#bryan smaller

[nofatclips]

Behold, The Glove by Matt Bellamy from the album Cryosleep - Director: Lance Drake

[nextstopwonderland]

Filed under two guys who adore each other but have to spend most of their lives making us believe otherwise

(3rd gif by mith-gifs-wrestling)

[gotweim]

There ain't no love a man can find

You'd feel her in a room if you was blind

There ain't a grand thing a man can do

She'll only love you for you

[the-kipsabian]

HEY YO

[angry-kid-with-no-money]

WIP Wednesday Game

Newsies college au, newsies college au

“Sooo, David, how long have you been playing Exy?”

“Uh almost seven years. Sir.”

Denton smiled at him, “my team just calls me Coach or Denton kid.” David nodded silently, staring at a spot just above the man’s shoulder in lieu of making eye contact with him. “Your stats are certainly very impressive Jacobs. Your playing style demonstrates a level of skill and confidence I think would fit nicely onto my team, so I would like to offer you a full ride scholarship to Pulitzer University and in return you will play for my team ey? How does that sound kid?”

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Smaller Acts — Quinn Hughes

Summary; Quinn meets you and realizes you’re different from girls he’s previously dated and that’s something he loves about you

Content Warning: alcohol consumption, pure domesticity, mentions of the canucks losing a game(to a unspecified team), fluff.

Based on Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan.

She’s got a need to leave you wanting more.

Quinn was sure he’d died and gone to heaven the night he met you. He’d been out with a group of his teammates celebrating his newly appointed captaincy. Brock had been the first to spot you and the group of girls you were with. However Quinn was the one who couldn’t take his eyes away from you. He was typically a shy and introverted person but for some reason he had the burning desire to approach you. But he didn’t.

Your best friend, Lydia hadn’t taken her eyes off of the group of men who’d walked in about forty-five minutes after you did. You heard them toast to one of them becoming captain. You were strangely pulled to the one who’d become captain. You weren’t shy to put yourself out there. You approached the bar and waited to be acknowledged by the bartender, who approached you almost immediately as he drank in your appearance. Your dark hair in curls, glossy red lips and a tightly fitting outfit.

You grinned sheepishly as you made eye contact with the man who’d been made captain, “Another cherry vodka sour and whatever the captains having. On me.” The man looked up at you bewildered. You straddled the barstool next to him and sat, “So should I keeping calling you Captain or could I get a name?” The man looked like a deer in headlights, “Quinn.” You hummed as you lightly bit your lip, “Nah.I think Captain suits you better.” Quinn raised an eyebrow and spoke out in a rushed manner, “Really? Why’s that?”

You shrugged as you sipped your drink, “Captain sounds sexier. It fits you. Have a nice night Captain.” You winked at him as you began to walk away. Quinn’s eyes were glued to your ass as you departed, “Wait!” You spun around with a small smirk on your lips as he spoke again, “I didn’t catch your name.” You smirked as you stood in place, “I didn’t give you it. It’s y/n.” You spun around and walked out of the bar before he could speak again. Quinn was in awe as you walked away. He looked down at the bar to find a cherry stem tied in a knot by your empty glass. Damn you were good.

Leave your shoes off at the door, cause dinners waiting on you.

You and Quinn had got in touch not too long after the night you met at the bar. You two had become quick friends, although you flirted with him so much he was unsure if you wanted to be just his friend. Regardless he invited you to the lake house that summer. He and his brothers and Trevor had left you alone in the house for a good three hours while they were on the boat. They’d invited you but you declined as you got motion sickness easily on boats.

You were currently cleaning up the kitchen after you’d made dinner. Your ears were filled by the sound of the boat engine shutting off. You hurried onto the boat dock, sporting a wide smile, “Shoes off boys. I mopped I don’t want your dirty shoes messing up my work. Dinners done.” The four men looked between themselves and then at you before smiling and a chorus of thanks filled your ears.

Quinn hung back as the other three entered the house, “You didn’t have to do that.” You smiled at him as you adjusted your crop top, “I know. I wanted to.” Quinn looked down at you with a small glint of something unreadable in his eyes, “You’re amazing, you know that?” You grinned up at him through glimmering eyes, “Tell me about it. Come eat before it gets cold or they eat it all.” Quinn laughed, “The second is probably more likely.”

Grand things don’t impress her much,she’s keen to smaller acts.

Quinn was less than happy when you met Noah. He found him incredibly irritating and extremely wrong for you. Quinn had been shocked when you opened the gift that Noah had gotten you for your birthday. It was a expensive and glamorous necklace that Quinn knew you would hate just by how expensive it looked. He noticed how the smile you sported when you opened it seemed forced and somehow didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He saw how your eyes lit up when you opened the gift he got you. It was a beautiful matching turquoise necklace and earrings set. You’d seen it on your trip to Nashville you took with the Hughes siblings to see Zach Bryan in concert. It was in a family antique store’s window. You inquired about the price and the woman told you the entire set was only $20. You gasped lightly as you looked at Quinn, “You didn’t. Quinn i don’t know what to say.”

Quinn smiled softly, “Don’t say anything. Put it on. It’ll go perfectly with your dress.” And you did that, the turquoise complimented your tan skin and dark hair and looked stunning against your white dress. Quinn made note of how your smile never fell after you opened his gift. He also took note of how he stopped seeing Noah after your birthday party.

Never needs much and sure knows how to dance.

Two months later, you joined the Hughes brothers, Trevor, Jamie and Nico on a spontaneous trip to Dallas. You and Quinn had been seeing each other for a good few weeks, but you had kept it from the rest of the guys. So when Trevor suggested you all go like dancing you agreed. You’d grown up in Fort Worth so you had a little bit of experience in line dancing. So you found yourself teaching Quinn, his hands rested on the small of your back and the two of you were unaware of the audience that you had.

You’d feel her in a room, if you was blind.

Quinn’s head was between his knees. He heard the door to to locker room open. He was the only occupant in the room. He didn’t even need to lift his head to know who’d entered the room. You had a calming presence that always affected Quinn. Your voice came out soft and feathery almost causing Quinn to forget the loss, “Hi Q.” Quinn didn’t look up, he couldn’t meet your eyes. He felt like he had disappointed you. You sat down on the bench next to your boyfriend, you began to reassuringly rub circles on his back, “It’s not your fault babe.” Quinn looked up, finally making eye contact with you.

His eyes were bloodshot and it was apparent he’d been crying. Your face softened as you pulled him into a tight embrace, “Oh Quinn.” Quinn melted into your touch, “I just feel like I failed the guys. I’m supposed to be a leader and someone they can look up to. I let them down. And I disappointed you.” You lifted his face up, “You could never disappoint me Quinn Hughes. You went out there and did your very best. Sometimes we fall short. You didn’t let the guys down. You will come in tomorrow and get back on top. You had a bad game not a bad season.” Quinn sniffled as he weakly smiled at you, “You really are the greatest aren’t you?”

There ain’t a thing a man can do. She’ll only love you for you.

Quinn Hughes was head over heels for you. He had been since the night he met you. But seeing you standing in his bathroom doing skin care wearing nothing but your panties and one of his Canucks shirts drove him crazy. He’d known for months he was in love with you, but he was unsure if he should tell you. But seeing the sight of you in his clothes looking so perfect was the selling point. His voice came out sure and smooth, “I love you.” You didn’t skip a beat as you rubbed your facial serum into your skin, “I love you too Quinnie.” Quinn sighed as your words filled his ears. He was finally at peace with you and the smaller acts that he would argue are the biggest things in the world.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Sun to Me || Leah Williamson

For the sake of the story, we’re going to pretend that Zach Bryan’s song of the same name came out way earlier than it really did :) no warnings i think, just a little fluff and angst?

Leah lay in bed wide awake at 5:34 am. The sun was just starting to rise and a sliver of light slipped into the room. She could hear Simon, your dog, walking around the room, trying to find himself a comfy spot to go back to bed. You had your leg thrown over hers, wrapped around her knee. Your breath hit her neck steadily, arm around her stomach gripping her shirt just a little.

Leah had had a bad day. It started with missing the first hour of training because her car had a flat tire that she insisted on changing herself when she didn’t really know how. You jumped in and saved the day when you heard her grumble in frustration as you enjoyed your morning coffee on the balcony above her.

Then she hurt her hamstring during training with Arsenal just a day after being announced in the England squad again. She called you sobbing, feeling angry with herself for being reckless and impatient. Again, you swooped in and met her in the training room in record time, pulling your girlfriend into your arms to comfort her.

Hauling her into your car an hour later, you surprised her with sunflowers in the passenger seat for her. She stood at the door and just stared at them, caressing the bright yellow petals with gentle fingers.

“How did you have time to get them? To get me?”

“Funny how fast news travels to me when it concerns you, Lee. You know I’d drop everything for you.”

“Who called?”

“Who didn’t?”

Leah sighed and looked down at you, pushing a couple of loose hairs from your bun out of your sleeping face. The look of pure calm on your face reminded her of the first time she met you. The scrawny kid trying out for the football team back home in Milton Keynes. Eleven year old you had braces and pigtails, an Arsenal jersey 2 sizes too big on, boots that were also too big, and a look of panic that none of the other girls had.

You immediately made it clear that your parents signed you up for an after-school activity that you were not particularly fond of. However, with some tips from your three older brothers and a stern warning from them about keeping up the family name, you made it on the team. Leah was also picked and you two made quick friends.

Your agility and smaller stature gave you the advantage as a striker while Leah’s taller, more athletic build benefitted her as a defender. You two had undeniable chemistry on the field and it showed on game days. Her long balls always found your feet and were almost always converted into goals. She just had to glance up at you to see you already looking at her, waiting for the ball.

By the time you were 17, your feelings for each other could no longer be ignored. For the sake of the team, you both had kept it to yourselves and pined for each other day in and day out but when the reality of Leah getting a position on the Arsenal first team came up, you couldn’t let her leave without a confession.

You pulled her into your room the night before her last game for the home team, shooing your roommate Grace out of the room for the night.

“You ready for tomorrow?” she asked sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the hotel room. You sat on your bed and picked at your thumbs, confession right on the tip of your tongue. Leah could sense your nervousness and knew you were hiding something.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and balling your fists. You took a deep breath, opened your eyes, and screamed, Leah standing in front of you with her face in yours.

“Don’t do that!” you yelled and hit her arm, watching as she flopped back on Grace’s bed laughing.

“Leah?” you call, the tension in the room broken. She chuckles just a little as she remembers the look on your face, sitting up and looking across from you.

“What’s up?” she questions, foot bouncing furiously. You reach over and rest a hand on it, immediately noticing her calm.

“I really like you. I realize that I have for a long time and the idea of you not knowing while you move up in football scared me. I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that this could ruin what we have but I couldn’t go one more game without you knowing how I feel about you.”

You carefully look up and expect anger on her face but are met with a look of love. Before you could say anything her lips were on yours, soft and warm. They molded perfectly in yours, that tingling sensation in both your stomachs. You fall back and she follows, lips never leaving yours.

She pulls away first and smiles, moving off you to lay beside you. You snuggle into her side like you are in the present, hand right over her rapidly beating heart.

“Will you be mine?” she asked after the game the next day on the bus home. You two were tucked away in the back of the bus, hidden from everyone else. Her hand found yours and held it in her lap, thumb gently rubbing the back of your palm as you shared earbuds. Zach Bryan’s raspy voice filled both your ears as you moved to lay your head against her chest.

You fell asleep to his voice and her hand in your hair, gently awoken 2 hours later with Leah’s Arsenal jacket draped around you. She walked you home hand in hand, face falling when she reached your doorstep.

“I leave in the morning with Mum,” she told you quietly, face fixated on the ground. You stood on the steps of your house, bags piled by your feet. A tear falls and hits her sleeves in her hoodie pocket and the dam breaks. She falls to her knees and you catch her, hugging her tight as she wishes you could come with her.

“I’ve got other plans for my future, Lee,” you tell her, tears filling your own eyes. “But all those plans have you in them, I promise.”

You take her face in your hands and her eyes are still watery. You wipe the stray tears away and smile, leaning in to peck her lips.

“I’ve waited a lifetime for you,” you whisper, “now I get the spend it with you.”

Leah glances at the clock and it’s almost when your alarm goes off. Simon jumped onto the bed fifteen minutes earlier and curled up by your feet, now fast asleep like his mum. She slipped out of bed as carefully as she could but Simon woke up when the blanket shifted. You remained in deep sleep, rolling over onto Leah’s much warmer spot on the bed.

She tiptoed out of bed and Simon followed, the little pads of his feet echoed in the living room as she poured his kibble into his bowl. She started the coffee machine and pulled out your favorite to make for breakfast, thankfully it was simple and hard to burn. As the toaster oven heated a couple of frozen waffles, Leah set out to clean the living room just a little to ease your load.

She laid the blanket over the couch and began to clear your notebooks when one of your sticky notes slipped out of it. She randomly stuck it back into your notebook hoping it wasn’t important when your pretty writing and her name caught her eye.

