#fuck me I haven’t got a clue . Jesus

[feyburner]

I loved LOVED a word, a look, will be enough. I’m obsessed with the way you write jason and tim. No pressure to answer this at all, but I was curious if you have a headcanon about how the missing spleen reveal eventually goes

Jay »

Good afternoon Timothy.

« tim

uh oh

Jay »

I just had a fascinating conversation with Doc thompson

Care to hazard a guess about what?

« tim

pollen season

Jay »

No.

« tim

bird flu

Jay »

Is there a reason you havent told anyone in your life that you dont have a fucking spleen?

« tim

okay first of all

i’m not sure why doc thompson felt the need to tell you my private medical information

pretty sure they have a rule about that

Jay »

It’s not her fault.

I mentioned that you got whammied with that stupid germ bomb from Typhoid Tony or whatever the fuck his name was

« tim

vik vyral

Jay »

And she got all serious and told me I should get you into the clinic asap, and I was like no he’s fine now, it was basically a 24 hour bug, and she was like no, theres no such thing as a 24 hour bug for him, he needs to come get his blood tested yesterday

And then she clearly realized I had no fucking clue what she was talking about and clammed up. Wouldn’t say a thing. Told me to ask you myself.

Jay »

The look she gave me when I said you slept it off and went back to work. Like I should know better. like I was letting you be careless and shit bc thats just how I am or something.

« tim

“letting” me?

Jay »

yeah. Letting you. I know you know what I mean

« tim

i’m not sure i do.

Jay »

When youre with someone you take care of them.

I dont pretend to know much about this shit but I know that.

I’m not talking about handcuffing you to the radiator. Im talking about knowing whats going on with you and knowing that sometimes you let shit slide that I wouldn’t. When it comes to you

You do that for me and the others all the time. Thats how it works.

« tim

doc thompson doesn’t know you’re “with” me

Jay »

If you think everyone doesn’t know exactly what’s going on then your detective skills need work

Jay »

Also, Jesus, Tim.

« tim

ok sorry, i didn’t mean the scare quotes part

but did you pause to consider maybe there’s a reason i haven’t told everyone other than whatever shortsighted masochistic bs you’re assuming

Jay »

I dont need you to tell everyone. I’m not asking you to write a report on it.

Just like. if there’s any other major medical shit can you maybe tell me

Before you fucking die of a sinus infection or whatever bc the asshole who lives with you didn’t know your immune system has the horsepower of a bicycle

« tim

did you know you curse more when you’re fronting like you’re not worried about me

Jay »

I’m actually not fronting! in this moment!

« tim

okay

well. i am sorry

that sounded sarcastic bc of who i am as a person

but it’s not. i mean it.

Jay »

Sorry for yelling at you

« tim

i dont wanna go into it over text but i’ll tell you tonight. okay?

about what happened.

also there’s nothing else. it’s just the spleen thing

ok?

Jay »

Okay.

« tim

well and the mango allergy

well. and i’m double jointed specifically bc i have joint-hypermobility syndrome

which is why im so flexible :)

but also why i dislocate things a lot :(

um and im mildly allergic to carrots, bananas, pineapples, and most legumes, but it’s fine they just make my tongue itch

i think that’s all

Jay »

Tim can you be honest with me for a second

« tim

yeah…

Jay »

Are you inbred

« tim

NSJDN/&2&jdj?!_£_??

Jay »

Like are you that type of rich person

You can tell me. We are not going to procreate so I dont mind either way

« tim

just scared the living shit out of an intern who had never seen me laugh before. i think she thought i was choking

jesus CHRIST

i will see you at home.

Jay »

You

didn’t answer the question….

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

[ayedafuq]

Hamzah imagine I’m sorry god

POV: You got invited up to Toronto by your friend (Y/F) who hangs in the same circle as the Slushy Noobz crew, u n Hamzah meet at a party, get a little too tipsy, and you flirt just a taaaad .

——

(Y/F) : bitch come out the room and DRINK

Currently hiding away in her room (where I’ve been a freeloader for the past 2 days), I see Y/F’s text to come and join the pregame she’s having in her living room. She moved from our hometown to Toronto, a place I haven’t been before this, and I’m visiting her for the week. I came up on Wednesday and after our playful time catching up together for the past two days, she decided it’d be a good idea to go out with some of the friends she made. She currently has about 8 people in her living room playing drinking games, and I’m sitting on the floor staring into her full body mirror, ready to go to the bar, nervous as FUCK about meeting her friends.

After ignoring her text for approximately 30 seconds, she comes into the room. “OOOO GURRRRL YOU LOOKIN GOOOOOD” she says. I know she knows I’m nervous.

“Wait close the door” I say to her, and she does. “Dude, what if they don’t like me.” My anxiety is clearly getting the best of me.

“Fuck do you mean what if they don’t like you? You’re quite literally my twin. If they don’t like you then I’ll KNOW they secretly don’t like me. And they love me, so chill the fuck out. Get up” she picks me up out off the ground and pulls me out into her living room.

“Guess who’s heeeerrrree” she says to the group, and they all start to cheer. “There she is!” One of the girls says. A guy chimes in, “The visitor has arrived!”

Y/f drags me around the party to share names, my nerves subsiding. Everyone here is really nice. Why was I even worried?

“Hey, I’m Mandy. I work at the animal shelter with y/f. I’ve heard so much about you!” The girl says. I reply telling her I’ve heard about her too. “Y/f says the only reason she goes there is to pet animals and hang out with you” I tell her. “Yea sounds about right, I do the same thing.”

Me, Mandy and Y/f chat for a couple minutes sharing some laughs and stories, until the guy who chanted earlier and his friend come up. “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Martin. And this is Hamzah, avoid him.”

I give my hellos and introduce myself to Martin. We banter for a quick second before I turn to Hamzah. “Hellooo, I’m Y/n.” I give him a quick smile he returns. “Hey Y/n, how do you like Toronto so far?”

Before I can even answer, Y/f interrupts. “I’m gonna need you guys to shut up and grab a drink. We’re leaving for the bar in 30, and me and Y/n still need to demolish half the party in flip cup. Grab two seltzers from the fridge” she tells me. “You better lock in, I told everyone you never miss a flip.”

—

Two hours later and we’re at the bar, and it’s safe to say I’m feeling preeeetty nice. Her friends are so sweet, and I can’t help but feel so happy that she found these people.

Mandy, y/f, Hamzah and I are standing by a high top table, and I take the liberty in sharing some stories of me and y/f from parties in high school.

“When I tell you I turned my head for 3 seconds and y/f was gone, I mean it. I’m running through the party like a chicken without a fucking head, looking like a maniac asking everyone where she is. Mind you, I’m like 17 and hammered, so I was probably acting like the hulk.”

“Jesus Christ y/n don’t..” she says.

“After 10 minutes where do I find this bitch? Asleep in this random bitch’s closet with her head, quite literally, in a bucket.”

Hamzah and Mandy are cracking up. “You didn’t even know who threw the party?” Hamzah asks between laughs.

“Not a fucking clue. Y/f felt right at home though” I say, giggling myself.

“Girl I hate you, but yea I did. That bucket was my crib. Need to go to the bathroom?” Y/f asks me.

I tell her I’m alright for now, and Mandy tells her she needs to go so they scurry off together.

“Wow, so you guys have been friends for a while huh?” Hamzah says, still smiling from the story.

“Yea, we’ve been through a lot together. She’ll never get rid of me I fear” I say back.

“Damn, that’s awesome. Y/f is super cool, I’m happy she moved up here. When’s it your turn?” He says, his smile becoming more of a smirk. It hasn’t gone over my head that this kid is fucking adorable, but hes been acting pretty shy all night. The sly comment took me by surprise.

“Man I wish I could. It’s been on my mind a lot since she moved here” I reply.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks.

“I guess I’m just scared. It’s a big move, and she’s got the balls to do it. I’m not sure I do.”

“I felt the same way too, I pretty much hauled ass across the country of Canada at 18. I lived out of my car for a bit actually, it was a nightmare. I’d do it all again though, it was the best decision I’ve made. If I could do it, a pretty girl like you could too.”

Pretty girl?

“Pretty girl?” I say back, a little smug. The drinks are getting to me I fear.

“I’m sorry, was that weird?” He gets a little shy again. I giggle to let him know it wasn’t.

“Not at all. Thank you, pretty boy” I playfully shove his arm. I cringe in my head. I gotta be fucking kidding.

“Pretty boyyy I see I see” he says with a smile. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“Only a little bit. Like, this much” I pinch my fingers together the closest I can without having them touch.

“Well, thiiiis pretty boy” he mimics my fingers, “thinks you should move to Toronto thiiiis much” he separates them a little more. “Because he’d like to see you more thiiiiis badly” he separates them as far as he can. Damn, he has nice hands.

“Wow that’s pretty badly” I respond. Thank god I have makeup on because this cheesy shit might be making me blush.

“Yea, it’s alarming. Think about it, pretty girl” he tilts his head towards me playfully as he says pretty girl, getting a little close and then backing his head away swiftly. His smirk is fully activated and the eye contact we’re making is pretty hot. I smile back at him with my tongue touching my canine (do yk what I’m talking about like that lil sexy smile), tilting my head slightly to the side as if to say oh, ur flirting with me, noted. and just as I’m about to respond, y/f and Mandy return from the bathroom.

“Stop harassing her Hamzah she’s never gonna want to come back” Mandy says. “Come on, we’re gonna go back to y/f’s and play drinking games. This bar is boring.”

Hamzah follows after Mandy, glancing back at me quickly with a cheeky smile before turning his head. Y/f gets in my ear.

“Hamzah likes you. Mandy can tell. She told me in the bathroom.”

