#get fucked meteorologists

[yeenkingart]

based on real experience (am geologist), except I only forgot my mapboard dont judge me

Irks me that they just ... rawdog the outdoors, like, my guy you must be miserable in that science coat and trenchcoat. yall good??

[poetandwolf]

I often see so much "cringe" talk about people looking back at themselves as a teen. You know, that kid needs more compassion. You gotta give those younger versions of yourself compassion and love and patience. because they need it. Love yourself. All the parts.

I wanna go back in time and hug that teenager kid super tight. Stumble over that hill in the woods where I used to hide. Find that kid and just squeeze the shit out of them. Let them sob. If they think I'm whoever-spirit thats fine.

" Look, I know it isn't okay right now and shitty things will happen again. But, I'm so fucking proud of you. You will be okay, because you're that much of a bad ass. You don't have much of support team and those assholes betrayed you? Fuck Them. No, listen. Fuck them. You don't need their approval. You aren't weak like that monster who terrorizes you. You don't need them. You think you're all alone and you aren't. They're manipulating you. Aubrey is with you, always. In your head. That's his Job. Don't let them weaponize him. YOU are doing this all on your own, and that makes you such a kick ass warrior. You are so fucking strong. Stronger than you will ever know. People suck and its a shit deck you were dealt with right now. But things do get better. You'll find your pack. Your people. You'll have your own place and dogs and Aubrey loves you and don't believe a single fucking word what anyone else says. He Loves You. And I- future you- love you as well. So keep giving 'em Hell."

[thepandalion]

nothing to fuck you up faster than scrolling a character situation tag (as in "X character is sad in this one" way) and seeing an author you recognize who apparently wrote a fic for it that you don't remember reading

[desperatecheesecubes]

Not to self: you should probably stop saying 'yeah yeah let me swallow first' before answering the phone at work. But also people should stop calling when I'm eating my granola bar c'mon now.

[anacrea]

american news reporters dt here reporting on the sub.... I want to know how many people are gawking at them rn

[hotshotsxyz]

Hiii Abbie 💕💕💕

Buddie + “ i didn’t know where else to go. “

-❤️🪐

(buddie) (1.5k) eddie's pov before and after the events of this fic written for the same prompt! (technically i only used the line in the first one but oh well lol)

cw: vague description of a very bad car accident

Eddie doesn’t make a habit of watching the news. It’s depressing as hell, he runs the risk of seeing Taylor fucking Kelly on his TV, and if something he actually needs to know about is going on, he’ll hear it from Buck some time in the next few days anyway. All that to say, Eddie isn’t watching the news; he’s just flipping through the channels.

“Pick me, choose me!” Meredith Grey is saying in a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy.

click

“—low pressure system moving in from the north,” a meteorologist says on The Weather Channel.

click

“Alright boys, saddle up!” says the captain on that crappy network firefighter show.

click

“—multi-car pile-up on the 405. It’s unclear if—”

click

“—raw dough. It’s such a shame—”

click

“—urging drivers to avoid—”

click

“—looking for a loft in the city, while Jennifer would prefer—”

click

“—unclear if there are any survivors of the initial crash.”

Eddie puts the remote down. He doesn’t make a habit of watching the news, but every once in a while, something catches his attention.

The image on the screen is an aerial shot of a massive, burning multicar pile-up. The 136 is on scene, but they can’t have been there long if the size and ferocity of the fire is anything to go by.

“—compounded by the explosion of a tanker carrying gasoline—”

Eddie winces. They’re going to be there all night if they don’t get more companies on scene. He reaches for the remote at the same time as the shot switches from the aerial to a reporter on the ground. She’s not what stops him from changing the channel. The crushed and smoldering Jeep behind her is.

And it’s—there’ve got to be a thousand silver Jeeps in Los Angeles. And Buck wouldn’t—why would he even be on the 405? So obviously it’s not Buck’s Jeep, even if it is the same color and probably year. It’s just a shitty little coincidence.

An unpleasant pressure begins to build in Eddie’s chest.

He’ll just—it’s not late. He doesn’t even have to tell Buck why he’s calling. Eddie scoops his phone off the table, navigates to his favorites, and taps Buck’s name. The call goes straight to voicemail. Eddie frowns and taps his name again. He gets the same result.

“—and rescue is under way, but I’m being told that until the fire is contained—”

Buck’s phone is dead, probably. Or—or he took Jee to that movie he was talking about so he had to turn it off. That’s—he’s sure that’s it. Eddie rubs at his sternum and stands. He’s just… feeling a little paranoid.

