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#consider it a punch pulled/surprise for later
mufos-photo-album · 12 days
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Does Mufotsuki have any family members? Piripu has/had his guardians, does mufo have any?
Glad you asked, because she does!
Mufotsuki has many connections with the spirits of the Vault, however her main/strongest connections are between her Mom, Dad, and Big Sister (all adoptive).
Below are depictions of Mom and Dad from around June - August 20th. Dad is a soldier-type, so he's often out of the Vault patrolling the Wasteland (in fact, that's how they found Mufo). He's pretty stoic but a good sport regarding younger Mufo's shenanigans.
Mom is one of many mages tasked with maintaining the Vault. She's a higher ranking mage, landing herself somewhere on the middle of the totem pole. Like her husband, her work keeps her busy, though being in the Vault granted her more time to look after Mufo while on the job.
Mom and Dad met and were a close couple before they died and became spirits. Both are in their 40s - 50s.
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(If you're wondering why you've never seen these pieces until now, they're from a video project I haven't shared yet. The project is regrettably still unfinished).
Big Sister, who I haven't drawn yet, is akin to a third parent. She and Mufo aren't actually related. Instead, she's just a good friend of Mom who took a special liking to Mufo and became her honorary sister. The reason why Big Sis isn't "Aunt" is because she too is a mage, though she works under Mom. Mom bosses around Big Sis and Mufo as if they are both her children. Big Sis was young Mufo's biggest enabler. She is in her mid to late 20s.
As mentioned before, Mufo also has some other family connections. The one I feel like talking about the most is her connection to the children of the Vault. When Mufo was younger (like, freshly born from the sky) she had a sibling relationship with kids in the Vault that were her age. Mufo grew out of these relationships though, as Mufo physically + mentally aged while the spirit kids didn't. She used to be called "little sister" but these days she is "big little sister", in reference to how she is taller than the spirit kids she grew up with but is technically younger than all of them (like in the physical sense, not developmentally).
I also wanna clarify something for Mufotsuki and Piripu since "has/had" was used. All of their family/guardians are dead (as in they are spirits). Dad was a spirit when he found Mufo, and Kucevoz and Odiwa were spirits when they found Piripu. That being said, I imagine Piripu's relationship with his guardians is more estranged, so maybe the use of "has/had" is more appropriate for him.
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userlando · 1 year
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i just saw someone talking about sucking lando off while hes driving and then a second later i see a video on tt of him driving his new mclaren & now im considering that 👍🏼
you caught me on a good night, honey. it’s warm as fuck and I can’t sleep so here’s this little blurb no one asked for 🤍
different kind of ride (1k words) lando norris/fem!reader car bj ~nsfw
Lando couldn’t believe what was happening. He’d asked you to come with him to the headquarters in Woking, buzzing all over because he’d finally get his hands on his new car. It had been hard to cruise around in his Jolly, mostly because he knew how private you wished your relationship to be kept. And, well, the Jolly was nothing but an attention grabber whenever the two of you drove down the streets of Monaco.
You’d stood quietly to the side, observing Lando and his colleagues as they marvelled over his new McLaren and although you didn’t say much verbally, Lando could see the excitement in your eyes. The permanent stretch of your lips warmed his heart to the core, seeing you so happy because he was happy.
The both of you had taken it for a spin, driving down the roads of the English country side with nothing but asphalt and the greens to accompany you.
Lando hadn’t expected you to reach over the console and undo his jeans, almost crashing his new car into the cliffs by how he swerved and he thanked the heavens that no one was around because he wasn’t driving like the skilled driver he was.
There were no words forming in his mouth, gaping at you as you zipped his fly down and fished his cock out of his underwear so casually. He had a hard time believing his eyes.
You, the shy and quiet girl whom he’d known for almost a year now, who did everything to keep the attention off of herself. You’d only just gotten comfortable with him in bed, needing a little time to break out of your shell and here you were, bending at the waist and getting your mouth on him like it was an everyday occurrence. It wasn’t.
His thoughts halted to a complete stop when he felt the warmth and wetness of your mouth enveloping him, eyes rolling as his hands white knuckled the steering wheel. You still hadn’t said anything, aside from the little moans and whimpers you let out as you took more of him in your mouth, sucking him off so good that Lando couldn’t help but take one hand off the steering to place on the back of your head.
He didn’t push, nor did he guide because you were doing a bloody good job on your own and he just really needed to get a hand on you, to feel you there with him; Like he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t just having a good fucking dream.
Lando had slowed down considerably, barely doing twenty on a sixty road and you must’ve sensed it because you moaned, tongue sliding out your mouth to lick the underside of his cock, like you were trying to remind him that he was still driving.
There wasn’t a day that went by since he started dating you, that you weren’t blowing his mind; surprising him with everything you did and said. One of his favourite things to find out about you was how fucking filthy you could be. A true contrast to the sweet and soft spoken girl his mother had met a few months ago.
Lando rolled to a stop on the side of the road, not even bothering to turn the engine off as he diverted all of his attention on you, watching your head bob in his lap as you took him in further and further in your mouth. A sound of sweet triumph left your throat when you managed to fit all of him in your mouth, and the vibrations of it travelled down his cock so deliciously that his hips jumped up.
You gagged and pulled off to take a breath, chest heaving as you tilted your head and locked eyes with him. Lando felt like the breath had been punched out of him when he saw the tears in your eyes and the saliva slick on your lips, digging his teeth into his lower lip as he stared at you; in awe.
“You’re something else.” He gave a laugh that sounded a lot like wonder and disbelief, and you shot him a dazzling smile that knocked the breath from his chest. “Fucking hell, baby.”
You didn’t say anything as you went back to getting him off, lips pursing against the head of his weeping cock and giving it small kisses until Lando was groaning low in his throat. You opened your mouth and swallowed him down, working on making it as pleasurable for him as possible.
It was only when your jaw was starting to ache and Lando was gripping your hair with his hands that you pulled off, ignoring your boyfriend’s whiny protest in favour of jerking him off.
The sounds in the car were filthy, almost drowned out by the rumbling of the engine but Lando couldn’t focus on anything else but your hand on him and the occasional lick to his head.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—“ He warned lamely, voice tight as he felt his stomach coil, just waiting to snap.
He expected you to keep going, but you surprised him by getting your mouth around his head and sucking hard. Lando was done for, letting out a strangled moan as he came in your mouth, spilling everything he had and hearing your distinct moans over the rush of blood in his ears, playing like music.
When he slowly came down from his high, you licked at his cock to clean him up as best as you could, hearing him letting out little whimpers at the sensitivity and only taking a deep inhale when you managed to tuck him back in and zip him up.
You sat back in your seat, grimacing a little at the pain of being in an uncomfortable position for so long and glanced at Lando. His head was resting against the seat, turned toward you with cheeks pink and lips bitten raw. He was staring like he was seeing you in a different light, and it made you flush a little.
“We’re not even close to done.” He said, like you’d asked him a question and it made you laugh.
“No?”
Lando shook his head, lazy smile spreading on his lips as he reached for your hand.
“Nope, not done.” He said, giving you a look from beneath his eyelashes that spelled trouble. “Just need to regain feeling in my body first.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
umm idk what this was, consider it a gift from me to y’all who were unsatisfied with the ending of cherry wine. I’m gonna go hide in shame now bye
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storiesofsvu · 11 months
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Good Little Pet
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Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, kitten kink/very minor pet play, more mentions of it, strap sucking, daddy!emily, lots of dirty talk. Welp, we made it, the last halloween fic on November 8th. nbd lol. who knows if it's any good. Bare with me as I continue to try and get some one shots out for y'all!
To be completely honest, Emily was pretty exhausted, drained from a day of questioning sleazebag after sleazebag in an attempt to move forward on a case, the only saving grace was that it was local to D.C, no jets, no hotels and most importantly, she could come home to you at the end of the day. She’d already missed dinner, the sun gone from the sky when she finally trudged out to the parking lot, the car springing to life so the clock could tell her it was nearing ten thirty p.m. already. Plugging her dead phone in she let out a sigh and shifted the car into drive, by the time she hit the freeway her phone began to buzz with a couple of texts from you that she waited until she was at a standstill to check.
‘Guessing you’re trapped at work, I’m heading out around seven. Dinner’s in the fridge, lmk if you’re gonna swing by the party, you know the address.’  With a little smiley face and heart at the end. The next one was time stamped two hours later.
‘Ngl, I’m a little drunk. This Halloween punch is no joke. Would it be wildly inappropriate to say I want you to rail me into next week? God I hope you’re not on the jet rn galivanting off across the country because my hands just will not cut it.’
Emily barked out a laugh, shaking her head at your brashness before she swiftly typed out a reply, sly smile still on her cheeks.
‘It would only be wildly inappropriate if you weren’t my girlfriend. I’m on my way now, save me a drink.’
She signed it with a kiss and plugged the address into her GPS, taking note of the different exit she was going to have to take.
*
To be completely honest, you didn’t go out much, whether that was to the bar or to house parties, you especially felt like you’d outgrown the latter. You were much more focused on work and spending what free time you did have with your girlfriend considering she was out of town more often than not. So tonight was a special night where you were finally letting loose a little, indulging in punch, drinking games and catching up with friends you hadn’t seen in a while. The party was a mix of people, some you’d worked with in the past, their partners, friends, new coworkers, a full house including a handful of people you didn’t know.
You’d been catching up with April when one of those people you didn’t know sauntered up and introduced himself as Travis, his hand lingering in yours a little too long for comfort had you been sober. His intro line was funny enough to make you laugh and honestly he was pretty cute, if you were single and swung that way you wouldn’t have any complaints. He conveniently reached around you to grab a fresh beer out of the cooler, passing it off to his other hand so the first one could remain leaning on the counter, dangerously close to your body. You complimented his costume, earning a wide grin from him as he chuckled softly, paying both of you a compliment back before the three of you fell into an incredibly easy and comfortable conversation.
Emily managed to slip into the house unnoticed, though she wasn’t surprised, things were more than in full swing, people everywhere, lights low and music going. Crossing through the main living room there was a group of people half watching horror movies while shouting when to drink to each other while they talked over the rest of it. She caught eyes with a few people she recognized, giving them waves from across the room as she made her way through the space to the doorway of the kitchen where she heard you before she saw you. Your laugh always made her heart flutter, whether she was the one pulling them from you or not, her lips twitching up into a grin as her eyes searched through the darkened room.
Her eyes widened briefly when she saw you, dressed in a tight, sparkly black bodysuit with matching boy shorts over top, just enough of your chest peeking out over the top of the neckline. The tip of your nose was painted pink, whiskers drawn across your bright cheeks, a headband with cat ears on the top of your head and a fluffy tail pinned to the back of your shorts. She knew you hadn’t been planning anything extensive for your costume, not being one for dressing up but this was just the perfect amount to look good yet also drive her wild. As her gaze dragged up your body her head tilted, eyes narrowing at a hand resting on your hip that wasn’t yours, rather it was connected to the arm wrapped around your waist. The man beside you was laughing at something you said, leaning in to untangle a curl of your hair that had gotten wrapped around one of the cat ears.
She could tell that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable, the smile on your cheeks genuine and not just to appease him but that didn’t help the green eyed monster that was beginning to burn inside her gut. She wasn’t sure if it was an old friend or a stranger who was getting a little too cozy, but she certainly didn’t want him to stick around much longer. Slipping through the crowd she was finally able to approach you, a smirk breaking out on her lips when you spotted her, practically jumping away from the counter and your new friend.
“Baby!” You greeted, squeezing tightly at her hand as you popped toward her to steal a quick kiss.
“Hi babe.” She murmured back, smile on her cheeks before she was interrupted.
“Aw c’mon, you’re not even dressed up.” Travis interjected.
“Yeah?” Her hand found her hip, brushing back the front of her blazer revealing her Glock in the process.
“So what’re you supposed to be?” He asked again, smarmy grin on his cheeks.
“An FBI agent who’s pissed you’ve got your hands all over her girlfriend.” She replied with a stern gaze and he backed up with a laugh.
“You could at least let me hold your gun.”
“It’s not a prop.” Emily glared and he was across the kitchen without a second word, April disappearing to leave the two of you alone for a couple of minutes.
“He was harmless.” You giggled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“I know.” She huffed a laugh, “doesn’t make intimidating him any less fun.”
“You’re ruthless.”
“And you make one hell of a seductive cat.”
“Yeah?” You asked with a grin, “that mean I get to sit on your lap?”
“You can do a lot more than sit on my lap.” She murmured; her fingers splayed across your jaw to tilt your head toward her as her thumb trailed down your neck. She’d been intending to pull you into a kiss but when her thumb hit leather her eyes directed further south, widening at the black choker around your neck. It only took a second for her to realize it wasn’t a necklace, but rather a collar, complete with a gemstone at the front of it, her head tilted in confusion. “That’s not your birthstone.”
“No.” You chuckled, “it’s yours. All kitties have to know who they belong to, don’t they?”
“Well you…” her thumb moved back up, rubbing at your jaw, “seem to have forgotten that part.” She leant down, leaving a kiss on the side of your neck, her next words husked into your ear, “I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.” Her teeth nipped at your earlobe as your breath caught in your throat, a tingle shooting through your entire body, “now kitten…who do you belong to?”
Your eyes widened, pulse quickening at the use of the new pet name, knowing no doubt it was brought on by the risqué costume you’d chosen for the night, completely unaware it was going to awaken something like this in Emily.
“You, daddy.” You whispered and she smiled, a hungry look in her eye as she leant in to peck you.
“Good girl.” Her hand slunk down your arm, fingers lacing with yours, “now, you promised you’d save me a drink.”
“Mmhmm…” Nodding, you took a breath to try and calm yourself before leading her to the drink table.
Emily’s hand didn’t leave your body for the rest of the night, lingering in the small of your back, resting across your shoulders, winding tightly around your waist whenever anyone got a little too friendly. Her lips would press into your neck, shoulder, cheek, temple, anywhere acceptable for PDA in a crowd like this, staying glued to your side to make sure it was known you were hers. At one point you leant over a table, tossing the beer pong ball back to someone and she caught Travis’ eyes looking directly down your shirt, lips forming a hungry grin that made her stomach churn. She grabbed your waist, swiftly turning you to her and catching you in a deep kiss, smiling at the way your arms instantly wound around her shoulders.
“It’s time to go.” She murmured and you let out a small giggle, whispering back.
“Whatever you say daddy.”
*
Emily’s tongue was down your throat, her hands pawing at your ass as she backed you down the hallway into the bedroom, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did. You let out a moan into the kiss, your hips rutting against hers as your arms wrapped tighter around her shoulders. Her teeth sank into your lower lip, pulling a groan from you as she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, a fire in her eyes as she grinned at you.
“Can’t believe you dressed up like this just for me.” She said and you giggled.
“Well.. if it was just for you… it would’ve been sluttier.”
“How so?” She asked, a brow raised.
“No shorts, for starters.” Your fingers slipped into the waist band, shoving them down your legs leaving you in just the body suit, “probably more cleavage.” You tugged the fabric down further, exposing more of your chest and Emily chuckled.
“But now you’ve lost your tail, kitten.” Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your head to the side, nipping at you earlobe, “although we could get you a plug that has one.” Her lips brushed against your skin, “would you like that?”
“Mmhm…” You giggled, a gleam in your eyes as you looked up at her, “I didn’t expect you to be so into this?”
“What can I say?” Her fingers slipped between the collar and your neck, “I like it when everyone knows you belong to me.” Your breath hitched as she tugged on the leather, pulling you closer to her, a familiar need beginning to pulse between your legs, “now why don’t you show daddy what gorgeous lingerie you have on under this and get down on your knees like a good little pet?”
You nodded eagerly, quickly slipping the bodysuit off your body, letting it drop to the floor while Emily padded through the room, stripping her own clothing as she went. Her eyes stayed on you, a small smile on her lips as she admired your lingerie, lacy and black to fit the theme, hugging your curves perfectly.  