—-

Okay guys hi this is like so bullshit but I was feeling playful idk I hope you enjoyed if you made it this far

-ayev

[infi8ity]

∞

HE WAS AN INEBRIATED HOPELESS MESS.

you could tell as much from the phone call. barely could you make out a sentence through his slurred words and the loud music, but you had picked up on several, i miss you’s and you were my everything’s. 

a small part of you wanted to hang up on him and go back to sleep-- if one could call being wide awake, tossing and turning-- but you were still friends. good friends. it had been a few months but a three year relationship ended through mutual decision didn’t erase a decade’s long friendship. 

and even if the breakup had been messy, you knew that he’d come to you in a heartbeat. 

you found him perched against the wall of the bar, lost in a drunken thought when you drove up. perhaps the thought somewhere along the lines of, why the fuck did i ask my ex to come pick my drunk ass up at 3 in the morning?, was running through his head. because the exact opposite thought was sure running through yours. 

you park the car across the street and can’t help the loud sigh that escapes you. a million different scenarios of how the rest of your night could go, plays through your head and each of them ends with even more heartache on your behalf.

you rest your head against the steering wheel, and mutter to yourself, “grow a pair y/n.” 

exiting the car, you shiver and pull your coat tighter around you, the chilling night’s wind a harsh reminder that he was standing outside shaking like a leaf from his lack of a jacket. it was the middle of winter. how messed up did he get?

you coolly make your way towards him. in utter awe at the sight of you, he leans his head against the brick wall, grinning lazily. that goddamn smile. the lamppost behind you illuminates his features. allowing you to give in to the temptations and admire him once more. his cheeks are dusted pink and his lips are slightly chapped from the cold. his eyes are glossed over and his pupils dilated. 

“hi beautiful,” he says. his voice raspy and hoarse. 

you could say the same to him. but you only narrow your eyes. a silent warning. you knew his tricks and games. “don’t hi beautiful me. It's three in the morning. i have to get up for work in a few hours. you know this.”

he sighs regretfully and slides against the wall to the snow littered concrete. “i do, i know. i’m sorry y/n.” he replies, his head in his hands. 

“and it’s freezing out. where’s your jacket?” 

no response. you lightly toe his shoe with your boot. 

“hey. where’s your jacket? and where are your keys?” 

he looks up at you beneath his lashes and huffs a laugh, void of any humor. “i’ve got no fucking clue y/n. not the slightest. i don’t even know what i’m doing here. i don’t even know why i wasted your time calling you here.” 

“are you okay?” you inquire, voice laced with concern. 

“are you? we haven’t spoken in a while. and i miss you.”

“so you’ve said.” he quirks an eyebrow. “over the phone. among other things.”

“oh,” he groans melodramatically. “how bad?”

“terrible. pretty sure you said something about me having a killer body-,”

“jackass.” 

you shrug and lean against the wall next to him. “hey, you know you can talk to me if something’s going on.”

he nods, acknowledging you. “i know. i know.” he stands, albeit disjointedly and stepping on your toe in the process. “i’m sorry for waking you. i’ll just walk home.” he says to no one in particular, making his way across the street. 

you smack your teeth and reach out for his arm. stubbornly, he pulls against you and you latch on to his fingers, holding tightly. “jesus you’re freezing,” you whisper, your breath forming in the air. “and you’re going the wrong way genius. you live the other way. you’re so fucked up right now you can’t even tell. i don’t want to argue with you. just get in the car.”

he doesn’t bother to reply, he simply opts to stare into your eyes. searching. hoping. and for a second you forget its cold as hell. for a second, you forget that he’s no longer yours. you feel his thumb brush against the back of your hand and you flinch. there it is. that trap. 

you snatch your hand back. nope.

“y/n...” he groans strangely.

“don’t say another word. just get in the-,”

and the motherfucker retches into the snow and on to your boots. 

∞

the car ride to your apartment was silent. thank god. mostly because he’d fallen asleep sometime during the fifteen minute drive. but still, thank everything holy. the silence gave you time to think about whatever the fuck that was and confront the horrifying fact that he still had a choke hold on you. 

you shudder at the thought, all the way from the car to your front door. the shudder stays even as you slip out of your boots marked with bodily fluid and into your house slippers. you toss his dead weight to the sofa collapsing to the floor, breathless, you nearly fall with him. 

you fix a glass of iced water and grab two pain killers and a stomach soothing pill from the kitchen. when you make your way back to the living room, he’s moved from the sofa to the rug. you kick at his unconscious form, startling him

“sorry. take this. wash it down and drink all of it.” you hand him the pills and water, standing directly over him to watch him carefully as he follows your directions. “i’m going to run the shower for you. okay?”

he mutters something incoherent, pulling a pillow from the sofa and flopping on his side comfortably. 

“and take your goddamn shoes off in my house,” you call over your shoulder. “caveman.”

he grunts a caveman-like response.

you snort and shuffle to your bedroom to rummage through the drawers for some of his clothes that you never thought to return. strangely enough most of his shirts and joggers sat in your laundry basket... as if ... a certain someone had been wearing them to bed or late night trips to the store...

the steam from the hot shower engulfs the room whilst you lay out clothing, body wash, an unopened toothbrush, mouthwash, and-- towels. shoot. you open the closet and fish for towels when he stumbles in. 

“oh hey, i was just about to come get you and ohmygodwhatareyoudoing?”

you lift the towels to your eyes to obstruct the view of him pulling his pants down to take a piss. he’s so fucking out of it. you’re sure he hasn’t even noticed your presence. 

“jesus!”

you hurriedly rush out of the bathroom, throwing the towels behind you and running to your room which happened to be void of half naked exes. it was going to be a long night. 

an hour later, you’d nearly drifted back off into sleep when there’s a knock at your door. 

“come in.” you croak, switching on your bedside lamp.

he opens the door, peaking in, fully dressed, hair damp. “you don’t happen to have a blanket or something do you? i was half tempted to use your rug for warmth.” 

you press your palm to your head and curse. “no, i’m sorry, a friend stole my only one because she liked the designs.”

“oh,”

“yeah.”

“that’s fine. goodnight y/n. thank you anyways.” he starts to close the door.

“wait,” you’re going to regret this so much. “honestly you’re plenty familiar with this bed.” he clears his throat at the sudden rush of memories. “just sleep in here. i can make a pillow wall or something.”

the room stands so still and silent it almost makes you want to scream. was that weird to offer? did you overstep? 

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly making his way in. 

no! “yeah, pfft i don’t care.”

“cause i was fine with using your dish towel. really.” you giggle at the smart remark.

a familiar sensation one could only describe as nostalgia fills you when you feel the bed dip in as he crawls in beside you. you’d lived through this night routine countless times. some part of you half hoped that he’d lean over to give you a goodnight’s kiss and tell you he loved you. like he used to. like he did hundreds of times before.

but he doesn’t. 

he simply places a pillow in between you two and you turn out the light. you both had more to say to each other. but in your hearts they were best left as words unspoken.

“goodnight y/n.” i still love you.

“goodnight.” i still love you too.

∞

© infi8ity. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Circa June, 1967

“I-, fuck, I missed him?”

“He just left. Heading out with Soda and the rest of the guys. Why’re you lookin’ for him, anyhow?”

Sylvia readjusts the baby. “I don’t know, Darry,” she admits. “Wanted to say congratulations, I guess. Saw it in the paper yesterday.”

The last time Sylvia Merrill spoke to Darry Curtis, he was standing on her doorstep telling her Dallas was dead. That was nearly three years now. Before she graduated. Before she met Billy. Before she had the little girl snuggled against her chest. Darry’s stature sinks, just a little, he leans against the doorframe and keeps the screen propped open.

“Winnin’ an award,” she says softly. “Now that’s somethin’ you outta be proud of.”

“It’s not much of a suprise,” Darry chuckles, “we all knew Pony would pull it off.”

“Still. S’not like many eastsiders can write like that kid can.”

The conversation could have ended there. With Sylvia saying goodbye and heading back to the station wagon Ms. R had so kindly leant her while Billy was away, but it didn’t.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” he mentions casually. “You still on the east side?”

She almost laughs. Where else would she go? Where else would she be able to afford when keeping the lights on is already a struggle? She doesn’t say that, though. Instead, Sylvia looks down, brushes the blanket away from her daughter’s sleeping face, and answers. “Got a little apartment on the south side-,”

Darry grimaces. Back in their time, no good came from the south side of Tulsa. Three years later, that much hasn’t changed.

“-it’s alright. Good as it can be.”

Darry’s eyes follow her’s.

“Look’s like you have something of your own you must be mighty proud of.”

As much as she wants to deny it, Sylvia can’t squash the pride that blooms in her chest. It’s like she’s a little girl again, showing off her brand new dolly to her cousin on Christmas Day. When Sylvia looks up again, Darry’s eyes are still on the baby, his head cocked to the side. “Loretta, Lori for short. Had her back in… back in April.”

The timeline still makes her cringe. Knocked up the night of her graduation, holed up in a shitty little apartment on a shitty side of town with a shitty boyfriend all before the fine age of twenty. Yet Ponyboy Curtis was all of sixteen, talk of academic scholarships based on that essay already paving his way out of this godforsaken shitty town. Loretta stirs amid the blankets, Sylvia coos softly. The porch creaks as Darry leans forward ever so slightly.

“She’s still a little small, but I’m workin’ on it. Been readin’ ‘bout formula ‘n’ all that other shit. I just want ‘er to be healthy, y’know?”

Darry nods along, lips set in a small smile when Loretta’s face finally pokes through. “It’s hard, isn’t it? All those parenting books, ‘n’ you still don’t have a damn clue what you’re doing.”

She really does laugh this time. “It’s so hard. Honestly, I-, I don’t know how our parents did it. Jesus, Darry, I don’t know how you did it.”

“I look at Pony,” he chuckles, “‘n’ I’m not even too sure myself. Was sure I messed something up, ‘specially during those ‘developmental years’.”

Sylvia sighs. “You did a damn good job, man.”

Darry smiles. “You’re doing a great job, Sylv. She looks like a sweetheart.”

The words fall over her lips before she can even think them through. “You can hold ‘er, if you want. Just not like a football.”