She opened the notebook and gasped, your writing was perfectly cursive and left no wasted space in the margins. You had been researching her ACL injury extensively, working closely in your clinics to find out why female athletes were plagued with this injury.

After Leah left for Arsenal, you pursued a lifelong dream of medicine, specifically as a sports medicine physician. After a career-ending knee injury for your father, he channeled his dream of playing professional football onto his children. Your brothers all became successful athletes, playing for fantastic clubs but you loved treating them when they got hurt. While you were still a great footballer, in the operating room was where your talents shone.

Having performed Leah’s surgery yourself, you drove deep into a rabbit hole of research to find out why this was common in women’s sports, specifically football.

Leah came home one day and felt the world crumble before her. She missed football. She missed being on the pitch. She missed getting teased by the girls for loving you so deeply. All she wanted was to come home and hear you yell at her for not putting her kit bag away or for forgetting to pick up celery like you’d asked. All she wanted was to see you wearing her jersey in the stands next to her family while she raced across the pitch to tackle someone or to watch the girls fawn over you when you brought coffee on Saturdays.

That day, she came home to an empty house. Simon was with you at the office and there was a note on the fridge for her. It told her you had an emergency surgery and to not wait up for you, and that there was dinner in the fridge for her too.

She sat in the living room in silence, the tinnitus in her ears the only constant in the room. Her leg was propped up like it should be and iced all around. The TV remote was too far to reach and her music player too far to set up. Her voices in her head were taking over the buzzing and she was slowly sinking in on herself.

What if she didn’t make it back to the team?

What if they didn’t want her to play for them again?

What if they found someone better than her?

What if they…

“Leah?”

Her head whips up and some tears fly off her cheeks with the speed. You’re standing in front of her in your scrubs and a wagging-tailed Simon by your side. He jumps onto the couch and settles beside her, you joining him seconds later. You caress her cheek and wipe her tears away, pressing your lips to hers.

Words aren’t necessary for her to tell you what was wrong. In her haze, she was beating herself up verbally and you had heard every word come out of her mouth. Your heart broke and felt heavy, she’s been struggling and kept it hidden very well.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she weeps, clutching your shirt tightly. You cradle her face like you did all those years ago on your doorstep. She looks up at you with that same watery look and you peck her lips just the same.

“You can and you will, Leah. I’ll be here every step of the way.”

The lyrics to Zach Bryan’s song that was playing from the music player pulled her out of her thoughts and the smell of burning waffles reminded her of why she was still here.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

[centrally-unplanned]

I watched two documentaries recently that were very "2000's nerd culture" which I thought were very fun! In like a meta way as cultural commentary, of course, it is me after all. The first was Indie Game: The Movie, a 2012 documentary on the making Braid, Super Meat Boy, and Fez. It is a "creator-focused" documentary and in particular for the latter two games the film crew actually filmed them mid-production & release, which does make for some authentically heartfelt scenes.

So in a certain sense all eras of documentary will contain this, but the 2000's going into the 2010's was absolutely rife with a new wave of films, often supported by crowdsourcing funds like Indie Game was, primarily concerned with the self-legitimization of niche subcultures. By creating something cohesive, academic, and prestigious like a documentary, the film can codify the subculture as "real" and "worthy", and additionally lend credence to narratives about the subculture that have grown prevalent. And to be clear, this is not a criticism, even if there are parts that are - all meaning and identity is forged in similar ways. But for nerd culture in the 2000's, there was a particularly intense need for this process, because this was the era of nerdom going mainstream. That level of culture shift generated demand for all the above, which films like this aim to supply. There were lot of films of this type - we made a brony "documentary" propaganda film guys, nothing was exempt.

Indie Game is overwhelmingly the story of outsider artists bleeding and dying for their art, which will triumph above all odds. And it leans, heavily, into the bleed; at one point Phil Fish (creator of Fez), openly states he might commit suicide if his game fails. Much screen time is spent on personal sacrifice, financial poverty, the "doubters", etc. This is of course a classic tale for artists, but if I may be so bold that is something of an easy sell - emotionally, narratively - for someone writing the Great American Novel. It is maybe harder to sell if you are making this?

(Cover art by Bryan Lee O'Malley btw - very era appropriate!) How do we make "dude in hat solves puzzles" worth the Starving Artist life?

We do that by positioning these games not as games, but as paradigms. These games, by dint of being the independent vision of unitary creators, are making games that Big Gaming never could. New digital means of distribution are allowing artists to cut out the middleman of publishers, groups that corrupt the real vision of creators. And with no barriers to development, now anyone (maybe...even you?) can make games that can compete in the big leagues. Indie games through this lens are a different product than mainstream titles, and these creators are opening doors. And their suffering is going to be financially rewarded with success and money to boot! That is the narrative Indie Game is selling to its audience of gamers, to understand why the indie games they bought and loved are meaningful.

And to be clear, as much as I am about to deconstruct this, it isn't like totally false or anything. Starting in the late 2000's digital platforms like Steam, more accessible development tools like Unity (released in 2005), and so on did in fact make smaller games appealing to more niche markets more viable, and by virtue of their nicheness yeah they can do things big budget games maybe can't. These creators absolutely had passionate visions for their games, sacrifice for your passions is fine (not bashing that part here), hats off to them. Indie games in this era would absolutely "change gaming".

But not really in the ways this narrative wants them to, nor with the "meaning" people of the time expected it to have. For one, there is a conflict in this documentary of them wanting to highlight "bold new visions" and also wanting to highlight...popular indie games. This is Super Meat Boy, for example:

Yeah, never had a 2D platformer blob guy dodging traps before in gaming! "No see its retro" yeah retro to what, old games? Like those Nintendo made back in the 90's, which you explicitly mention in your documentary? You know, niche indie studio Nintendo? This isn't a bash, at all, at the game itself, but instead the idea that "AAA Studios would never"; they totally would, and always did. There has never been an era where the large gaming studios weren't also making creative games, but for this narrative they need to be propped up as static for it to make sense. And the actual niche indie stuff that big studios wouldn't touch don't sell well enough to justify being in this film!

And the idea of the "solo developer" is also, hm, let us say a bit sus. Not that these developers weren't solo or small teams, they were (though ofc a solo core creator will often have dozens of helpers on supporting roles that get sidelined in this "unitary vision" narrative); but that such a model is all that new? How big do you think development teams were in the 90's for so many classic games? The original Pokemon Red/Blue game had less than a dozen core developers (the total staff list, including American localizers, is ~30 people - Super Meat Boy meanwhile seems to have 16 for comparison). You wanna bring up the dev teams for PC-98 visual novels? They were made in an Akihabara cave with a box of pixel art scraps by like 6 people! You think those games didn't have "unitary creative visions"? Small gaming companies have always been a part of the ecosystem, getting niche titles funded & published using insane magic and pure luck. The "indie boom" is better seen as a change in the numerator.

Though what did change is that, by being self-published, development was approachable by outsiders in new ways. Though even then, this is a bit of a lie - Jonathan Blow of Braid was an industry veteran, and everyone here plays the "convention circuit" and networks with people like the PAX crew and Xbox representatives. But with the games being published by an individual over a studio, even a studio of a half dozen people, it is far easier for the audience to see the creators as "one of them". No office, no suits, just a man in his gamer den banging out his dream. That aesthetic is core to why this narrative was potent at the time, and why making a documentary to codify it was seen as compelling. It takes an already ascendant idea, polishes it, packages it as nonfiction, and then sells the idea back to the people who invented it. LIke so much media, to be clear! I always enjoy seeing it, it is the dialectic of culture in action.

I also find it very funny to see a documentary made in 2012 playing tropes that will become far more ~problematic~ just around the corner. Burnout and work-life balance - in a documentary where a developer, crying, discusses suicide if his game fails, to remind you - is pretty much never mentioned, and a successful game launch is absolutely presented as justifying endless crunch. You would never see that today. The only women in this documentary are wives and parents - which is very amusing, because the co-creator of the film is a woman! No one thinks gender is relevant to mention. Boy would that change in a few years.

Indie games today, of course, are just a segment of the gaming market. They are incredibly common now, so much so that most people lose money making them, people discuss oversaturation, big studio companies have "indie wings" to cover consumer preference ranges, etc. There is no magic in it anymore, it is just dev strategy. So yeah, very enjoyable as a representative time capsule in a strain of culture that is pretty much gone now! The Capital-R Romantic Era of indie gaming; what a time.

In the next post, we are going much more niche, so stay tuned for that. Or don't, I don't know you, and like this was a loooot of writing. Maybe i'll, idk work on that for the next one? ...I probably won't -_-

[lovelytsunoda]

vermont // daniel ricciardo

summary: the ski trip sounded all well and good in theory. except for the fact that she would rather be in the chalet than on the slopes. so when she gets stuck on a ski lift and starts to hyperventilate, danny is the one to calm her down.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x female!reader

warnings: anxiety attack, fear of heights/vertigo, best wingwoman chloe, delusional and oblivious scotty, use of ‘pretty girl’, it feels kind of rushed and I don’t know how I feel about the ending-

she should have told chloe to come on the trip without her. she should have admitted she’s never been skiing before. but when she tried, scotty convinced her to come along anyways, because as far as the aussie was concerned “anybody can learn, it’s easy!”.

and yet, here she was, staring at the ski suit laid out on her double bed, rethinking every life choice she’d ever made leading up to this point.

her hands rubbed the fabric of her maroon turtleneck, teasing her bottom lip between her teeth.

god, this was such and awful idea.

there was a knock on her door, chloe’s voice carrying through. “y/n! are you ready yet? we’re heading down to the slopes!”

“coming out in just a second!” she called, hastily pulling the jacket over her clothes.

____

it was a nice enough day outside: the sun was bright, and the air warmer than expected for vermont in early december, a thick dusting of snow on the slopes as she tromped ungracefully over to the ski rental, where scotty and chloe were waiting with lance and his girlfriend marilou.

"there she is!" scotty shouts. "ready to put your skis on?"

"hang on, don't we have to wait for someone? we're missing a few people." she said nervously, trying desperately to put off the inevitable, even though she had promised chloe that she would at least try to get out of her shell this weekend

marilou nodded. "just daniel. knowing him, he's slept in and forgotten the plan, or he got distracted on his way out."

ah, yes. daniel ricciardo.

the man who made her heart skip three beats, the one person in their small, small friend group who always somehow managed to calm her down, remind her that the world wasn't so bad or scary and that everything would be okay in the end.

“well, we can’t start without the life of the party!” she said it too quickly, no doubt her nerves were showing.

there were so many winter activities they could have picked. so why skiing? why the one thing she’d sworn she’d never ever ever do?

“don’t need to wait guys!” when the sound of daniel ricciardos aussie drawl carried across the wind, she squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the urge to scream an expletive. “I’m right here, sorry I’m late!”

chloe shot her a sympathetic glance as the boys fist bumped each other and the crew turned in the direction of the ski lift.

“you’ll do fine!” the canadian encouraged, looping her arm around her best friend. “skiing is easy, it’s all downhill!”

y/n narrows her eyes. “it’s the not knowing how to balance or steer and accidentally crashing into things I’m better off not crashing into.”

chloe laughed, shaking her head as she patted y/n's shoulder. "don't think like that! just come and enjoy the outdoors with us!"

but despite it all, despite the friendly energy of the trip, the good vibes all around, she couldn't help but feel like she was intruding on a couple's trip: chloe and scotty, lance and marilou. daniel and . . . wait, he came alone too, didn't he?

but she didn't have time to think about it before she was strapped in to a pair of ski's, scotty's hands at her back to push her down the training hill.

it only took like....twenty tries before she figured it out, her skis sailing through the snow like butter as she finally managed to stay upright for the third run in a row. she was really getting the hang of it, she thought, pride swelling in her chest.

"nice job, y/n!" daniel shouted, having just come down one of the hills next to her smaller, beginner hill. "you're a natural!"

at the sound of praise dripping from daniel's lips, she felt her face go pink, and she was certain that it wasn't just from the cold, and that there was something more to it.

"oh, well, i've been practicing a lot. i feel kind of bad, actually, for monopolizing all of scotty's time. keeping him away from his wife and all that." she coughed to clear her throat, one gloved hand smoothing her hair back under the pom-pom toque she was wearing on top of her head.

daniel laughed. a big, hearty laugh that sent butterflies afloat in her chest, the kind of infectious laughter that could bring a smile to anybody's face.

"why don't you come up to the other hill with me, and we try you on something a little bigger?"

she turned her head in the direction daniel was gesturing, and she felt her stomach drop to the floor. "no way, not a chance. that's too high, my dude. what if is break my neck?"

scotty skidded to a stop in front of her, moving to look at the mountain. “no, no, that’s a good starter mountain is you want to move up to something bigger! go for it!”

while daniel cheered, y/n groaned, cursing inwardly.

beside her, lance laughed “you’ll have to move up to a bigger hill eventually, y/n. it’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared!” okay, maybe she was. just a little bit.

the group headed towards the ski lifts, filing in in sets of two, each pair heading for a different level hill. scotty and chloe headed for one of the most advanced, marilou and lance heading for a hill that was somewhere in the middle.

and that meant that is she wanted company on her hill, she would be stuck with daniel.