“That looks like my new favourite.” She purred, opening the nightstand drawer to pull out the strap, “how about you get rid of the bra, let me see those gorgeous tits, kitten.”
While you were ridding yourself of accessories, she was adding to her own, a smirk on her lips as she approached you, cock heavy between her legs. Her fingers curled around your cheek, turning your face up to her as her eyes slipped down to admire your half naked frame.
“Just so beautiful.” She winked, the tip of her finger tapping the tip of your nose, “now why don’t you get daddy’s cock nice and wet so I can fuck you so good you forget your own name, hmm?”
“Yes daddy.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think, sitting up on your knees to brace yourself on her thighs while your lips eagerly wrapped around the tip of the toy.
You bobbed down it, sinking it into the back of your throat in the way Emily absolutely loved, her hips rocking it an inch deeper as she let out a soft groan. Her hand collected your hair, gently wrapping it around her fist while you pulled off her cock, tongue sticking out of your mouth and she chuckled, using her free hand to hit the tip of her dick on your tongue.
“Good girl.”
At the praise you smiled up at her, licking a broad strip up the toy before sucking it back into your mouth, inching down it once again. Emily’s hand tightened in your hair, pushing you down further and setting a faster pace as she continued to fuck into your mouth. You could feel drool pooling in the corners of your mouth and a similar wetness collecting in your panties, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt for some relief. Your mouth sunk down to the base of the toy, pulling a gasp from Emily when the movement nudged it right against her clit. Pushing her cock deeper into your throat you slowly shook your head, shifting it back and fourth and she groaned softly, her hand tugging you off the toy by your hair.
“Are you really that needy tonight kitten?” She asked, a fire behind her eyes and you nodded, chest heaving as you panted for breath.
“Please daddy.”
“Well then get on the bed, hands and knees.” She tugged on your hair, letting it fall from her hands as you stood, watching hungrily as you presented yourself for her. “Always such a good pet, aren’t you.” You felt the bed dip behind you as she climbed onto it, her hands sliding up the back of your thighs, squeezing at the globe of your ass before a hand spanked you and you let out a gasp, feeling the tingle shift from where she’d hit you spark through your body before settling in your pussy. Emily let out a small chuckle, her hands toying with your panties, “yes… I do think you’d look rather spectacular with a tail plugging that pretty ass.” She spanked you again, “for next time I guess.”
“Please…” You whined, pressing your hips back toward her, letting out a moan as her thumb brushed over your tight hole, pressing ever so lightly.
“Don’t worry kitten, daddy will take care of you.”
Her fingers slipped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside before she chuckled darkly, her eyes settling on the glistening between your legs. There was no doubt you’d been waiting for this all evening and were absolutely aching for her to fill you up, walls fluttering around nothing as you let out a little whimper. Her hands slid up the backs of your thighs once again, pulling your pussy lips apart so she could admire you, watching the way the soft light made your juices practically sparkle. You dropped down onto your elbows, back arching and she hummed in appreciation as the angle of her view changed to one where she could see more of you, her fingers coming up to toy with your cunt.
“My pretty girl.” She purred, her slicked fingers rubbing up your back before they curled under your collar, “shame we don’t have a leash for you. I know how much you like to be choked.”
“Oh god…”  you moaned, your eyes practically rolling back into your head as she tugged at the leather, just imagining how much harder she could be pulling with the extra accessory.
“We’ll make a trip to the toy store this weekend.” Her hand moved to swat at your ass again, “get my pretty kitty whatever she wants.”
You let out a loud gasp when her body rocked forward, cock plunging into you until her hips were crashing into yours, your body shooting forward on the bed.
“Fuck!”
“You can take it.” She groaned, pulling her hips back to admire her cock slicked with your juices before it plunged back into your heat. “This’ll teach you, won’t it?” She set a fast and deep pace, each thrust of her hips driving you forward on the bed, the head of her cock brushing your g-spot, pulling louder and longer moans from you. “No more flirting with silly boys at parties.”
“N-no.” You moaned out, pussy clenching down around her as you began to claw at the bedspread, pleasure surging through your body, your skin already on fire as she continued to fuck you with ease.
“And who does my sweet kitten belong to?” She asked, giving a particularly hard thrust that drove you into the mattress.
“You daddy.”
“That’s my good pet.” Continuing to fuck deeper into you she leant over your body, leaving a handful of kisses across you bare skin. Your body shivered with each touch of her lips, thighs shaking as her hand found its way between them, gently pinching your clit before rubbing it in circles. “I know you’re close princess, you’ve been waiting too long for this. So good for daddy…”
“Fu-uck. Oh fuck!” Your eyes scrunched shut as you felt the coil getting tighter before, “harder!”
Your request was all Emily needed before her hips crashed into yours and you collapsed onto the bed, letting her fuck you into the mattress and her fingers rubbed harder at your throbbing nub. Only a minute later and the dam burst, cries of pleasure escaping your lips to bounce off the bedroom walls, the only accompanying sounds Emily’s pants and sopping sounds from your cunt as you reached your orgasm.
Emily’s thrusts slowed as your body shook beneath her, her hand disappearing from your clit, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your hips as she fucked you through your orgasm.
“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, “always so pretty for me when she comes.”
You let out a whimper in acknowledgement, barely nodding your head and she chuckled, giving you one last hard thrust that you gasped at before she gently pulled out, watching your juices dribble onto the bedspread. She tossed the strap to the side to be dealt with later, crawling over you as her hands soothed across your skin, lips leaving feather light kisses up your spine until she was fully over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple that you practically purred at while she untangled the cat ear headband from your hair, gently placing it on the nightstand. She shoved the covers down, rolling onto her back and tucking you into her side as you started to catch your breath, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin as she pulled the covers back up over the two of you.
Once your breathing was evened out you let out a soft sigh and she smiled, tilting your head up to kiss your lips before her fingers traced the pattern of the leather on your neck, the stone catching in the light.
“We are actually gonna go to the store, right?” You asked with a yawn burrowing deeper into her embrace and she laughed.
“I said, I’ll get you whatever you want kitten.”
“Good.” You grinned, eyes opening to look up at her, “not gonna lie, if I knew this was gonna awaken something in you I wouldn’t have waited until Halloween.”
Emily rolled her eyes, swatting at your ass through the blanket as you laughed, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Her fingers traced the choker, pinching at the gem, “you like wearing this?”
“Mmhm.” You nodded.
“Should get you something more dainty for everyday wear.”
“I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” She pinched at your chin, “maybe that way you won’t forget whose pet you are again.”
“Definitely not.”
___________________
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carolmunson · 1 year
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okay, since some of you asked for it:
unpopular opinion but i don’t actually think eddie was a nice soft boy at all. dustin and mike are literally afraid to ask him to move hellfire. ‘he’s always revved up,’ implying that he’s always like this, always a little close to snapping. he’s not nice to them when he asks them to find a replacement. he also guilt trips them about 'taking them in like lost sheep' and shoves them off to find a replacement instead of keeping lucas included. which is why i don't understand the 'fierce protector of his friends' take because he's so quick to drop lucas just because he's 'moved to the dark side.' aka, throwing balls into laundry baskets.
which leads me to when he gets up on the table, people are not trying to fuck around with him. this is a common occurance, people are not surprised to see him up there and yelling. they aren't surprised that he's making a spectacle of himself. if eddie was soft and sweet, he would’ve gotten beat up. if eddie was soft and gentle, he'd probably be scared of jason. guys like jason in the 80s loved being macho and punching out losers — eddie just gave him the devil horns and called it a day. eddie’s absolutely gotten in fist fights before and won (his dad is a literal criminal!) otherwise someone would've thrown something or told him to shut the fuck up. people are scared of him, even his own friends! there’s more reasons than just playing DND and metal that make town certain that he’s a cult leader. you don't just assume someone is a murderer if they haven't shown any interest in violence before, especially considering his dad was likely a shitty dude. he even bullies erica when she first shows up to hellfire and only respects her when she bullies him back and bests him. he is someone you have to EARN respect from. he will never respect anyone outright or be understanding outright. he doesn't fully respect dustin or mike to start either, he views them as underlings.
even chrissy assumes he's going to be mean and scary, there's gotta be reason behind that. he's not nice or kind in school, which is likely a defense mechanism. he’s sweet with chrissy because he likes her, he has a crush on her. it’s very clear that he has since he was a kid, otherwise why would he bring up them hanging out in middle school? why would he even remember that if he hasn’t been pining for her this whole time? he admits too, albiet flirtily, that he thought SHE'D be mean and scary too, because he doesn't like people 'like that', people he assumes are 'on the dark side'. i’m sure he hoped they’d kiss a little when she went to his trailer. he's even a little sarcastic when she's there, again, defensive. 'the maid took the week off'. but ultimately, he's nice to her because he wants to kiss her and has a crush on her. i don't think it's because he's fully 'showing her who he really is'.
also he's a literal drug dealer????? like?????
he only becomes more gentle and open with dustin and co. when he gets pulled into the upside down/vecna stuff because he needs support. they grow a bond over shared trauma. and i do believe eddie had a big brother type relationship with dustin, but just like steve he loves him begrudgingly 'i love you, you little shit bag' kind of shit. i do believe he liked and cared for his friends but i also think he always had a big layer of mean kid armor on because he had a hard life growing up. how i percieved the character is 'mean bully whose secretly nice but is mean and boisterous and loud as a cover' trope. when he explains that his father taught him to hotwire, he seems bitter about it. of course he is, all the other kids were learning to play ball. but he obviously still retains this information and a whole bunch of other crime tricks from his dad. he's BEEN partaking in this shit. he KNOWS he's a shitty guy. you don't just get taught how to hotwire once and then suddenly know how to do it years later. he's done it before! multiple times! he has practice! he likely knows about warzone cause his daddy absoLUTELY had a gun or two. his dad probably took him there once. he was pulled left and right into bad shit growing up and that will HARDEN YOU. wayne says that murder 'ain't in his nature' and i'm sure it's not. i'm sure he's different with wayne, but idk, to me, it doesn't erase the fact that outwardly, i don't think eddie was nearly as sweet and gentle as people think he is canonically. i think he's a very hardened and tortured person and that even becomes clear with his reaction to chrissy's death and how he goes about things going forward. he was a weird kid with weird interests in a cookie cutter conservative town, had a criminal father, and an unconventional family situation in the 70s and 80s, that shit'll fuck you up and over -- look at boomers y'all! they are emotionally stunted! but, i could go on forever with this character analysis. so i'll stop here. but -- in the words of the real housewives reunion meme: that's MY OPINION!
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penny00dreadful · 4 months
Text
Through The Valley - Post-Apocalypse AU - Part 1
AO3
Eddie rapped his knuckle against the metal three times.
“I don’t sell from the van, Harrington.”
He was parked in a dark corner of the cul-de-sac, blocking out any streetlight. The only reason he’d been able to recognise the artful swoop of hair was due to the residual glow from Tina’s Halloween Bash that had completely cleaned out his stock. It was going to comfortably pay his and Wayne’s electricity bill for the winter months ahead.
With maybe a little left over for a couple of new tapes if he was lucky.
If it had been anyone else he’d probably have been more careful in his approach but Steve never got physical in school. Even if he chose tonight to start throwing drunken punches, Eddie was pretty sure he’d be able to fend him off. 
He wasn’t as strong as Steve but he was stone cold sober and knew how to take care of himself.
Eddie didn’t even really have to try to be mean and scary half the time, his look did it enough for him.
Steve had been leaning up against the side of the van with his head in his hands but Eddie’s approach must have been muffled by the thumping music coming from the house because the way he startled at the sound of Eddie’s knocking was borderline panicked.
A little over the top, to be honest.
Like he expected some monster to appear out of the shadows.
Steve glanced at him but just as quickly turned his back, swiping furiously at his face and Eddie got the distinct impression he’d interrupted something private. It immediately put him on edge.
These traditional masculinity jock types always got very defensive if they were caught being vulnerable. Like a single shred of emotion would shrink their dick.
“I’m not here to buy, I’m-” Steve sniffled again, wiping his nose harshly on his sleeve. “Sorry, I just needed a minute, I’m leaving.” His voice was thick from crying and he in no way tried to hide it.
Eddie frowned. 
He didn’t really know what to do with that reaction, it wasn’t what he was expecting at all. But he figured if Steve could be gracious enough not to snap and spit at him, Eddie could be gracious enough not to make things worse.
“Don’t worry about it, man. If you need a minute, take a minute.”
Steve shook his head. “No, it’s fine-” he was cut off as he tried to step away but had clearly misjudged where the curb was in the darkness, tripping over it and landing hard on his back in the bushes. 
He leaned forward, trying to pull himself back up but went completely slack again a second later.
“Well that’s just fucking typical.” Steve muttered.
Eddie tried hard to keep any hint of a smirk or smile off his face as he moved to hover over him, still trying to keep the mood light.
“You good?”
Steve flapped a loose hand in his direction. “I’m fine. Just leave me here to die.”
Eddie did smile at that and held a ringed hand out to him. “Dramatics are usually my job.”
Steve clapped his hand into Eddie’s and allowed himself to be hauled up to a sitting position. 
Eddie considered for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him and he threw himself down onto the concrete.
The coldness of the curb immediately bit through his jeans. There’d probably be a freeze tonight. He could see their breath fog up in between them and the van they were now shadowed behind as he tapped out two cigarettes from his pack and offered one over.
Steve looked surprised for a moment, or Eddie guessed he looked surprised. They were both still drenched in mostly darkness, so Eddie couldn’t see much of his face. 
Steve took the cigarette with a soft, “Thanks.” 
Lighting up he took a deep inhale before rubbing at his eyes again with the heel of his hand, though it seemed to be more out of tiredness than continued tears.
He sniffed again and let out a heavy sigh. 
“Are you going to ask about it?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.” Eddie shrugged. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. No. I don’t know-” Steve’s words died in his throat when he looked up, eyes sliding from Eddie’s face and landing over his shoulder.
Eddie twisted around and caught sight of Jonathan helping a stumbling Nancy out of the house with nervous hands and a worried brow.
“I’m guessing it has something to do with that?” He asked, turning back.
Steve tracked the two of them with his eyes before looking back down at the ground and saying quietly, “Yeah, something like that.”
“You’re not worried about someone else taking your very intoxicated girlfriend home?”
Steve shook his head inhaling another large drag from his cigarette. “No, not with Byers. She’s safe with him, she-” he sighed. “Don’t think she’s my girlfriend anymore anyway.”
Well it didn't take much more than that to paint a picture in Eddie's head of what had happened. 
The whole town had known about the fight between Jonathan and Steve last year following the spray painting and subsequent clean up of The Hawk in which Nancy had very much not sided with Steve on it, though who could blame her. 
People had expected him to drop her like a lead balloon after that but he hadn’t. He’d shocked everyone by starting up with her again, but now it looked like those issues had never really been resolved.
Eddie watched Steve’s silhouette carefully, ready for the moment he’d just up and start punching whatever was in reach like a good little testosterone driven toddler, but he just looked… defeated.
“You’re… handling it remarkably well.” He hedged, apprehensive.
“For now.” Steve tilted his head back to look up at the stars, his breath curling out white and foggy in the cold. “It’ll probably hit me tomorrow.”
Eddie wanted to reach a hand out, grip at his shoulder, offer a comforting touch but boys didn’t touch. And if they did, they only did it after reaching a certain level of friendship, which they were not at.
So he kept his hands to himself.
“Well I’d offer you something to take the edge off, but I’m afraid I’m all out.”
Steve shook his head. “No, you’re okay. Distraction and a cigarette is good enough for me. Plus you can’t just go around offering charity to anyone who crosses your path, people will try to take advantage.”
“You think I’d let people take advantage of me?” Eddie said with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Steve snored. “No, I suppose not. You’ve got your whole,” he waved his hand in Eddie’s direction, “bad boy rough and tough… look.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows and laughed around his cigarette. “Hey, don't disparage the look, Harrington. It works.”
“M not disparaging, it’s a good look.”
“Oh, really? Didn’t think it’d be your type of thing.”