Even more shocking still, is when Darry accepts the offer. Lori looks even more petite cradled in his large, calloused hands, readjusting against his broad chest. He’s smiling down at the baby in his arms, watching her eyelashes flutter. “You wanna come in, Sylv?” He offers. “Can put some coffee on if you’d like. Pony’s essay is just on the table if you wanna read that, too.”

The two are already stepping over the threshold, Darry’s hand extended to dampen the sound of the screen door snapping back into place. “Might take me a minute to sound out all those big words your brother uses,” she chides.

“It ain’t that bad,” Darry laughs, gesturing to the kitchen table, “the kid knows his audience.”

i need to print all of your words on the back of my eyelids so i can read them at every moment of the day because you really have a way with language and making me feel things-

[writefightandflightclub]

What’s Mine is Yours Mine: Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Summary: Nathan has a present for you…

A/n: shameless smut / half-developed PWP I found kicking around in my drafts while I’m having a declutter. I’m getting too in my head about posting smut on here these days, so I thought I’d just bite the bullet and put this out there. Don’t look at me 😅 Originally was going to be part of a larger thing which is why I haven’t posted until now, but I’ll simply leave the rest to your imagination 😉

Warnings / ratings: 18+, explicit, minors do not interact. Dom/sub dynamics, collar, oral sex / throat fuck, mentions of choking. All consensual. Fairly mild compared to some stuff I’ve posted in the past. LOL.

“Come here,” Nathan purrs darkly, and the lust-laden, commanding tone of his voice is eminently familiar. Your muscle memory responds before you do, and you’re already turning towards him before you consciously respond, so used to obliging him by now.

Whatever he’s about to offer, you’re already interested - you can tell from his voice alone.

“What for?”

When you see the look in his eyes, you throw a little sex into your walk, swaying those hips of yours. Slinking over towards him.

“Got something for you,” he explains, moving to sit on the couch, his thick thighs spread wide apart and straining against those slacks of his.

“What is it?”

“Kneel down and maybe I’ll show you.”

You do. You oblige him, your knees settling into the plush rug as you settle in between his spread legs.

“Close your eyes.”

You do, and your heart hammers in anticipation. You reach out for clues, noting he is moving to grab something. You hear a subtle jangle. Something like a buckle. You wonder if he’s liberating himself, hard already, but in the next moment, you feel a sensation like cool leather at your neck.

A collar? You’d been asking for one, and now he’s spoiling you. A flood of heat travels right to your crotch as Nathan’s nimble fingers fasten it around you, deftly threading leather through buckle, until your neck is straining just right against the subtle tightness of it.

Your eyes remain obediently closed, but you hear Nathan hum in satisfaction. “There. Mmm hmm. That’s it.”

Sensing he is done, you open your eyes. You can’t see yourself but you can feel it. The slight tension and give of the collar bracing against your neck as you swallow. Your fingertips come up so you can explore the texture of it, seeking out the cool metal of the “o” ring right in the centre. You know without seeing that the leather is blood red, to match your wrist and ankle cuffs. You know Nathan wouldn’t give you anything but the best.

A devilish smile blooms over your face, and your eyes devour Nathan. Even while you are the submissive, you feel very much in control of where this is going.

“Christ. Jesus. Fuck.” Nathan praises as he drinks the sight of you in like this.

It’s not just the physical feeling of being dominated. The loss of control. More so, it’s the satisfaction that comes from Nathan wanting to “own” you. Knowing how badly he wants to make you his. That he chose you for this, and so much for besides.

“Oh,” you purr. “You like that? Like how I look?”

“You look so…” His fingers skim over your collar, up and down your throat.

“So what, Nathan?”

“So… mine.” His final word is practically a growl. A greedy sound.

“I am. Yours.”

“Yeah? You are?”

Your heavy gaze drops down to his crotch, where you note he is already swelling, a sizeable erection tenting beneath his pants. “Mmm,” you affirm, the sound drawn out and syrupy, hinting at the way you might sound if he treats you nicely. If he makes you feel good.

The pad of Nathan’s thumb brushes along your lower lip, the ghost of a touch. Your breath hitches in your throat, reminding you of the collar as it strains against your neck. Reminding you you’re his. That you belong to him. That he wants you to. Needs you to. “Is this mouth mine?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

You know what he wants. You open up for him, and he abruptly shoves two fingers over your tongue, sliding them all the way to the back of your throat until you gag on them. He tastes like barbell metal. You love it. You hate it. Abruptly, he does it again, his gaze flitting all over your face, awed by your compliance.

“Hnnnnnng,” he praises, shifting himself forward, until he is perched on the very lip of the couch, bringing the straining mass of him closer to your mouth. His thighs box you in, and a smugness drags over his mouth as he reaches out to you, wrapping both of his warm, broad hands around your feeble throat, no doubt feeling your racing pulse beneath his caress.

“Mmm,” he hums again, the sound almost involuntary in his throat - like a pre-programmed command - as he adjusts and settles his fingers one by one, curling them around your neck and that pretty collar. From the sounds he’s making, you have no doubt that the way you lean into it rather than shying away will have his dick throbbing hard and full in his pants. The way you push him for more, his touch far too gentle; for now.

Nathan’s gaze is obsidian by now, blown-out pupils engulfing bark-brown as he reads the dirty heat blazing in your eyes. He doesn’t squeeze yet. Not really. In fact, he kisses you, dragging you to his lips with his hands still folded around your throat in an unfulfilled promise.

The kiss is hungry but restrained, and it only leaves you wanting more.

Nathan shifts then, moving one hand to his crotch, threading leather through belt loops as he finally liberates himself. He bucks his hips slightly forward and you’re so close. So close to having him in your mouth.

You can smell him, musk and salt and skin. You tongue darts out, in anticipation of tasting him.

“You know what to do, Princess.” His tone is dripping with condescension now, but it turns you on. Makes you feel safe, even. “Go slow, don’t strain yourself.”

You part your lips, readying to sink down on his appealing, veined length, the head of him flushed purple with want.

You want him; but you know how to get him.

You hesitate, and then, impatient, desperate, needy Nathan grabs you by the collar at the nape of your neck and shoves you down on him, surging up and into your throat.

This time you don’t even gag. He can use you all he wants - you like it when he does.

You work your lips and tongue along his length, enjoying the way Nathan uses the collar to drag you off of him when it gets too much. When he gets too close to coming undone. You enjoy the pressure you feel around your neck. In your throat. Enjoy the way him filling you up squeezes tears out of the corners of your eyes.

“Who do you belong to?” Nathan stutters darkly, when your mouth has him holding on by a thread, as thin and delicate as the spit trails linking your lips to his cock.

“I’m yours, Nathan,” you sing-song obediently, and with a groan he shoves back into you, every pulse of his cum down your throat showing you how much he loves that you belong to him.

“Mine,” he growls, his hips bucking up into your mouth as he spills himself for you. “All mine.”

Funny - you think, as you eagerly swallow down the salt tang of him. You even think Nathan enjoyed your present just as much as you did. Maybe even a little more, so far; but you know it won’t be long before he evens out that score.

[mouthfullofmunson]

Clueless bestie Eddie though…

Eddie and Y/n have been friends for years and years

It all started when he bumped into her in the hall when they were in 7th grade (mainly because she was staring at him and he didn’t have a clue, he was nose deep into some random book his uncle had given him so he didn’t see the girl staring at him)

And both of their hearts dropped the second their supplies fell out of their hands and onto the floor, scrambling to grab their books. “I didn’t even see you. Jesus Christ, I’m sorry!”

And y/n is so choked up and shocked that the boy is even talking to her all she can say is “I love that book”

“Oh, you’ve read it?”

“I- well yeah. Who hasn’t? I’ve read it like a thousand times.”

“My uncle just gave it to me. It’s really good so far”

And that’s how their friendships started

And 7 years later eddie still hasn’t noticed the way y/n looks at him, she’s absolutely head over heels in love with this man

Even hopelessly in love with him when he starts dating some random twenty something year old who got a job at the hideout

And he talks about her all the time to y/n

“She’s just so sweet. She said she loves my hair and never wants me to cut it. And she said that she would love to watch hellfire and I’m going to teach her how to play d&d.”

“I tell you I love your hair all the time Eddie…”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to say that stuff! You’re my best friend.”

Great way to get friend zoned

And I can see y/n getting really hurt because he’s spending more time with his girlfriend and less time with y/n

And the limited time they have together is now spent fighting because

“I’ve missed this! We haven’t had a movie night in forever but I told Harrington that we’re having a best friend movie night so I need the best horror marathon he could wrack up.”

“Yeah we haven’t had anytime together.”

“Well yeah, I know. I’ve missed you. But I’ve got a girlfriend now.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just forget about me. If I was dating someone I would still make all the time in the world for you, Eddie. That’s because you mean a lot to me.”

“Are you seriously starting a fight on the one day we have together?”

“It doesn’t have to be one day, Eddie!”

“It does! And don’t make me feel bad for having a girlfriend just because I’m the only friend you have.”

“Fuck you eddie”

But of course, late one night y/n hears ticks at her window, sliding the window up to see Eddie shimmying up and sliding into her room. His eyes red, tears streaming down his cheeks, sniffling

He grabs one of the tissues on her nightstand and blows his nose, sitting there and hugging while harshly brushing his tears away

“What’s wrong, Eddie? What happened? Is it Wayne? Is he okay? Oh fuck, did he lose his job?”

“We broke up.”

“You broke up?”

“Well, she broke up with me.”

“Why’d she break up with you?”

“Cause she said she never really liked me that much and something with her using me to get back at her boyfriend. It’s all really childish and stupid.”

Y/n sits next to him and pulls him in a hug because as much as she hates him for what he did while he was with that girl but Eddie is her best friend after all and she feels terrible that he is so heartbroken

“No, that really sucks, Ed. I’m so sorry. I know you liked her.”