“after you, milady.” daniel chuckled, gesturing to the ski carriage, allowing her to slide in first, the aussie settling next to her.

the bar snapped down, the lift beginning on its way to take the skiers up the mountain. from this high up, the view across the slopes was actually quite nice: evergreens dusted in snow, ant-sized people in bright coats making their way down mountains.

until she stopped looking eye level, and found her eyes drifting downwards, stomach slammed instantly with vertigo.

yep, she was never doing that again.

“you okay?” daniel asked, concerned when he watched her scrunch her face up, eyes screwed shut.

“yep, yep. just trying not to look down.” she was gripping the chest bar so tightly that she was certain her knuckles were white underneath her gloves.

daniel frowned, reaching for her hand. “it’s okay to be scared of heights. is this why you didn’t want to come up the mountain?”

“maybe. that, and the fear of making a fool out of myself.” She was tight lipped as she answered, still keeping her eyes closed.

but now, she only felt like her heart would beat out if her chest because of the hand on top of hers, not the fall to the ground.

“we’re almost at the top, and then your skis will be on solid ground again.”

she slowly opened her eyes. “thank you.”

over the hum of the lift, she heard a groaning, and then a snap. the ski lift stuttered to a stop, and she couldn’t stop the terrified shriek that left her parted lips, one gloved hand reaching to squeeze the life out of daniels arm.

“hey, hey!” daniel shouted, trying to be heard over other panicked skiers. “look at me, look at me. can you do that?”

her chest was getting tight, body frozen with fear. she couldn’t open her eyes, limbs made of lead as she clung to the man next to her in the lift

“I-I don’t think I can, danny.”

“yeah you can. just focus on me, not the way the carriage is moving, and not what’s below you.” his voice was soothing, grounding. enough that she was able to turn her head slightly and open her eyes to face him.

“see, that wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?”

“no.” her voice was stil shaky as she stared into daniels eyes, feeling suddenly like he could see every part of her. every secret, every long held and unspoken truth.

and she liked it.

“just keep your breathing steady, and we will be out of here before you know it.” his voice started level and calm, his breath curling up into mist in the air.

“promise me?”

daniel leaned in, his soft lips warm against her forehead. the simple action, not quite a kiss but not that innocent either, set her skin ablaze in pink again, warmth spreading through her frozen appendages, from the tip of her nose to the ends of her fingertips.

“I promise.” daniel assured her, his gloved thumb rubbing reassuring circles on her skin.

she wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting like that when the lift whirred to life again, the carriage shakily confusing it’s ascent up the hill. realizing that the lift was moving again, she pulled away from danny, averting her eyes, looking anywhere except the man who had just held her so tenderly.

she shook her head, pulling her ski goggles back down over her eyes. “sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“don’t apologize, pretty girl.” daniel said softly. “you were scared. and I liked knowing that I could make you feel better. I care about you, y/n. as more than a friend.”

she paused, pulling her goggles back up. “you do?”

daniel beamed. “of course I do, and I’d love to get to know you better.”

“buy me a hot chocolate if I make it down the hill one piece?” she suggested, gently placing a hand on his forearm.

the lift reached the top of the hill, the bar raising and allowing the pair to slide off the metal chair, Danny’s hand in hers as he took the lead, guiding her towards the slope.

“and if I make it to the bottom first, you have to kiss me.” danny wagered, a mischevious look in his eyes as he flicked his goggles down.

y/n laughed, inching towards the slope like bambi on ice, all shaky legs and flailing limbs. “i think I ’ll take you up on that, ricciardo!”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @lorarri @userlando @silverstonesainz @cartierre @love4lando @sidcrosbyspuck @silversainz

[jaidens]

smaller acts — zach bryan

pairing [s] : spencer reid x reader

warning [s] : none!

a/n [s] : requests are open! + my red requests for fall are open for another week or so.!

The Keurig coffee machine stutters and practically shakes as it churns coffee from the spout, filling the air with the delicious smelling coffee pods. Spencer is grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, one with a jack-o'-lantern face on it and the other one had a cat in a pumpkin on it.

Recently, you had gone out to the store for Halloween decorations and other things you ‘needed’ which ended up with hundreds of receipts from Spirit Halloween, the local mall, and Target.

He's stirring in the vanilla half-and-half and sugar into the jack-o'-lantern cup, which was rightly decided to be his, and taps the metal spoon against the corner.

“Hey,” You emerge from the door for you and Spencer’s bedroom wearing a pair of his plaid pants and a tank-top. “Are you making coffee?” He turns to look at you and hands you your cup of coffee, with your preferences of milk and sugar in it.

You take a sip and close your eyes, before letting your feet take you to Spencer's warmth. His arms wrap around your lower back and tuck you in his arms. His kisses your forehead before saying, “Do you wanna go to the farmer's market today? Then we can get that coffee place you love.” You nod into his chest and pull away, giving him a peck against his lips.

Spencer pulls away to take another sip of his coffee. “I love the mugs, honey, very halloween-ey.” He compliments you and you laugh, holding your mug up to show it off to him.

“They were on sale! How could I ever skip up these adorable things?” You laugh again and Spencer picks up a book that was sitting on the counter and you follow him to the couch. You both sit down and cuddle up underneath the crocheted blanket.

The apartment wasn't very good at keeping in the warm air, but while underneath a blanket wrapped up in your boyfriend's arms were enough. “And yes, I wanna go to the farmer's market. We still haven't gotten pumpkins.”

Spencer kisses you again and you close your eyes. “I love you. Thank you for making coffee again. I'll do it tomorrow morning.” You're smiling at him, watching him read his new book he had got at the library.

Bzz. Bzz.

“No way they're calling you on your day off.” Spencer moans and picks up his phone, and nods at you when he reads the caller ID. “Well, bye sweetheart. I have to go shower, I'll see you when you get home.” You hug him, kiss his lips, and walk away. Inherently, you're upset about the fact you can't go to the farmers market even after you had already planned it. You were disappointed about the unexpected call, but it could always be another day.

[starsomens]

at this point imma just need an entire slowburn series about noah becoming a dad 🫠

YUUUHHHHH HERE IT IS i went a lil ham on this

finding out

Usually you're both careful with these things and sometimes you even take a morning after pill just to be sure. Although you've had times where you were reckless and nothing happened out of pure luck! so you have some pregnancy tests at home, obviously to clear things up if your period was late .

So it was actually late one night and Noah was just playing around with his guitar, making some tunes and you come in with some surprising news

"Hey sunshine" he smiles and puts the guitar down

"Hey so uh....I got something to share with you...something really shocking" you said sitting down on the bed

"From 1-10" he spun his chair to face you

"A 50....maybe more" you admit

"Hm, well lay it on me," he says coming over to sit with you on the bed

You pull out the pregnancy test and hand it to him "I uh....I'm pregnant" you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Your hands were shaking and you didn't know why you were so nervous.

"..baby wait. Y-you're serious?? You're pregnant?!" he asked taking the test and examining it. "Holy shit! What?!" he was way more excited than you thought he would be

"You..you're happy about-"

"Of course I am! I put a baby in you! You're gonna be a mom...I'm gonna be a...I'm gonna be a dad? Holy shit" he was

HE is so happy :)) he just holds you and kisses your face all over

"Oh my sunshine, you are just...ugh I don't know. I love you" he said as he kissed your lips "and I love you too" he said laying his hands on your stomach that still hasn't started growing

During

He's attached to your side FOR ANYTHING!

Morning sickness? Already has water ready for you, and even a light breakfast. Need someone to cuddle for you 5th nap of the day? He's got the softest blankets ready for you

He goes to your very first appointment and he can't stop jittering around. He's very excited for it all to unfold

He knew babies started tiny, but it was so tiny! Smaller than his pinky, he looked like a kid in a candy store. It was honestly so adorable

"Okay we need to start picking names, uh clothes! Uh things for the nursery, OH! I can get them lil ski masks to match with me!" he is so excited it made the experience so much better

he is VERY excited to tell the boys! But because of his line of work he had to tell them at one point or another. However I think he becomes very strict with you just so that the pregnancy goes smoothly

He waited for you to pass the 1st trimester to bring you with him one day to tell the boys about the news. Once you were all together you had Bryan secretly ready with his camera to capture reactions

"So before we tell you guys the news we got you all a little something" you hand a large bag to them and they reach inside to pull out shirts. They let them fall open and Jolly reads his out loud

"World's best Uncles" it took them a hot second to piece it together then Nick gasped

"NO FUCKING WAY! NO WAY! WHAT??" a chain reaction happened and they all caught on with wide eyes and large smiles. Bryan's camera shuttering in the background capturing the moment

They all hug and congratulate you both, they were all happy for you and super excited to be uncles to your lil baby on the way. So he had things set up with his team and gave your estimated delivery date because he wanted those days off and unavailable to be with you, including the first 3 months before being more active again

He would 100000% try and keep you out of the eye of the paparazzi or social platforms for your safety and privacy.

Now that you're entering your second trimester, your bump is starting to show and he LOVES IT!!! He takes pictures at the end of every week to document the growth. Now that you do have a visible bump his hands are always on it. he Just love to in some way be in contact with your bump.

He has a recording of their heartbeat on his phone, and yes he has put it into a song he has been working on! He love the heartbeat so much that he bought his own little machine to hear the heartbeat whenever you both wanted

Whenever you take naps his face is near your bump, telling them stories, humming songs and just having conversations with them

"And when I first saw mommy I was too scared to go and talk to her because she was so pretty, but now we're here waiting for you to come. You're gonna love her! MAybe not as much as me but you're going to love her!"

KISSES TO YOU TUMMY :)) whenever he has to step out, or in the morning or before bed he always gives you a kiss and your bump a kiss

Massages your body because he knows you get sore

He will always be the voice of reason when you tell him you're getting fat and he tells you there is a huge difference between fat and pregnant. And how even though you looked like "a fat marshmallow" you were still super sexy

Finding out the gender was very fun! Once you had the gender it was given to Nick and they got to plan it! It was a very small, very intimate gathering. Just the boys, some friends and family. When the time came they had planned something simple but , useful! they had bought a small wardrobe for the baby and inside all the items were either pink or blue.

On the count of 3 you and Noah undid the large bow holding the door together and slowly opened the doors

The wardrobe opened and the inside was a beautiful pastel pink!

Everyone cheered and Noah was ecstatic held you close

"We're having a girl! Oh god, we're having a girl Y/N!" he kissed your forehead "jesus I think I'm gonna cry" he chuckled as his eyes in fact welled up with tears

Looking inside the wardrobe he smiled at the adorable dress, jumpsuits, hoodies and plushies. He could feel his heart doing cartwheels in his chest.

The rest of the reveal was spent talking with everyone, getting best wishes and even some tips from some family. While Noah was speaking with his friends he looked over a you and just admired you. You smile, the way your hands sat on your bump, your baby bump that he now knew held your daughter

"...I told you he was far gone" he heard Folio

"Mhm, he's whipped"

"I am happily whipped for your information"

you now had just a month to get things in order and ready for your new arrival. Noah had the crib built and nursery ready, you packed an overnight bag for you both in case you had to stay at the hospital. Baby seat was installed and you even made prep meals together

"I don't think I ever thought I'd get this big" you said as you pocked at your bump

"baby that's good! Means our princess is growing healthy in there!"

"Thought I was your princess" you tease him

"You were, now you're my queen who's carrying the princess"

Loves to watch you waddle around the house and be stubborn on getting help when you need it

"...do you want me to-"

"No I got it!" you said struggling to reach something on the shelf. you used to reach just fine, but someone was currently in the way. You gave in and let him get it for you. he kissed your head and said

"Don't worry she's almost here"

After/birth

You had a birth plan and so far it was all going right! Labor started the night before your due date and you labored at home before heading for the hospital. You tried getting as much rest as you could

Now Noah? Noah was crying, screaming, smiling, throwing up, running, passing out....all in his head. But on the outside you don't know how he was staying so calm.

there are a lot of people who insisted that natural was the best way, but you honestly wanted a smooth and less stressful so you went for the epidural. You got there in time and your epidural was scheduled for later on.

Noah held your hand, walked around the room with you, massaged your back and was just your rock through the entire thing. He texted the guys to let them know their niece would be coming very soon.

"How you feeling sunshine?" "Do you need water?" "Should I call the nurse?" "Breath babe you got this"

Once you were clear for the epidural, things felt a lot lighter, the contractions were very mild and you felt like things were going a lot better than you anticipated

Once it was time to actually deliver you felt every emotion all at once. You were scared but excited, and happy but also nervous

"We're going to finally meet her!" he whisper yelled as he stood next to your and held your hand

"I know I'm....really nervous but happy!" you admit

"I know baby, but you got this, come on ready?"