Steve glanced over at him, his eyes mischievous and ever so slightly hooded. “You’ve no idea what my type of thing is, Munson.”
Wait.
Was that a line?
Was Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington flirting with him? Him? 
Maybe Steve had too much to drink. 
He was obviously heartbroken by whatever was going on with Nancy so maybe it was just some kind of catharsis or a joke or-
A shrill ring cut through the air, sharp and splitting.
Eddie snapped his head up.
Steve didn’t react.
There was a rotary phone hanging off the side of his van, teal with a twisted cord.
And it was ringing.
Loudly.
It was like a spell had been broken, the shrill screaming of ringringring filled Eddie with a wild panic, a wild fear, shooting through his head and setting his blood alight.
He turned his wide eyes back to Steve who was now looking up at the phone with loose shoulders and a calm face. 
The darkness didn’t matter anymore, he knew with exact, intimate detail what look Steve had right now.
He’d been back here often enough after all.
“Stevie, don’t answer it.” Eddie’s panic was edging into desperation.
His time was running out. 
There was an overwhelming sense of loss inside him, mixed up with devastation, heartbreak and sadness.
He was slipping.
He was slipping away.
Again.
“I have to.”
“No, you don’t.” Eddie shook his head frantically, grasping Steve by the shoulders. “You don’t have to.” 
He swung his leg over, sitting himself firmly in Steve’s lap and placed a hand at either side of his face, practically begging him. “Just a little longer. Please, baby, please.” 
It was like he was imploring Steve to look inside at his beating, bloody heart, pleading with him to let them both stay. His tone was frantic and he could feel his soul cracking to pieces, clinging on as if he could keep Steve here just with his grip alone.
“It’s about Max.” Steve stated, matter of fact.
Eddie leaned forward and placed kiss after kiss in quick succession against Steve’s face. “You don’t have to answer it yet.” He said, a thick sob crawling its way up his throat, trying to change the inevitable. 
His vision was starting to blur with tears and the lump in his throat felt like he’d swallowed a fucking golf ball. “Not yet. You can- you can answer it later. Please. Stevie. Baby. Sweetheart. We could-” He threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders, holding him as tight and close as he possibly could, as though his grip could keep them both here. 
His tears were finally slipping free and his heartbreak cresting into complete and utter anguish. “We could go hang out with Robin or… or…”
“I haven’t met Robin yet, Eds. You know that.” Steve’s hand came up to softly cradle the back of his head as Eddie’s tears clung to Steve’s neck where they fell and he wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. “I have to answer it.”
The next sob that came felt like it had torn his whole body in half, shaking him to his core, ripping him in two. 
“Just a few more minutes.” He begged. “Please. Please don’t go.” He whispered, tremulous and defeated as the soft click of the receiver being picked up sounded around him and he awoke with a start.
Eddie took a few moments to collect himself, swiping furiously at his eyes with his bedsheets, hating himself for crying and trying to will the lump in his throat away. 
His heart was aching and he knew despite his best efforts he’d be carrying it around with him for the rest of the day. 
He didn’t have nightmares like Dustin or Nancy did. He didn’t scream or thrash or claw, no.
He had these dreams. 
He wept in his sleep, crying until he was dried out and exhausted upon waking up but he wouldn’t trade them in for anything.
At least with these dreams he could still…
Nevermind.
It wasn’t important. 
He had too much shit to deal with today to spend time mourning the past. 
The past was dead and there was nothing he could do about it now. 
He just had to keep moving forward.
For Wayne, for Dustin, for Mike and El and Will, for the Sinclair parents and the Buckley parents and Ms. Mayfield.
He tried to focus on the issues of the day.
Their food surplus was getting dangerously low and there hadn’t been a supply drop from the military in weeks, though their own vegetable crop was still growing strong.
Chester Hagen and his goons were still giving Nancy trouble. 
They needed extra hands to get their fence back up again and those bandits were still out there. 
They might have been scared away by Dustin and Scott’s genius and deadly electrical wiring but they weren’t going to stay away for long. 
Their settlement was way too valuable an asset to have under their belts from a defensive standpoint alone and if Chester Hagen or the fucking bandits were able to seize control it could be catastrophic.
And that’s not even mentioning the fucking Ghouls.
Their bright red eyes were always the first thing visible through the darkness of the forest, followed closely by the smell of decay. 
They kept to the shadows, unnervingly quiet considering they were the shambling corpses of those caught in the crossfire of the rifts opening up. 
They were able to sneak up on even the most alert of people, getting close enough to strike, cutting a gnarled claw into their victims skin and paralysing them, ready to be feasted upon silently and unable to scream.
If someone was unlucky enough to die from a bite, rather than claws ripping their flesh from their bones and bleeding out, they’d come back a few hours later, dead and mindless, driven by the need to consume.
It was so incredibly fucked up.
Nearly everyone had had a run in with someone they had known once in life.
Hawkins had been a very small town after all and the Ghouls were drawn to their walls, the noise their small community made within their safe refuge amongst the trees like a shining noise beacon.
The creatures were easy to pick off though, high up in the communities man made sentry towers Eddie had suggested way back when, but the community could never get too complacent.
The Ghouls were still a very real threat.
The two bodies that had to be brought home and buried after the last trip to maintain the water tower made that clear enough.
Two more plots in their makeshift graveyard at the edge of what was once a golf course.
Fuck, they needed food. At least something more than the rationed out vegetables they were able to grow, something similar to the comforts they knew before everything went to shit.
Some sugar, some salt, even a bit of fucking meat.
They hadn’t been hunting too much lately, it was getting more and more dangerous to leave the walls. 
Everyone was running on fumes and it was making them sloppy. 
Their sentries were having trouble concentrating, their medical personnel had started to feel they couldn’t perform their duties safely anymore, their smartest minds were waning. 
Eddie dragged himself out of bed. 
No time to huddle in for warmth and wish for a different day than the one he was facing down, too many people were waiting on him, relying on him.
He did allow himself to drift a hand over the pillow he kept on the other side, though.
His side, though it had always been empty, ever since they first arrived at this estate, ever since Eddie first slept in the bed, nine months ago.
Fourteen months since the end. 
Fourteen months since... 
No.
Stop thinking about it.
Too much to do today.
He shook his head again, stripping down bare and stopping in front of the mirror. 
He was leaner than he had been before all this began. 
Fourteen months of surviving an apocalypse would do that to a person. 
His hair was longer and still just as messy as ever. His skin was blocked out with more self-inflicted tattoos. Mostly the result of sleepless nights and downtime by candlelight when the memories sometimes got to be too much and he just had to get them out, get them onto skin, carry them on the outside rather than leave them to fester on the inside. 
There was an illustration of Smaug from the books, done to the best of his memory on his right knee. Shitty interpretations of his guitar, a slice of pizza, a walkie talkie, trucker hats, mugs, guitar picks and music notes littered his arms. The old hellfire logo and the Corroded Coffin logo inked into his chest where his demon head and black widow had once been, now in the stomach of some long dead demobat somewhere. 
Those had hurt like a bitch.
Almost as bad as the two quotes on the inside of his thighs.
I had not intended to love him on the inside of his left.
He made me love him without looking at me on the inside of his right. 
Eddie scratched at his jaw in the mirror. He needed a shave but that could wait, he couldn’t be fucked dragging a razor over his face right now.
The shower was icy cold. He barely remembered what bathing in warm water felt like anymore. Positives and negatives to having a steady water supply from the reservoir on top of the hill, but no electricity.
At least they were all able to keep clean.
He barely bothered to dry off, dumping his towel in the laundry hamper he’d probably forget to bring down to their approximation of a laundrette, again.
He snatched up some clothes from his dresser, dark and sturdy, just how he liked them.
Dark jeans, dark top, high quality boots that he found in the abandoned house he and Wayne were now living in and though the July sun had been vicious and unrelenting, he needed the comfort of the familiar.
The only things of his own that had survived were what he had on him when they’d run. His necklace, his bracelet, his wallet chain, even though he hadn’t had need of a wallet for over a year, wasn’t even sure where in the world it was. But he added them too, feeling more like himself with every piece he put on.
He snatched up the rifle he kept loaded and tucked between the bed frame and the wall every night, slinging the strap over his shoulder and was about to head out of his bedroom when he paused, gripping the door handle tight.
He hated giving into the urge but if this was the day he died, he knew he’d regret not doing it.
With a put upon sigh, he let go of the door handle and turned back into his room, opening his closet door and looking at the only item of clothing hanging in there.
Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over the back shoulders, feeling the raised lettering of the name across his fingertips and ran a hand down the sleeve, gripping the cuff.
Before he could stare at green and white for too long and allow the sorrow to wash over him again, he let go and shut the closet door.
The house he and Wayne had managed to lay claim to was one of the smaller ones but that didn’t bother them. 
Hell, it was practically Eddie’s own now that Wayne was spending most nights with Scott. 
In any case the house was close to exactly who he wanted to be close to. 
The Hoppers-Byers clan lived directly behind him, the fence blocking their gardens from each other long broken down by El. Dustin and his mother lived to one side of him, Nancy and her family on the other. Across the road lived the Sinclair parents, Susan Mayfeild and the Buckley parents, along with the various friends and family members of those that hadn’t been seen since before everything went to shit, trying to find comfort in their numbers.
They’d tried to convince Dustin, Mike, Will and El to join them in their support group but those kids weren’t the types to sit around and talk about their feelings. 
They were the types to throw themselves into some new experiment or dig their way through The Void trying to find a new way forward.
But no such luck so far.
Eddie had stopped asking.
He trudged his way through the streets of what was once a very affluent gated community but had now become their own little post apocalypse village. 
How quaint, he thought, sardonically.
He headed towards what was a rec centre once upon a time but had since been repurposed as their collective dining hall.
During the good times when food stockpiles were high people could come and go as they pleased, getting fed whenever the desire took them, maybe even being able to make a request of what they wanted to eat.
But in times like these, when the variety of food was dangerously low, mealtimes were strictly regimented to make sure everyone got an equal share. 
As he waited in line, his stomach growling with the smell wafting from the kitchens, the people around him sent him warm smiles and friendly greetings, some even trying to engage him in small talk.
Crazy how an actual apocalypse can change attitudes.
“What’s on the menu today, Joyce?” Eddie asked when he got to the front of the line. 
His smile didn’t feel as strained as it had been before. Joyce always managed to bring some light out in him. 
“Only the finest potato stew for one of our fearless leaders.” She replied with a sneaky smile, pushing a bowl of watered down lumpy stew towards him.
Eddie glared at her but without much substance behind it, picking up his bowl. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
Joyce awed playfully, reaching over to pinch his unscarred cheek. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t pull such an adorable face whenever I do.”
Eddie rolled his eyes and turned away, calling back over his shoulder, “Bye Joyce.”
“Bye sweetie!”
He sat himself down at an empty table as far away from everyone else as he could, hoping to just be able to eat his meal in peace before the demands of everyone and everything started to surround him.
He only got about two bites in before a sour faced figure sat himself down across from him.
Eddie didn’t even bother to look up.
“I’m not in the mood, Hagen.”
Chester Hagen was a man who looked like he might have been attractive in his youth if he didn’t constantly have a sulk on his face and a sickening air of superiority around him.
“Just hear me out, Munson. I know you feel like you owe the Wheeler girl your loyalty-”
Eddie snapped his eyes up. “I don’t owe Nancy anything. She has my loyalty because she’s earned it. Something I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with.”
“Don’t you think this place could use some actual leadership? Not just some little girl playing politics.”
Eddie sighed heavily and continued to shovel his food into his mouth, trying to have this conversation finished as fast as he could. “And you think that’s you, do you? Might I remind you that everyone here,” he waved his hand around, “including you and your luddites elected her as leader, because she was one of the few who knew how to actually handle everything.”
“That was then. Now we’re starving. The military doesn’t respect her, why else wouldn’t we be getting our drops on time? The people are upset and they’re starting to talk. And need I remind you I was an acting town official for years. I ran for Mayor-”
Eddie lifted the bowl to his mouth, slurping down the last of his food. “And you lost.” He winced in mock sympathy, standing up. “To Larry Kline of all people. Ouch.”
He left to hand his bowl back over to be cleaned, praying that he wouldn’t be followed but that was apparently too much to hope for. He’d barely made it outside before he heard the heavy footsteps following him.
Eddie darted around the corner of the building, striding down the small gap between the dining hall and their makeshift medical centre, only stopping once he was sure Hagen had followed him in.
“Munson, if she has something over you that makes you think you can’t switch to the better team then you’ve got to know we can help you out. No matter what it is. You have a lot of respect in this community, we could use that. And you wouldn’t be stuck acting as some little girls guard dog-”
Eddie swung around, pressing the barrel of his rifle into Chester Hagan’s neck, backing him into the wall. Hagen immediately threw his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide with fear, looking like he was about to piss himself.
“What if I like being a little girl's guard dog, what then?”
Eddie and Nancy didn’t exactly see eye to eye. She still held onto some middle class, small town politeness and nothing Eddie said, trying to get her to accept the brutality of the world they were living in now would dissuade her. 
But she was an effective leader. And she was one of the people who had kept him alive during the spring break from hell.
There was no way he was going to sell her out to Chester fucking Hagan.
Hagen swallowed, shifting the muzzle ever so slightly around his throat. “S- so is it a sex thing? Because I’m sure we could find-”
“For the sake of your own head I’m encouraging you to stop talking now.”
“Right, right. Yeah. I’m… I’ll stop talking.”
“Good. Now listen to me very carefully. Under no circumstances whatsoever will I be persuaded, coerced, bought or bullied away from Nancy’s side. This town voted her their leader and unless the majority no longer wants her overlooking things, it’s going to stay that way.” He pushed the barrel of the gun in harder, right under his jaw. “But if I ever get approached by you or one of your goons trying to get me to switch sides or go behind Nancy’s back for information again, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your eye. We both know I’ll do it and I won't lose a wink of sleep over it."
"Th- pe- people won't like that."
"Oh, won't they? Tell me, who do you think the people will side with between the two of us? It's why you keep trying to get me to join your side. Because you know you don't have shit without my support. Like you said, I have a lot of respect in this community.” 
“B- but you two fight, you fight all the time! We can hear it clear across the estate! We can-” Eddie dug the gun in just a little deeper. “Do not approach me again. Do I make myself clear?”
Hagen nodded, short and sharp and scared. “Crystal clear, Munson. Sir.”
“Good.” Eddie pulled the gun away from his neck and slung it back over his shoulder, walking down the rest of the alleyway before calling back, “Clean up, it smells like you shit yourself.”
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“Can a girl get pregnant if she’s on top?”
Eddie dropped the metal sheet they were using to repair the hole in the fence, just barely managing to avoid crushing his toe. The noise clanged around them like a dinner bell. He and Dustin were outside the protective walls of the community for this particular repair and they both froze, tensing up and waiting to hear if the sound had attracted any Ghouls or roving bandits towards them. They were barely in danger, there were sentries posted on high platforms around the whole perimeter but it was still something they wanted to avoid if they could.
Speaking of, they could hear someone climbing the platform from the inside before Jonathan poked his head over the eight foot wall, looking down on the two of them.
“Everything okay?”
Eddie took one last glance at the dense woods around them and let his shoulders drop, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket and looking back up.
“Yeah, sorry about that Jon. The kid just jumpscared me is all.”
“I literally just asked a question.” Dustin frowned at him.
“A sex question.” Eddie pointed out.
“I think I’ll take my leave, have fun with that!” Jonathan disappeared back behind the walls before Eddie could even glare at him.
“Why are you even asking me? And who are you planning on sexing up? You’re too young anyway. You’re a foetus.”
“I’m sixteen. And seriously? I thought you’d be more… open minded about this.” Dustin pouted. “Plus who else am I gonna ask? Hopper, Jonathan? I can’t go to the library, they don’t exist anymore and I can’t ask-” Dustin swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check and failing. “Steve’s not here.” He whispered.
Eddie’s heart gave a painful thud, like it always did whenever Steve was mentioned. Whenever Eddie thought of him, really.