He calls Maddie. She answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Maddie,” Eddie says, brushing a hand across the back of his neck. “It’s Eddie.”

“Uh, hey,” Maddie says. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie winces. “Yeah, I think so. I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Buck tonight.” He’s being ridiculous. Buck’s fine.

“No,” Maddie says, obvious confusion in her tone. “Why, did something happen?”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “I just haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

Maddie hums thoughtfully. “He might’ve had a dental appointment earlier,” she says.

“Okay, thanks,” Eddie says. “I’ll probably just swing by the loft then.” There’s a pit in his stomach. Buck’s fine. At worst he has a cavity or two. He’s fine.

“Oh!” Maddie exclaims. “Hold on, let me check his location; I’ll save you the trip if he’s not there.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Duh. He has Buck’s location too. He didn’t even need to bother Maddie with—

“Nope, sorry,” she says.

Eddie takes a breath. He’s fine. Buck’s fine. “Maddie,” he says slowly, “where is he?”

“Um, as of twenty-eight minutes ago, looks like he was driving through Culver City, on the 405, I think,” she replies. “Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Oh god,” he breathes. He can feel the blood draining from his face.

“Eddie?” Maddie asks. She’s starting to sound worried.

On the TV, the camera zooms in and pans across the wreckage. It reaches the Jeep. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a bigfoot air freshener that looks exactly like the one Chimney gave him as a joke a few months ago. It’s—

It’s Buck’s Jeep. He’s fine. He has to be fine.

“—understand that search and rescue efforts are underway, but as of right now, no additional survivors have been located.”

He could be dead.

Eddie’s knees give out beneath him. He lands heavily on the couch.

“Don’t turn on the news,” he says.

“What? Why?” Maddie asks.

“There was an accident on the 405,” Eddie replies mechanically. “I think it might be bad.”

On the other end of the line, Maddie sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie—”

“It’s his Jeep,” Eddie says.

He’s okay.

He has to be okay.

He’s not okay.

He could be dead.

“I have to call Bobby,” Eddie realizes aloud. “He can—he can get in touch with IC.”

“Okay,” Maddie says shakily. “Okay. I’m going to call Sue. Maybe she—” Maddie cuts herself off with something like a gasp.

“I’ll call you when—” if “—I get ahold of him,” Eddie promises.

“Same,” Maddie replies.

They end the call without a goodbye.

Eddie tries Buck again, just in case. He doesn’t answer.

He can’t—

Buck has to be okay.

He has to.

Eddie takes a steeling breath and calls Bobby.

…

Eddie’s crawling out of his skin. The captain of the 136 has him on hold, and that’s already more than he’s obligated to do but—

But it’s Buck and Eddie’s fucking terrified.

The longer he waits, the farther afield his imagination goes.

He’s got a broken leg and a concussion; they’re taking him to Cedars-Sinai.

He wasn’t conscious when we found him. They’re airlifting him to UCLA.

I’m sorry, Diaz. He was DOA.

Eddie paces back and forth and tugs at his hair. He needs to do something, anything! He needs—

Flashing blue and red lights filter in through the window.

He’s dead.

He’s dead, and this time Eddie wasn’t there to coax him back.

He’s dead and they sent an officer to tell him in person and Eddie’s never going to catch his breath because Buck’s the one that taught him how to breathe after—

There’s a knock at the door.

He can’t do this. Eddie can’t do this. He can’t—

How is he supposed to go to work without Buck? How’s he supposed to tell Christopher? How is he ever going to get up in the morning again? How is his heart supposed to keep beating in a world devoid of Evan Buckley?

He opens the door.

His phone clatters to the floor.

“Buck,” he sobs.

…

Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s bruised chest as he sleeps.

He’s alive.

He’s okay.

He’s got tangible proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie reaches out and brushes an errant curl from his forehead.

Buck is alive and breathing and sleeping in Eddie’s bed and he’s okay. But Eddie—

He rests his palm on Buck’s sternum and counts each inhale.

Buck’s here. He’s fine. Maddie knows and Bobby knows and Eddie’s got the living proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie shuffles a little closer until the heat of Buck’s skin is overwhelming against his own. He hooks his chin onto Buck’s shoulder and tries to memorize the strange shadows and highlights that are painted on his skin by the light of the moon.