“I didn’t even like her that much, actually. She was such an asshole. I just loved being loved, you know? It felt so good to be loved by someone who didn’t have to… and even then. You know…”

And she finally has the courage to wipe his tears and press her lips to his big, puffy, chapped from being bitten at lips

And when they finally pull apart Eddie is so speechless and his hand comes up to brush over his lips, licking over them

Y/n is just proud she got the courage to kiss him, and she’s trying to focus even though she’s buzzing with excitement because the taste of him is still on her (which is cigarettes and apple juice)

“I love you, eddie. I actually love you. I know you have trouble trusting people but I would never do what she did to you. I really love you. More than a friend.”

“More than a best friend?”

“Yes!” She jumps up from her spot on the bed

“It’s not like a brother thing. You don’t see me like a brother?”

“No, Eddie! I’ve loved you since seventh grade. Do you know how crazy I’ve gone watching you date that girl. And you’ve been so fucking clueless all these years!”

Eddie finally has his “it was you all along” moment and grabs her hips, pulling her into him and kissing her like I’d be their last

And the next time Eddie takes y/n back to his trailer, looking all lovestruck while he holds Y/n close, leading her toward his bedroom

And Wayne sits there, drinking a cup of coffee

“I see you finally found out that girls in love with you. I thought you’d never figure it out, boy.”

Wayne definitely teases them 24/7 🤭

Okayyyyy!!! That’s all my thoughts!

Let me know yours if you have any!

:)

[starry-night-skyes]

Oc Incorrect Quotes P1 (MC Edition)

DAISES: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Alina! Neither of them die Alina: … DAISES: … Alina: So do you wanna talk about somethi- DAISES: No thank you.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Have you done this before? Alina: Well, Zia, it's like if you read the script you come better prepared. Vinni: That's not what we do in the US, we don't read things. Zia: I don't read, Alina.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Wow, I feel happy and I’m having so much fun! Zia: Zia: narrows eyes Something’s wrong here.

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? DAISES: Fake?

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: I have a 1:30 appointment. Meridian: Which doctor? Azaela: No, I want the regular doctor.

|---|---|---|---|

Alina: We need a plan to beat them. Vinni: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Alina: Vinni: Judge me all you want, I get results.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Alina: sighs Alina: I killed a man.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. Leith: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely! Leith: With NAPALM.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: What do we think of Zia? pause DAISES: sighs Nice pal. Meridian: I think they're gay.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: There. How do I look? Vinni: Like a cheap French harlot. Meridian: French?!

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I wish I had acid. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Who the fuck- Azaela: Language! Meridian: Whom the fuck- Azaela: No.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? Alina: Are you calling me short? Leith: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Hey DAISES, Vinni just broke my seashell lamp. DAISES: Neat. I’m gonna die alone. Meridian: Okay, you win.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I have lots of friends! Zia: Name one. Vinni: Well, there’s- Zia: Name one you haven’t gotten incredibly angry at. Vinni: Hey, that’s not fair, then there isn’t any!

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

|---|---|---|---|

DAISES: We are gathered here today because someone- glares at Zia’s coffin -couldn’t stay alive!

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Meridian! Vinni got that thing on the control panel working! Meridian: Wow! That looks pretty impressive. Azaela: Yeah! Meridian: Any idea what it does? Azaela: Not a clue.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: Shh, here comes Zia! Alina: Quick, DAISES, start talking about boring nerd stuff! DAISES: You know, nerd culture is mainstream now, so when you use the word “nerd” derogatorily, it means you’re the one that’s out of the zeitgeist. Alina: Yes, that’s perfect. Just like that.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia, on the phone: Oh, hey man! Sorry for accusing you of murder last week.

|---|---|---|---|

DAISES: We have a problem. Alina: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

|---|---|---|---|

Alina: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan. Leith: We could attack them with hummus. Alina: I stand corrected. Leith: Just keeping things in perspective.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Did you just refer to a knife as a “people-opener”? Vinni: Vinni: …Should I not have?

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club. Vinni: What club? Leith: The hating Vinni club. Vinni: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I’m this close to falling in love with Leith. Zia: Your fingertips are touching. Vinni: Exactly.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Hey DAISES, can you give me the opposite of these words? Meridian: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down. DAISES: Never, Going, To, Give, You- DAISES: The fucking satisfaction.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us. Alina: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

|---|---|---|---|

( @minnesotamedic186 )

[every-dayiwakeup]

Fighting Noises

Also available on ao3

Steve had been against the idea from the start, but once Billy decided something, he was just as immovable as Steve. Plus, they had just started dating, and the last thing Steve wanted was for their spark to fizz out so soon.

Whatever it takes to be happy, right?

Now, as Billy strides toward him wearing his best “I hate you” face, Steve really wishes he’d pushed a little more.

                                       —----------------------------------------------

“You want us to do what?”

“I said, I want us to pretend we fucking hate each other’s guts,” Billy repeated like he was suggesting what they order for dinner.

“No, no, I got that. But why?”

“Because , Harrington.”

Whoever said boys were less complicated than girls was a single, dumb sack of shit.

“Is this about your father?”

“Contrary to popular belief, my problems don’t all revolve around him.”

Steve sat up on his bed, giving Billy his undivided attention. “Then what is it about?”

“We agreed to keep… us a secret.”

Steve opened his mouth to interrupt, but Billy continued, “I don’t give a shit if no one knows. Just pull King Steve back out of your ass, and I’ll be my usual, delightful self.” He raised his eyebrows, as if he expected Steve to imply otherwise. Something about how he’d said “delightful” sounded derogatory.

Instead, Steve kissed the frown off Billy’s face until a tentative smile took its place. Unfortunately, that strange plan of his wasn’t forgotten.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

Is that your best attempt at being the worst? Steve wants so badly to laugh at his goof of a boyfriend, but then Billy would give him an agonizing silent treatment for as long as he could actually remain silent, which was surprisingly a decent chunk of time.

I did say I’d play my part.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

Your move, now.

“What’s going on out there, Steve?”  Dustin yells from inside the Byers’ house.

“Nothing, dipshit.”

“Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard Billy’s voice.”

Billy flinches, and Steve doesn’t blame him. The kid makes his name sound like a curse word.

“Yeah, it’s me, Anderson,” Billy recovers quickly, smirking.

“Henderson!” “Don’t care.” He gives Steve a dirty look, mouthing, “Do I gotta do everything around here?” before spitting, “Watch your fucking mouth, Harrington.”

“Talking to yourself again, Hargrove?” He hates Billy’s last name because he knows how much Billy hates it.

“I know my stepsister is here. Come on out, Maxine!”

“She’s not here. Why don’t you get back in your little car and drive back home?” Don’t.

“No can do.” Billy shoves Steve hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and looks down at him with disdain, his cigarette still in his mouth somehow. “I thought I told you to plant your feet.”

Billy invents a whole new level of pretty when he’s angry, even if it’s an act. He really does take Steve’s breath away.

“You’re a fucking asshole. What’d I ever do to you?”

“I don’t like liars.”

Steve reaches forward and pulls Billy on top of him. I wanna kiss you so bad right now; you have no fucking clue.

“Do it,” Billy spits, tugging Steve’s collar.

Jesus Christ, can he read minds?

“Punch me.”

“Huh?”

“Punch. Me.”

“I’m not gonna punch you, idiot. What the fuck?” Steve hisses, horrified. He’s never wanted to kill a man more than he’s wanted to kill Neil Hargrove.

“Why not? Scared, Harrington?”

“I’m not doing this.” “Commit to the role, c’mon!”

“It was your idea, not mine!”

“You went along with it.”

“Until tonight. I’m not hitting you.”

“You know you want to. Everyone wants a shot at me.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” “You can’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of giving me a big ole shiner.”

“The only bruises I wanna give you are when I leave behind a hickey or two.” Steve nips the tender flesh of Billy’s neck, and Billy whines so loud it shocks him.

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” he growls, pushing Steve’s chest.

“How about we come up with a new plan? Sound good?” Steve unbuttons Billy’s remaining buttons with his teeth and starts teasing him, pretending to bite his tits, but then nibbling on his earlobes instead.

“Gahhhhhhhh!”

“You’re gonna wake the dead.”

Billy weakly tries kneeing Steve’s dick. “You-shut-up.”

Steve leans in, grinning. “What was that?” “Why are you - nghh - being so difficult? Just do it already!”

“No. I said-”

“Not that…” Billy’s voice grows quieter. “The other thing.”

“Why did you even come up with this stupid ass idea in the first place?”

“Just kiss me like you said you would-” “Not until you answer my question.”

“Didn’t think you wanted… people to know you were with a boy. With me.”

“You mean people at school? The kids?”

Billy stops wriggling around under him.

Bullseye.

“S stupid, I shouldn’t care what anyone, least of all Maxine’s stupid brat pack thinks of me.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t care about what they think, not of you. I don’t need their approval. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Kiss me,” Billy demands. “Kiss me right fucking now.”

[worldofbullettrain]

The Roommates

Tangerine & Y/N

3 parter

“Lemon!! Where are my airpods!” Y/N yelled in a fit, ripping through her bed sheets in a thought that they may have fallen into some endless void, and your only plan now was to blame one of your temporary roommates.

“No clue, Blueberry.” Lemon yelled from the other room. That was strange, as Lemon was normally this slick rat that borrowed your things with no thought of returning them. There was a heavy sigh before you called out the other one.You and Tangerine did not get along, you haven’t since the day you met. If he wasn’t such a pretentious asshole who was more concerned about his facial hair than the human race, you might've found some semblance in enjoying his presence, but since that was not the case, you hated each other. As you yelled out his name, the silence was loud. You huffed out, feeling the ignorance already flooding into your room. Tangerine never really stepped foot in your room, and barely had he made his way nearer to your door, he seemed to always keep a practical 5-foot distance from it. You could have sworn that he wouldn’t take your things, because he was even grossed out by the plates you touched. You wanted to continue to search your room for the missing airpods, but something was telling you that they had made their way out of your room. As you left your room, you called the man again, still no answer. You now dug through the couch.

“Is he even here?” You looked at Lemon and he shrugged, scrolling through his phone. You rolled your eyes at his dismissal.