The entire delivery took about an hour to an hour an half but you delivered a healthy baby girl. Strong lungs filled the room with cries. You cried, Noah cried you finally had your baby with you. She was here, laying on your chest, crying loudly

"strong lungs just like her daddy" you joke smiling at Noah

"You did so good sunshine" he kissed your head "She so beautiful, I couldn't ask for more"

After things had died down, you had fallen asleep after being tended to and your baby was fed. Noah took his advantage and had some skin to skin with her. She was so tiny compared to his much larger chest

His hand covered her completely, like a blanket and shielded her from the world. He never knew he could feel this type of love before. He loved you so deeply and now he is feeling that same love for this little baby that laid on his chest

"I love you princess. daddy loves you so so much"

he didn't notice you had woken up and taken pictures of him with the baby. That wallpaper was not going to be changed any time soon

He did make a post about it to his story with a picture of her tiny foot against his tattooed skin that read "welcome a new sebastian <3"

[giveafike]

The Best Christmas Yet - B.T.S

TLDR: Merry Christmas, to you and to Ben. This is a bonus of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! slightly suggestive towards the end but clean : )

Azzie Notes ✚: C'mon! You think I'd leave you on that note from yday? And without a Christmas gift? Pfftttt cmon now! srry if i sent u to bed pissed off yday bahahaha Santa told me that u deserve a little extra so..here we are! He delivered this post, not me

I know Christmas can be lonely at times and everyone's super duper busy, (me included, when this goes up, I am prob knee deep with work, being my parents' Patissier + sous chef + a childminder/nanny with the kids + cleaner...- GOD) so here's something to sink into <3

With that being said, I won't be posting for a small bit, just catching my breath before getting back into all the inbox reqs + I'll prob get into my other writing reqs, let's give Ben a break and time to relax before he gets thrown back in :)

Merry Christmas, have fun and be safe! sending u joy, love and peace :) - Azzie

————————————————————————

“Hey, get up.”

A hand nudged your shoulder, hesitantly but firm, and then you felt a poke to your cheek.

“Baby, c’mon, I need you up!”

A peck to your lips stirred you from the depths of sleep, and you groaned softly, burrowing further into the blankets. He was entirely too alert for such an ungodly hour.

“It's Christmas! Don’t make me drag you out of bed,” Ben teased, his voice low but insistent, laced with excitement.

You blinked your eyes open, humming in confusion the world still fuzzy at the edges. Ben’s face hovered over yours, the faint glow of the twinkle of Christmas lights from outside gleaming through the curtains, casting soft shadows across his features. He was already dressed, his dark hoodie pulled snugly over his body, curls surprisingly neat and tamed, and the brightness in his eyes completely at odds with the still, sleeping house around you.

“What time is it?...you’re ...like, too awake right now” you mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.

Ben laughed softly, crouching by your side. “Trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this. Get dressed, grab your presents, oh, and don’t forget my stuff. Y'got 10 minutes.”

“What are you even talking about-?” you started, but Ben was already pulling back the blanket, tossing you one of his spare hoodies onto the foot of the bed.

“No questions,” he interrupted, voice smiling but firm, pointing at the hoodie. “Up. Now. And quietly.”

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up, the chilly air of the house nipping at your skin and cementing that this wasn’t a dream, or if it was, this was a very realistic one, painfully realistic. The stillness was too real, the kind of quiet that could only exist when the world was still deep in slumber. Groggily, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cold floor beneath your feet.

As you tugged on the hoodie and shuffled to grab your gifts from the paper bags you hid away in his wardrobe, the faint hum of the central heater became your only companion. You picked up the neatly wrapped presents you’d gotten for Ben, stacked in a bag alongside a few smaller ones for Lisa, Bryan, and Emma. The ones for his family were quietly tucked under the Christmas tree as Ben instructed as you passed through the dimly lit living room.

The sight of the living room warmed you, even in your grogginess. Air mattresses sprawled across the floor, the family nestled under thick blankets and quilts on the far side, away from the tree. The faint glow of coloured lights danced off the walls from outside, highlighting the care that went into decorating the house.

Ben’s hand found yours as you found him back in the hallway, his grip warm and steady as he led you toward the front door. You glanced back at the sleeping family, a flicker of hesitation in your mind.

“Ben…” you whispered, casting him a questioning look when he opened the front door, ushering you out into the chilly early morning air.

He turned back to you with a grin, tugging you gently outside. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”

The world outside was quiet and dark, the air crisp and laced with the scent of crispness that only a breeze could carry. His white G-Wagon idled in the driveway, already heated, the soft rumble of the engine breaking the silence of the dawn. You gently set your presents for Ben down in the backseat which sat beside a neatly packed bag that definitely wasn’t yours. Ben opened the passenger door, guiding you in with a hand on your back.

“What is all this, Ben? What's goin' on?” you asked, twisting to look at the suspiciously full back seat.

“You’ll see, just hold tight for a bit longer, m'kay?” he pleaded, sliding his hand over yours on the console.

The drive was peaceful, the world outside still dark as Ben navigated quiet roads. His thumb rubbed lazy circles over your knuckles as he drove, occasionally lifting your hand to kiss it, all mixing into your drowsy state, amplifying it.

“Sleep if you want,” he murmured, almost as if he read your mind.

Despite your scepticism on this last-minute rendezvous, your sleep-heavy mind couldn’t keep up with his giddy energy. With the soft purr of the engine beneath you and the rhythmic movement of the road lulling you into this half-sleep you found it harder and harder to fight against. The heated seat didn’t help. Neither did Ben’s low hum as he tapped the steering wheel while thumbing circles like a massage over your skin, every so often glancing at you with a look that screamed he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wherever he was taking you, you knew it had to be worth it. You could still feel the warmth of the house on your skin, the chilled morning air battling the heat already building inside the car.

“Just relax, babe,” he laughed softly, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

You didn’t intend to fall asleep, but the next thing you knew, the car slowed to a stop, the engine idling quietly as the faint sound of waves lapping at the shore reached your ears.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice was soft as he brushed your hair back, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’re here.”

You blinked blearily, looking out the window to see the dark silhouette of the ocean stretching into the horizon, the faint light of dawn beginning to break on the edges. The air smelled salty and fresh, completely different from the Christmas scents of cinnamon and pine you’d left behind.

“The beach?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.

Ben grinned, shifting in his seat to face you fully. “Not just the beach. Look out your window.”

That’s when you see it.

You noticed the cozy little beach house, its soft lights glowing warmly against the backdrop of the dark waves. A Christmas wreath hung on the door, and through the large windows, you could see the flicker of a Christmas tree and decorations inside.

“Ben…” you trailed off, your voice catching in your throat as you turned to him.

His grin widened as he reached for the packed bags in the back. “Merry Christmas, baby. This is all ours for the day. Just you and me.”

Your eyes widened. “Ben, wait… Does your family know? What about the rest of Christmas-”

“They know,” he interrupted chuckling like a kid, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek to calm your spiralling thoughts. “They’re all in on it. That’s why we did Christmas Eve so big yesterday. Mom even helped me set this up.”

The realisation hit you like a wave, and all the little moments over the past week clicked into place, the way Lisa had brushed off his odd behaviour, the quick glances between him and Emma, even Bryan’s playful teasing.

“You planned all this?” you whispered, still trying to wrap your head around it while you woke up.

Ben nodded, his eyes soft as he looked at you. “You deserved something special. You’re always thinking about everyone else, making sure they’re happy, fittin' in for our traditions and family. I wanted this to just be for us.”

You couldn’t say anything. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He held you tightly, his hands warm against your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled into his shoulder, the tiniest smile tugging at your lips.

“Maybe,” he murmured back. “But you love it.”

You pulled away just enough to look at him, your nose brushing his before you pressed your lips to his. “I really do.”

Ben grinned against your mouth before pulling back and nodding toward the house. “C’mon, let’s get inside. Santa apparently dropped something off for us.”

Ben hopped out of the car with a bounce in his step, grabbing the bags from the backseat before coming around to your side. He opened your door with an exaggerated bow, motioning for you to step out.

“After you, Mrs. Claus,” he teased with a wink.

“Not funny,” you mumbled, still not entirely awake but following his lead.

The soft crunch of sand under your shoes mixed with the rhythmic sound of the waves, the faint golden light of the rising sun beginning to spread across the horizon. Ben unlocked the front door with a set of keys he’d clearly had ready, and as he pushed it open, a wave of warmth hit you immediately.

Inside, the beach house was something out of a Floridian winter wonderland fever dream. A towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner of the open-plan living room, its branches heavy with warm white lights, delicate glass ornaments, and strands of ribbon that shimmered in the soft glow. Garlands of greenery were draped over the fireplace mantle, complete with stockings embroidered with reindeer. The massive hard-topped kitchen island sat proudly in the shared kitchen-living room space. The wooden beams overhead gave the space a cozy, cabin-like feel, a stark contrast to the sandy shores just steps away outside.

“Wow…” you breathed, taking it all in.

“Thought you’d like it,” Ben said, setting the bags down near the couch.

Your gaze drifted to the couch, where a set of red-and-white Christmas pyjamas were neatly laid out. They were embroidered in gold stitching: “Mr. Claus” and “Mrs. Claus.”

You shot him a look, mock disgusted holding up the “Mrs. Claus” set. “Oh, so that's why you said that earlier...really, Ben?”

He shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “No idea what you're talking about. Santa must’ve been here early.”

You shook your head, but a laugh bubbled out anyway as you grabbed the pyjamas. “You’re something else.”

“Something you love,” he corrected, grinning as he grabbed his set and disappeared down the hallway to change.

Once you were dressed, you stepped back into the living room to find Ben waiting by the tree. He looked ridiculously good, the festive pyjamas fitting tight and snug over his broad shoulders and long frame.

You let yourself melt into his embrace, your cheek resting against his chest as the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon filling the air. His arms tightened around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his lips grazing your temple.

“For… all of this. You didn’t have to do it.”

Ben leaned back just enough to tilt your chin up, his brown eyes meeting yours. “Of course I did. How could I not? You’ve done nothing but make this year the best of my life, and this whole month has just been me falling in love with you all over again. I wanted to give you something special in return.”

Emotion tightened in your chest, and instead of responding, you leaned up to kiss him. It was slow and unhurried, the kind of kiss that felt like sealing a promise.

When you finally pulled back, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his. “I really don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Ben said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek before he pulled you back into his arms, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

After a moment, he gently nudged you toward the couch. “C’mon, let’s get these gifts out and under the tree.”

You smiled, setting down the gifts you’d brought for him under the tree, neatly stacking the carefully wrapped packages and bags. Ben joined you, unloading his own pile, which looked suspiciously extravagant.

“Are those all for me?” you asked, eyeing the growing stack with amusement. His weren't the most neatest, but in fairness, they were oddly shaped and done with love.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, but first, let's get breakfast, hm?” he said, nudging your side playfully.

With the tree glowing warmly beside you and Ben at your side, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

You quirked an eyebrow, sinking into the plush couch as you pulled a blanket over your lap. “You cook now?”

He shot you a faux-offended look, grabbing a spatula from the utensil holder on the counter and spinning it dramatically like a tennis racket.

“First of all, rude. Second, I’ve been practising. So buckle up, baby, this is gonna be five-star dining.” Ben clapped his hands together as he stood, stretching his arms above his head, rolling his neck dramatically like he was back on court.

You laughed, resting your head on the sofa's arm as you watched him bustle around the kitchen. The open floor plan allowed you to see everything, Ben digging through the cabinets, pulling out pans, eggs, and a loaf of crusty bread. He moved with purpose, humming under his breath as he worked, occasionally throwing a smug glance your way as if to say, See? Totally got this.

The warm smell of cinnamon and butter soon wafted through the air, mingling with the faint salty breeze that slipped in from the crack he’d left in the balcony door. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise in earnest, golden light spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting the space in a soft, dreamy glow.

“French toast?” you guessed, eyeing the griddle where slices of bread sizzled to perfection.

“French toast,” Ben confirmed with a wink. “And bacon. Because, y’know, balance.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the last bits of morning grogginess melt away. Leaning back, you turned around and let your gaze drift to the ocean visible through the windows. The waves rolled lazily onto the shore, their rhythmic crashes blending with the quiet clatter of Ben moving around the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he appeared beside you, holding a plate piled high with perfectly golden French toast, a generous drizzle of syrup glistening on top, and crispy strips of bacon on the side. “For you, my dear,” he said, bowing dramatically as he handed it over.

“Why, thank you, Chef Shelton,” you teased, accepting the plate with a grin.

He returned with his own plate and settled beside you, the couch dipping under his weight as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

“Might as well enjoy breakfast with the best view,” he murmured, nodding toward the windows.

You both dug in, the first bite of the warm, sweet French toast melting in your mouth. “Okay,” you admitted, pointing your fork at him. “This is actually really good.”

Ben smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Man, I told you! I’ve been perfecting my craft.”

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a while, the rising sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The light reflected off the water, casting shimmering patterns across the walls of the beach house.

At one point, Ben reached over, his fingers brushing against yours as he stole a piece of bacon from your plate. “Hey!” you protested, laughing as you swatted at his hand.

He grinned, unabashed, chewing triumphantly. “What’s yours is mine, remember?”

