/N. Just let me in." She could hardly think, she was hot, too hot. All she could feel was heat, inside her, around her, just so much heat.

"Yes, yes please. I don't care if it hurts, just touch me." Y/N pleaded.

The first and only time Y/N had sex was when she was 17. His name was Sean McLaughlin, a rookie cop at the Hawkins police department. He used to flirt with her when she'd visit her dad at the station, he was freshly 19. He asked her out on a couple dates, and she hid it from her dad, his boss. She lost her virginity in the back of his pick up truck out by Lover's Lake. It hurt at first, and didn't feel very good throughout, but he said that was normal for girls. And she believed him. It was a week later that Sean announced he was leaving Hawkins for Indianapolis, she never heard from him again.

"Hurts? What, uh, what are you talking about?" Steve asked, his kisses coming to a complete stop.

"It's supposed to hurt for girls, I- I know. It's okay, as long as it's you." Y/N replied. She looked down to see Steve staring at her, his half lidded eyes sad and angry. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, caging her to him.

"I don't know who the fuck told you that bullshit, but it's not supposed to hurt. It's supposed to feel good." Steve replied. Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment, so she rubbed her hips against Steve's length, hard, and swallowed the choked gasp that escaped his lips.

"Then show me Stevie, show me how it's meant to be." Y/N whispered in his ear, pulling the lobe in between her teeth.

Steve wasted zero time in pulling her white lace panties off of her. She could feel the delicate fabric slowly inch down, before she was forced to lift her hips out of the water. He struggled to get them off for a moment, and it made Y/N giggle watching his face warp in frustration, like her underwear personally offended him. Once they were finally free off of her body, Steve swung the damp fabric around his finger, a smug smile on his face. He pulled the string back like a sling shot, and launched it to the other side of the room. Before Y/N could complain, Steve brought his lips against hers. Her head was spinning, and all she could focus on was the feeling of Steve’s fingers trailing down her middle.

His touch was feather light as he ghosted her skin, she barely felt him grace the trimmed hairs between her legs. Y/N desperately wanted him to move quicker, press harder. She tried to grind against his hand, but the firm grip he had on her hip kept in her place. She was stuck, and had to be patient.

Steve's fingers were slow, moving with a purpose. She felt them tread lightly against her pussy, warm and wet from the bubbling water around her. She was whining, begging him to do something. He chuckled, and finally gave in. She felt him flip his wrist and cup her right where she wanted him, his palm pressing hard against her clit.

"Yes, yes, more, please, please, please." Y/N was babbling, desperate and shameless with her begging. Steve kept his hand there, gently moving it up and down against her.

"You want some more sweet girl?" Steve hummed, perfectly content with keeping his pace. He was driving Y/N crazy.

"Yes, God, Steve, more I-I need more." That's when she felt it, his long finger pushing inside of her. Steve's thumb was rubbing gentle circles on her clit, pumping the digit slowly in and out, in, and, out. Y/N tried to lift her hips up, slide up and down on his hand, but Steve's grip never faltered. She loved it, she hated, she needed him to get a move on.

"Fuck, Steve." She whined, Steve finally letting up on his grip as he pushed another finger inside her. Y/N began bounding on his hand, back arched and chest fully on display in front of his face. He left kisses everywhere he could touch, maintaining a steady rhythm with his fingers.

Everything was too much, too much and not enough. She could feel her tits bouncing with every thrust of her hips, moans and whines escaping from her mouth without her control. She had never felt like this before, sexy, reeling with pleasure. Y/N ran her fingers through Steve's hair, and pulled.

"Fuuck, that's it Y/N, good girl. Keep going, s-shit, you're squeezin' the life out of me." Steve groaned, his pace growing faster and faster, pumping in and out of her. He could feel how soft, warm, and wet she was, how incredible she looked in the throws of ecstasy. He was sucking on her neck, gripping her ass as she rode his hand. Y/N didn't think anything could ever feel this good, that was, until Steve curled his fingers and pressed on something so deep inside her it felt like she was about to explode.

"Yes! Steve, Steve, right there. Don't stop, please, right there, right there. Fuck, don't stop!" Screw the hotel, Y/N was moaning so loud surely all of Las Vegas could hear her. Something was building inside her. Her pussy was pulsing, throbbing, with every thrust of Steve's fingers. A molten heat was spreading thick in her veins. She was on the razor's edge of bliss, she just needed a little more, just a little more and she'd be there.