It usually led to him trying not to think of him, which made him feel guilty, like he was trying to forget. Which then made him sadder and angrier and more hopeless all at the same time. Because ‘forgetting’ implied Eddie would never see him again. It implied that Steve was… gone. 
And he just couldn’t accept that.
But trying to avoid thoughts of Steve often left Dustin in the lurch. He knew it did. 
Who else could the kid talk to about this? Not Jonathan or Hopper or Joyce or Wayne or Claudia. None of them knew Steve like Dustin did. Not even Nancy had known him very well by the end.
Will and El had been the two kids who’d interacted with Steve the least when they were all together. Before. And Mike had too much ‘ex-boyfriend to his sister’ attitude about him to really talk to Steve back then, always assuming there’d be more time.
Maybe he could talk to Richard and Melissa Buckley. They were the parental connection Steve never had, Eddie knew that. Steve had told him that himself.
But there was too much of an age gap.
And the rest of their Upside-Down crew were in the same boat Steve was. 
Not here. 
They hadn’t been seen or heard from in over fourteen months.
Robin, Max, Lucas, Erica… 
Missing.
Not gone. 
Never gone.
Just… missing.
Dustin shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, can we just talk about the sex like scientists? Not make it weird with squiggly feelings?”
Eddie smirked, but nodded, happy to avoid the subject of Steve for a little longer.
“Sure thing, kiddo. To answer your question, yes. A girl can get pregnant from literally every penis in vagina position. And she can get pregnant if she’s on her period. And if it’s her first time.”
Dustin huffed, throwing his arms out at his sides. “Then how is anyone supposed to have sex without getting someone pregnant in the apocalypse?”
Eddie snorted, picking back up his metal sheet. “Why do you think there's been so many babies born here since it started?”
“Unsafe practices?”
Eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at Dustin. “Unsafe practices.”
“Well…” Eddie could hear Dustin drumming his fingers against his baseball bat, apparently contemplating something. He took a big breath in. “What have you been doing?”
Eddie nearly dropped the sheet again. “Me?”
“Yeah? How have you been having sex without getting anyone pregnant?”
Eddie blew out a breath, busying himself with finally securing the sheet. He’d probably end up nearly dropping it again if he didn’t. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been.”
“Having sex?” Dustin asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” Eddie closed his eyes, bracing for all the usual questions. “I haven’t been having sex.”
“Why? Are you celibate? Are you waiting till marriage or something?”
“No…” He shook his head. “I just…”
“You do like girls, right?”
Dustin’s tone wasn’t accusatory or derogatory, just curious.
Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You go around asking people dangerous questions like that often, Henderson?”
“No. I’m not an idiot. Didn’t feel like a dangerous question to ask you. You don’t feel dangerous.” Dustin scowled. “Are you?”
Eddie allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up. “No, kid. I’m not dangerous. And to answer your question…” he shrugged. “Yeah. I like girls just fine.”
Dustin watched him closely, eyes darting between Eddie’s own. “But you don't prefer them?”
Eddie nodded. “Correct.”
Dustin nodded as well. “Okay. So you're like Will?”
“Not exactly. I like people… but I tend to lean towards the more… masculine side of things.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, animals do it all the time right? Why would it be different for people? People are just animals with bigger brains and a higher endurance.”
“Debatable.”
“Scientific fact.”
Eddie sighed. “Suppose you’re right.”
“So… do you just not feel safe trying to find someone in an apocalypse or is there someone…?”
“From before?”
Dustin swallowed. Talking about pre-apocalyptic relationships was always heavy. Especially if they… weren’t here. 
“Yeah.” He agreed. “From before.”
“Yeah. I had someone. Have someone.” Eddie couldn’t look at him, continuing to work on the fence, unable to stomach the pitying looks he’d seen people get, people who still had hope they’d be reunited with their loved ones even after all this time. 
People like the Sinclair parents, the Buckley parents and Ms. Mayfield.
No one knew he was also one of those people.
And if he got his way, no one would ever know.
He didn’t need the fucking pity.
He didn’t think he could bear it if Dustin muttered out the dreaded, “I’m sorry.” 
But as always, the kid was full of surprises. “What’s his name?” It felt very deliberate, to ask what’s his name and not what was his name. Present tense. Intentional.
Eddie smirked to himself. A small little private thing, just for him. 
“Ken.”
There was the sound of shuffling as Dustin hummed. “I don’t think I know a Ken.”
“No.” Eddie replied. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
AO3
So…
Hello!
I am back! I am officially bring my break to an end and that is a terrifying concept but I'm gonna do it anyway! Updates on this fic will be a little more sporadic than my previous ones as I get back into the swing of things but I am so happy to be back and I hope you enjoy this story! 🥰
Fic title and lyrics from Through The Valley by Shawn James but it was this version by Ashley Johnson as Ellie that truly captured me.
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
@geekymagicalpotato
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intothedysphoria · 6 months
Text
Steve managed to accidentally crush his headphones over the weekend, so he reluctantly turned to Billy Hargrove for help.
Steve and Billy hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts, considering they beat the crap out of each other within the week. Billy has mellowed out significantly since Neil had left though, so Steve told himself to grow some balls and walked into the general repair shop Billy worked at.
The death metal blasting from the speakers was obnoxious but there was basically nobody there so Steve was able to swallow down the rising panic creeping up his throat. Billy was just some guy. He’d move back to California come the new year and Steve’s life would be exactly the same as it had always been. At least that’s what he told himself.
Billy raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Steve tripping over the step on his way up then stammering his way through an apology. His headphones lay sadly tucked under arm, limp and lifeless.
Actually getting the word autism out was harder than Steve anticipated. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to telling other people or maybe it was because he found Billy very attractive and he knew what happened whenever anyone he liked found out.
The curl of the lip. The sneer. The asking if he was like mentally five or something.
He managed to stumble his way through explaining that they were his sensory aides and they really helped him not get overwhelmed in public and please don’t punch me again Hargrove.
Billy didn’t punch him, much to Steve’s great surprise. Instead he mumbled something about be right back Harrington and disappeared into the staff only area, only to return with a brand new pair which he thrust into Steve’s hands.
“I get it Harrington. Just take these, you busted yours pretty badly. On the house.”
Steve was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned briefly and then attempted to exit the shop after pushing on a pull door.
Billy had been pretty civil with him. So either it was all some great prank that was about to fall on his head or Steve may have misjudged him just a little.
He didn’t risk reaching out again until a month later when he’d really managed to fuck his oven up and gave himself a five minute mantra about being confident before dming Billy on Instagram asking for help.
A message came back in a minute asking what the fuck he’d managed to do. Steve insisted he had no idea then he just got a short, blunt “on my way princess.”
Billy’s tool box was extensive. As much as Steve would have wished, that wasn’t an innuendo. He just had a lot of kit, probably more than was needed for the actual state of the oven.
They hung out a bit while Billy tinkered, threw out jargon that Steve didn’t understand, then declared it was fixed. Steve resolutely tried not to stare at a peach ass in very tight denim. He may have failed.
A comfortable silence fell afterwards until Steve panicked and asked if he wanted a coffee. It only seemed polite. Billy had been working all afternoon pretty much.
How that ended in them snuggled onto the sofa, Steve couldn’t exactly remember. All he could really register was that Billy’s arms were warm and strong and Steve wished he could just stay there.
Then he snuggled in further and Billy stiffened up. Crap. He’d fucked up somehow.
Steve pulled himself back up into a sitting position, self consciously checking his hair. Billy looked slightly bewildered but more at himself than Steve.
“You…………you alright man? I didn’t push you too far right?”
He got a slow blink in response and being pulled back into a muscular chest. Steve just hoped he wasn’t doing his “simp face”, as Robin had named it.
“Steve”
Ok first name was not a good sign. Prepare for a fist.
“I fucking like you ok? Don’t laugh. I’ve liked you ever since I first set eyes on you, you beautiful oblivious bastard.”
And Steve. Steve had always kind of hated romcoms. They were dumb and clishe and the couples who got together by the end never really made sense.
But looking at Billy’s slightly flushed face and after hearing his confession, Steve thought the romcom route might be the best way to go.
Billy really was a very good kisser.
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mistydeyes · 1 year
Text
miss americana: gaz edition
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series summary: The 141 has varying thoughts about Americans which range from finding them wildly entertaining to thinking they’re the worst people on earth. However you challenge their perspectives when you meet them. Something about you makes them feel a little more patriotic ;)
summary: When you finally move to the UK, there are a few things that confuse you and Gaz is more than happy to help out! From realizing cars are not automatic to the different colloquialisms, he enjoys clarifying the differences in culture.
pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x American!Reader
warnings: none
a/n: FINALLY something that I don’t have to do research on because I’m from the US🦅🎆 I have other parts planned to this as well!
also these are 100% inspired by all the questions I ask @lundenloves, she entertains my constant surprise and shock lol
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Whenever you go out with Gaz you ask him to “translate” for you.
When you first walked the rainy London streets with Gaz, you felt like a toddler with all of your questions. "Why does that stationary store have a sale on condoms?" you asked, confused, as you directed his attention to the sign that displayed a sale on rubbers. "You mean erasers?" he corrected, laughing. Next was when you saw a store you liked and immediately directed him inside, saying you needed pants. Despite how cute you looked while shopping, he had to correct you saying they were trousers and that pants had a very different meaning. Finally, the most egregious example was when you went to a restaurant and ordered biscuits to accompany your savory dish of soup. Once the waiter laughed in response, you looked at Gaz confused. "A biscuit is not like what you get in the Southern US, it's more of a cookie," he explained as you flushed with embarrassment. You would have to do some research next time and consult your British tour guide.
You’re an absolute menace when he goes to the grocery store or what he calls the grocers. You will go up and down the aisles, picking up whatever you fancy.
"Where are those chocolate oranges?" you demanded as you went down the aisle with Gaz. He pushed the cart, or trolley as he called it, which was already filled with a variety of snacks. Anything that looked distinctly British and that you knew you couldn't get at home, went in the cart. He had to hold you back from getting biscuits and crumpets. "Do you think we're having a tea party?" he joked as you waddled back with your selection. "Can we?" you asked, excitedly, and Gaz knew you were going to spend another 30 minutes in the tea aisle. "Let's just find you some Terry's and then we can consider getting tea," he corrected and you pulled the cart rapidly ahead. "I'm going to buy a whole orchard of those oranges."
Later on, you did buy a bushel worth of oranges and Gaz gently rubbed your stomach after you ate two entire ones. "They're just so good," you mumbled before you regretted the lactose coursing through your digestives.
Sometimes you’ll entertain him with distinctly American experiences.
"Did I ever tell you I was going to join a sorority in college?" you mused as you sat on the couch. He looked down at you before replying. "A what?" he questioned and you laughed. "You're telling me you've never heard of Greek life!" you exclaimed as he shook his head. You sat up for this fun explanation. "Essentially, if you're a girl you join a sorority and you spend like 4 days meeting the sister, trying to get them to like you, and then you're given a bid," you explained, he nodded as if this wasn't a foreign concept to him. "Then you all gather, usually in a football stadium or field, and they call your name as well as the sorority you're in and you run towards them." At that, he looked in horror. "It sounds cultish," he remarked and you lightly punched his arm. "It's cute! Everyone dresses up in different themes like 'Las Vegas' or 'Teddy Bears'," you smiled but he still shook his head, "it's the hazing that's cultish."
You will always insist on driving but Gaz remembers the one time he let you drive.
"Kyle, just let me drive!" you exclaimed as he beat you to the car door. In all honesty, you were a little used to being on the passenger side back at home but nevertheless, you were annoyed at his constant insistence at driving. "No," he simply said, "need I remind you what happened last time." The minute he said that you remembered the first time he tried to let you drive. First, you were surprised it was a stick shift rather than an automatic but it was nothing to worry about. It took you a few streets to get used to the changing gears but Gaz still had confidence in you. It wasn't until you pulled into a shopping center and started driving on the wrong side of the road that he made you park and take over. "It wasn't that bad!" you exclaimed, buckling into the passenger seat. "Love, my life flashed before my eyes."
He’ll make fun of you when you order coffee with a smile and try to make a friendly conversation with the barista.
As you entered the coffee shop, you were easily the happiest one there. It was 7 am and even Gaz wasn't as cheery as you are. "Good morning, how are you?" you smiled at the young barista. She returned your smile and eased her tired shoulders. "I'm doing alright, what are you having today?" she replied and you took a minute to think. “Just a cup of coffee for him,” you replied, pointing at Gaz. You pondered for a minute as you strained to look at the signs. "What do you think is good here?" you questioned and her eyes lit up as she began to list the options. "If you're looking for coffee, a cortado is my favorite, but I personally recommend trying our tea," she recommended and you nodded. "Hmm I'll take both," you cheerily replied, watching as she typed in your order. When you pulled out your wallet, you looked around curiously and the barista noticed your hesitation. "Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked before you looked up at her. "You don't have a tip jar here?" you wondered and she let out a laugh. "We don't, more of an American thing," she answered and you frowned slightly. You let her know to keep the change and waited patiently for your order at the end of the coffee bar. "You're too cute sometimes," Gaz said, kissing your forehead gently. He made sure to get a picture of you with your two cups, captioning it, "They finally got their cuppa!"
He helps you navigate the surprisingly easy currency and pricing system.
“Kyle I need more,” you corrected as he handed you a handful of notes. You had gone souvenir shopping in London but forgotten your wallet at his flat. “What do you mean, that’s enough,” he replied as he flipped over the postcards to check if he did his math correctly. “What about the tax? You forgot about that,” you said triumphantly and he laughed in response. “Oh this is one of your American things,” he said, his new favorite term to use, “Love, you pay what’s on the sticker.” Cue your shocked face as you couldn’t fathom the moment of anticipation as your items were rung up at home. On the ride home, you were sure to explain to Gaz the ins and outs of the different taxes including that there was no clothing tax in Minnesota, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Vermont. “I cannot believe you don’t know how much you’re paying when you go up to the till,” he remarked, shaking his head in dismay. “The what?”
There are some disagreements on the meaning of different words (especially ones that you both share but mean two completely different things).
On a rare day, the entire 141 was free, and Gaz decided to introduce you to them. You returned back from the grocers and were surprised when Gaz began preparing a late lunch. “We’re not going to eat at the bar?” you asked, noticing him turning the stove on. “No, no they don’t have food there,” he corrected as your face turned to confusion, “what do you think the bar is?” Upon your explanation of an American bar with cheap drinks and greasy food, Gaz laughed and kissed your cheek gently. “If you want to go to a pub, I can just let them know the change of plans. There’s plenty around,” he responded and went to put the items back in the fridge.
When you arrived at the lively pub, Gaz made sure to sit you next to Soap so you could listen better to his thick accent. While you appreciated the gesture, the Scotsman still spoke a mile a minute. Despite your initial uneasiness, you soon fell into lively conversation and entertained everyone with your stories from college and things you found differently in the UK. "I think the time zone was the biggest issue," you said in response to Ghost's question about your transition to living abroad, "although, the lack of ceiling fans was interesting." They all laughed in response before Gaz interjected. "Tell them about when you ordered a baked potato," he joked and your eyes immediately lit up before you went into a long conversation about your experience. As everyone laughed at your bewilderment at the lack of serving the side with bacon, cheese, and sour cream, Gaz looked at you fondly, his favorite American.
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thewalkingthread · 6 months
Text
you're losing me - r.g. (part 2)
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part 1
pairing: rick grimes x reader
summary: you're adjusting to life after rick cheats on you
warnings: cursing, rick is an absolute lost puppy without you
author's note: i'm not sure what you guys were wanting in the part two in terms of resolution, but i wrote this with intentions of rick being a loser LOL BUTTTTTT, I can absolutely make an alternate ending where they work it out. but for now, boss babe Y/N.
-
It's been a month since you and Rick broke up. The day after you caught him and Jessie you packed all your stuff up and moved into Daryl's little cabin just outside the walls.