“Except for food,” you shot back, but your mock irritation was betrayed by the smile tugging at your lips.

As the conversation lowered and plates set down, Ben wiped his hands on a napkin before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You look beautiful, y’know that?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Ben, I’m literally in pyjamas. My hair’s a mess. I look like I just woke up-”

“And yet,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere, “still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. By far.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you looked down at your plate, a soft smile curling your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

He reached over, gently tilting your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “And you’re unforgettable.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy line, but the flutter in your chest betrayed how much it melted you. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Ben laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips before settling back with his plate. “Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

As the last of the French toast disappeared and the sun fully crested the horizon, you leaned into Ben’s side, his arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. The warmth of the morning, the salty breeze, and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel like you were in your own little world.

But of course, it wasn't long until Ben had grown jittery while eyeing the wrapped presents under the tree. You both sat on the wooden floors, smiling as you gathered the presents together.

Ben shifted, reaching for a small, neatly wrapped box from the pile beneath the tree. “Alright,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he handed it to you. “Ladies first.”

You took the gift, your fingers brushing over the smooth wrapping paper, the tag reading your name in Ben’s slightly messy handwriting.

You raised an eyebrow at his boyish gummy grin as you glanced between him and the box. “What’s with the smug look? Is this one of those gag gifts that’s gonna explode confetti or something?”

“Guess you’ll have to open it and see,” he teased, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed, watching you with barely contained excitement.

Peeling the paper back carefully, you revealed a high-end leather handbag, sleek and elegant in design, with subtle gold hardware, its rich, buttery material practically glowing in the soft light of the tree. Your jaw dropped as you ran your fingers over it, the quality undeniable.

“Ben…” you trailed off, lifting the bag to inspect it. “This is stunning. It’s too much.”

“Nothing’s too much for you,” he said simply, his voice softer now.

You set the bag aside carefully, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. I love it- I love you."

“My turn,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up as you reached for one of the boxes you’d wrapped for him.

Ben tore into the wrapping paper like a kid on Christmas morning, which, technically, he was. He pulled out the McLaren Lego kit, his face lighting up as he turned the box over in his hands.

“No way! You actually got it!” he exclaimed, holding it up like it was a trophy. “I’ve been eyeing this forever, man! You are the best!”

“Figured it’d keep you busy when you’re bored,” you teased.

“Nah, I’m building this today,” he declared, setting it aside carefully.

You smiled, watching the joy on his face as he set the box aside. “Figured it’d keep you busy on those days off you pretend you don’t need.”

He shot you a look, mock offended but still grinning. “Careful, or I’ll make you help me build it.”

“I’d be honoured,” you teased, reaching for another gift he’d picked for you.

This time, it was a plush teddy bear, soft and fluffy, with a small ribbon tied around its neck. As you pulled it close, the faint, familiar scent of Ben’s cologne wafted up, wrapping you in comfort.

“You sprayed it with your cologne?” you asked, laughing softly, sniffing it as you hugged it to your chest.

Ben shrugged, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. “Figured it’d keep you company when I’m not around. Plus, he's the only one I'm approving to cuddle you when I'm on tour.”

You shook your head, grinning as you kissed the bear’s head, before kissing Ben's. “It’s adorable. Thank you.”

The two of you continued taking turns, the room filling with laughter and quiet gasps of surprise. You got him new headphones, one that came with tracking so he couldn't lose them, though you knew he'd find some way of making that happen. You also got him a box of different snacks and sweets, all his favourites from his time touring abroad or ones he meant to try but couldn't for one reason or another.

When you handed him the velvet pouch containing the custom silver keychain you bought at the Christmas market, his brow furrowed curiously.

"This one’s… special.” You handed him a velvet pouch, watching as he untied the drawstring and pulled out the custom car keychain.

He pulled it out, his eyes widening as he read the Roman numerals of your anniversary engraved on the sleek metal.

“Woah…” Ben murmured, turning the keychain over in his hands. The Roman numerals gleamed softly in the light of the Christmas tree, and his thumb brushed over the engraving as if committing it to memory.

“They’re the Roman numerals for our anniversary,” you said quietly, watching his reaction.

“This is incredible. I’m putting this on my keys the second we’re done here.”

Ben’s smile was slow but brilliant, and he reached over to pull you into a hug. Before you could respond, Ben looked over the metal again, then sprang to his feet, excitement bubbling over. “Nah, I’m putting this on my keys right now. Hold up!”

He darted toward the hallway, his socked feet slipping slightly on the polished wooden floors. You couldn’t help but laugh as he caught himself on the doorframe, looking back at you with a sheepish grin.

“I meant to do that,” he called back, laughing at his own clumsiness.

“Sure you did,” you teased, shaking your head as you watched him disappear into the other room.

A moment later, he was back, his keys jingling triumphantly in his hand. He slid the keychain onto the ring, holding it up to admire it before stuffing the whole thing into his pocket.

“There,” he said, flopping back down beside you with a satisfied grin. “Now it’s official.”

You smiled, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. “I'm almost getting jealous of that car.”

“I don't kiss my car,” he quipped, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer.

"Mm, not yet." You smiled, handing him the velvet box. His fingers brushed over the soft velvet before he pulled out the custom silver ring. His initials sat on one side, yours on the other, a simple but meaningful design that made his eyes glisten.

“You didn’t have to…” he started, his voice soft with emotion.

“I wanted to,” you interrupted gently. “Something just for you.”

Ben slipped the ring onto his finger, flexing his hand as if to test the fit.

“You really thought of everything,” he said softly, slipping the ring onto his finger and holding it up to admire. “This is perfect.”

Ben stared at the silver ring, a teasing smirk curling his lips as he wiggled his fingers. “Y’know, giving a guy a ring this nice but… people might start talking,” he quipped, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Shouldn't you be down on one knee right now, or…?”

Your laughter bubbled out before you could stop it, the warmth of the moment loosening your nerves. “Oh, don’t even start,” you shot back, shaking your head.

Ben grinned wider, leaning closer to nudge your shoulder with his. “What? I’m just saying, you’ve got the whole package ready, like we're in matching pjs and you got me a custom ring… Feels kinda like a proposal if you ask me.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I should’ve gotten a little speech ready while I was at it,” you countered, trying to hold back your smile.

Ben laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Alright, alright, I’ll back off,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, this means a lot. You didn’t have to go this far. I'm gonna be wearin' this everywhere, showin' everyone what my girl got me.”

“It’s not just a gift, it’s a reminder. Wherever you go, you’ve got a piece of us with you.”

Ben’s expression softened, and he reached out to cradle your face in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, babe,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you gently.

“Good,” you teased, pulling back just enough to nudge his nose with yours.

Ben chuckled, slipping the ring back on and holding it up like he was admiring a priceless artefact. “Alright, your turn,” he said, nudging the next box toward you with a grin. “Let’s see if I can top this.”

Now that it was your turn again, Ben handed you a small, flat box.

Inside was a stack of many, many postcards, each one from a place he’d travelled to. Turning them over, you found messages written on the back of each short, heartfelt message that ranged from funny memories to sweet sentiments about missing you over the duration of the tour.

You picked one at random, noticing Ben’s handwriting on the back, dated from his trip to Paris for the Paris Masters. On the back, he’d written, ‘I missed you so much while I was here. Beat Moutet today, was exhausting though. The Eiffel Tower was pretty, but not as beautiful as you. I can’t wait for us to visit together someday. Thinking of you, like always - your Ben. 29th October 2024.’

Your throat tightened as you read it, picking up another, each postcard a snapshot of his travels and his thoughts of you and a recap of his day.

“Ben…” Your voice wavered as you blinked back the sudden sting of tears.

“I thought… you know, since I can’t always bring you with me, this might be the next best thing...show you 'm always thinkin' of you..,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you so damn much,” you whispered, kissing him softly.

The last gift from him was a music box, its sleek wooden exterior engraved with delicate designs. When you opened it, a soft, familiar melody filled the room, your song, the one that played on loop the night of your first date together, the one that followed you around on dates, whenever you thought of him, when he asked you to be his.

The song that holds you while he's away, swirling you in memories and warmth.

You couldn’t speak, the lump in your throat too heavy, so you simply leaned into him, letting the music wash over you both as he held you close while tears spilt.

“Best Christmas ever?” he murmured against your temple, his arms wrapped securely around you.

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Easily. Thank you. For all of this. For everything.”

Ben grinned, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Good. ‘Cause it’s only getting better, every year we spend together. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

The day melted into an easy rhythm, filled with shared smiles, easy conversation and soft laughter. Ben slid onto the couch beside you with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, the faint aroma of chocolate and cinnamon wafting through the air. Tiny marshmallows floated on the surface, slowly melting into sugary perfection.

He handed you a mug before settling in, his arm naturally curling around your shoulders. You nestled into his side, your legs draped lazily over his lap as the opening scenes of Home Alone flickered across the screen.

Ben's fingers found your knee, tracing lazy, absentminded circles as Kevin's antics brought out bouts of laughter from both of you. The sound of his laugh, deep and warm, made your heartache in the best way. You couldn’t help stealing glances at him, at the way the soft light of the TV played against his features, highlighting the curve of his smile.

As the afternoon slipped away and the golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky, Ben stretched, the movement causing you to shift slightly against him. He leaned back, his head tilting toward you with a familiar, mischievous glint in his eye.

“You know,” he started, his tone playful but laced with something deeper, “I think I still haven’t unwrapped the best gift.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you caught the suggestive lilt in his voice. “Oh?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Ben’s grin spread wider, the kind that sent a thrill straight through you. “Yeah. Pretty sure it’s sitting right next to me,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours.

Heat crept up your neck, and you couldn’t hold back the shy giggle bubbling from your lips. “You’re terrible,” you murmured, unable to resist the teasing spark between you.

“Terrible?” he echoed, mock offended as his free hand slid to rest on your waist. “I think you mean charming.”

The air between you seemed to hum, charged with the promise of more as his thumb traced a slow, deliberate pattern over your hip.

“Mm, that's debatable,” you replied, your voice quieter now, the space between you shrinking.

Ben laughed softly, his lips grazing your temple before lingering near your ear. “Yeah? Let's change your mind then. I've been waitin' to have you all alone...” he whispered, the words full of warmth and something unspoken.

And in that moment, with the soft glow of the screen and the ocean waves whispering beyond the windows, the rest of the world fell away. Everything felt simple and complete, wrapped in the quiet kind of love that made the memory of this Christmas one you’d carry forever.

[trashmouth-richie]

nothing kills you slower than, letting someone go

Eddie x Fem!Reader ; Steve x Fem!Reader

W.C 6k [whoops]

A/N: I’ve had this floating around my brain for weeks, based loosely on the song “Letting Someone Go” by Zach Bryan

TW: underage drinking/ drug use, drug addiction, driving while drinking, mean!Eddie.

💋💋

Searching your bag for the soft pack of cigarettes, you push your way through the heavy metal door leading to the back of Hawkins High.

You needed a cigarette and right the fuck now. This stupid fucking town, stupid fucking people at this asshole school—you had had enough. The heat of the day was at its peak as you made it over to the corner behind the wood shop. Heavily graffitied and coated in butts and ashes, this had been your secret smoke spot for the past few weeks. It wasn’t a picnic bench in the woods where he had brought you years ago, no this spot was yours, since you had broken up last month you had to find more than a few different things to make your own.

You didn’t frequent the Hideout on Tuesday’s anymore; he made sure of that. You dropped out of Hellfire, giving away your dice to Dustin and Mike as a parting gift; the trailer park you had spent so much time in was now filled with the ghosts of memories, and any time you had bumped into Wayne at the grocery store or pumping gas, you smiled shyly and waved. Wondering if Eddie ever told him why you weren’t around anymore. Why you didn’t surprise them anymore on Saturday mornings with almost stale, day old donuts.

This wasn’t a typical breakup, he didn’t have a new girlfriend and you didn’t have a new boyfriend. Eddie had been pushing you away for weeks, unthreaded the strings of your hearts from one another and drifted apart. It wasn’t easy seeing him around school, interacting with your mutual friends who were now only his friends, waving in the hallways to you as a sort of pity, eyes casted downward when they were with him, loyal to their DM.

The sting of the breakup and the events that unfolded that night were still fresh in your mind. The way the rain fell as you fought with him in front of his trailer, both drenched to the core, his curls lengthening from the heaviness of the rain, chin quivering, shoulders sagged. The pitter sound of the drops of rain hitting his leather clad arms. Seeping through the crooks of his rings, threatening to let them slip off his fingers, wetting the tape used to make them a bit smaller.

Exhaling a line of smoke through your mouth you shudder at the memory. You didn’t want to think about that night or even him. Long legs and baggy jeans stroll beside you, you know it’s her before she even says anything, passing her the cigarette you chuckle when her blue fingernails swing down to take it out of your hands.

“I swear Ms. O’Donnell has a stick up her ass.” Robin explains, “I hope her car breaks down on her way home tonight.” She huffs and throws her back against the brick, one foot folded upwards pressed against the wall.