"You close sweet girl? Gonna cum for me? You're doing soo fucking good, baby. Please Y/N, fuck let me see it. I need to see it. Cum for me. Let me see my wife cum on her husband's fingers." Steve begged, his fingers maintaining the same mind melting rhythm inside of her. A few more thrusts and she was over the edge, waves of intense pleasure washing over her. She was cumming harder than she ever had before, it just went on and on and on as he worked her through it.

"There it is, perfect, fucking sublime. You look so gorgeous like this Y/N. Oh God, I could do this all day, every day, all fucking night. Watch you cum over and over again, I'd never get tired of it. So good, you did so good for me." Steve praised, pressing gentle kisses on her face. She never felt this good before, didn't think she'd ever feel this good again. It was so much, it filled her, consumed her whole. The waves trickled down as Steve slowed his fingers, Y/N's body collapsing into him.

She remembers Steve pulling his fingers out of her, and asking her something. She didn't remember what he said, but she did remember him softly chuckling to himself as he clumsily carried her out of the tub. His legs wobbly and unsteady as he grabbed a towel for her.

Steve got her dressed and tucked her into bed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before he walked away. Y/N was barely conscious, but she would never forget watching him walk to the bathroom, sopping wet boxers clinging to his ass. She watched him slowly lower them onto the tile floor, before taking his cock in hand and finishing himself off. Y/N could see Steve's beautiful face through his reflection on the bathroom mirror, gorgeous chest and stomach on display, but not what laid underneath. She felt like a voyeur, watching Steve pleasure himself, but her drunken mind didn't care. She needed to see him cum, see what he looked like when he did.

After a few minutes she got her wish. Steve came into the palm of his own hand, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an 'o' as he did. He threw all of himself into it, head back, throat exposed, spine arched in bliss. Steve was vocal. Deep moans, whines and groans escaping his lips as he came.

It was rapturous, and Y/N passed out seconds later.

***

"Don't want to start on our six little Harringtons quite yet Y/N?" Steve jested as he drove. Y/N shook herself out of the fantasy, it wasn't the time nor place for a lustful stroll down memory lane.

"Please, I'm pretty sure we'd put your father in an early grave if I came home from this trip knocked up." She said with a note of relief. Y/N was grateful that their friendship hadn't been ruined, despite the colossal elephant in the room. Getting married was one thing, hooking up was something else entirely. You could write the marriage off as a drunken mistake, but the intimacy they shared in that tacky hotel room couldn't be, at least not for her.

Y/N wasn't naive, she knew Steve had experience. He had girlfriends, casual hook ups, a one night stand or more. It shouldn't bother her, didn't bother her, but it was different for Y/N. Her one experience was nothing compared to what she did with Steve. He took care of her, in more ways than one, and took nothing from her for himself. That night tilted Y/N's world on its axis, and the gravitational pull she felt for Steve only got stronger when her memories of that night returned to her. She feared that Steve was becoming her Sun, and she the lonely moon, basking in his light as she's drawn into him by a magnetic pull. Bit by bit Steve was placing himself as the center of her universe, but two celestial bodies don't make a solar system. She was just one fragment of Steve's life, and the thought ate away at her like an all consuming black hole.

"You're probably right. Wouldn't want to send my old man to meet his maker just yet, what a horrible tragedy that would be." Steve said, heavy sarcasm strung throughout. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of her situation. Here she was, driving to California with her legal husband Steve Harrington, joking around about having kids and his shitty dad. It made her miss her own father terribly, and suddenly she didn't feel like laughing anymore. She took her legs off the dash and put them in their rightful place on the car floor, all of the easy going feelings draining from her as she sunk her head into the leather headrest.

Steve noticed her quick change of mood, of course he did. He reached over and lightly grabbed the inside of her thigh, just above her knee, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. An innocent touch filled with affection, but Y/N couldn't stop the brief shiver that traveled down her spine. It was so similar to how it was that night.

"Your Dad would be proud of you, ya know." he consoled, "How good you are with El, your work at the station, all that jazz."

"You'd think he'd be proud of me for getting wasted and hitched in Vegas?" Y/N mused, turning her head to face Steve once again. His eyes quickly switched from her to the road, but even in the dark she could see the top of Steve's ear turn pink.

"I'm pretty sure your Dad would have kicked my ass. Shit, I'm almost positive if Mike wasn't 14 he would have knocked him around a bit, so there would be absolutely zero hope for me." Steve began, "You on the other hand? I think he'd just avoid the subject all together and pretend it didn't exist. Hopper didn't seem the type do well with awkward emotional stuff."

"You're certainly right about that one. He had to consult Joyce on anything that required sensitivity after Mom left." Y/N chuckled, "There was this one time, I was around El's age, and I had a massive crush on this boy." Steve whipped his head to face her, eyes scrunched and moody.