It was odd at first, being away from Rick. Being away from Carl and Judith. It was miserable. You were miserable.
You stayed in the cabin for a week straight, despite Daryl's several attempts to make you go into the walls with him during the day. Eventually he stopped, knowing you would face everyone when you were ready.
By everyone, you meant Rick.
Everyone caught on pretty fast considering you moved out of the house, out of the whole community. Maggie and Carol were the first to come see you and ask what happened.
It wasn't until Carl came knocking on the door with Judith on his hip that you decided to take that step and go back in to the walls.
According to Carl, everyone knows what happened. Everyone knows that Rick cheated. Everyone knows it was with Jessie- not like that was a surprise to anybody.
Your first day back inside was awful. Everyone kept giving you pity glances, knowing that you were the victim. You hated it. Yes, Rick cheated on you but you definitely didn't need anyone's pity.
You avoided Rick like the plague at first. Any sight of him you were turning the opposite direction. Whether you liked it or not, Rick is the leader of Alexandria- your leader.
You couldn't avoid him forever. But you sure as hell did your best.
Now a month later, you still weren't okay. Who would be after finding your boyfriend macking on another woman he told you not to worry about?
"I'm here to relieve you of your duties, madam." Abraham bowed deeply to you. You rolled your eyes, handing him the rifle.
"Thank you, kind sir." You laughed, heading down the ladder. Things were a bit easier now. People were acting normal towards you again, everyone was moving forward.
Well, not everyone.
Rick has made several attempts just to get you to glance at him, let alone speak to him. Despite him cheating on you with Jessie, you haven't seen them together since then. It seems that they broke off whatever they were.
It didn't matter though, the damage was done. The trust was broken.
You walked towards the pantry, needing to take note of the things we were running low on for the next run with Daryl.
Your footsteps slow down when you hear commotion by the pond. You see Carl and Ron a few feet apart from each other. You could tell just from their body language that things weren't alright.
You stopped, watching them for a second before deciding whether or not you should intervene. They're teenage boys, surely they can sort out their issues.
"Well your mom is a homewrecker!" Carl shouts at Ron. "She knew my dad and Y/N were in a relationship!"
Ron scoffs, raising an eyebrow at Carl. "It's not her fault your dad is a cheating pig! He chose to cheat on Y/N, sorry my mom's better."
Before you knew it, Carl was lunging himself at Ron. "Take it back, you little shit!" The two boys began to roll around in the grass, wrestling one another.
You ran towards them, other people stopping to witness the commotion.
"Y/N, is the best thing that's ever happened to my dad." Carl grunted, landing a punch to Ron's face.
"Carl!" You shout once you reach the boys. You pull on his shoulder, trying to tug him off of Ron. "Get off of him, Carl." You urge.
Much to your dismay, the boys continue to pull at each other, both trying to land a punch.
"What the hell-" You hear the all too familiar southern accent from behind you. You look around and see a small group of people gathered around. Jessie comes bursting through the wall of people, seeing her son on the ground with a black eye.
Rick manages to pull Carl off of Ron, pushes him back. You grab onto Carl, checking him over to see his bruises that were already forming.
"Do one of you want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Rick shouts at the two teenagers.
Both of the boys glare at each other, neither one of them saying anything. Rick glances around the area, "Nothing to see here." He shoots everyone a look. Everyone scatters except Jessie, who pulls her son off the ground.
"Carl?" He angles his head to his son once the crowd disperses.
Carl scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, son." Rick clenches his jaw. "You think this is acceptable be-"
Carl stops him before he can finish. "Oh save it, dad! Everything was fine. Everything was great! But you decided to cheat on Y/N and then everything went to shit!" Carl snaps.
“Carl-“
“No! Y/N left and now we’re all feeling emptiness! I’m feeling it, Judith is feeling it- You’re feeling it.”
"You want to talk about acceptable behavior?” Carl scoffs, nodding his head up at his dad. “Check yourself first." He shakes his head before walking away.
You stand there awkwardly. Rick glances at you as if to ask for an explanation. You cock an eyebrow at him and shrug your shoulders.
Carl has a point.
“He’s a smart kid,” You say smugly before heading away.
“Look, Y/N-“ you could hear Rick’s footsteps follow shortly behind you. His hand latched onto your elbow softly, halting you in your spot. “Can we talk… please.”
There was a desperation in his voice that you haven’t heard before. His eyes stared at you deeply, dark bags had formed beneath his eyes and the wrinkles on his face seemed deeper.
“I don’t really think there’s anything to talk about, Rick.” You shake your head at him.
His frown deepens. “There is, there’s so much we need to talk about. I- I need to say things. Explain myself-“
You raise an eyebrow at the scuffed up man in front of you. “Explain yourself? There’s nothing you can say that will justify you cheating on me.” Your voice raises slightly, causing the few surrounding people to glance at you two.
“Y/N, please. Can we just talk?” He glances around. “Somewhere private?”
You sigh deeply, glancing around the audience around you. “Fine.”
You turn on your heels, heading towards the house. Rick followed closely behind you, you could practically feel his breathe on your neck.
Carl was on the living room floor with Judith, playing with some blocks and dolls. His eyes lock on yours when you open the door, a smile spreads on his face before disappearing when he sees Rick step in behind me.
The father and son lock eyes before Rick nods his head towards the stairs. Carl rolls his eyes before pushing himself off the ground and stomping towards the stairs.
“Carl-“ Rick glares at the boy. You put your hands up to stop him.
“I’ll go talk to him,” you shush Rick quickly before following Carl up the stairs. He was on his bed, a comic book opened in his hand.
“Hey, you.” You smile at Carl as you knock on the door frame.
Carl sighs deeply when he sees you. “I’m not going to apologize for hitting, Ron.” He mumbles.
You laugh, head tilting backwards. “Oh, please. I wouldn’t want you to. The little shit deserved it.” You smile at him, stepping into his room. You sat at the end of his bed.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
Carl frowns, shutting the comic book and tossing it to the side.
“I miss you. We miss you.” He says. “It’s different without you. Judith doesn’t sleep through the night anymore, dad can’t cook for shit. The house is a mess, there’s no order.” He ranted on.
“Things between me and dad have been hard. He knows I’m angry with him and so there’s this weird tension between us.” He sighs.
You bite your bottom lip, hearing the frustration and tiredness in Carls voice.
“Do you think I should give him a second chance?” You ask Carl, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Honestly? No. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.” Carl shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be with something that makes you question their loyalty.”
“You know, no matter what happens with me and your dad… Our relationship will never change. I’ll always be here for you, Carl. No matter what.” You reach out, placing your hand on top of his to give it a good squeeze.
“Thank you for sticking up for me to the little brat.” You smile, lightening the mood. Carl gives you a smile, nodding his head.
“I guess I better get downstairs. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And hey, cut your dad some slack… what he did to me was wrong, but that’s an issue for me and your dad.”
Carl nods his head in defeat as you walk towards the door.
“Hey, Y/N.” You stop, turning back at the teenager.
“I meant what I said. He doesn’t deserve you.”
You give him a tight lip smile and nod your head before heading downstairs. You could hear Judith’s cries from the top of the stairs. Your heart instantly breaks at the sound.
Rick’s in the middle of the living room, bouncing Judith in his arms in an attempt to soothe her. Her cries seemed to get louder as soon as she saw you walking down the stairs.
Her cries turned into screams as she thrashed in Ricks arms.
“Ma!!” She cried, reaching for you. “Ma-maaa,” she screams between cries. Rick looks at you desperately as you approach the pair.
You reach for the toddler, your hands grazing Rick’s at the hand off. The screams instantly subsides once she’s in your arms. She hiccups as she clutches onto you.
Rick sighs and falls onto the couch. You sit at the opposite end of the couch, Judith lets her head rest on your chest, trying to calm down.
“Carl said she hasn’t been sleeping well,” You break the silence between you.
Ricks eyes squeeze shit as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “None of us have since you left,” he mumbles.
Your heart breaks a little at the thought. You don’t say anything after that, not really sure what to say. Rick shifts his body towards you and you really take in his current appearance.
He looked tired.
“I know I messed up,” he starts. “I know there’s nothing I can do to change what I did. But I want to fix this- I want to fix us.” The desperation stays in his voice.
“This past month has been absolute hell, without you. I’ve been- I’ve been miserable.”
Good.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you, I’m so sorry for ruining us. Please just let me make it right. Please give us another shot, Y/N.”
The way he was looking at you right now was almost enough to make you crack.
Almost.
"I can't," I said quietly. The room fell still. Silence enveloped us in a suffocating hug.
"I'm sorry, Rick. I can't." I repeated. I felt tears well up in my eyes, saying it out loud.
It's taken an entire month for me to even be able to look Rick in the eyes. I was a few begs away from giving in and taking him back.
He doesn't deserve you.
Carls words rang in your mind.
"I think you and I both know the end of our relationship began as soon as we stepped into this place." You frowned. "Whether you meant for it to happen or not, you allowed this place- Jessie, to drive a wedge between us." You sigh.
"You." You lock eyes with him. "Not me." You shake your head.
"I let it go on for a while. I forced myself to just deal with a lot of the stuff. The late nights, missing dinners, forgetting dates." The memories of you waiting endlessly for Rick caused a scowl to settle on your face.
"I really wanted us to work. I loved us. I thought we were it." A small chuckle leaves your mouth. "I would've lassoed the moon for you if I could. Even though you hurt me over and over again with each lie, I wanted to stay. Because I loved you with everything I am."
Rick's jaw clenches and his eyes are moving around the room repeatedly before settling onto yours sadly.
"Loved." His voice cracked.
You gave him a tight sad smile.
"I asked Carl if I should give you another chance." You clear your throat. "He said, no."
Rick tugged his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Said you don't deserve me."
Rick chuckles with a nod. "He's a smart kid," Rick echoes what you said earlier that day.
"I really did love you, Rick." You reach over, latching his hand in yours. "I'll always care for you. For the kids. Y'all have a special place in my heart." You nod, holding Judith close to you.
"Would you believe me if I said I do love you?" Rick cocked his head to the side. "That I'll spend every day of my life loving you even if you hate me." Something in his eyes tell you that he's being 100% honest.
You squeeze his hand 3 times.
"Thank you for everything." You offer him a smile. Despite better judgement, your body leaned towards him, capturing his lips with yours for one last time.
Rick sighed deeply, taking you in for the last time.
Rick watched as you got up to put Judith to sleep. Then he watched as the love of his life walked out the door because of his stupid mistakes.
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estellan0vella · 3 months
Text
Learning To Fight Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU
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You've always admired Sukuna's strength and skill. His dedication to boxing and working out is impressive, and the way he moves — all precision and power — is mesmerizing. You've watched him train countless times, each session a display of his expertise and hard work. But today, as you sit on the couch in your living room, an idea pops into your head.
"Kuna," you say, looking over at him. He's doing sit-ups on the floor and you can't take your eyes off of him.
"Yeah, babe?" he replies, glancing up at you.
"I want to learn how to defend myself. You know, just in case. Can you teach me some fighting moves?"
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "You want me to teach you how to fight?"
"Yes," you say, determined. "I want to be able to protect myself."
He leans back on his hands, considering your request. "Alright. Let's see what you've got. But first, I need to find you an opponent."
Before you can react, Sukuna gets up and heads to Yuji's room. Moments later, he returns with his little brother in tow. Yuji's eyes are wide with excitement, clearly thrilled to be included in whatever's about to happen.
"Suku, what are we doing?" Yuji asks, looking up at his brother with pure adoration.
"You, Yuji, are going to be Y/N/N's opponent," Sukuna announces, his grin widening.
You can't help but laugh. "Really, Kuna? You want me to fight a four-year-old?"
"Hey, don't underestimate him," Sukuna says, ruffling Yuji's hair. "He's tougher than he looks. Besides, it's good practice."
Yuji bounces on his feet, clearly excited about the idea. "Yeah! I can do it!"
Sukuna sets Yuji up in the middle of the living room, clearing some space by moving the coffee table. You stand opposite Yuji, trying to keep a straight face. The whole situation is absurd, but there's a part of you that's genuinely curious to see how this will play out.
"Alright, Y/N/N, first things first," Sukuna says, coming over to stand beside you. "Always keep your guard up." He demonstrates by raising his fists in front of his face, his stance solid and confident. You mimic his movements, raising your fists and trying to look serious.
"Good. Now, keep your feet shoulder-width apart," he instructs, nudging your legs into position. "Bend your knees a bit, stay light on your feet."
You follow his instructions, feeling a little silly but also excited. "Like this?"
"Perfect," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Now, let's start with a basic jab. Aim for Yuji's tummy. Not too hard, though."
Yuji giggles, clearly enjoying himself. "Come on, Y/N/N! I'm ready!"
You take a deep breath, focus, and throw an extremely light jab at Yuji's stomach. He laughs and dodges, surprisingly quick for a little kid. You can't help but laugh too, the whole scenario feeling more like a playful game than actual training.
Sukuna watches, arms crossed, a proud look on his face. "Not bad, babe. Now, try a cross punch. Twist your body, use your hips for power."
You try the cross punch, aiming for Yuji's tummy again. This time, he pretends to be hit, staggering back dramatically before falling onto the floor, laughing uncontrollably.
"Oh no! You got me!" Yuji exclaims, rolling around in fits of giggles.
You burst out laughing, the sound filling the room. Even Sukuna can't help but chuckle, shaking his head at his little brother's antics.
"Alright, alright," Sukuna says, pulling Yuji to his feet. "Let's try something else. Yuji, try to grab Y/N/N's arm."
Yuji nods, his face serious now as he reaches for your arm. You let him grab it, and Sukuna steps in to show you how to break free.
"Twist your wrist like this," Sukuna says, demonstrating the movement. "And pull away."
You follow his lead, twisting your wrist and pulling free from Yuji's grasp. It's surprisingly effective, and you feel a sense of accomplishment.
"Good job, baby," Sukuna says, giving you an approving nod. "Now, let's try it a few more times."
You practice the move several times, each time feeling more confident. Yuji is a great sport, playing along and giving you plenty of opportunities to practice. The living room is filled with laughter and playful banter, the atmosphere light and happy.
After a while, you take a break, collapsing onto the couch. Yuji climbs up next to you, still full of energy.
"Y/N/N, you're getting really good!" he says, his eyes shining with admiration.
"Thanks, Yuji," you say, ruffling his hair. "You're a great teacher."
Sukuna sits down on your other side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You did well, babe. Maybe next time, we'll take it up a notch."
You smile, leaning into him. "Thanks, Kuna. I had fun."
He kisses the top of your head, his expression softening. "Anytime, baby. Anytime."
As the evening wears on, you find yourself thinking about how lucky you are. Sukuna, with his tough exterior and hidden softness, and Yuji, with his boundless energy and infectious laughter — they're your family, your safe haven.
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spiritsonic · 2 months
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I loved Phantom Rider both in design and concept and if I'm not mistaken it was inspired by Kamen Rider, right? although he may also remind me a little of Protoman, could you tell me what the costume is made of and how it works? To me it looks like he's made of light or digitally materialized (which is a surprising feat for Eggman) and does the suit have low durability or can it be affected by electricity? since Surge gave an electric punch to the helmet, I know things can't be said to avoid spoilers, but does the suit have other functions that don't depend on Eggstreme Gear? like tools for self-defense? I would just love it if he continued to be a recurring character through something like Red X on Teen Titans
Yeah, the Phantom Rider was first inspired by Kamen Rider! Not really a specific specific series, though; I collected a bunch of suits I liked. Aaron Hammerstrom and Min Ho Kim did most of the actual designing, and they brought some influences of their own-- I think Protoman and other Megaman stuff was in there yes. Various Metal Sonic designs were pulled from, especially Metal 3.0 and the one from Sonic the Fighters; considering that the suit was made by Eggman for Sonic, it's natural that he'd pull from his Metal Sonic designs a bit. We've seen a handful of things that seem to be "hard light"-like creations in the series before; various platforms and roads, barriers, Phantom Ruby stuff (that's me speculating), etc. It's a bit of a leap for Eggman to harness it so handily, but not a huge one. The suit was made quickly so it isn't very durable; its primary purpose is to disguise, not protect. It can shield against some physical attacks but doesn't do great with energy, like we've seen with Surge's electricity.