“Words are great. I know they are tough for Thomas fans like you, still learning and all.” You smirked. Lemon gasped and dropped his phone on his lap. You yelled out “Tangerine!” one more time to stop Lemon from his upcoming rant.

You looked over at the hallway leading to the room where Tangerine stayed. You were hesitant in even approaching the dark hallway. You walked over and saw his room door closed. You walked down and continued to yell his name every time you stepped closer. There was still no response. You finally got to the door, and knocked three times, calmly stating his name at first. There was still no response.

“He must’ve stepped out.” You said to yourself, but loud enough for Lemon to hear, you hear Lemon chuckle as you start down the hall. That was until you heard a thud in Tangerine’s room, and a quick “shit.”

You turn quickly on your heels, now yelling his name.

“Stop ignoring me, you arse!” You are now banging on the door.

“I am coming in, damnit!” You said on your final knocks. You bust through the door, the sight before you leaving your jaw on the floor. Tangerine in a pair of sweatpants, spinning around like a fool.

“Let’s get physical, physical..” The whispered hums coming from him were enough to make you cackle, yet you stood in front of him with nothing but your mouth open and furrowed brows. Your white airpods, tucked in his ears as he continued to dance around his room, not a thought of you being behind him in mind.

There was about a solid 10 seconds more before he finally opened his eyes and he jumped in the air, with a scream.

“What, the actual, fuck?” You said, as Tangerine held his hand over his chest, trying to catch his breath while also turning red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Jesus, you cunt, can’t you fucking knock?” He yelled out at you. You raised a brow, and crossed your arms. “I did.” You said sternly, not really sure how else to respond to the harsh word he decided to call you. “Get out.” He said.

“Uhm, no. I need my airpods, thank you very much.” You said now stepping towards him.

“Shit, give me like 20 more minutes. Please.”

“No! I need them for the gym, and that is right now.” You protested, now sticking your hand out. “Why did you go in my room in the first place?” You continued, now getting visibly annoyed at your roommate.

“I didn’t want too, but I needed to fucking decompress.” He responded. “You only use them when you’re watching porn anyway.” There it was, the comment you had been waiting for. He turned back around and pointed you towards the door before placing the headphone back in ear.

You let out a scream before attacking the man in front of you, tackling him onto his bed.

“Holy shit, you fucking psycho! He yelled as he held your prying arms in front of him the sounds of “Let’s get Physical” pumping through the white ear buds was like a stinging ambiance to the fight. You pulled back and punched him on his side, earning an angry ‘umph’ from him. He didn’t take lightly to your actions and now restrained both of your wrists above your head, before pulling his legs around your sides and flipping you onto your back. He sat on you now, and you wiggled below him, a slight glint his eyes showed briefly, causing you to stop moving your hips, and realize the position you both were in. His eyes were dark, and you knew it was time to get this man off of you. You pushed him off and onto the floor, where he fell with a loud thud.

You hopped up, and extended your hand once more, while the other fixed your hair.

He reached for his ears, only to find both the ear buds now missing.

“Well, shit.” He said.

“Must be lost in the sheets..” He winked.

[wowowokay]

(Sorry this isn’t Batman related) rant// I just want to be in a relationship so bad rn or at least a new friend ship or something!! But mainly a relationship. I want someone to fuck up a dominos pizza with ya know? Like that deal that’s going on rn its something like two pizzas and two sides I want someone to devour that with me and not judge me for being a pig like I’m an ex big girl I can eat! But I’m now a medium sized girl so I will be judged for eating but anyways you might be asking “why don’t you just do this with friends??” Oh yes why haven’t I thought of that, my friends, one I don’t even see once a month,(I love her so much but jesus does it kill me) and my other friend who hates dominos(and honestly I think at this point she hates me but oh well just over ten years of friend ship) ah yes my two friends but whatever just get into a relationship I’M SCARED TO DO THAT!!! I’ve tried a dating app before and got no results almost, the closest I got to a relationship on there was me and this dude talking for over a month then when me being bi got brought up he went on a rant talking about how “he values his relationship with god,” and “you could never bring it up around my family,” so that obviously didn’t last and someone I know (let’s call her P) is like “hey I’ve got this cousin, he’s single, he’s kinda nerdy like you, he likes musicals like you, and he’s down to meet you, but he didn’t want me to just give him your phone number he thought that would be weird,” and I’m like aw he lowkey sounds perfect and now I’ve just been waiting for when me and that person hangout again cause how the fuck are we supposed to schedule a date or a hangout if we don’t have each others numbers??? Like how??? But it’s okay cause me and P should be hanging out next weekend and I’m gonna harass her about what we’re gonna do cause I have a semi good date planned like we could go to the zoo and if we’re vibing after that we could go get some coffee or lunch at a nearby restaurant/cafe oh and did I forget to mention I’ve never been on a date? Ever really? Well it’s okay cause from the sound of it he hasn’t either!! But I’m also incredibly awkward and probably a little autistic and definitely adhd and overall just neurodivergent so yay!!! So fun!!!! But anyways whatever what happens, happens. Anyways I think I’m gonna be turning my tumbler into my personal diary and Batman related ranting cause yay!!! Anyways I think that’s it lolol have a good day I might keep posting this related stuff I have no clue, have a good day!!! :))

(I love how this went from me wanting to be a fatass and just devour dominos with someone else, to me talking about how I might(?) be going on a date soon and other personal parts of my life lolol lovely!)

[stephs-place]

I keep thinking

I’ve spent the past two days alone in this room. I haven’t really wanted to, but nonetheless I’m still here. I don’t feel particularly great, there's a pain on my side a lot of the time, it's not always very sharp but there’s usually a dull ache, I don’t know if it's something I should worry about if I'm being honest. I haven’t been sleeping well, or well I guess I’ve been sleeping wrong. I can’t seem to stay awake during the day, I don’t like how the light feels, I hate how it catches on things. I can’t control it, its disordered, disregular, and most importantly they’re far too many people to see when I fuck up. I prefer it at night, things are quieter, the earliest I’ll go out is around 7, but it really depends on the time of year. I sometimes get the urge to go out sooner, to catch the sunset. But I always talk myself down, I have too. I don’t go to many places, mainly just the corner store, and occasionally the K-Mart if I'm feeling up to the bus. 

I haven’t wanted to stay inside for so long, It wasn’t my intention I was just too scared. I was ready to go out, I think it was a thursday, I had my big sweatshirt on the one that really covers me, but it wasn’t enough. I panicked when I first got outside, the world felt so big, I couldn’t reconcile with the scale of it all. I needed to be somewhere that I knew, somewhere that couldn’t just change on me, I wanted to be home. I didn’t even make it past my neighbors door, something about seeing the stars from the balcony, the way the skyline enveloped everything, I felt so fucking small. I’ve been inside since, but I'm not sure what I’m gonna do once I run out of food. I’ve been trying to not eat too much, or maybe trying isn’t the right word, I honestly haven’t been hungry at all. I know I should be, I feel like there's even times where It hurts, where my stomach claws and screams, it wants me to listen, but I find it tough to heed its warning. 

I haven’t really done much of anything. I’ve been sleeping a lot more, like a lot, I think yesterday it was for almost 14 hours. The day didn’t feel real, the only real moment that even stuck out was when I finally woke up and went for a cigarette. I hate smoking inside, but going out wasn’t an option, so I compromised on opening my bedroom window. It overlooks another part of the complex. Sometimes I peer out and see if I can spot anything interesting. Today it wasn’t my intention though. It was a struggle to even open the window, it's a weird foldout one, rusted as hell, it made its protest known in the grinding sound as I cranked the thing open. I did it though, and as I started to puff away I just stared out and I noticed something. It was a girl, or I should say a woman. She wasn’t doing anything in particular, just sort of sitting and staring,  but it was something and I guess I must have wound up staring at her for a bit, because at one point she looked right back. We met eyes, or at least I think we did, it's tough to tell from a distance, and we just sort of looked at eachother. It was weird I think, or maybe it wasn’t, it honestly just sounds stupid the more I think about it. But for some reason the moment stuck to me, in fact it's been stuck in my mind.

I haven’t been able to get the thought of her out of my head. It doesn’t usually happen like this, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about someone the way I have about her. She was pretty, but not in the way that an actor is pretty, or someone in a magazine, instead it was like this prettiness of the soul. The way she looked at me, Jesus, I replay that moment in my head hundreds of times a day. I want to see her so bad, to tell her how I feel, how she's made me feel. I’ve kept the window open ever since, I look out all the time, I just want to see her so bad. Sometimes I wish she’d just appear at my door, but the issue is that I have no idea what I’d say, I don’t have any clue how I’d approach her, what I’d do. I wonder a lot if she thinks about me, she probably doesn’t, there's almost no chance she does. But I still think about it a lot. 

I hate how i think

I hate how it goes like this

I want things to better so bad

I want things to improve

I want to be with her

I want to be better

I think I could do better

I’m just so scared

I feel so fucking alone

[meanderingthoughtsofthewretched]

Back again.

Another night staying up way too late crying because am I’m trying to fall asleep my brain starts dredging up shit. I was done literally less than an hour ago, but now? Crying again and I know I won’t stop for a while unless I actively distract myself, so might as well type here.

I guess I’ll start with the big one. I was not accepted into grad school. Again. For the *third fucking year in a row*. When I first got the news I was sad, sure, but more than that I was just pissed. I tried *so fucking hard* because *no one* was helping me. I don’t know what people want, what they expect, and I’m just flailing around in the dark.

Yeah, I know the first year was my bad. In my defense, I had not clue what I was doing. I spent wayyyyy too long studying for the stupid fuckjng GRE (why the shit do they have math that I haven’t seen since 7th grade????) and not near enough time on the statement of purpose, cv, or resume. But also in my defense, I didn’t know what schools I was trying to apply for because I was *literally* told certain ones I was not allowed to go to (which I bet my dad conveniently forgot he did) and then the ones I found I was told sucked ass. By the time I was told this (because of course no one fucking told me on their own, I had to fuck up first) it was too late to apply for any of the good ones. Yes, I was someone picky, but god forbid the tiny short ass 100 pound soaking wet sheltered kid not want to go across country **by herself** with *no drivers license or car* and no experience living in an apartment. So I applied to where I could and crossed my fingers.