“She does,” you blow a cloud of smoke from your nose, “it’s sideways.”

Robin snorts, smoke escaping her lips as she exhales, “So are we going to Steve’s party tonight or are you going to bail, again?”

Your response comes slower than you had hoped, you really didn’t want to see him there. Usually avoiding any opportunity you could have of running into him.

“It’s been a month,” Robin says softly, treading lightly on the sore subject hoping not to break the ice of your fragile sanity, “besides, he probably won’t even be there.” She was right, he didn’t hangout with that crowd. The hellfire boys wouldn’t be there so why would he?

“I know… I just— if I see him with someone else it would actually kill me.” Robin knows you better than anyone, she knows how hard it has been for you. Moving through the motions of these last few weeks as if they were on film and you were just a bystander. “Three years is a long time to have it just end over an argument.” The first few days of your breakup it was rumored that he was fooling around with Chrissy Cunningham. The thought of that alone was enough to get you to miss school for a week straight. Refusing to leave your bed, holed up around your sheets like a baby being swaddled. The pain was too much. Robin had stopped by multiple times and assured you it wasn’t true. But the idea of him moving on so quickly, hurt.

“It is—you’re right.” Robin says, turning to you resting her head on the wall, “And you have every right to be upset. What he did—I’m still mad at him for the way he treated you in the end.”

“Join the club,” you mutter, wiping a stray hair behind your ear flicking ashes into the wind.

“So why not just get out and have a good time, maybe you’ll meet someone?” Her lips twist into a shit eating grin. You give her a look as if to say, ‘spit it out’, lowering your eyes to her, eyebrows raised. That’s what you loved about Robin, her emotions were worn on her sleeve and she couldn’t hide anything from you, “Okay fine! I’m like 96% sure that Steve has a crush on you, and if you were to tell him that I would deny everything so don’t even try it.”

A year ago, you wouldn’t have hung out with Steve Harrington, but since you and Robin started working with him at Scoops a few months ago, you had all gotten close. The past month you had become a recluse, only agreeing to go to places that you 100% knew Eddie wouldn’t be. Robin was the one who plucked you from your decaying shell, forcing you out into the sun, watering you like a flower watching you blossom.

Maybe getting out there and even putting on a fake smile would work. Maybe bring some happiness back into your life. “Fine, but I’m not drinking that witch's brew shit Vicky makes.”

The party was like any other one at Steve’s. Music flooded the streets, the thumping of REO Speedwagon could be heard from blocks away. Cars lined every square inch of the driveway, and the surrounding side streets. Beer cans were littered in the front yard, a very drunk Jonathan Byers was laying in the cool grass, taking pictures of the sky, red cups surrounding him and puke starting to dry on his denim jacket.

Having taken a few shots at Robin’s house while getting ready, you were already feeling yourself relax a bit as you entered the Harrington house. Steve was wearing sunglasses inside, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as his hair moved with the music. Surrounded by people taking long pulls from their cheap beers dancing along to the latest hits.

“Robin, Y/N!” Steve yelled above the crowd. He raises his arms above his head and begins making his way towards you through the maze of drunk underage teens. He sweeps you into a hug, pulling you in close and grinning into your hair, “you made it!”

“There were terms to her coming here ya know,” Robin stated, lifting a beer from a freshman’s hand and claiming it as her own, “no dancing, no drinks made by Vicky and no Eddie Munson lurking around.” A quick glance around calms your nerves seeing that Eddie wasn’t here, the tension in your shoulders subsiding.

“No dancing?” Steve presses, a look of fake shock on his face, “I was just going to put ‘Thriller’ on!” The three of you laugh as you look around the living room. People are packed into every corner, some making out, others swaying like bowling pins after an almost strike— trying like hell to not fall over. “Hey dickwad, put that down!” Steve rushes over to a guy in your grade and as attempting to put a lampshade on his head.

“Just give him a chance,” Robin whispers in your ear, “I’m telling you he’s got it bad, just nervous about if you still have feelings for Eddie.”

You did. You wouldn’t deny that. But those feelings weren’t reciprocated. Not anymore. He had made that clear the night he broke it off. Saying he was going to be too busy for a relationship, that you needed to move on from him, find someone else. He was leaving Hawkins and not returning.

Steve returned with the lampshade, setting it down in the corner as he grabs your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles softly with the pads of his thumbs. “And as for Munson? He won’t be here, I promise.” A smile breaks on his face as he pushes his sunglasses into his hair. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

The kitchen is oozing with the smell of spilt beer and strong liquor. The countertops are sticky like candy—a half assed attempt of cleaning has napkins stuck to them like cement. People are crowded around the kitchen island concocting mixed drinks of pop and various liquors, a game of tippy cup is being played in the dining room. “Pick your poison,” Steve says above the crowd, gesturing to the array of drinks on the counter.

“Personally, I wouldn’t touch the punch, Vicky emptied more than half of the liquor cabinet into it. Byers had about three cups and hasn’t been seen since.”

You laugh and a grin spreads across Steve’s face, “we saw him on the way in actually, he’s laying in the front yard, taking pictures of the sky.” You grab a beer off the counter, cracking it open, suds surrounding the aluminum top of the can you slurp them up and tilt it back into your mouth the iced pale ale flowing down your throat like a wheat river. Steve’s eyes haven’t left you since you got here.

“That looks good on you,” he says, taking a sip of his own beer, brown honeyed eyes pouring into yours.

You give him a confused glance, “the beer?”

He laughs and gestures to your lips, “a smile.” Your cheeks heat with a blush, you weren’t good with flirting. You and Eddie had only gotten together because you spun the bottle in his direction that summer night between 8th grade and Freshman year in Namcy Wheeler basements. Steve holds your elbow and looks at you through his lashes. Of course he was good looking, he was tall, hair always perfectly positioned, strong facial features and those dreamy honey eyes could make anyone fall for him. You smile shyly at him and take another sip of your beer. “Wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see it again,” he whispers into your ear, pulling back closer than he was before.

Steve had known the ins and outs of your breakup just like Robin had. You had spent countless nights sitting on the floor of Scoops sampling the flavors while you delved out the inner workings of why Eddie did what he did. You were heart broken, no other way to say it. And it had hurt Steve to see you so low. You had done your best to avoid Eddie entirely, and Steve would do anything to try to help.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, looking down at your shoes and back up to Steve, “I wasn’t sure either.” Maybe it would be easier to get over Eddie if you just moved on from him, finding comfort in someone else, even if just for a night.

“I, uh— can’t believe he’d be that stupid.” Steve says, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Your brows knit slightly together as Steve continues moving a strand of hair from your face, “Eddie I mean. Cause if you were mine, I would never let you go.”

A shy smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you look up at Steve. Those nights at Scoops had made you all closer, the three of you spilling your guts about relationships gone bad, secret hookups, etc. Not in any of those nights did you put together that Steve liked you more than a friend. Usually you were too busy daydreaming about a time where Eddie was still yours, still the sweet Eddie you had known and fallen in love with. Now he would hold his head high above yours in the hallways, never even glancing your way. You search your mind trying to remember if Steve talked about any girls during that time but you can’t think of any.

“Oh come on Steve, you don’t mean that,” you shake your head, Steve gently placed a finger under your chin positioning your face towards his.

“I mean it,” he says sternly with a hint of softness, “I care about you, a lot.” His eyes show sadness, your stomach flutters at his words. Maybe it’s the alcohol making this easy for you, or maybe it’s the way he’s staring so deep into your soul your whole body is tingling, but you feel safe with Steve. You can’t help yourself when you lean into him, licking your lips slightly and closing your eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why the hell are you making me do this?” Eddie huffs as he jumps out of the van and stomps up the sidewalk to Steve Harrington’s house.

“You’re the one who kept saying you were bored,” Dustin says, “listen I know you’ve never hung out with Steve before, but once you do you’ll see he’s a pretty cool guy.” A mouthful of braces smiles up at him.

Hellfire had ended early since none of the boys could defeat Eddie’s sadistic campaign. They were out of Doritos and Family Video didn’t have any new releases this week. “Yeah I doubt that,” Eddie scowled. He was finding it more and more difficult to be happy this last month. He thought breaking up would push him in the right direction of where he wanted to go, leaving Hawkins for good after graduation, getting a record deal, maybe. But so far all he had was one more failing grade before he was held back, again. He was annoyed beyond belief, hating himself for being so naive.

Agreeing to go with Dustin so he wouldn’t get himself into trouble, Eddie walks faster to the party, his Reeboks squeaking beneath him. Dustin makes it to the door first, “should I take my shoes off or should I leave them on? There aren’t any shoes here, are they somewhere else?”

Eddie chuckles at his younger friend, “keep ‘em on, easier to run if the cops come,” he says, eyes wide to scare Dustin.

“Come on man, don’t say that.” Dustin says, following Eddie as he made his way up the steps to the split level home. Maybe a few beers would help his mood. Not fair to Dustin that he has such a shitty attitude lately, the kid worships Steve so he could hangout for a bit, drink a few beers and then go home. Landing on the top step peering into the kitchen, Eddie stops dead.

Watching your lips move with Steve’s has Eddie feeling sick to his stomach. He’s convinced his heart stops beating. Blood rushing to his cheeks, this shouldn’t hurt the way it does. He had been the one to end it, the one who shoved you away. But you looked so happy with Steve. “Oh shit,” Dustin says behind Eddie’s shoulder, “uhh.. drinks? We need drinks!” Dustin pushes Eddie forward through the kitchen and out to the patio, finding the kegs, he pours two of the worlds foamiest beers and thrusts them into Eddie’s hands. “Here,” he says, raising Eddie’s hand to his mouth to get him to drink, “swear to God that’s not at all what I— ”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie says, slamming the beer and refilling it, foamy suds running down his chin, “I’m fine Dustin, really.” His eyes were dark with anger, rubbing his jaw with the heel of his hand he walks back inside the kitchen and grabs the closest bottles of whiskey he can find— noticing you and Steve are now gone— and waltzes back out. Throwing himself into a lawn chair and pressing his lips to the open bottle, stewing in his own misfortunes.

This was his fault, he broke up with you for no particular reason other than his own stupid ideas. You were each other's first kiss, first time, first everything. Of course he wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone else, feel a body that wasn’t yours. But he had always considered you to be his. Seeing you lip locked with Steve was worse than a punch to the gut. Pull after pull on the bottle of whiskey, Eddie’s eyes got darker, he slumped further into the seat. He had no idea what Dustin had even been saying. The only thing he could focus on was you.

The way your hair smelled like coconuts when you were cuddled up against his chest, wearing his shirt when you slept over. You were his everything back then, he didn’t just love you he admired you, worshipped the ground you walked on. He had been regretting the breakup since it happened, but couldn’t find the heart to tell you that. He saw the way you cowered away from him at school, changing your schedule to avoid any contact at all with him, your locker used to be next to his now it was empty. He fucked up bad, but all he was trying to do was save you.

He stands up, his tall figure swaying slightly with the help of inebriation. He stumbled into the sliding door, face pressed flush with the glass, scanning the kitchen. You still weren’t in sight, but Robin was.

Throwing the door open a little harder than it should have been, it bounces slightly at the force. Eddie climbs in all legs first, “Robin! Robin!” Eddie yells above the crowd, maneuvering around drunk teens.

“Eddie,” Robin spins on her heel, a glare to her blue eyes, “you look— like shit.”

“Aww,” Eddie scoffs, “thought I was your favorite.” He takes a big swig from the whiskey, too drunk to even taste the amber liquid sliding down his throat, the burn barely there.

“You were, until you hurt my best friend, and became a giant dick.”

“Well now that just hurt my feelings Robby.”

“What’s the game here Munson, Vicky’s waiting.”

Swaying more than he would have liked and holding onto the kitchen island Eddie lets his guard down, “where is she?”

“Listen, you weren’t there. You didn’t see the way she trapped herself in her room for a week after you broke her heart. She’s trying to get over you— you can’t just pretend like you’re still her boyfriend.” Robin lights a cigarette and blows smoke directly in Eddie’s face.

“I just wanna talk to her. Tell her congrats, I’m sure she’s happy with the upgrade from Prince of the Trailer Park to King of Hawkins thassall.” He says with a shrug of his broad shoulders, leather creaking with his movements.

“I mean it— leave her alone, you already did it once, shouldn’t be too hard the second time.” Robin ashes her cigarette into a discarded cup and saunters off to find Vicky.

Eddie takes another swig, rolling the liquor around his teeth, before swallowing when he hears it. Your laugh coming from the living room. Long legs moving like he’s on ice skates with the help of the walls bearing the brunt of his body weight, he enters the living room with a frown. You're sitting on Steve’s lap, his face is nuzzled into your hair the same way Eddie’s used to when he surprised you by your lockers. You haven’t noticed him yet. Your eyes are pinched shut and you’re laughing at the way Steve’s fingers dip into your sides tickling you.

Always one for theatrics, Eddie starts to clap.