As for if it'll reappear later on, who's to say? I know a lot of the comic team like it a lot, so never say never.
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vodika-vibes · 5 months
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Hi vod'ika
I'm pretty sure I saw a post saying your requests were open,
If they are please could I get Alpha 17(or fox, rex, wolffe) with some kinda civilian contractor, some kind of pining a lil bit of friends/coworkers to lovers vod teasing about this very obvious crush bit of feelings realisation (my favourite) (there can be smut or not up to you)
I love the way you write Alpha 17 especially but I don't mind really who you write it for!
The Edge Of Dawn
Summary: Alpha-17 doesn’t have friends. His job is to make sure that the cadets survive to adulthood, and that’s it. There’s absolutely no reason that he should be so comfortable with the civilian contractor who is in charge of teaching the cadets how to slice. But if Fordo doesn’t stop making smart comments, Alpha’s going to be down one vod.
Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader
Word Count: 1616
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Sorry that this took so long to get back to! It took me a while to come up with an idea that made me happy. I don't know if I followed your prompt to the letter, Alpha-17 doesn't do emotions well after all, but I think I'm happy with it!
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“Alpha,” There’s a small smile playing on her lips as she hops up to sit on the barricade next to the much taller man, a datapad hanging from one of her hands, “What a surprise to see you here!”
He spares her half a glance, and then focuses his attention back on the ARC trainees that he’s currently responsible for, “Yes. What a surprise. That you found me in my training room.”
She beams at him, unrepentant, “Your little ducklings seem to be doing well.”
“Don’t call them that.”
“Your tooka kittens.”
“Not that either.”
“Your-”
“Is there a reason you’re here, harassing me, and not in your office doing whatever it is the long-necks hired you for?” Alpha asks, finally pinning her with all of his attention.
“I missed you.”
“You saw me an hour ago, try again.”
“It’s been a whole hour since I’ve seen your smiling face-” She continues dramatically, only to yelp when Alpha takes a strand of her hair between two fingers and tugs on it. “Rude.”
“I can be ruder.” He counters bluntly. “What do you need?”
She lightly raps her knuckles on her datapad, “There’s something...but I think it can wait.” She finally says, “You could come to my quarters tonight.”
“That-” Alpha is cut off at the very telling sound of Fordo choking on his laughter. “Problem, vod?” He bites out.
Fordo tilts his head towards her, but doesn’t say anything. Though his shoulders are shaking with repressed laughter. And Alpha is seriously considering shooting him.
Instead he focuses his attention on her and flicks his fingers towards the door, “Beat it. I’m busy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Who isn’t? I mean it, Alpha. I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll come find you when I can.”
“Great!” She hops back to her feet and glances at her datapad for a moment, before she beams at him and motions for him to duck his head a little bit.
Alpha eyes her suspiciously for a moment, but does as she instructs. She presses her lips, soft and warm, against his cheek, before she turns and scurries out of the room.
He stares after her, jaw slightly slack, as his hand comes up to press against his cheek. And then he’s jolted out of his shock at the sound of Fordo laughing. Alpha decides to table his, admittedly conflicted, thoughts about the slicer who has wormed her way into his heart, and decides to turn his annoyance at Fordo onto the baby ARCs.
He’s always had an easier time working through his emotions physically, after all.
It’s later, much later, when Alpha is able to pull himself away from his work for long enough to go and hunt down the little slicer. And yes, he did ignore the knowing looks his vod’e were shooting him as he left his barracks.
They’ve been giving him shit about how he treats her for months now.
All of them claim that he obviously has a thing for her (one of his brothers used the word crush and Alpha kind of wanted to punch him for it). He disagrees.
He respects the hell out of her.
He wants to protect her from the long-necks, he doesn’t like the speculative way that they look at her sometimes. And yes, okay, he likes looking at her.
That doesn’t mean he has a thing for her.
Sure, maybe he’s had a stray thought about wondering what it would be like to kiss her. And maybe he’s wondered if her skin is as soft as it looks. And maybe he’s considered what she’d look like if she was pregnant before.
But that doesn’t mean anything.
It can’t mean anything.
He knocks on the door to her suite, and it slides open surprisingly fast. Fast enough that his hand is still raised when she drags him into her suite.
“Were you waiting?”
“Yes!” She slams her hand on the control panel, shutting and locking the door before she turns and hurries deeper into his suite.
There’s a strange humming noise coming from a small device sitting on her coffee table, and it takes Alpha a moment to recognize that it’s a jamming device. Slowly his eye brows creep up as he looks around the suite.
Like all of the suites on Kamino, it’s small. About the size of a studio apartment. Though her room seems much smaller due to the sheer amount of stuff covering every inch of open surface.
“What’s going on?” She scurries around the room and Alpha takes note of a packed backpack sitting at the foot of her bed. “Is that a bug out bag?”
“No!” She pauses, “Well, yes. Technically.”
“Are you running away from Kamino?” Is he...hurt? He is. He thought she liked it here.
She grabs her datapad, her personal datapad based on the ridiculous looking purple protective case wrapped around it, and she turns her panicked gaze towards him.
All of his hurt feelings fly out the window at the look on her face, and he immediately shifts into, what she’s called, his badass soldier mode. “What happened?”
She won’t meet his gaze, and her free hand is fluttering over the designs on the protective case. And Alpha’s heart sinks. He’s not going to like what she’s about to say.
“Um, so...you remember why I was hired in the first place, right?”
“Yeah. The Jedi were worried about Seppie slicers getting into these computers. You were hired to update the security. Which you did.”
“Yes! Yes, I did.” She lifts her gaze from where it was tracing the paint on his chest place, “I…” She takes a deep breath, “I have a thing.”
“A thing?”
“I don’t like secrets. And I don’t trust the Republic. And I really, really don’t like the Kaminoans.” She says quickly, “So…”
“So?”
“I left myself a backdoor in their system.”
“...okay. Okay, so what. Did someone, other than you, use the backdoor?”
“No. You’d only be able to find it if you knew it was there.” She says quickly, “But, well, I’ve been perusing their system and...and ten years is a lot of stuff to go through, but I learned a lot.”
“Like?”
“Like the fact that the clones were commissioned by Count Dooku on the order of someone called Sidious. Like the fact that all of the clones have a chip in their brain to overwrite their free will.” her grip tightens around her datapad, “Well, all of the clones except for the Alpha Class.”
He was right. He doesn’t like this.
“I think…” She hesitates.
“Well, don’t stop now.”
“I think the clones were created as a trap for the Jedi. I think you were created to kill them.” She says quickly.
Alpha doesn’t say anything for a long time. And then, slowly, he exhales. “Okay. So how do we fix it.”
“You believe me?”
“You’ve never lied to me before.” Alpha pins her with a look, “I assume you have a plan.”
“Chips can be hacked. There must be a computer or terminal somewhere here that will allow me to overwrite the code on the chips. I just...need to find it.” She finally loosens her grip on her datapad, “This computer isn’t hooked up to the regular network, I know. I’ve looked.”
“You’ve looked.”
“...your brothers are very talented. But a lot of them are going to die if they turn against the Jedi. I don’t want that. I...don’t want any of this.”
Alpha stares at her for a long, long time. His brothers were wrong. He doesn’t have a crush on her. It’s so, so much worse.
“Alpha?”
He’s in love with her.
“Hello?”
Obviously he needs to claim her as his before they go any further with this.
“Do you need a medic? Should I call for help?”
Alpha snaps back to attention when she waves her hand in his face, worry written clearly on her face. He catches her wrist, and pulls her arm to the side.
“Oh, there you are. You went somewhere else for a bit.” She says, the worry fading away now that he’s moving again.
“I was thinking.”
“Oh, I know this is a lot-”
“Not about that.” Alpha interrupts.
“I...what?”
His grin is sharp, “I was thinking that I’m going to kiss you and claim you as mine, and then we can work out a plan on how to save my stupid ass brothers.”
She just blinks at him, startled, but she doesn’t try to pull away as he leans in and presses his lips against hers. In fact, she enthusiastically kisses him back.
Alpha releases her wrist and cups the back of her head to hold her close, deepening the kiss in the way that he’s been dreaming of for longer than he’ll ever admit to, and then he pulls back and presses his forehead against hers.
“Now,” He murmurs, “Is there anything else you learned that I should know?”
She blinks at him through hazy eyes, “Uh...Jango Fett is alive and in cryo in the basement.”
“What!?”
“Um, the Jango Fett who died on Geonosis was another clone who took his place. Apparently.” She says quickly.
Alpha stares at her for a long time, “Oh...kay. We’re going to table that particular crisis until we deal with this one. I’m going to go get Fordo and General Ti. You-” He pauses, “You’re going to hide your bug out bag and clean up some of this mess.”
“Oh. Right.”
He moves his hand so he’s able to brush his thumb across her lips, “And then, we can talk about us.”
And a small smile crosses her lips, “I’d like there to be an us.”
“Me too.”
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libraryofgage · 1 year
Text
Hashah Tovah! It's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and there's no such thing as too much Jewish Steve in my book (that being said, this story isn't about the New Year, it's about Shabbat hfjdks)
Also, I'm gonna be honest, this fic is a love letter to Judaism and my experiences with my temple and the people there. My experiences aren't universal, though, so please don't take anything here as, like, the end-all-be-all of Judaism. If you have questions about anything here, you can ask me; I'll be happy to answer ^_^
The time period is also very loose. Upside Down happened, but some of the attitudes are probably a bit more modern. Honestly, I suggest just shutting off your brain and enjoying the story lmao
CW: vague mentions of antisemitism and homophobia
As always, if you see any typos no you didn't
(also this is like 4k so buckle in bois)
----
Steve's car has officially given up on life. Honestly, he's surprised it even managed to live this long. For all it's been through, it probably deserves some rest and TLC. Steve just wishes it could have demanded that rest and TLC on any other day.
Because it's Friday. Because it's Shabbat. Because he's about to have a mob of concerned elderly members of his temple crowding his door if he doesn't go to services tonight, and that's not something he wants his neighbors to see.
He considers calling Robin, but she won't be much help. She might be his Emergency Goy, but she doesn't have a car. Now that he's thinking about it, Robin may not be the best Emergency Goy, not that he'd ever tell her that.
He knows one other person with a car, of course, but that means he has to call Eddie. Not that Steve has anything against him, of course, but Eddie makes him feel a lot of things that he's not quite ready to confront just yet.
Steve frowns, staring at the phone for a long moment, trying to come up with any other option.
Steve comes up empty.
Shit.
He takes a deep breath and takes the phone off the receiver, slowly punching in the numbers as though he'll suddenly have an epiphany before he's finished dialing.
Unfortunately, he doesn't, and the phone is now ringing. It rings twice before getting picked up, Eddie's familiar voice saying, "You've reached Casa de Munson. The fuck do you want?"
"Do you always answer the phone like that?" Steve asks, momentarily forgetting about the favor he was planning to ask.
He hears Eddie hum and can practically picture the way he's now leaning against the wall next to the phone, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Stevie. What, pray tell, has you calling me?" he asks.
Steve almost hangs up. This is already stressful for him. What if Eddie doesn't agree? Worst, what if he does? Wouldn't that mean Eddie is going to see a part of himself that nobody but Robin has seen? That's fucking terrifying. What if Eddie suddenly hates him?
"I, uh, I need a favor," Steve admits.
"What kind of favor?"
If he wanted, Steve could just lie. It wouldn't be his first time lying about Friday plans. "My car won't start," Steve says, hesitating for a second more before continuing, "and I need a ride to the next town tonight."
"Gee, Harrington, get invited to a party?" Eddie asks, a slight edge to his voice that Steve can't quite place.
"What? No. I...it's not a party, okay? This is really important to me, man. Can you give me a ride or should I ask someone else?"
Maybe Hopper or Joyce would have enough time to give him a ride. He just needs to be dropped off. Getting back...can be a bridge he crosses when he comes to it.
"What time would we be getting back?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts.
"Probably after nine. And we need to be there at six, so that means leaving here no later than five," Steve says, trying to ignore the growing hope and sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I know it's really last minute, but you could spend the night at my place after. If you want."
"Will it be fun?"
"Uh, maybe? I don't know, man, it kinda depends. I find it fun, but you might get...bored," Steve says. Or offended. Maybe infuriated? Maybe betrayed that this is a whole part of Steve's life he's never hinted at.
"You're being real mysterious about all this, big boy."
"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just hard to explain."
"Well, lucky for you, I'm bored and curious."
----
On the drive, Eddie keeps trying to figure out where Steve is directing him. He keeps asking questions, Steve keeps dodging them, and that feeling of inevitable dread keeps growing.
Of course, all that dodging is rendered obsolete as Eddie pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the van. A few families are walking into the temple, some parents glancing curiously at the unfamiliar van, some glancing suspiciously, and some too distracted by kids to notice.
"Uh, are you sure this is the place?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly as he looks at the temple and then at Steve.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, his hands nervously gripping the material of his sweater. "I'm Jewish," he blurts out, feeling his face burning. When a few seconds pass without any response, he burns holes into a tree outside and adds, "It's Friday night services. Shabbat. I've missed too many because of...you know. The, um, the Rabbi called and asked if I was okay, and I promised to be at services tonight. You don't have to stay if you don't feel comfortable."
"You don't look Jewish."
Steve tenses, jerking his head to look at Eddie. There's no malice in his eyes. No suspicion, either, thankfully. He just looks...confused. "What's a Jew supposed to look like?" Steve asks in return, wondering if Eddie even knows that he's toeing the edge of the antisemitic swimming pool.
Eddie opens his mouth before closing it again. "Uh...I don't know, actually. Just...not you, I guess?"
Okay. Yeah. Steve can deal with this. He forces himself to relax. "Well, Jews come in all shapes and sizes," he says. He hesitates before deciding to get a burning question out of the way. "Are you angry?"
"What the fuck would I be angry about?"
"That I didn't tell you. That I was Jewish. To be fair, only Robin knows."
Eddie shakes his head, turning in his seat to face Steve. "No, Stevie, I'm not angry. I mean, I live in Hawkins, too. Not exactly the place to be standing out unless you wanna get accused of murder."
Despite himself, Steve can't help snorting at that. He takes a deep breath, the last bit of tension leaving his shoulders. "Well, uh, do you want to stay for services?" he asks.
"Can I? I'm not Jewish. And I'm dressed like this," Eddie says, gesturing at his clothes.
A Hellfire Club shirt, denim vest, gaudy rings, and dark jeans. It's incredibly Eddie, and something about it reassures Steve. He says, "You're with me, so not being Jewish is fine. And your clothes are okay, too. It's not formal."
"My shirt literally says Hellfire."
"Well, it's a good thing Judaism doesn't really have a hell."
Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, clearly full of questions, but then he just nods and climbs out of the van. Steve blinks and scrambles out as well, wanting to create some kind of buffer between Eddie and the congregation members who see a stranger and instantly become defensive.
The moment he's shut the door, he hears a little kid shout excitedly, "Steve!"
He whirls around in time to see a young girl rush across the parking lot, much to the shock and concern of her guardian. Thankfully, there aren't any cars, so the girl is unimpeded in her rush to Steve.
Eddie comes around the side of the van just in time to see the girl launch herself at Steve, giggling when he lifts her up and spins. "Yael! Have you gotten bigger?" he asks, smiling brightly as he comes to a stop and sets her on his waist.
Yael returns his smile with a grin of her own, tilting her head up so he can clearly see the brand-new gap in her teeth. "I lost a tooth! See? It came out last week," she tells him, practically bouncing in his arms.
By now, Yael's grandfather has reached them, smiling indulgently. "Yael," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "you know better than to run across parking lots." When she mumbles an apology, he looks at Steve, his smile turning warm. "Steve, it's been a few weeks. I'm glad to see you again, and you've even brought a friend."