Obviously, that didn’t work out. Year two, I tried to go for one school only, that way I could tailor my letter better. I thought I did good, but the panic attacks I got any time o tried to work on it made it take too long, and one of my profs didn’t get their letter of recommendation in on time, this I was auto denied. Which sucks, but I understood why.

So try again! Except, the time when I could have been connecting with profs, and writing, I had to spend relearning how to drive and then actually taking the damn test. Fuck, I hated that entire experience. I was constantly anxious and panicked, crying myself to sleep most nights and struggling to hold it together in front of my parents, who were acting like it was the easiest thing in the world to do and didn’t understand why I was struggling. I had to redo everything because wow! Paperwork can expire! And when I last did all of this *two fucking years earlier* they didn’t help me, and left me to flounder. I don’t know why they thought I could magically learn how to drive a car without *being in one* but I guess it didn’t matter that much to them until it was an inconvenience and actually affected them.

Anyways, this year I don’t know why I didn’t get it. I can only guess. Was it because I only had one bio prof, and the other two were other branches? (Earlier prof who got in late decided she just… didn’t want to, and made it my problem because she also took almost a month to answer me, requiring me to find a prof that was willing to write on an incredibly short notice.) Was it because it was turned in close to the deadline? If so, why have the deadline there??? It makes no sense. And I hate that it is during winter break, because if something goes wrong you have to work your ass off to get anyone to answer you about stuff. I also couldn’t show that I was upset, or worried, because that might have made my lil sister upsetti about going back for another semester 🙃

Every single. Fucking. Time I have any problems, someone else has it worse so I have to bite my tongue to not make it worse *for them*. Especially the bean. Jesus I hate that I’m here essentially as an emotional support sister, because my parents were tired of her losing her shit at the smallest things.

And yet!!! She has her life together!! Holy fuck! She’s got a car that she likes that she is confortable driving, a boyfriend who is willing to come see her at the drop of a hat, friends who she regularly sees and hangs out with and are willing to take her places, gaming consoles that are just hers, and a place to stay that is away from parents and where she feels she can be herself. She’s got a job and an internship *paid*, like **well paid** coming up that will likely lead her to other jobs, profs that like her and have said they are willing to write her recommendations, and it’s all been handed to her on a fucking platter.

I was not allowed to learn how to drive until now, much less have a car. No significant other to see or hang with. Friends are far away and don’t bother initiating contact (I have a whole rant saved for later about that). I’ve literally never had my own console to play on, they have all been shared and eventually taken away by my siblings, much less the tv and projector she has. I feel trapped here, and watched. I was literally not allowed to have a job and now can’t do anything because the walkable things are for students only and *I don’t have a fucking car*. One of my profs straight up said she doesn’t want to bother writing for me anymore because I’m not worth it. Basically any opportunity in college was squashed thanks to COVID and me not taking a year off when I should have. And now all opportunities are limited to students so I can’t even get any more experience to try and because a student to actually move on in life. And I just??? What the fuck am I supposed to do??? All I can do is cry.

I haven’t told my dad yet, I have no idea how he will take it. He will probably get mad.

My mum actually had the gall to ask me if I actually want to get a masters. I told her yes, but in reality?? How the fuck should I know??? I was never allowed to have a damn opinion about things involving my life, why start now?? She was the one who decided my life path, hell she tried to decide that for all my siblings, and I was the only one who didn’t say no. So, no, I don’t know if I actually want this, I don’t know what I want to do at all, this is her dream. Be been so damn depressed for so long, all I want is to have a stable life.

All I want is somewhere to live with people I choose, who I don’t feel obligated to take care of, a stable job that pays decently so I can occasionally get things I like, and isn’t soul crushing, a car that gets me places safely, and the ability to breathe without being constantly stressed out.

Is that really so much to ask???

I’ll do the friend rant later, but I’m. Too tired. It took over an hour to write this and it’s just ramble at this point.

Fuck

[just-some-random-blogger]

[withering on the floor devastated]

“I like Joel,”

Same

Joel was your patrol partner. He was tall, handsome, brave, and skilled. He had the most gorgeous brown eyes you had ever seen, and the prettiest gentle curls atop his head. And he couldn’t fucking stand you. 

Youre so real for that bestie. Enemies to lovers GO!

And he did keep you safe. But not without constant grumbling and griping about your sprightly attitude and constant chatter. He thought he had it rough with Ellie, but she was a walk in the park compared to you, with your sweet and pure heart and bubbly personality. 

I WANT HIM I NEED HIM OH BABY OH BABY

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?” you asked him once while traveling horseback through a grassy meadow. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were big and fluffy and tall. The wildflowers were blooming left and right, painting the grass with violet and crimson. You held onto Joel tightly, pressing your face against his back. He tried his best to ignore how much he enjoyed the feeling of your arms around his stomach. 

HOW DOES IT FEEL LIVING MY DREAM

“Gaah!” Joel swatted your hand, nearly losing his balance. “Jesus, fucking snickerdoodles!” he hissed at you. Oh, how you got under his skin. Snickerdoodles were, in fact, his favorite cookies.

😭😭😭😭 I THOUGHT HE USED SNICKERDOODLES AS A CUSS WORD AND I WAS LIKE WHAT AN OLD MAN NO CAP

So you pinched his side.

🧍

You pinched him again. 

Damn plot armor real congrats on living

“Joel,” Tommy warned back, matching his tone. “Quit your bitchin’. She’s a nice girl, and you’re gonna take care of her. She likes you, why, I haven’t got a clue.”

WE LOVE TOMMY I LOVE HOW JOELS WRONG YNS RIGHT AS IT SHOULD BE

“What’d you do now, trouble?” 

NOTHING DADDY

“Yeah, actually. Pinchin’ me. Talkin’ too much,” Joel did his best to bite back the smile threatening to form on his lips. “And now you’re tryin’ to make me fat, so yeah. You’re a troublemaker.”

DAMN NOT THE MAKIN ME FAT JAIL NOW GIVING YOU FOOD IS A CRIME FUCK OFF

In your fuzzy state, you reached forward and held Joel’s face, mimicking how he did to you. “Handsome,” you murmured. 

🧍 but same

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Joel turned his head to the side and coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from his face as you pouted. “Think she needs to go home.”

NAUR NOT YOU GETTING K ZONE

Joel apologized quickly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that,”

😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤 DAMN STRAIGHT

“I’ll do anything for you, Joel,” you erupted into a fit of giggles. “You’re so strong!” 

Joel begins walking slowly, taking careful steps. You stumble along and can hardly maintain your footing as you make your way out of the bar. You’re still giggling and squeezing his arm. “You are so strong and so handsome!” you squeal.

GIRLLLL 😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀 ARE YOU NOTT EMBARRAZZED THIS IS. SO EMBARRAZZING FOR YOUR SOUL but same

“I have a crush on you,” you blurt out with slurred speech.

😞 real

“That’s nice, trouble,” Joel said, not believing you. You might as well be completely wasted, the way you were making no sense. 

NO NOT HIM K ZONING YOU AGAIN PLEASE REACT MORE APPROPRIATELY TO MY FEELINGS YOU OLD RAGGEDY FUCK

“Woah,” he barks at you, unable to contain his shock at your sudden boldness. Where is your fucking filter? Is this even real? Joel will be thinking of this night for weeks to come. “You have brain damage,” he tells you. “Need to stop talking like this,”

“Fine by me, handsome!” you poke his back and his sides. He’s trying to fight off the tingles your touch leaves on his skin. “Are you gonna take me home and have sex with me?”

DAMN SHE REALLY JUST GOIN FOR IT AND WE RESPECT HER

“Behave,” he warns you. “No, I am not having sex with you. I’m puttin’ you to bed and going to try to forget any of this ever happened. Now quiet, you.”

B E H A V E ?

wHAT A KILL JOY WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT HUH PUNK

You reach forward and pinch his ass with your thumb and pointer finger. Joel jumps and whips around. “What is wrong with you?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, but his frustrated heart softens when he sees your expression. You’re smirking, eyes big and without a single thought behind them.

Thats me a s fucck

“Is that right? Coffee beans?” Well, that’s a thoughtful compliment. He doesn’t bother hiding his smile anymore. 

Brain Scramblies

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader

Summary: Bubbly and sweet Reader slips and falls at Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party, hitting her head hard on the floor. Tommy tasks Joel, her grumpy patrol partner, with getting her home safe. In her dazed state, she spills to Joel how she really feels about him! Basically two idiots dancing around their feelings for each other

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Talk of traumatic brain injuries, but that’s it. Brief mention of smut but mostly goofy fluff. Joel is afraid of feelings lol

A/N: I actually don't feel fantastic about this story, but felt like you all deserved something new from me to satisfy the absence. Next week I'll have a bit more time to continue my bd!joel story and a few others! yes, the title is from wwdits. my other favorite show lol

if you like this story, please leave me a comment 🩷

masterlist

It’s a beautiful night, laughter and music fill the air of the Tipsy Bison bar in Jackson, Wyoming. It’s Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party and you were having a ball celebrating with the two of them. Tommy and Maria loved you, and you loved them. You often babysat their child, took care of chores around their home, and brought them baked goods and other treats. They loved you like you were their own. 

The party was a blast, you spent the night dancing and chatting with Tommy and Maria and others. It couldn’t have been a better night.

Until you trip over your own feet. .

Boom. In one swift motion, too quick for your brain to process, your legs kick up into the air and your back slams the ground, your head following suit. 

Your vision goes dark then, voices fading out. You feel a strong pair of hands grip your shoulders and jiggle your face slightly. You open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times, and the figure in front of you speaks. “Hey, now. Wake up, wake up, Jesus, girl. What did you do?” he asks, but his words sound muddled, like he’s underwater. “Maria, go get Joel. I think she might have a concussion.” he shouts in the opposite direction.