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

He could’ve—

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shudders.

Buck’s alive and he’s right here, but Eddie can’t quite escape the moment when he was certain neither of those things would ever be true again. His breathing goes a little ragged, and his hands curl into fists.

“Eds?” Buck mumbles, eyes still closed.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath. “M’sorry, go back to sleep,” he whispers. The words are sticky and thick in his throat.

A small furrow etches itself between Buck’s brows. Eddie smooths it with his thumb. He drags his gaze back down Buck’s face and finds his eyes open and fixed on him.

“Eddie,” he whispers in the dark.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he lies.

Buck frowns. He watches Eddie for a long moment, then something in his expression shifts. “Switch sides with me,” he says.

Eddie blinks. “What?”

Buck huffs a soft breath. “Just—trust me?”

And oh, Eddie does. He carefully climbs over Buck, who shuffles to his right to give Eddie more room.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Almost,” Buck replies.

He pulls Eddie flush against him and guides his head down onto his chest. Beneath him, Buck’s heart beats strong and steady.

“Oh,” Eddie exhales.

Buck runs his hand through Eddie’s hair and down his back.

Eddie closes his eyes and finally, he sleeps.

[lqveharrington]

Bus Stop | R.L.

summary: both you and remus miss the bus during a rain shower.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, strangers being cute, cursing

a/n: i seriously need to finish my coriolanus series help 😭

As a meteorologist for the local news media, you knew what the weather was going to look like everyday. In fact, plenty of people tuned in to hear the forecast just from you. It was something you enjoyed doing, you liked helping people out for the smallest things. You could predict whether or not the sun would be shining to the point where ice cream would melt in an instant, or if it would snow so hard that the roads were to icy to drive in.

It felt nice to be helpful and appreciated in a community you’ve learned to love.

But every once in a while, the computer system the station owned would make small mistakes. There would be times where it predicted hard rain, but instead ended in light rain with little to no clouds. Of course, it was something so rare that you always disregarded it and moved on.

Except for today.

You were standing underneath the thinnest awning as rain pellets fell harshly from the thundering sky. You missed the bus for the first time in years. It was stupidly coincidental that the day the computer system decided not to work was the day you missed the bus. It had shown that only light rain would be coming to your area.

Wrong.

So now you were trapped in a small space until a bus appeared or the rain let up, which was unlikely.

The wind blew harshly on your skin and made the rain splash everywhere. You were getting drenched by the minute and all you could do was wait. Your Mary Jane’s were completely ruined and your tote bag completely soaked, which incased your book and notepad. It was all destroyed.

A frown made its way to your face. You couldn’t even tell if tears were streaming down your face or if it was the rain as you felt your chest constrict. But even the universe had its limits and thought it was cruel to have you all alone in the storm. So it sent you one companion who happened to miss the bus as well.

A man ran over to where you were, his eyes wide in frustration and annoyance. You watched him run underneath the awning with his jacket over his head, which did little as he was completely soaked from head to toe.

He gave you a slight nod and looked out toward the obstructed street view, “How long have you been waiting?”

You blink in confusion before realizing he was talking to you. Heat covered your neck when he gave you an amused grin as he ran his fingers through his wet hair in attempts to squeeze the water out.

“Oh! Uhm, maybe a couple of minutes? Only two buses come down this way.” You look down to your shoes, the puddle underneath rising toward your ankle, although you feet were already drenched.

He sighed and leaned his head back on the brick wall behind, rubbing his palms in his eyes. “Fuck, okay.”

After a few seconds, an awkward silence took over despite the heavy rainfall. It wasn't like you intended for it to get awkward, but standing in a tight space with a man you never met really set off tension.

Yours eyes flickered from the rain puddles to the man beside you. Clearing your throat, you began to speak, but at the same time, the man spoke as well.

“How—“

“What—“ Your eyes widen and the previous heat creeped up to your cheeks. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, that’s quite alright. I was just trying to make small talk.” The man shrugged and sent you a small smile.

You grinned back and fiddled with the strap of your tote back. “So was I.”

Despite the attempt, another silence took over. This time, it was less awkward. The rain continued to pelt down and the sun began it's slow descent down when you decided to strike a conversation again.

“What made you late?”

He looked over toward you, his mind zoned out from the pattering of the rain. “Mm?”

“To the stop, I mean." You smile sheepishly and waved your hand around. "I got here just as the bus left, but you were minutes behind.”