Steve returns the smile and nods, shifting closer to Eddie. "Yeah, things got a little...chaotic in Hawkins. Oh. Mr. Adler, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, Elijah Alder."
Mr. Adler's eyes light up, and Steve suddenly remembers something incredibly embarrassing. "Oh?" he says, looking at Eddie with renewed interest, "So this is the famous Eddie Munson? I'm glad to see you've healed well."
Eddie blinks, glancing at Steve. "Uh, thanks. How'd you know?"
"Steve asked the Rabbi to include you during the Mi Shebeirach."
"The Misha what now?"
"Mi Shebeirach," Steve says, gently nudging Eddie with his elbow. "It's a prayer for healing."
Mr. Adler nods once, his eyes practically dancing with new gossip. "Oh, yes, you've created quite the stir among the Sisterhood, you know. They have a backlog of Mi Shebeirach cards and nowhere to send them."
Steve translates that information as "the old ladies have been dying to know who this mysterious Eddie Munson is, so Steve had better brace himself." His smile becomes a little strained. "Well, let's get it over with, then."
Mr. Adler nods and gestures for Steve and Eddie to follow as he leads them toward the temple. While they walk, Yael looks at Eddie, her eyes wide. "Why is your hair so long?" she asks.
"Cuz I like it that way."
"Oh. Why are you wearing rings?"
"Because they're cool."
"Oh. Why did you need healing?"
"I was hurt really bad."
"Oh. By what?"
"A bear."
"Oh. Are you Steve's friend?"
Eddie glances at Steve, meeting his eyes for a brief second before smiling at Yael. "Yeah, Stevie and I are best friends."
Yael smiles right back. "Steve is my best friend, too! He's super strong and can carry me without getting tired and makes the best hamentaschen at Purim!"
"Yael," Mr. Adler says, cutting off any continuation of the conversation as they reach the doors of the temple. "Why don't you go let the Rabbi know Steve has joined us?"
Her entire face lights up with joy. "Okay!" she shouts, wiggling in Steve's arms until he lets her down. She tugs open the door, straining until Steve smiles and helps her. "Thanks! Bye, Steve!"
With that, she dashes into the temple, her voice carrying Steve's name into the room full of other people. When almost all of them, including three children that Steve can see, stop what they're doing and look over at the door, Mr. Adler says from behind Steve and Eddie, "Brace yourselves, my boys. The wolves have appeared."
Steve groans as Mr. Adler pushes them both inside. "Should I be worried?" Eddie whispers, leaning in closer to Steve as the door shuts behind them.
"I apologize in advance," Steve tells him.
Despite his words, he has a large grin as the three kids shout his name and rush over, much like Yael did. They're followed by a few teenagers and their parents. The kids pounce on Steve, two holding onto his biceps and hanging from them as he raises his arms while the third clings to his leg.
"Where ya been?" one of the teens asks, her hair pulled back into a ponytail so permed it looks ready to burst.
"Yeah, man, I've been manning the oneg table by myself," another teen says, his arms crossed over a Metallica shirt. He's got piercings climbing up one ear and through an eyebrow, and his gaze moves to Eddie as he speaks, taking in the other boy. "Who's this?"
"Yeah," another girl asks, smiling at Eddie and batting her eyes in a way that makes even Steve feel uncomfortable, "who's your friend, Steve?"
"Kids," an older woman says, pushing her way through them, "you know better than to crowd. Shouldn't you be passing out prayer books right now?" Once she's managed to shoo the teens away, she turns her gaze on the children still clinging to Steve. "And you three, I heard Mrs. Rost needs help in the kitchen. Something about there being too many cookies to platter all by herself."
Steve suddenly finds himself weightless as the kids abandon him, dashing down the hall toward the kitchen. He smiles with slight relief and looks at the woman. "Thanks," he says, rolling his shoulders.
"Of course, Steve. Now, who's your friend?" she asks, looking Eddie up and down curiously.
"Oh, right. Uh. Rabbi, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, this is Rabbi Sara. I, um, I was hoping he could sit in on services tonight?"
Rabbi Sara immediately smiles at them. She holds out her hand to Eddie, shaking firmly when he returns the gesture. "Of course! I'm glad to see you're doing better, Eddie. We've been a bit worried about you here," she says. She glances around before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering, "There's a betting pool on whether his name would be added to the Mourner's Kiddish."
Steve snorts, knowing exactly which members would have started that bet. "Yeah, well, tell Diane and Yakov they've lost."
Rabbi Sara barely holds back her laughter, nodding once as she lets go of Eddie's hand. "Well, how about I spare you boys from socializing more," she offers.
When Steve nods, she gestures for them to follow her, leading the way to the sanctuary. He glances at Eddie as they walk, taking in the way he's tugging on a lock of hair and looking at the hall around them. "You doing okay?" Steve whispers, leaning in closer.
Eddie glances at him, is silent for a few minutes, and then says, "It's a lot to take in."
"Service will be easier. Lots of music. You'll like it," Steve promises, smiling reassuringly at Eddie. He hesitates before adding, "And if you want to leave, just let me know. The important part was making sure people saw I wasn't dead."
That's not entirely true. Steve doesn't want to leave the Shabbat service. He misses the routine of it and the feeling of togetherness as everyone sings. But Eddie's comfort is taking precedence here; he's already given Steve a ride and has begun subjecting himself to Steve's nosy congregation. Leaving early if he gets overwhelmed is the least Steve can do, really.
The teen in the Metallica shirt, Sam, holds out two prayer books when Rabbi Sara leads them to the sanctuary doors. His gaze lingers on Eddie for a few seconds more before asking, "Dude, do I know you?"
Eddie blinks and raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. Do you?"
Their gazes hold for nearly a minute before Sam's eyes widen and light with recognition. Steve is bracing himself for the worst (you know, devil worshipper, accused murderer, wannabe criminal, take your pick). Instead, Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I totally do! You're in that band, yeah? The one that plays at Hideout sometimes? Corroded Coffin. Your music is metal, man."
Eddie returns Sam's grin, throwing an arm over his shoulders and leaning in close. "You know, you're alright. Always happy to meet a fan. What's your favorite song?"
"You played that new one last Saturday. Bats, I think. It spoke to me, man."
Steve stares at Eddie, wondering how he missed the fact that Corroded Coffin started playing gigs again. A curl of something like regret or maybe hurt begins to build in his stomach, and he's almost overtaken by it when Eddie nods and says, "Oh, yeah, that one's about Stevie."
"Oohh, dude, that makes so much sense now."
"You wrote a song about me?" Steve asks, successfully regaining Eddie's attention.
Apparently, Eddie sort of forgot he was there. His relaxed posture becomes a little awkward, and he removes his arm from Sam's shoulder. He clears his throat, tugging a lock of hair in front of his mouth as he says, "Yeah. Is, uh, is that a problem?"
"No," Steve says, feeling a reassuring smile tug at his lips, "but you should play it for me sometime."
"This is all very touching," a voice says behind them, "but can you take the flirting inside the sanctuary? We still need our prayer books."
Steve jolts and looks behind them, laughing awkwardly when he sees Rivkah, a woman in her early 30s, and her partner, Tamar. "Sorry," he says, grabbing Eddie's arm and dragging him through the doors.
"Hey, Harrington," Eddie whispers, allowing himself to be pulled over to some chairs near the left corner of the sanctuary, "is everything okay? Like...are we...safe?"
It takes a moment for Steve to understand what Eddie means. Like, of course, he can't guarantee their safety. It's a synagogue. Every person here old enough to understand the world knows the risk, the potential for one person to show up and wreak utter destruction. Steve is about to say as much (and explain the temple's "worst case scenario" game plan) when he notices Eddie glancing at Rivkah and Tamar.
A light bulb practically clicks on above him, and he almost laughs at himself. He sits down and tugs Eddie into the seat next to him. "Yeah, we're safe, Eds," he promises, smiling softly when Eddie looks at him. "Rivkah and Tamar are married. I attended the ceremony. It was very nice. Tamar broke the glass."
Eddie's eyes widen slightly, and he looks around the sanctuary with renewed interest. His gaze especially lingers on the people that file in, taking in the couples and families and groups that wouldn't make much sense outside the temple's doors. Steve is content to let him look, allowing himself to relax back into the seat and wait.
After almost 15 minutes, Rabbi Sara approaches the bema and smiles at everyone. "Good evening, and Shabbat Shalom," she says, nodding along as her greeting is returned. "I'm glad to see so many familiar faces tonight. And some new ones. The week has been long for some of us, but it's now come to an end, and we have gathered to celebrate its end, another week's beginning, and being together. Now, please open your books to page 47 for the L'cha Dodi."
Steve flips open his book as Anna, the cantor and the same girl who tried to flirt with Eddie, starts playing the guitar next to Rabbi Sara. "Uh, the book is backward," Eddie whispers, leaning close to Steve.
"Hebrew is written right to left," Steve explains, taking Eddie's book and opening it to the right page. "Also, don't worry about singing along. Just try to follow. If you don't know where we are, just nudge me. I'll point you to the right spot."
Eddie nods, looking almost overwhelmed, but Rabbi Sara starts singing before Steve can reassure him verbally. Instead, he just shifts so their shoulders are pressed together, flashing a tiny smile when Eddie looks at him before joining the rest of the congregation in singing.
Steve has to point Eddie at the right line a few times, but he doesn't mind. He's memorized the prayer by now, and the book is really just for show. He pulls Eddie up with the rest of the congregation during the L'cha Dodi, turns him to the sanctuary doors, and places a hand on his back to gently nudge him into a bow. Eddie blinks through it, following along but seeming overwhelmed by the entire process. When the prayer is finished and Rabbi Sara invites them to greet each other, Steve looks at Eddie with a smile (one of the most genuine smiles he's had in weeks), holds out his hand, and says, "Shabbat Shalom, Eddie."
Eddie doesn't hesitate to take his hand, leaning in close and returning the smile. "Shabbat Shalom?" he asks, speaking slowly to test the words and let Steve approve of the pronunciation. When Steve nods, Eddie's smile grows wider, and he whispers, "Shabbat Shalom, sweetheart."
That...that's a new nickname. And Steve doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe Eddie just wanted the pseudo-alliteration, but his smile says otherwise, and Steve feels like he's frozen in place.
And then a few of the kids dash over to him, shouting, "Shabbat Shalom!" at the top of their lungs and practically fighting to shake his hand first. Steve would feel honored if he didn't know they raced to beat each other to every adult.
After greeting, they light the candles. After lighting the candles, Rabbi Sara leads them into the next prayer, the rest of the service flowing smoothly with her as their guide.
The service is (beautifully, wonderfully, incredibly, thankfully) the same as always. Prayers are sung, and Steve can practically feel them in his bones. He's never been particularly religious (his mother would say they're more culturally Jewish than anything else), but he can't deny that the sound of over 50 people, young and old and in-between, singing together is an otherworldly experience.
They are singing a language that only a few of them actually know how to speak. Steve is reading a language that he wouldn't recognize outside of the prayer book. It's disconcerting as always, but also special, because he shares in the ignorance and devotion wrapped into singing words he wouldn't understand without the book's translation on the opposite page.
The Mi Shebeirach and the Mourner's Kiddish are Steve's sign that service is almost over. And for the first time in forever, Steve doesn't speak any names when Rabbi Sara calls for them. He sinks back into his seat, an unfamiliar relief easing tension he didn't even know he had anymore. But it's true. Everyone is fine, and they've all healed, and Steve no longer has to say Max's name or Will's or Hopper's or Eddie's. He no longer has to dodge questions or call up the Rabbi and ask her to include an extra name in the service.
And this realization, the sheer relief he feels at the simple act of staying quiet when Rabbi Sara's gaze sweeps past him, is almost enough to bring him to tears. His throat gets tight, his eyes burn, and his voice almost cracks when he joins the rest of the congregation in singing for those in need of healing and those who have passed.
Eddie nudges him gently, and Steve glances at him and then at their shared armrest. Eddie's hand is lying palm-up, a silent invitation, and Steve doesn't hesitate to accept. He slips his hand into Eddie's, interlocking their fingers, and feels infinitely better when Eddie squeezes his hand gently.
----
"So," Steve says, refraining from getting up as others file out of the sanctuary, practically tripping over kids racing to reach the oneg brownies first, "did you...like it?"
Eddie is silent for a few minutes, staring down at their hands. Steve almost pulls away, an apology ready on his tongue, when Eddie squeezes his hand tighter. "Yeah. It was...different. But good. I...there was more singing than I expected."
Steve grins, glancing up to see the sanctuary has mostly cleared, and stands. He pulls Eddie up with him. "Yeah, we sing most of our prayers. It's nice."
"It is," Eddie agrees, still looking a little lost for words.
Steve doesn't push. Instead, he pulls, leading Eddie out of the sanctuary. He gives their prayer books to Sam, grabs two tiny, sample-sized cups of Manischewitz wine, and gives one to Eddie. "Don't drink it yet," he says, nodding to where Rabbi Sara has her own cup and is waiting for the rest to be passed around.
Once everyone is ready, she blesses the wine, blesses the challah, and invites them all to drink and eat. Steve braces himself before knocking the wine back, the strong, warm grape flavor coating his tongue, vaguely reminiscent of cough medicine. He sees the same grimace on Eddie's face. "This is shit wine," Eddie whispers, his nose still scrunched as he tosses the cup into the trashcan like he can't get rid of it fast enough.
"Yeah. It's specifically for services," Steve says, "it's not supposed to be good."
"Right," Eddie mumbles, glancing at the oneg table, his eyes lingering on the desserts laid out. "Do you wanna stick around? You know, talk to people?"
Usually, Steve would. He likes catching up with the kids and teens, likes ganging up on them when their parents come around and playfully scold them, and he likes hearing the most recent temple gossip. But as he looks at Eddie, feels their hands still tightly holding onto each other, Steve finds he doesn't mind leaving early.
So, he leans in closer to Eddie and grins at him. "Or," he whispers, "we could steal an extra pack of brownies from the kitchen, sneak out the back, and eat them on the drive home."
Eddie returns the grin, amusement and eagerness practically dancing in his eyes, and says, "You read my mind, sweetheart."
Later, when Eddie pulls into Steve's driveway after an hour-long ride spent eating brownies, explaining different prayers, and telling him about old temple gossip, a different kind of tension will start to fester between them. Steve will delay getting out of the car, Eddie won't comment on it, and they'll slowly gravitate toward each other.
And they'll kiss. It will be awkward and taste like chocolate and end far too quickly, but it will be perfect.
Steve will pull away, a faint blush rising and his heart racing faster than it ever did with Nancy, and shyly offer to let Eddie spend the night. And Eddie will accept and spend the night and ask to attend Shabbat with Steve again and...
And so much more.
But for now, while he has no clue of the future that's about to start after an hour's drive, Steve glances around the crowded hall and pulls Eddie toward the kitchen.
After all, they've got brownies to steal.
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starrystevie · 1 year
Text
"ids?" the curly headed bouncer asks and honestly, for a seedy hicktown bar, steve's surprised they have a bouncer at all, let alone one who looks that good under dim neon lights.
he can feel robin, ever the queen of nonchalance, freeze next to him before shoving her hand into her vest pocket and fumbling around for her fake. steve on the other hand pulls his license confidently out of his wallet and holds it out for the guy to see, turning to ask robin a question.
"so what are you going to get first-"
"no good, buddy." the bouncer looks regretful and already has his sharpie in hand to mark the back of his hand. steve sputters and drops his hand before double checking that he pulled out his id and not something dumb like a frozen yogurt punch card or family video membership card.
"what do you mean, 'no good'? how can it be no good? robin-"
his license isn't expired, it's not a fake, his face is clearly there and visible in all it's beautiful glory, and it should be able to get him into some shitty dive with no problem. the bouncer already has robin's hand in his and making a large black x on the back as she grins sheepishly at steve.
"sorry, i had to cave," she whispers while inspecting the marker lines under the dingy street light. "it's not exactly the most convincing fake."