Your fuzzy vision focuses then and you recognize the friendly face and long black hair in front of you. It’s Tommy. You squint your eyes and look around, confused as to why you’re on the floor. The lights are blindingly bright and the music is blaring. It’s too much for your senses. 

“Can you hear me, honey? You took quite a tumble and it looked like you hit your head pretty hard. Drink too much?” 

You struggle to respond, finding it difficult to form words and coherent thoughts. You feel dazed and foggy and there’s a pounding throb at the back of your head. and “Think I tripped,” you finally mumble out, carefully prodding the back of your skull. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time, you klutz,” he chuckled, tilting your chin and looking into your eyes. “Maria’s getting Joel, I think we’re gonna have him take you home. Infirmary’s closed at this time of night but we can get you checked out tomorrow, make sure you didn’t thump your head too hard.”

Joel. Your eyes widened at the mention of him. Now that was something your brain had no issue focusing on. “Your older brother, Joel?” 

“Yes, Joel, my older brother,”

“I like Joel,”

“I know you do, honey,”

“I really like Joel,” you say through a long sigh. “Isn’t he just lovely?”

Tommy looks at you with an eyebrow cocked, completely amused by your honesty. Tommy and Maria had a feeling you were crushing on him, but you stayed tight lipped about your feelings for him. “Yeah, sure. Lovely describes Joel perfectly,”

Joel was your patrol partner. He was tall, handsome, brave, and skilled. He had the most gorgeous brown eyes you had ever seen, and the prettiest gentle curls atop his head. And he couldn’t fucking stand you. 

You didn’t often go on patrol, but everyone pitched in with patrol around Jackson. Being so near and dear to Tommy and Maria’s hearts, they wanted the best for you and always put you on patrol with Joel. He’d keep you safe, they told you. 

And he did keep you safe. But not without constant grumbling and griping about your sprightly attitude and constant chatter. He thought he had it rough with Ellie, but she was a walk in the park compared to you, with your sweet and pure heart and bubbly personality. 

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?” you asked him once while traveling horseback through a grassy meadow. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were big and fluffy and tall. The wildflowers were blooming left and right, painting the grass with violet and crimson. You held onto Joel tightly, pressing your face against his back. He tried his best to ignore how much he enjoyed the feeling of your arms around his stomach. 

“You ask too many goddamn questions,” he grunted.

“That’s not an answer,” you scolded playfully. 

Joel stayed silent. You were like an annoying, buzzing bee. If he ignored you, hopefully you’d go away. Easy, he thought. Just ignore the annoying, cute, thoughtful, and beautiful bee. 

You asked him again. Maybe he didn’t hear you, you spoke into his right side after all. Still, nothing. “Joel?”

You could hear him inhale and exhale deeply. He was definitely ignoring you. That just wouldn’t do. 

So you pinched his side.

He yelped in surprise. “Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I asked you a question,”

“I’m not answerin’,”

“That’s rude of you,”

“Yeah, well, tough,”

You pinched him again. 

“Gaah!” Joel swatted your hand, nearly losing his balance. “Jesus, fucking snickerdoodles!” he hissed at you. Oh, how you got under his skin. Snickerdoodles were, in fact, his favorite cookies. He wasn’t just saying that to shut you up. His grandmother used to make them for him and Tommy when they were young. His heart broke a little at the thought of her, thankful she had passed long before the world went to shit. “Happy now?”

Yes, you were happy. You rubbed soothing circles into where you pinched him. 

The next day, you whipped up a batch of the best snickerdoodles Joel would ever taste. You dropped them off on his doorstep and left, not alerting Joel or Ellie to what you had done.

Ellie was the one to find your cookies. “Joel, what’re these?” she called into their home, shoving a cookie into her mouth. Joel looked up, rolling his eyes when he recognized the treats in her hand. “Give me those,” he grumbled. 

He took one cookie and examined it, then brought it to his lips. He took a bite, and melted when he tasted the sweet cinnamon and sugar cookie, so buttery and slightly tangy, just how a snickerdoodle should be. It was soft and chewy, just how he liked them.

And dear lord, it was orgasmic. The best snickerdoodle he had ever tasted. He prayed his grandmother up in heaven would forgive him for enjoying it so much, but this was definitely his new favorite. How dare you weasel your way into his heart with baked goods? What a contemptible thing to do. He felt his heart swell at the thought of you and your sweetness. And it fucking terrified him.

Joel put on his boots and practically sprinted to Tommy and Maria’s. Without knocking, he let himself inside and sat down at the table with Tommy as he tried to catch his breath. Tommy looked at him with wide eyes, completely perplexed by his brother. “You have to–” he stopped for a second, breathing in and out deeply. “You have to take her off patrol with me. I ain’t gonna be her partner anymore.” Joel’s heaving began to slow.

“And why would I do that, Joel?”

“She talks too much,”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. Joel Miller, ever the grinch. Heart two sizes too small. “Are we eight years old? Suck it up, big brother,”

Joel shook his head, squinting his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose. “She fuckin’ pinched me,” Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Twice!”

Tommy smiled at the thought of sweet little you pinching Joel. “I’m sure she had a good reason for pinchin’ you. What’d you do to her?”

“I didn’t–it doesn’t matter,” Joel sighed exasperatedly. He had a penchant for the dramatics at times. “You don’t get it. She made me cookies.”

Tommy gasped sarcastically. ���No, not cookies. How horrible, Joel! What should we do with her, throw her in jail? Banish her? Feed her to lions?”

“Tommy,” Joel warned with a low voice. “I am not doin’ patrol with her anymore.”

“Joel,” Tommy warned back, matching his tone. “Quit your bitchin’. She’s a nice girl, and you’re gonna take care of her. She likes you, why, I haven’t got a clue.”

Tommy knew the real reason Joel wanted to stop patrolling with you. He was catching feelings for you. And Joel reacted exactly how Tommy expected. He was frightened of these feelings, terrified to let anyone new into his heart. He already made room for Ellie and her bad puns, he didn’t know if he had room for you and your snickerdoodles as well. He did. You were already there. 

Joel and Maria appeared in front of you then, your eyes brightening when you met Joel’s sour expression. 

“What’d you do now, trouble?” 

Trouble. That was Joel’s nickname for you. When he and Ellie finished your cookies, he returned your container to you on your porch.

“Thanks for the cookies, trouble. They were delicious,” he said, his voice was low and gravelly. “Didn’t need to do all that for me.”

“Trouble? Is that what I am?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah, actually. Pinchin’ me. Talkin’ too much,” Joel did his best to bite back the smile threatening to form on his lips. “And now you’re tryin’ to make me fat, so yeah. You’re a troublemaker.”

Your glassy eyes scanned his face. “What did you do now, trouble?”

Joel bent down to meet your gaze and Maria checked the back of your head for cuts or swelling. 

“Maria says you’re hurt. What’d you do?”

“I tripped and fell,” Joel scoffed. “Figures,” Joel pushed Tommy to the side, crouching in front of you. He took your face into his hands, checking for any other injuries. Your eyes were unfocused and pupils blown wide. He held a finger in front of your eyes, moving it from side to side. You had difficulty following the movement.

“Ouch,” you winced, feeling Maria’s fingers on the tender spot at the back of your head. “I think she smacked her head pretty hard.” she told Tommy. “Very swollen back here.”

“She’s not following my finger. Think it’s probably a concussion, but I don’t know for sure,” he said. “She seems pretty out of it.”

In your fuzzy state, you reached forward and held Joel’s face, mimicking how he did to you. “Handsome,” you murmured. 

Joel felt his face go hot at your compliment. You thumbed his cheeks, savoring the feeling of his prickly hairs on your fingertips. “Uhh,”

“You’re so handsome,” you repeated. Not even drinking a barrel of whiskey could have pried that out of you. You did a number on your poor brain. 

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Joel turned his head to the side and coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from his face as you pouted. “Think she needs to go home.” “That’s right. You make sure she gets home safe,” Tommy said. 

Joel looked up with a furrowed brow. “Me? Why can’t you deal with her?” his words came out more bitter than he intended, like taking you home was the biggest inconvenience of his life.

“Hey,” you whined. How rude!

Joel apologized quickly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that,”

“Because it’s our anniversary, and I told you to keep her safe. Remember? Come on now, Joel. Be a gentleman,” Tommy motioned to Maria to help you up. Slowly, you stood up. On shaky legs, you felt your knees begin to give out. Joel lunged forward to catch your fall. 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. Joel held out his arm for you and you wrapped your hands around his bicep. “Can you walk for me, trouble?” He didn’t actually mind leaving the party early. He wasn’t having too much fun anyway.

“I’ll do anything for you, Joel,” you erupted into a fit of giggles. “You’re so strong!” 

Joel felt his face go warm again as he cleared his throat. Wow, you really did hit your head hard. Joel was used to being flirted with, but this was an entirely different animal. You hit your head so hard it knocked your filter loose. What would you say next?

 His eyes darted to Tommy and Maria, who stood there watching you both, smirking. “Take good care of our girl,” Maria ordered.

Joel begins walking slowly, taking careful steps. You stumble along and can hardly maintain your footing as you make your way out of the bar. You’re still giggling and squeezing his arm. “You are so strong and so handsome!” you squeal.

“Jesus,” he whispered to himself. Was this real you or concussed you speaking?

You walked silently for a bit, gaining a slow and steady rhythm. The world around you blurred and moved quickly. 

“I have a crush on you,” you blurt out with slurred speech.

“That’s nice, trouble,” Joel said, not believing you. You might as well be completely wasted, the way you were making no sense. 

“I mean it,”

“I’m sure you do,” Joel replied sardonically. You tripped again, nearly falling over a second time. Joel caught you and held you tightly. Frustrated, he groaned.“Alright, no more talking. We’re playing the quiet game the rest of the way home,”

“Seriously,” you giggle. “You’re so fucking handsome. You’re the most handsomest man I’ve ever met,” You kept walking and stumbling awkwardly. It was as if you weren’t even walking, just floating along. Your legs didn’t feel real.