"Who?" He asked as he nearly drove the car into the oncoming traffic lane. He adjusted quickly, but Y/N was too busy laughing at him to notice. He sounded like a startled owl when he said it.

"Don't get pissy at me when I tell you." Y/N chastised, even though she knew he would.

"Christ, who was it?" Steve groaned. A part of her didn't want to tell him, but it wouldn't be fair to keep secrets from her legal husband.

"Jonathan Byers." Y/N stated, and it took everything within Steve to not slam his foot on the breaks.

"Jonathan?! Seriously Y/N?!" He complained.

"I told you not to get pissy at me when I told you." Y/N said as she rolled her eyes, knowing the theatrics Steve was about to bestow upon her.

"What is it about Jonathan fucking Byers that gets him all this attention. I mean Jesus Y/N, he was a year below you, how did you even notice him?" Steve tried to control the obvious jealousy in his voice, but he was clearly failing at it.

"Nancy was a year below you and you noticed her." Y/N had a point there, so Steve thought it would be best to keep his mouth shut. "Besides it was 8th grade, that's like ancient history."

"What did Hopper ask Joyce about?" Steve begrudgingly asked, too curious for his own damn good.

"Well as I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted." Steve rolled his eyes, but let her continue on with her story. "I had a huge crush on Jonathan. It all started when he complimented my Science Fair project on general relativity."

"Was that the one where you made outer space out of yarn? With the lead ball and magnets?" Y/N was surprised that he remembered it. The Science Fair was mandatory for all 7th and 8th graders, only of handful of kids got really into it. She spent weeks weaving her own version of the fabric of space, finding different balls with various sizes and weights to display how mass affects gravity. Only a couple of kids showed up to her display, but she didn't remember seeing Steve.

"Yea, how did you know?" Y/N asked, pausing her story once again.

"My display was across from yours. I had the really shitty baking soda volcano, it barely worked." Steve reminisced, "Anyway, continue on about how Jonathan Byers stole your heart over Einstein." He sounded a bit too jaded, but it was too late to dwell on it now.

"Well, he walked up to my display and asked me a bunch of questions on relativity. He was the first person, besides my Dad, who seemed to actually give a shit about what I had to say. It was instant butterflies." Y/N continued on, "I nursed this crush until Valentine's Day, I made him this really dumb card that said You Matter A Lot To Me with three cylinders, but instead of circle particles for each state of matter they were hearts." Hopper lost his mind with how much glitter she spilled on the living room carpet after she was finished with her card. It took weeks to get most of it out, but for years later she'd find a random speck of red glitter floating around as a reminder.

"Let me guess, he didn't like the card?" Steve would never understand it if he didn't, if she made him a card like that he'd put it on a frame on his nightstand till the end of time.

"No, I never gave it to him. I was about to put it in his locker when I saw him give Stacey Maloney a Valentine's Day card. My little 14 year old heart shattered, and I came crying home to Dad. He was completely clueless." Y/N giggled at the memory, "So he calls up Joyce, and after a brief argument of him asking why her son hurt his daughters feelings, he asked her what he should do. I don't know what she told him, but he took me out for ice cream and said I shouldn't cry over a dumb boy because he didn't like me. He tried to do this whole analogy thing about princes and ogres, but I think he got lost in the metaphor. It made me feel better though."

"And I'm assuming Jonathan was the ogre in that situation?" Steve snickered.

"Yea, he was. Does that make you feel better Stevie?" Y/N teased, amused by his thinly veiled annoyance.

"Oh yea, totally." Steve replied with a laugh, "I'm sure where ever Hopper is right now, he's glad you didn't accidentally marry an ogre."

"Does that make you the Prince then?" Meaning the words more seriously than they sounded. Steve looked over to her, a charming smile on his face.

"His excellency, Prince Harrington, at your service."

Steve and Y/N made it to Lenora Hills later than they thought. By the time they unloaded the moving truck it was past dark. Joyce thought the pull out couch she bought would have been delivered by the time they got there, but it never arrived. She felt horrible, apologizing ad nauseam to the two of them, but they didn't mind it. Steve reassured her that they would find a motel somewhere and help them finish unpacking in the morning, and after a few more I'm so sorry's, they were off on the search for a neon vacancy sign. They ended up finding a beachfront motel 30 minutes away that didn't look too bad. Steve took care of booking the room while Y/N dipped her toes into the ocean water.

She had never seen the ocean before, not in person. It was a deep rich navy blue, ripples of bright moonlight scattered across its surface. Y/N thought she could sit and stare at the open ocean for hours.