"and you," the bouncer interrupts with a finger pointing in steve's direction and a very attractive smirk that steve is absolutely not going to think about later, "are a few weeks shy of 21, so give me your hand."
steve scowls, eyebrows pulled together and crosses his arms over his chest. "oh, come on man... look. i wasn't even going to get anything hard, just a beer or something. gotta be good to drive this thing home, you know?"
he hears robin squawk at being called a thing and bats his hand away from where he gestured to her with his thumb. he hears the bouncer laugh at either steve or robin, he's not sure, but he's very sure that he wants to hear the laugh again. he smiles in return, tries to flash the harrington charm to worm his way out of being resolved to ginger ale all night and he thinks he might have cracked the guy but then-
"nice try, pretty boy." his hand is being pulled up and the cool tip of the sharpie is pressing into his hand. steve rolls his eyes, ignores robin cackling in the background and crowing something about how it serves him right, and looks down to see the bouncer writing even more on his hand than just an x.
there's a scrawl of numbers underneath the black lines that force him to stay sober followed by a name, eddie, and a smaller x followed by o. cute, he thinks, and feels his cheeks flare up like a light.
"steve, let's go!" robin yells through the doorway as the band they came to see kicks up, the smooth voice of their singer already greeting the crowd through the tinny speakers.
"for later, if you want." the bouncer smirks and pats the back of steve's hand, his fingers trailing over the drying marker in a very not subtle way, leaving fire in it's wake. "i get off at 1 and i have beer that i'm willing to share without the eyes of the law following us. consider it an early birthday present, steve."
steve gives him a smirk in return and nods before turning to follow robin into the bar, throwing a wink over his shoulder. "happy birthday to me, then."
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headspace-hotel · 2 years
Note
I really like your posts about nature and plants. I live in a big city, and I would like to be more connected with the natural world around me, as limited as it may be. I wanted to ask if you might have any advice. So far I know a good portion of the types of trees, wildflowers, and birds. And I like to visit the parks and public gardens. But I would love to take steps to learn even more. What would you suggest? Thank you for your time :)
Once you know what some of the plants and animals are, you are in a good place to pay attention to what they do. What they teach. Their ways, their work. That sounds fanciful. It's not—they are not objects, things, they are creatures. Even plants have ways of living and growing, responding to their environment, and belonging to a community.
Pay attention to the plants that no one planted—the plants that popped up on their own. Pay attention to where they thrive and where they struggle. When you see a sad and frail plant, ask why is it sad? When you see a flourishing plant, ask the reasons for its success. Pay attention to their behavior.
This one creeps across the ground like a shaggy rug, and this one shoots up tall and straight. What does this mean?
When you see a plant growing in an unusual place, ask, How did it get here? Maybe it was the wind? Maybe it was water, or a bird?
Consider first the plants you see everywhere, in cracks in the pavement and in the seams between brick pavers. The brave dandelion, the tenacious goosegrass, the low-creeping spurge, perhaps. Maybe say hello. I say hello to plants. Become familiar with where they grow, their companions, and what hardships do them harm.
It takes repetition to notice how many living things are around you. Look again—there are more plants in the shoulder of the road or the little neglected patch of mulch than you could see before! (Hello, hello, hello, hello. Hello! hello!)
You will start to realize things. It will seem to fall out of the sky into your head. The apparent randomness of the plants that grow in the neglected places disappears. There is an elegance to the ways of weeds: some arrive first, and some come after their companions; some tolerate the harsh baking sun and some cling to shady crevices; some are found in only a specific place...and some are surprises you never would have expected.
Look closely at patches of grass and roadsides and parks, and sooner or later it will happen: Oh. That's not a weed or a wildflower...that's a baby tree.
I got started with growing plants by gently pulling them up from pavement at the shoulder of the road in my neighborhood. It took two months to figure out how to help them survive. The method I worked out was to punch holes in the bottom of red solo cups and use them as pots, keeping them outside in the shade of the Virginia creeper vine, elevated about 2 inches above the porch on some metal shelves I fished out of the trash. Their roots need to be moist, but they can't be soggy—good drainage is vital. I like to mix sand and half-rotted leaves in with their potting mix.
The red solo cup is about as small as you can go without exposing the roots to too much temperature and moisture change. You should not get the plant's leaves dirty or wet if at all possible—bring transplanted is quite a shock, and you can introduce rot and sickness at such a delicate time.
You don't have to grow any plants for yourself, but it is awfully tempting, because for the most part, no one can stop you. That's the thing that was so life-changing to me. Even in a highly controlled human environment, even amidst traffic, extreme conditions, and herbicides, the plants have not given up on us.
I didn't start in the woods, I started on the side of the road, paying attention to the tiny seedlings that were trying to return my home to forest. It was in the world of pavement and lawns that my first major realizations came—oh. Nature is on our side, fighting back. Nature has not left us. They are so brave and so, so tough, and we can take care of them.
And it is true that the diversity and robustness of the forest or the grassland or the bog or the canebrake is incredible compared to the human world, and it makes me sad how few of those incredible living things can survive close to our inconsiderate ways...but the straggling weeds and brave seedlings that emerge are typically here because they are the pioneer species. They are the first: they are adapted to begin the healing after destruction. Admire them for their bravery and aggression. I admire even the kudzu and Bradford pear, even though I also feel sorry for them and the other invasive species as I rip them out of the ground. It's like someone in a zombie movie pulling the trigger on a loved one who has turned, except the monster is even more clearly a result of our own folly.
I could write forever about this, but your journey is your own. Listen to them and they will show you. Behave contrary to the expectations of our world; view other life forms as your neighbors instead of mere objects.
This is the way to unlock the shackles of helplessness. You may think to yourself: Our world is dying, and I can't do anything to help. But you are not alone.
Notice, notice, notice how many more living things can live in the presence of a single tree, how the unkempt areas shelter and protect life. Notice where life is and where it thrives.
And you, a human, can be a caretaker too, protecting life where it reaches out to you. Oaks give you acorns and flowers give you seeds, trusting forces beyond their control to bring them to places where they can thrive. Wildflowers grow in the grass, asking nothing from us except mercy.
Hello Yarrow, who dressed the wounds of Achilles. Hello Dandelion, who resists annihilation, food for insects and humans. Hello Virginia Creeper, who shades my window, shelters my saplings from the sun, and feeds birds on their migration. Hello Pokeweed, giving us your brilliant pinks and purples as dyes, desperate food of the poor and enslaved. Hello American Burnweed, who sequesters atmospheric nitrogen polluting the air. Hello Frost Aster, breaker of cycles, surviving roadsides and lawns, blooming at the first frost with incredible abundance to feed the butterflies and bees. Hello Horseweed, first to evolve resistance to Roundup. Hello Crabgrass, ruiner of lawns, brought here by enslaved people as food.
The pioneer species make shelter for the others. They shade the ground, their scrubby growth catches the leaves and gathers them to rot over the winter, and their roots and dense foliage hold the slowly building topsoil in place and keep it moist. They are weeds, tough as nails and twice as mean. Many are useful, edible, medicinal.
Where plants grow without being planted, that is a sign that the ecosystem we are part of still works to restore it. We do not have to save the world all by ourselves. We have help. The rest of Nature has not abandoned us.
There is no clearly defined answer. It is a journey and a conversation. Listen, pay attention, ask questions of even the humblest little moss and bug and flower. They will teach you.
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herbatalover · 9 months
Note
Javier just being very in love with his very tall bf
please and thank you
A/N: I'M BACK. Because I'm sad, I have COVID and I'm miserable, thank you very much. Also my dog is snoring next to my ear so I'm sorry if I make any mistakes, she's distracting me. Anyway, enjoy
(English and Spanish are not my first languages, please forgive me for any grammatical errors)
Mi Amor
Javier x male reader
It was a chilly night in Colter. You were hovering over a fire, staring at it silently. It's been tough lately, the gang lost many people. But you kept your hope for a better tomorrow.
However stress was eating you out. Your boyfriend, Javier went out with Arthur to look for John. It's been a while since they were gone, and seeing how the snow kept coming, you couldn't help but feel scared that they got stuck in it. If not, some hungry wild animal got to them.
It wouldn't get much from Javier, you tried to cheer yourself up. He's thin and short, not much meat. Well, short compared to you. But thinking about it, he was shorter than some members of the gang. Non of them could compete with you, of course.
You were... Well, tall is an understatement. You were almost a head taller than Charles, who was the tallest from the whole gang. But even you outgrew him. You used to be slightly insecure about it, seeing your background, but Javier loved it ever since he met you. He always made you feel loved, he had a gift in that. Whenever you were at your lowest, or overthinking, he came to cheer you up.
But he wasn't here now. In fact, you didn't know where he was. You weren't even sure if you'll see him again. Out of all people in the camo, why was he the one that decided to go? Why couldn't it be Bill or Lenny? They would've done better. This fool isn't even made for a weather like that, he's Mexican after all!
But before you could go any further down the road of worry, you heard horses outside. Not long after, the familiar voices of your beloved. Oh, yes, and Arthur's too.
You jumped up, excited. Delighted even. You ran to the source of the sounds, seeing as others were helping John down from the horse, Abigail immediately going to scold him. You rolled your eyes. She could give him a break at least now.
Before you could observe what was happening after, you felt arms wrap around you, pulling you into a hug.
"oh, mi amor! I was so worried will you manage without me!" The short Mexican cried out, hiding his face in your chest. You immediately slapped the back of his head.
"you worried?" You frowned, sending down a glare. But upon seeing him rubbing the back of his head, your gaze softened. You hugged him, picking him up a bit. A gesture he loved. "I thought I lost you... What took you so long?"
Javier chuckled nervously, nuzzling to you, the exhaustion washing over him.
"got some company on our way back..." He muttered, sighing softly. You smiled a bit, rubbing his back, watching him.
"I hope nothing serious?"
"wolves"
"then it wasn't anything serious" You laugh at his offended gasp before getting a light punch on your stomach.
"I could've been eaten!"
"noo, they wouldn't go after you. Look at you. You're a cute type. Not a meal you'd want to eat"
"oh you said something different that one night-" you covered his mouth before he could finish, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. Yes, it was a nice night, but not the type you'd want the whole gang to hear about.
"oh shut your mouth pendejo..."
"esto es por que te amo" he chuckled softly, taking your hand off of his mouth, taking your collar and pulling you down into a soft kiss. You blink few times, surprised before smiling slightly, kissing back.
Javier was a fool. You knew that. But he was your fool. And you'd be damned if you didn't merry that fool sooner or later. He always found ways to throw you off your feet.
And it was easy, considering the height difference.
^^^^^^
!! Any mistakes in the Spanish parts are fully my fault, I'm still learning it but Google Translate showed that I wrote the sentence correctly, so it's partly it's fault as well. !!
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muldermuse · 7 months
Note
love love loving the Two Sinners series! Best I’ve read! Keep it up!!
Wondering what would happen if they got one of those remote controlled vibrators that can be controlled by the other one.
Maybe they can’t see each other for a while so reader wears it all day and gets an unexpected surprise at at awkward moment OR Gator inserts it and reader is in control OR they are both at some event in public and are controlling the devices just to fuck with each other.
CHURCH POT LUCK
CHURCH POT LUCK
CHURCH. POT. LUCK.
nsfw below the cut. mdni. <3
you'd seen Gator quickly in the morning, he was on the overnight shift so could visit you before heading home to Glenda. whenever he came to see you at the ass crack of dawn, he'd always have to decency to drop off a black mcdonalds coffee (he always plays it off that he drank a gatorade and couldn't finish it but really it's because he knows that it's your fav cheap takeaway coffee)
he fucks you so soft and slow on mornings like this. you're both exhausted and using all your remaining energy to make the other feel good. he kisses deep into your mouth to swallow your soft whines for him. his breath is hot against your neck, leaving soft bites against your neck; damp with both of your perspiration. "thought about this all fuckin' night long", it's mumbled quietly against your skin. you both smile to yourselves. neither of you last long and usually, Gator would fall asleep wrapped around you for an hour before heading home. but today he's scrabbling off you to get dressed- it's the Church Pot Luck. the event that takes over his home life because Glenda fucking loves it.
he's lost in his thoughts as he shoves his feet into his boots. considering how he won't be able to sleep when he gets home, how Glenda will have him tasting her bland soup for confirmation of how good it was and how his Father would criticise him for not helping enough. a sudden vibration behind his ear pulled him from his thoughts.
"what the fuck is that?" he sounds exasperated, which is not the mood you wanted to go for at all.
"it's a toy for us, to make the pot luck more bearable" you've wrapped your blanket around yourself, deciding that you'll probably stay in bed naked until it's time to get dressed.
Gator shakes his head, "'s always fuckin' somethin' on this day- you're not even a fuckin' part of the church. why do you go? just to make me miserable?". You grin and nod as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. He smiles despite himself.
you drop the blanket and crawl into the middle of the bed, sliding the small but sleek silicone vibrator inside you. that feeling alone has you flustered and you're trying to stifle a moan before you can speak. "it's a remote control vibrator, that pink thing on the table? it controls the vibrations" you drop your voice to sound as subby as possible, "jus' want you to be in control today, Sir". a deep red flush crosses his complexion as he squeezes his hardening cock through his boxers.
"baby, i don't have time for this i gotta go" he heads out as you shout at him if he doesn't want to use it, you'll invite another date instead.
he texts you 15 minutes later, telling you to wear the vibe.
you reply a few hours later as you pull up to the potluck simply saying, do your worst.
***
you sneak into the potluck. you don't want to draw attention to yourself. a few colleagues from work are standing in a corner and wave you over. they hand you a cup of spiked punch that you sip slowly; trying to calm your nerves. you blend into the conversation seamlessly, almost forgetting about the pink toy nestled against your walls.
until it turns on. it's like a lightning bolt.
you'd neglected to mention to Gator that it has a variety of settings. he didn't just have to turn up it to 11. i mean you had told him to do his worse. what makes it worse, is that everyone notices. your friends crowd around you and talk over each other as the vibrations continue, "oh my god are you okay?", "lemme grab you a chair" and "is this your back again?". you reassure them that you're fine and grab another cup of the sickly sweet spiked punch. you try to focus on the false coconut of the malibu rather than how close you're getting to cumming in this church.
then, it stops.
you take the respite to seek out your tormentor. Gator's arm is around Glenda's waist but his eyes are locked on yours. he's smirking at you, your eyes follow his hand into his pocket and you immediately feel the vibrations start again. it feels more intense than before, if you were alone in your room you'd be screaming. you keep staring at Gator as you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.
he does this agonising routine throughout the event until finally- you have to sneak into the bathroom and make yourself cum. your hand trembles as you pull the lock across, you softly moan as you pull your underwear down your trembling legs whilst the vibrations continue. you try not to look at yourself in the small mirror hanging above the sink. the cool touch of the sink contrasts the burning touch of your body.
you're so close to the edge, that you're finally allowing yourself to be lost in the overwhelming sensation. and then, again, it stops.
you cry out like you're in pain. there's a small knock on the door and you hear Gator's hushed voice tell you to open the door.
once he's in the cramped room with you, he's quick to put his hand around your throat and he takes your damp underwear in his other hand. a chaste kiss is placed against your forehead as he whispers, "'m gonna make you cum now okay baby? but i've gotta put these in your mouth to make sure you stay quiet. such a loud girl for me aren't you?". your nod is desperate as he pushes your panties past your lips, you savour the tangy taste of your own arousal. Gator quickly pulls your tits out of your dress and runs this thumb and forefinger against your pebbled nipples.
you look at his reflection as the vibration starts again. it's all too much, his strong hand around your throat, your own fucked reflection in the mirror, the panties in your mouth, and the changing pressure on your nipples. it hits you so fucking hard and it feels so fucking good. your legs are shaking, and your whole body is quivering as you see Gator smirk in the mirror at the sight before him.
he switches it off once you've come down, he kisses you, and takes the wet panties from your mouth. he mutters a quiet "fuck" as he slips them into his pocket and leaves without saying goodbye.
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