“Thank you,” Joel mumbles. He was never good at accepting compliments. But you seem so insistent on informing him of his good looks, he might as well take the compliments in stride.

“You have such pretty brown eyes. Did you know that?”

“I did not,”

“You do. And you have pretty hair,” you paused for a second, catching your breath. “And you have a nice butt,” Joel rolls his eyes, biting back his smile. “I want to have sex with you.” 

“Woah,” he barks at you, unable to contain his shock at your sudden boldness. Where is your fucking filter? Is this even real? Joel will be thinking of this night for weeks to come. “You have brain damage,” he tells you. “Need to stop talking like this,”

“You have brain damage!” You giggle, your feet crossing with Joel’s. Bam. It’s his turn to hit the ground now. You couldn’t walk in a straight line to save your life, even with Joel supporting you. “Oh, shoot. I tripped you.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Joel stands up and without asking permission, he lifts your body over his shoulder. He tries to ignore the fact that your ass is so close to his face. You erupt into laughter, absolutely tickled by his actions. “I know this probably isn’t great for your head, but we need to move. Almost home anyway,” 

“Fine by me, handsome!” you poke his back and his sides. He’s trying to fight off the tingles your touch leaves on his skin. “Are you gonna take me home and have sex with me?”

“Behave,” he warns you. “No, I am not having sex with you. I’m puttin’ you to bed and going to try to forget any of this ever happened. Now quiet, you.”

You let out an angry groan, but oblige. You’re running out of steam, fogginess filling your head even more. You can hardly keep your eyes open. 

Before you know it, Joel is at your doorstep and sets you down. “Where are your keys?” he asks you. 

You slap your thigh, indicating that your keys are in the front right pocket of your jeans. Joel pulls you close and quickly pulls the keys out of your jeans, looking up into the sky to avoid your gaze. He’d need to drink an ocean of alcohol to forget this night. 

Joel fumbles with the keys, trying each one and jiggling it in your door. He figured asking you which key was futile, you were so far gone.

As he’s working diligently to open your door, you can’t help but sigh in admiration. His back muscles tense through his shirt, the fabric stretching and moving back. And god, his ass. So round and plump in his tight jeans. You can’t help yourself. It needs to be pinched. “You really do have a nice butt,” you whisper.

You reach forward and pinch his ass with your thumb and pointer finger. Joel jumps and whips around. “What is wrong with you?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, but his frustrated heart softens when he sees your expression. You’re smirking, eyes big and without a single thought behind them. You have no idea what you’re doing. He knows that. The real you would probably die of embarrassment if she knew of your flirty and bold antics tonight. He can’t help the smile curling up on his lips. You have to mean all of it, right?. All the compliments and confessions. He knows they’re all true. At least, he hopes they are.

Joel grabs your hand and helps you inside. He leads you through your house, checking each door to find your room. He could ask you, but he really doesn’t want you talking. You need to relax.

Once he finds your room, he turns on the light, leads you inside, and helps you sit your bed. Your room reflects your personality perfectly, so bright and colorful. Decorations everywhere. 

Then, he leaves. 

You feel like crying. Your head feels so murky and full, and the pounding has worsened. “Joel?” your voice is thick. 

No answer. He just left without saying goodbye?

Your bottom lip wobbles and you feel tears well up in your eyes as your heart begins to break. How did you even end up here? What even happened tonight? All you knew is that you felt cold and sick and all alone. Your head feels like it’s going to fall right off. 

You sniffle and hear a thump in the distance. And then another. And another. They’re getting louder now. Footsteps. 

Joel returns and your heart blooms. He always kept you safe, even when you drove him fucking nuts. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you. You see that he has a glass of water in his hand. 

He sits on the bed and faces you. You smile gently, admiring all of his features. His scars, his freckles. His sparkly brown eyes. His salt and pepper mustache. “You didn’t leave?”

“‘Course not,” he grips the back of your head softly and tilts it back, then presses the glass to your lips. “Gotta make sure you’re safe, right?” He doesn’t let you respond to his question and tilts the glass into your mouth, forcing you to take a little sip of water. 

“You take such good care of me, Joelie,” His cheeks turn rosy at his new nickname. How sweet it sounds from your lips. He presses the glass to your lips again and makes you drink. 

“You’re so handsome,” Sip. “Did you know I have a crush on you?” sip.

“I did, actually,” Sip. “Now drink. You need to finish the glass.”

Sip. “You have such gorgeous brown eyes. Like coffee beans,” you whisper. Sip.

“Is that right? Coffee beans?” Well, that’s a thoughtful compliment. He doesn’t bother hiding his smile anymore. 

“Mhm,” Sip. “And your butt–”

“What about my butt?” he teases you with a raised eyebrow. You won’t remember any of this anyway, he might as well play along. 

“Like a peach,” “A peach, huh?” He presses the glass to your lips again, this time not pulling it away. You drink the rest of the water. 

“What about a peach, Joelie?” you question. Your eyes are big and lost. It’s as if the last thirty seconds didn’t happen. 

Your forgetfulness would have worried Joel, but he was no stranger to concussions. Had a few of his own. His daughter, Sarah, also had sustained a few concussions from flying soccer balls. She’d be like this too, acting goofy and speaking incoherently. She was always back to normal within a day or two. You would be okay too. 

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” Joel lifts your legs onto the bed and takes off your shoes, plopping each on the ground. He pulls a knitted blanket over your body and gently leans your head back into your pillows.

You stare into his eyes, his gorgeous coffee bean eyes, let out a big yawn. Your eyes are heavy now and your head feels like a weight, like you couldn’t lift it even if you tried. Joel stares back at you, the gears in his head are spinning. He places an experimental hand on your head and combs his fingers over your scalp.

He continues stroking your scalp, soothing you. Your eyes fall shut, and within seconds you’re in a peaceful slumber. 

He doesn’t leave. He stays with you for another minute, making sure you’re really asleep. 

He still doesn’t leave. One more minute passes. 

He’s still sitting there, stroking your head. He can’t bring himself to leave you. He needs to make sure you’re safe, just like Tommy and Maria told him to. 

He’ll stay here all night, gently stroking your head and your back. Telling himself he’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s all. “Goodnight, trouble,” he whispers. 

He’ll deal with his feelings later.

(if you see this, read out my newest Joel story here!! i worked so hard on it and would love for you to check it out)

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat

[imnotyopapi]

synopsis: a dinner date with the friend that you totally don’t have any feelings for going relatively unexpected.

fem reader - het romance

a bit nsfw

we’re nothing, we’re just friends, there’s nothing more than that and anything that were to be more than that is purely imagination, right?

fuck. yeah. i’m right.

he’s just the boy who parades my mind in the hours of the night i’m not thinking all too clearly, or the one i’m off with the daisy’s thinking about when work’s quiet, or the one where -

i don’t want him.

he’s invited me out to dinner and drinks tonight, it’ll be nice to wind down for once, it’s been a full on week with everything i’ve had going on. i’ll wear this gorgeous blue dress i got a while back, it should get some attention from him, i don’t want anything with him nor is anything to happen, i just like the thought of him gazing with those eyes. those fucking eyes. i’m getting distracted.

‘here comes the airplane’ and a piece of sushi between two chopsticks coming rapidly towards my face. fuck, he’s an idiot. but, i mean, he makes me laugh i guess? 3 bottles of wine down and shit, i guess we’re getting some more.

he starts talking, i don’t really know what about? he’s just saying a bunch of words i don’t quite understand, but i smile and nod anyways, it’s still interesting to me, and hell, i kind of want to keep hearing his voice.

i don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system or if he looks both like a serial killer, and kind of fucking hot right now.

if i have to force myself to look somewhere else because i caught myself staring at him one more time, i’m going to lose my shit.

*A-Punk by Vampire Weekend starts playing in the background*

jesus christ! one hand, he lifts my chin up with his finger to make me look him in his eye, and the other, wrapped around my wrist, he’s pulling me up. ‘come dance, don’t be a bummer!’ he slurs. fuck it.

i have no clue how much time has passed, it feels like it’s frozen, and i want it to stay that way. he has no idea how to dance and i fucking love it. he spins me out, i reach my arm out, tilting back, and he spins me back in, and as i come in, his hand comes around my lower back and causes our hips to rub together. ‘bold.’, i say. i can’t really mutter much more than that because if there’s one thing this man can do, it’s catching me off guard. staring at my lips, i think he’s uncovered the anxiousness that was obvious by me biting them. ‘bold..’ he says to himself, and then i see him mouth ‘fuck it.’

he pins me up against a wall, one hand over my head, ‘you think that was bold?’, he leans in, with a dead expression in his eyes, i stutter, but i can’t get any words out. how does he reply to that? a smirk, a fucking smirk. this fucking man-

my hand pushes further against the wall mimicking the way he pushes his lips against mine, he pulls away by a matter of millimeters, his bottom lip dragging against mine, just for him to go in again.

i haven’t fucking ever been in this situation before, what the fuck do i do?

i slip a bit of tongue, and the tip of his tongue meets the end of mine, he pulls away to bite my lip, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth for a split moment, before we start making out again.

after what feels like a whole 10 minutes have passed, he finally leans back, i feel an exhale as he comes away, and both of us are completely out of breath.

i don’t want him.

oh, fuck it.

i pull him in by his belt and mimic every last fucking movement he did to me, the lipbite, the brush, every last fucking thing.

once i’ve backed off after another, what, probably 10 minutes he looks at me again with those dead fucking eyes.

he leans in towards my ear, and after a light nibble he whispers ‘that’s it?’ and he stands back for a moment.

‘give me a chance, anything you could want, or anything you fucking crave, it’s yours.’ he exclaims, loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear, but i don’t think he cares?

he looks at you with that fucking smirk again.

i don’t want him, there’s nothing between us.

yeah, there’s nothing. totally. we’re just friends.

i fucking hate this guy. let’s go.