"I took care of the room, so we're all set there. I saw a convenience store a couple blocks back that looked open, if you want I could grab us something to snack on before bed." Steve said as stood beside her, Nike sneakers in hand.

"Can we eat on the beach? It's a pretty nice night, seems like a waste to stay inside." Y/N asked, eyes still facing the ocean waters. She didn't notice that Steve's eyes weren't focused on the picturesque scenery around them, they were locked on her as she stared at sea in wonder.

"For sure, sweet girl. Anything you want." Y/N felt the heat rush to her cheeks from the endearment, but before she could comment on it Steve handed her the room key and made his way to the car.

The motel room was simple in design, nothing like the room they shared in Vegas. The walls were light blue, cheap art of surf boards and seashells decorated the walls. There was a mini fridge, a small TV, and a circle table big enough for two next to the door. There was one queen sized bed in the center, and Y/N sighed to herself at the bizarre familiarity of it all. Steve had already carried their bags inside, and took the initiative of putting away their toiletries away in the bathroom.

She hopped in the shower to rinse off the sand and grime from a long day's drive, the warm water rejuvenating her skin. As she went through her routine her minded wandered to thoughts Steve, as she often did these days. The way he spoke to her, about her, throughout the trip was bittersweet. It was as if they were a real young married couple. When they stopped for gas she heard him ask the cashier if they had any Reese’s Cups in stock. He told the clerk that they were his wife’s favorite, and no Reese’s Pieces were not the same: “the Mrs. is very particular about her chocolate.”

He did that a lot, refer to her as his wife, refer to himself as her husband. She knew he took the vow seriously, as temporary as it would be, but every time he said it, the lines she so carefully drew in stone were whisked away like the sandy beach just outside their motel room door. Y/N battled with herself about whether or not she should tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him that every time he said it, she wished it were true. That they did everything right, fell in love, went steady, got married with all of their loved ones around them. It was a reminder that even though she had what she wanted, it wasn’t real. It was a drunken mistake, Steve would leave her the second the divorce papers were signed. The more he referred to her as his wife, the less she wanted to be known as his friend. Y/N didn’t think she could handle the heartbreak of losing the man of her dreams while she still had his last name. She never told Steve this, but a few weeks before they left for California she legally changed her name to Harrington. The new driver’s license sat heavy in her wallet, knowing she’d have to change it back eventually. Y/N told herself that it just made things easier until they could call a lawyer, but deep down she knew she wanted proof that on some level, she belonged to Steve, and he belonged to her.

“Y/N? You there?” Steve’s voice rang out through the small motel room.

“Finishing up in the shower Stevie, be right out!” Y/N wrapped her body with a towel and walked outside the bathroom. Steve was scavenging his duffle bag for the beach towel they packed, the six packs of beer and plastic bags filled with goodies he bought from the convenience store scattered around him. She casually waltzed over to her bag and grabbed a pair of jeans and the sweatshirt she stole from Steve after their Vegas trip, and went back to the bathroom to get changed.

"Did you pack the beach towel?" Steve asked after he dumped the contents of his duffle bag on the ground.

"It's in your black duffle bag at the bottom." Y/N shouted from the bathroom as she pulled her legs through her jeans, jumping a bit as she pulled the belt loops up. They were her favorite Levi's, and she shrunk them by accident at the laundromat. They still fit, but they hugged her hips and thighs tighter then normal.

"I just checked and it's not in there." Steve groaned, roughly shoving the stuff back in the bag.

"It's in your other black duffle, with the white seams, not black." Y/N was almost finished getting ready, all she needed to do was roughly blow dry her hair. Steve packed hers specifically, it was another thing she was particular about.

"It's not here." Steve said as he walked into the bathroom, hands on his hips and a grumpy look on his face. Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, Steve could be so dramatic at times. She didn't notice that the frustrated look disappeared as he checked out her ass in the jeans she wore, a pair that quickly became Steve's favorite.

"We put it in the back of the trunk remember? Pretty sure the miniature hospital kit you keep back there is blocking it." She giggled as she finished up with her hair. Steve quickly shot his eyes back up to her face, not wanting to get caught by his stare.

"I've had my ass kicked one too many times to not keep a first aid kit back there. Besides, with all the little buttheads we supervise you can never be too careful." Steve sounded slightly peeved, but there was no denying he would drop everything for those kids if they needed him. Steve walked outside the motel room in search for the duffle bag, and Y/N took inventory of all the stuff Steve bought. There were two six packs of Corona, chilled to the touch from the fridge, a couple of limes, a large bag of tortilla chips, a jar of spicy salsa, and two packs of Reese's cups. All of her favorite things. It scared her a bit, how much Steve knew her. It wasn't the same fear she felt when facing the demogorgon, demodogs, or Mind Flayer, it was the type of fear of being known so well by one person, despite trying so hard to keep yourself guarded.