Steve’s lips are like silk, smooth and warm against yours, the taste of beer mixed with carmex on the tip of your tongue as you drag it across his bottom lip. His hands move into your hair, holding you closer to him as he slots his mouth against yours. Kissing Steve comes naturally, as if you have done this before. For the first time in weeks you feel at peace with the breakup. You hear the sliding door open and close as Steve deepens the kiss, moving his head in a slant to paint your mouth with his tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and a smidge of cigarettes and mint gum. You pull back from him, “whoa.”

“Shit, I’m sorry— just you were leaning in and I thought you wanted me to kiss you—fuck I just messed this up didn’t I?” Steve pushes his fingers into the inner corners of his eyes, you pull his hand away looking confused.

“No,” you giggle, holding Steve’s hand in yours, the other pressed against his chest. “It was good, great even— I haven’t felt like that in weeks,” you admit to him, “don’t apologize.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he brings you into a hug, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his large hands around your back, moving them across your shoulders as he ushers you to the living room where Robin and Vicky are dancing. Steve pulls you into the couch with him, whispering into your ear about how pretty you are, how long he has been waiting until you were ready to say anything. The sweet gestures make you blush again and again. When he asks to take you out for a date tomorrow night you tease him.

“I think I’m busy, yeah definitely busy.” A sheepish grin lands on your face and Steve’s face goes from concerned to mocking mad as he tickles your sides you squeal and use his full name as if that were to somehow deter him away from you. A noise is growing louder in the living room and it’s not the music— is someone clapping? You slowly open your eyes and take note of the very drunk barely standing Eddie Munson making his way towards you, eyes black as tar a look of maniacal madness plastered on his face.

“Well well, what do we have here?” Eddie slurs as he steps cautiously towards you. Steve stops tickling you and moves his face away from your hair, you can hear his heart beating against his chest as he moves you off of his lap and onto the couch, protective hands on your legs as puffs out his chest.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, panic rising from your chest.

“Well I just thought I would wish the happy new couple many years of blissful togetherness, looks like I missed the knighting ceremony— sorry about that.”

“Eddie, you’re drunk,” Steve interjects, “let me take you home”

“Not really my type Harrington,” Eddie says, looking only at you, “ ‘m not leaving until she talks to me, alone.”

“Come on, man. You’re making a scene and she’s uncomfortable.” Steve places a hand on your jittering leg squeezing it tight to let you know it’ll be okay, a gesture that Eddie doesn’t miss.

“Oh is she?” A false expression of concern clouds Eddie’s face, “how dare I? Turns out,” he says, inching closer and dropping down to stare into your eyes, your eyes burning from the aroma of whiskey on his breath. “I know how to make her very comfortable when it comes to that, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you!” You yell, slapping his face.

“Now now sweetheart, poor Steve doesn’t need to hear how vulgar that mouth can get, you usually leave that for a second date at least right?.”

Steve stands from the couch and is toe to toe with Eddie, both fuming. You try to shove your way in between them before they start swinging. Luckily Eddie stumbles backward creating space between them, you turn to Steve just as Dustin runs into the living room, holding Eddie back as he grins wildly, shoving devil horns onto his head and throwing his tongue out.

“I’m gonna go talk to him Steve, he’s clearly just upset, I’ll be okay. I promise.” Steve gives you a look of concern, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Be careful.” He says, eyes glaring into Eddie’s from across the room. You press a kiss into his cheek and squeeze his hand.

“Let’s go,” you scowl, grabbing Eddie by the elbow and dragging him out to the front yard.

“Ow!” Eddie whines, “Christ, cut it out, babe!”

“Okay first and foremost, enough with the pet names, they were cute when we were together but they’re not now, so knock it off.”

Eddie salutes you like a soldier saluting his lieutenant.

“Secondly, what the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Eddie preens, “what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have a problem, I’m just a, a concerned friend is all.”

You scoff, “we are not friends, this is the only conversation we have had since you dumped me that night, and look at us—we’re fighting again! Last I knew you hated my guts, so don’t come at me with this ‘concerned friend’ bullshit because it’s nothing but a fucking lie.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Really? Could have fooled the fuck out of me when you made me quit Hellfire and told me to stop showing up to your shows. You forget they were my friends too! Did you even tell Wayne that we broke up? Cause every time I see him he looks more and more confused as to why I’m not around!”

That hit deep. “It’s not his business who I’m fucking.”

“So that’s all I was to you, huh?” Tongue in your cheek ready to slap his stupid perfect face, “You’re un-fucking-believable!”

“You look good tonight.”

“Shut up Eddie— don’t fucking start with me. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here and try to make an ass out of me, in front of my friends!” You poke a finger into his chest and glare up at him.

“Oh, now look who’s all high and mighty, well I’m sorry, your excellency, to interrupt the clever mind of King Steve—but I didn’t come here to fucking win you over. Dustin wanted to be here so I drove him. I didn’t even know you would be here! First person I saw was Steve Harrington and he was all over you. So yeah, it hurt to see you move on with someone else.”

“I’m only doing exactly what you told me to do!” You can’t help the tears from falling, “or did you forget that part?” You close your eyes remembering the way his mouth moved the way the rain fell against his leather jacket, how it felt sticking to your shirt soaking you to the bone. “You were the one who told me to find someone else, so I did, just so happens that you were around to see it happening. We aren’t even dating— that was our first kiss.” You wipe your tears as they fall, pulling away from Eddie as he tries to mimick your motions, his hand falling down to his jeans.

“You fucking think it’s easy for me to see you with him?” Eddie asks, looking at you through his lashes, “I felt like someone shot me in the chest when I watched him kiss you.”

“What did you expect? Me to wait around for you after you basically told me to go fuck myself?” You yank at the hair closest to your scalp, pulling in frustration, “you dumped me Eddie! Not the other way around.” You’re yelling at this point, so beyond pissed off that he’s making this seem like it’s your fault for the way he acted.

“Did you act like it was me? Wish it was my lips on yours instead of him?”

“Grow up, Eddie.”

“Oh come on baby,” his voice dripping seductively, “don’t you remember what it felt like to have my lips on your neck,” he sweeps your hair off your shoulder, “or when I was between your legs, making you come with my t—“

“Don’t— do not finish that sentence! You think insulting me while you’re hammered and a half ass apology is going to fix what you did? Think the fuck again.” You turn on your heel in a huff and try to head back into the house.

“I know your body better than any tweedle dick in Hawkins ever could, sweetheart.”

“God you are so fucking infuriating! Here you are again, acting like I ended this, like I was the one who ripped your heart out that night and stomped all over it. Leaving you to walk home in the rain. I fucking hate you Eddie Munson! I hate everything about you— now leave me the hell alone!” You turn on your heel, huffing as you walk the sloped grassy hill past a blacked out Jonathan Byers.

“Baby please,” Eddie has you by the waist pulling you closer to him. “Please just hear me out, I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. That’s the only thing I’m good at is fucking everything up. I’m sorry I said those things when we broke up—I’m sorry for being an asshole tonight. I just—seeing you with him, letting you go— is a pain I’ve never felt before. And I’m sure the bottle of whiskey I drank isn’t helping that.”

You fish in your pockets for your keys, realizing Robin drove, “Give me your keys, I’ll drive you home.”

Climbing into the driver's seat of the clunky hunk of metal, you are met with the all too familiar scent of him. The cheap cologne you gifted him for his birthday last year, Marlboro reds, the spice of his deodorant that he kept in the glove box, all hitting you at once. Turning the key you press your foot to the accelerator to give it a little oomf to turn over.

“You gotta give it a little—”

“I know. Not my first time driving it.”

“Sorry, forgot I guess.” The van roars to life and you flick the lights on, Eddie is leaning with his head on the headrest, one long leg thrown across the dash the other stuffed under the glove compartment. You speed down the road, heading towards Forest Hills Trailer Park. Silence is golden but not if you’re Eddie Munson, “remember when you almost fought that guy at The Hideout?”

A chuckle breaks from your lips sighing at the memory, “he was talking shit about Corroded Coffin, specifically you.”

“He was at least 6ft 8, 400 lbs, a fucking caveman,” a smile forms on his mouth, showing his pearly whites, “he could have easily beaten up the entire bar, and you just stood there poking him in the chest giving him an earful.”

“And I’d do it again, too.” you smile widely back at Eddie.

“I fell in love with you that night,” he admits, “I already knew I was but that just put the nail in the coffin for me.”

Your smile fades at the memories of Eddie once being in love with you, being yours.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts.

“You already did, but go on.”

“Why Harrington?” He’s facing you eyes droopy with drunkenness as he fiddles with a lighter. “Out of all the ass clowns of Hawkins, why him?”

“I told you, we aren’t dating, we just kissed. We got close after the— a month ago, and— why does it matter?”

“Easy..”

“No, I'm being serious. Why does it matter to you that much?”

“There’s road construction up ahead, take it easy!”

“Don’t change the subj— “

“Fuck! Fuck! The bridge is ou—”

Eddie wakes up a week later in the hospital. He suffered a concussion and broke his right femur, 4 broken ribs and a broken nose. His spleen had ruptured as well. Doctors thought he wouldn’t wake up due to the severity of the accident. The first thing he asked about was you. Dustin couldn’t tell him. He tried but when the machines hooked up to Eddie started beeping and he started ripping IV’s out of his arm— the nurses ran in to push more pain meds, making him drowsy again.

It was Wayne who ended up telling him what had happened. The van nose dived into the creek bed, the van’s exterior was nothing compared to the jagged rocks and old slabs of concrete at the bottom. The force of the fall crushed the front of it like a pop can. Ambulance crews from 3 counties came to assist with the crash, nobody on either crew had seen anything like it before. He was lucky to be alive, Wayne had said.

“Wayne— don’t bullshit me, where is she?”

The warble of Wayne’s lower lip was enough answers for Eddie. He shook his head until a headache blurred his vision. He threw anything around him he could get his hands on, ripping every single IV out of his arms, punching the cast on his leg, screaming until his lungs gave out and his ribs ached even more. He was sedated. Sent to the psych ward where he was kept on an involuntary 72 hour hold. Refusing to eat, refusing to talk to anyone. He was released into Wayne’s care. Roane County Hospital was thankful to get rid of him.

The Hellfire boys visited, each giving their condolences. Heads hung low like the dwarfs from Snow White after she bites the poisoned apple and is in a death/sleep limbo. Robin and Steve came next, offering to take Eddie to see your headstone. The ride home was quiet as Eddie’s tears fell silently. A red eyed Robin rubbed Steve’s back as he put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” Eddie finally said, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I— ” his voice breaks as he clutches for sanity.

“It’s not your fault,” Steve muffled through his hands, “it was an accident Eddie, could have happened to any of us.”

Eddie’s grief wore him down, he barely left his room, his senior year came and went, returning to school was too much for him, the anxiety creeping through his veins surging panic anytime he was somewhere you would have been, should have been. If only he had drove that night, maybe he would have been dead instead of you. He would gladly take your place, nothing here for him, you had friends, family.

He found the only solace he could.

“I don’t usually make house calls but I guess I’ll do it for you Munson,” Rick croaked into the phone.

The high was fast, his breathing evened and he fell asleep quickly. The addiction was even faster, hitting him like a freight train against the rails, he was a shell of his former self.

One night it went too far.

The taste of grease coated fingers in his mouth jars his eyes awake, vomit fills his mouth as he hurls all over the shower. The beads of water beating down on his chest as Wayne places his fingers into his mouth again, making him puke again and again, the long coiled cord of the telephone dragging and bouncing across the bathroom linoleum as Wayne holds the receiver with his shoulder wedged against his ear.

That was eight years ago. A night that scared the absolute shit out of Wayne Munson and aged him at least 15 years. Eddie had been sober since that day, making a vow to himself and to you to live for the both of you. He did escape Hawkins, taking Corroded Coffin to the top of the billboard charts, and making Wayne quit that God awful factory job and go on tour with him, never to lift a finger for anyone but himself again. Tonight was the anniversary of your death. Corroded Coffin was performing a memorial show in your honor at the Hideout.

Eddie addresses the crowd, “this is for the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, she’s gone but never forgotten, living on through the people who knew her and loved her…” a teary eyed Steve wipes his eyes beneath his glasses, holding Nancy tight against him, resting his head atop of hers. “…sweetheart, this is for you.”

[osidius-el-enfatico]

NICO'S SO YOU WANNA READ SOMETHING OTHER THAN MARVEL AND DC

hello everybody, I'm Nico, you might know me from being a fucking hater and a gross nerd and I'm here to tell you that you don't have to be whipped around by the big 2, there's a world of good shit out there, we can go find it together. come, take my hand.

The ones everyone will tell you about

these are the ones you are supposed to read, even if you mainly read big 2 stuff.

go on, read Hellboy (here's a reading order list, it gets dicey but I believe in you). go on, read saga. go on, read blacksad. go on, read something is killing the children. go on, read Locke and key

ok, with these out of the way, let's begin

so you want to read super hero type stuff

1. black hammer by Jeff lemire et al.

in the past, black hammer (the greatest supper hero) and six superheroes of his team save the city but in the process get sucked into a parallel dimension, in the 10 years since they have tried everything to go back to their world without much success, but there's still superheroing to do.