"You were right, right there in the trunk. I swear I'd be lost without ya Y/N." Steve joked as he swung the large beach towel over his shoulder. Her heart warmed by his words, and she desperately wanted him to mean them the way she did.

"Sure, Stevie. Whatever you say." Y/N said with barely contained fondness.

The two of them made their way to the beach, the moon and stars the only sources of light on their path. Steve carefully laid out the towel and scattered their convenience store bounty on top. They both sat down and dug into their feast. Steve cut open a lime with the Swiss army knife he carried on his keychain, struggling a bit before finally releasing two wedges to put inside the bottles of Corona. They made a toast to a successful drive, and sat in a comfortable silence as they ate.

They cleared through both six packs, feeling a bit tipsy from the alcohol and light food in their stomachs. Steve was telling a story about the first and and last time he saw the ocean, before this trip together. It was his freshman year in high school, his parents were on one of their many business trips and made him come along. Normally Steve would stay home with a sitter, but his dad's business partner was bringing his daughter along and thought they could spend time together. Her name was Jenny Connors, and she was his first girlfriend.

"So Jenny and I spent the day at the beach. I wanted to go swim in the ocean but she wanted nothing to do with it. She said she didn't want to ruin her hair, or something. Which I get 'cause, well, it's me. I take great pride in my hair, but she wouldn't even let me go in the water 'cause she didn't want to be alone. I was so bummed out 'cause that was the one thing I was excited about that whole trip." Steve went on, "Dad said it was my job to make her happy, so I just did whatever she wanted. Took her on dates and shopping and shit, which is fine, but she didn't wanna do anything I brought up. We just never clicked ya know? Don't know why I wasted so much time with her." Steve took a long sip of this last beer, finishing the bottle off. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down as he drank, Y/N was transfixed with the movement, before she forced herself to look away from him.

"Maybe because you were 15 and that's what 15 year olds do. They date." Y/N sounded slightly bitter, knowing she was the exception to the rule. She never wanted to casually date, there were hardly any boys that caught her eye. Her standards were impeccably high, and the one guy who did meet them was sitting right next to her, completely oblivious to her thoughts about him.

"Yea, I guess. Back then it was just something I thought you were supposed to do, I didn't take it seriously. But, I don't know... Never mind it's stupid." Steve mumbled.

"No, come on tell me." Y/N began, "I promise I won't think it's stupid." Steve laid down on the beach towel, eyes staring up into the sky. She laid down next to him, but couldn't help but stare at his face as he spoke.

"I always kinda imagined myself as a puzzle ya know? Like, there were a bunch of pieces of me that slowly got put together over time, and I knew there was always gonna be missing pieces if I didn't find them." Steve continued, "Like, the missing pieces weren't a part of me exactly, they were from other people. I found one when I started hanging around Dustin, and because of so many fucked up circumstances he wiggled his way into my puzzle. The little twerp is like a brother to me, and I can't imagine my life without him. Hell, each of the kids are puzzle pieces, and I know my future kids will be pieces too. There are more important pieces too, like you."

"Me?" Y/N breathed, heart pounding in her chest.

"Yea, of course. You're like, easily my favorite person Y/N. You're my best friend, but don't tell Robin or Dustin that, they'll flip." Steve chuckled, "But yea, you're a huge puzzle piece. You help make me a more complete puzzle."

Y/N was speechless. She had no idea she meant so much to him. It pained her a bit to listen to him refer to her as his best friend, despite it being true. He was her best friend too, but unlike Steve, she wanted to be so much more than that.

"You're a missing puzzle piece for me too, Stevie." It was the only thing Y/N thought to say without giving herself away. She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, pushing past her sandy boundaries once again, and sat up on the blanket.

"It's getting late, we should head back." Y/N said as she tried to stand up, but Steve stopped her.

"Can we do something kind of stupid before we go to bed?" Steve asked as he held onto the sleeve of his old sweatshirt.

"What?" Y/N questioned with a tilt to her head.

"Can we just act like dumb kids for a bit? Go night swimming, stuff our faces with the candy I bought, and I don't know, build a pillow fort in the motel room or something? I just think... I think we had to grow up really fast. I just want hit pause for tonight, just for us." Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his odd request, but in that moment she thought there was nothing else in the world she wanted to do more. She could spend the rest of her life doing exactly that, hit pause on life so they could enjoy each other for awhile. It sounded like a dream.

"Yea Stevie, I'd love too."

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