2. minor threats by Patton oswalt et al.

one of the biggest villains in the city murders the robin analogue in this world. which causes the heroes to go hog wild and turn everything into a police state. in the middle of it all, the small time villains who just want to rob a store or turn dogs into cats or whatever are caught in the line of fire of a fight way above their pay grade.

3. America's got powers by Johnathan Ross and Bryan hitch

18 years ago an alien crystal of unknown origin fell from the sky in San Francisco, at that same moment every pregnant woman in the city gave birth to a superpowered child. today, all of the babies are used as gladiators in a reality show that can bring them fame and fortune or death. the only kid to be born that day without superpowers is thrust all the same into the arena to fend for himself.

4. buzzkill by Donny cates and mark reznicek

imagine you're the biggest superhero there is, but to get each of your individual super powers you had to consume a different drug everytime you wanted to use it. imagine that this breaks every single relationship you have and you want to go clean. imagine also that the city still needs you. what is your obligation to your city over yourself?

the first two titles are more akin to big 2 comics with an expansive universe and several smaller titles to accompany the main one.

so you want to read a little freak

1. bone by Jeff Smith

go read bone. do it now. phoney bone gets expelled from his natal city from his latest scheme to get rich. in the process he drags out of the city his cousins smiley bone and fone bone, our hero. in the process of escaping the three get separated and each one gets into his own adventures that unfold a dark tale in the valley they end up on. a dark fantasy comedy for all ages

2. good bye, chunky rice by Craig thompson

a small turtle leaves his home and his friends because he feels he has done all he can in this particular stage of his life. he explores love and loss throughout his trip

3. Krazy Kat by George herriman

this is one of the most influential newspaper strips of the early 20th century. Krazy is a cat in love with ignatz the mouse who fucking hates him. krazy's biggest want in life is to get his love reciprocated, ignatz just wants to throw bricks at krazy's head

so you want to bawl your eyes out

1. primordial by Jeff lemire and Andrea Sorrentino.

one of the scientists in charge of the Laika space launch is convinced she is still up there somewhere and is adamant to get her back. at the same time the last launch with monkey is going into space. on one side we see the scientists working and dealing with the ethical ramifications of their work, on the other we see the critters and their limited sentience of what is happening.

2. the lil depressed boy by Isabel struble and Sina grace

the lil depressed boy (or ldb as everyone calls it) is a sack boy like the one in little big planet, but one who is a fucking nerd and likes indie music and bowling, he navigates through life without direction, finding temporary relief in one thing or another, but ultimately a lost souls just doing whatever he can to stay afloat. you will find this under the author's deadname, but after her transition Isabel seems to have shed the veil that made this autobiographical story happen. good-for-her.gif

3. essex county by jeff lemire

this is a trilogy of books based around the area in which jeff lemire grew up in with only a geographical connection uniting them. a young boy has his whole world turned upside down with no one to guide him through it. a pair of brothers who did everything together grow apart and end up hating each other in adulthood. a rural nurse reckons with how she can only do so much for the people that depend on her. this was also adapted for canadian tv but i really havent seen it yet, so i dont know how that went

so you want to read about important stuff

1. Maus by art spielgman

this probably should have gone in the first part of things everyone tells you to read but I'd be remiss not mentioning it directly. it is the only comic to win a Pulitzer, art spielgman tells us how his father tells him his story during the Holocaust. it is harrowing, raw, and gruesome. but it still retains a glimmer of better things, art's father is funny in his relationship with art which give you little respites to all the shit going on

2. march by John Lewis with Andrew Aydin and Nate Powell

yes, the John Lewis who marched next to Martin Luther king. this is his autobiographical account of the civil rights movement in the 60s. it is insightful but raw. still feeling it all in the present day.

3. Vaincus mais vivants. chile 1973 by Maximilien leroy

I hate french people but they're good at this comic book shit. this Tells the tale of commandante Carmen and commandante Miguel, heads of the MIR (movimiento de izquierda revolucionaria-revolutionary leftist movement) before and during the USA backed coup in Chile in 1973. how they had worked before it went down, and how they hid to try to survive the persecution.

4. footnotes in Gaza by Joe sacco

Joe sacco is a journalist who does comics on the side. in this stand out he tries to tell the story of the Khan Yunis and rafah massacres in 1956 through interviews with palestinians alive at the time, while interweaving the current (to 2003) situation in rafah. another account of the monster that is Israel and the resilience of the Palestinian people.

so you want to laugh

1. the tick by Ben endlund

you have seen the cartoon. the tick is a dumbass who is also the biggest hero in naked city. go read this shit, just pick up whatever volume you find, continuity isn't really a thing here

2. imagine agents by Brian Joines and bachan

this is basically men in black but instead of aliens they have to control and keep the people from knowing about the reality of imaginary friends kids abandon and how they can get out of control. it's so stupid

so you want to read a western

1. east of west by Jonathan hickman and Nick dragotta

much like in reality, the USA is a dystopian land but in this book there's also science fiction. and the only begins that can save that shit hole are the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

2. Shaolin cowboy by Geoff Darrow

like east of west, this mixes science fiction with western. but this is pretty simple. he's a Shaolin monk who is also a cowboy, and he has to get out of situations. one time it was a flying shark, another one it was zombies. and so on and so forth *zizek voice*

3. six gun gorilla by Simon spurrier and Jeff stokely

in a world colonized in the future after earth was ran dry of respurces by greed, one single gunslinger tries to bring order to the land. he happens to be a biologically enhanced gorilla

so you want to get experimental

jimmy corrigan: the smartest kid on earth by chris ware

simply put, this shit is the house of leaves of comics. some dude get the opportunity to meet his dad for the first time at the age of 36. its simple enough but this takes you for a visual ride.

2. asterios polyp by david mazzuchelli

again, this story is simple enough. a professor gets his house torched by thunder and escapes the city to star anew somewhere else. but you get the story told by people who dont exist, jumping between past and present.

3. almost silent by jason

jason's stories are pantomime. his anthropomorphic characters dont emote too much, but you can feel them. this collection of stories focuses on his stories that have almost no dialogue at all.

so you want gays

are you listening? by tillie walden

this isnt a love story. but it is a story of connection and deep understanding, of someone else and yourself. theres also a magical cat in it.

2. laura dean keeps breaking up with me by mariko tamaki and rosemary valero-o'connell

laura dean is the protagonist's on again, off again girlfriend. she is also a cunt. freddy keeps distancing herself from her circle due to laura's games and manipulation. but she has to learn how to keep herself afloat in this vortex.

shit you need to read because its important to the art form

a contract with god by will eisner

this is the originator of the term graphic novel. its a triology of stories which are in the vein of a lot of eisner's comics, simple pictures of life in a jewish neighborhood in new york. but told with such mastery of the craft that they pull you in like nothing else.

2. calvin & hobbes by bill watterson

yeah, yeah. i know. you know calvin and hobbes. you love calvin and hobbes. go read the whole thing from start to finish tho, go do it right now.

3. hicksville by dylan horrocks

this is universailly described as a love letter to comics as a medium. it tells you a biographical account of dylan horrocks life. it also tells you a biographical account of sam zabel, a character of horrock's that appears in much of his ouvre. it also tells you a story of intrigue and mystery surrounding the biggest comic creator in the world, dick burger (yeah, thats his name). it is also my favorite comic.

list of good shit that i couldnt fit into a theme and im also bored of this now so heres just a loooong list

the many deaths of laila starr by ram v and filipe andrade

judas by jeff loveness and jakub rebelka

the loneliness of the long distance cartoonist by adrian tomine

un homme est mort by etienne davodeau and kris

el hombre que vino del cielo by infame & co.

box office poison by alex robinson

fishflies by jeff lemire

andre the giant. life and legend by box carr

le retorneur by freederik peeters

elks run by joshua hale fialkov and noel tuazon

just so happens by fumio obata

ody-c by matt fraction and chris ward

trenches by scott mills

[tzeentchdaemonsart]

The beginning of Tzeentch. In this post I will explore where Tzeentch came from, and his earliest mentions and depictions, and his likely inspirations.

Realm of Chaos Book 1, 1988, picture of Tzeentch.

This is the earliest depiction of Tzeentch I've been able to find in the history of Warhammer publications.

Prior to this only Khorne and Nurgle were described in Warhammer fantasy roleplay 1986.

The earliest list of the Chaos gods names (and therefore the earliest printing of the name 'Tzeentch') I've been able to find, is from Warhammer 1st edition, Forces of Fantasy 1983 (first paragraph at the top of page 40) though it gives no description or depiction of them.

'... worship a documented god (Khorne, Slaanesh, Nurgle or Tzeentch at the time of writing)...' either Rick Priestley or Bryan Ansell in 1983

The image of Tzeentch appears to be kept consistent in modern editions as seen in this picture from Age of Sigmar (1st ed 2017, Disciples of Tzeentch)

And the description given of Tzeentch in the realm of chaos book is repeated in the Warhammer armies Chaos 4th & 5th edition, liber Chaotica Tzeentch, codex chaos etc. (pictured below is the description from the liber Chaotica (2005) followed by the description & adjoining picture in the realm of chaos book 2 (1990)

The face of Tzeentch is even given as a champion upgrade in the realm of chaos (1990), showing a cut of this much larger picture found elsewhere in the same book.

To definitively conclude this: Tzeentch is a big horned horror. Just like a big pink/blue horror, with two main arms, & two horned limbs right above his main arms, and two great big sweeping horns from above his brow which look more like moving snakes with faces on the end. He has a main face around his shoulder level, two smaller faces below on either side, and a large face across his belly. Any other faces are presumably transitory.

'Tzeen' means 'change' in the dark tongue, and 'neth' or 'leth' mean 'lord'. Hence Tzeeneth means Change-Lord. Its common form in the language of the empire or Imperium is Tzeentch

The inspiration for Tzeentch are most likely gods like Arioch, of Micheal Moorcock's Elric of Melnibone saga, and Nyarlathotep of H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos.

The 2nd Edition of Warhammer Fantasy Battles has a dedication to Michael Moorcock, Phil Barker and Donald Featherstone.

Moorcock's Elric of Melnibone saga (1960s) creates the Chaos - Law paradigm, where there are two sets of opposing Gods. Arioch is the main Chaos God and his relationship with Elric is highly characteristic of how Warhammer would go on to depict the relationship between a chaos champion and their god.

Whilst Chaos and Law appear superficially attached to evil & good, this becomes questioned as Moorcock eventually presents the idea that progress is only possible with a balance between chaos and law, as to live in a world of pure law and tradition would allow no change, and a world of pure chaos would live every day as if it was the first never progressing past it.

This likely inspired the early Dungeons and Dragons writers as well and is probably the reason Chaos & Order exist on a perpendicular axiom to Good and Evil on alignment charts in D&D. The early Warhammer writers were reacting towards D&D and inherited much from them (1st ed citadel miniatures from white dwarf issue 12 were 'advanced dungeons and dragons' minis).

The Moorcock's Elric of Melnibone is also likely the source for the idea of mutation in the Warhammer sense, and is likely the inspiration for the idea of Daemon Weapons, and Sentient Weapons.

Lovecraft is better known these days than Moorcock and probably needs no introduction. It's clear the eldritch ancient horrors of the Great Old Ones and their endless conspiracies to find a way (back) into reality and take it over, also inspired the idea of 'chaos' in both dungeons and dragons and Warhammer. The madness which comes from the Necronomicon and knowing it's secrets, echoes the madness followers of chaos might expect when learning more about the warp and their god. Stories like the Dunwich Horror could as easily be describing a daemonic incursion in the Warhammer world with little alteration needed.

The fusion of Moorcock's and Lovecraft's lore appears to be the inspiration for Chaos. They define the concept of a god without it being all powerful, and foreshadow the different relationships that are created between mortal followers of chaos and their gods. They introduce the themes of mutation and madness which characterise Chaos, thereby appearing to be the ingredients of what became Chaos in the Warhammer sense.

Khorne appears little more than a classic war god in this Warhammer-Chaos veneer, and likewise Slaanesh is clearly inspired by a unification of Astarte, Dionysus, & succubi/incubi in a manner reminiscent of the Christian Devil. Perhaps considering Khorne's image and that of his blood letters, one could conclude that both Khorne and Slaanesh look heavily towards the Christian Devil for inspiration, albeit in different ways.

Nurgle is loosely presented as a death god, and one day I'll look into his inspiration properly. Similarly Tzeentch is presented as a god of sorcery. It's suffice to say here that neither Nurgle nor Tzeentch draw as much from ancient mythology, as unlike Khorne and Slaanesh, their personalities are utterly antithetical towards the personalities of the ancient gods of death and magic which they would nominally be attributed towards. It is my opinion so far in researching this that both Nurgle and Tzeentch draw far more heavily on Moorcock & Lovecraft than the other two, uniting the themes of mutation and madness in chaos and more purely attempt to capture the very essence of Chaos itself. It seams as if Nurgle is the abundant manifestation of chaos and Tzeentch is the distilled essence of chaos.