“Ah,” He nodded and pushed his hair back again. “My car is at the mechanics and I wasn’t sure when the coaches come around. I guess I was a little off.”

“Just a little.” You pinch your finger together as a small laugh falls from your lips.

A comfortable silence took over this time. You had yet to know the man’s name, but you knew that he was alright to be around for the time being. Who knows if there were weird people out in the rain coming to get you.

The rain only grew harder, causing you and the mystery man to push closer in hopes of staying out of the harsh weather and not freeze to death. Well, more so than already.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.” The man spoke and glanced at you to see an amused glint in your eyes.

“Yeah?”

He squinted his eyes before snapping his fingers in recognition. “You’re the meteorologist on channel 8.”

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips, smiling like you would on television. “The one and only.”

“I didn’t think I would meet a celebrity waiting for the coach.” The man chuckled and ended with a content smile, shaking his head at the fact he did meet someone everyone loved.

“Where do you work?” You ask out of the blue, catching him off guard. “It’s only right, you know my place of work.”

He raised his brows like it was the most obvious thing. “You’re on the tele.”

“Same difference.”

You both stared at each other as if you were in a silent competition before you looked away, clearing your throat. Sensing your fraction of discomfort, the man answered your question.

“I work down at the bookstore on King’s street. It’s beside the café.” He gestured toward where he came from and smiled when your eyes lit up.

“Oh! My friend Lily works down there. I love that place, they have everything I ever need in life.” You grin at the mention of your favorite store downtown, but purse your lips when you remember what exactly you had in your tote. “But, one of the books is kind of destroyed in my bag.”

"You destroyed public property?"

"Not on purpose!" You defend yourself and put a hand up, the small smile on your lips showing your true emotion. "That's not funny."

"It was."

You roll your eyes in an amused manner and settle into a short silence. Time felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and you weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Picking at your nails, you ask him another question he hopefully knew the answer to.

"Since you work with Lily, do you know a guy named Remus? She said he worked there with her, she wants me to meet him."

He raised a singular brow at you and tucked his hands under his arms as the wind blew harder. "I may or may not know. Why?"

"She said we would hit it off right away." You shrug and shiver, causing your body to instinctively pull closer to the man beside you for warmth. "And every time she wants me to go over to meet him, I'm really busy with work."

He hummed and looked down at you, meeting your eyes with pure joy and mischief. "I think that you would hit it off right away."

"You think so?" You murmur, glancing down at his lips for a split second before looking back up to his eyes in shock at your own action.

"Oh, definitely. You'll have the time of your life with his horrid humor." He chuckled as you huffed a breath out, the heat from your mouth shown in front of you.

"As bad as you laughing at me for accidently destroying a library book?"

"Precisely." The man nodded in agreement, pulling you further back into the stop as a car drove by without slowing down. "How long have you been a meteorologist?"

"Oh gosh," You bite your lip in thought and go back to your first time actually working as a meteorologist. "Maybe two years officially? I studied a lot in college for it and was given an internship with NASA back in the states for my last year."

His lips turned-down into a smile, not that surprised by the fact with how much you loved your job. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you." You tilt your head down and look down at the ever growing puddle, sighing at the sight. "Although, sometimes I wish I had chosen a job back in the states rather than come back here."

"Why is that?"

"The weather here is mostly the same all year round. There's nothing too interesting about it." You gesture toward the rain.

As you pointed out the harsh rain you would always report on, the bus lights finally appeared through the thick fog. You shut your eyes in thanks before holding tightly onto your tote. But before the bus got to your stop, you decided to speak once more. Maybe, just maybe, the mystery man was alright.

"I never got your name."

He turned his head to you and shrugged, his brown hair splashing you with water. "Technically, I didn't get yours either."

"Doesn't count, I'm on television." You quip as the bus comes to a stop, but the look on the man’s face caught you off guard. "What is it? Why are you smiling weirdly?"

"I'm Remus Lupin." He struck his hand out and kissed your knuckles. "And it was a pleasure to hit it off with you."

"You're joking." You gape at the mysterious man who you could now identify as the same Remus Lily was talking about. "You're incorrigible."

"And your coach is going to leave you behind soon." He tilted his head toward the flashing headlights of the bus.

You purse your lips and quickly get your body on the bus. You paid your bill and turned around to see him still standing at the stop. Furrowing your brows, you call out to him only to be interrupted.

“Will I expect to see you in the bookstore soon?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to enhance his voice over the heavy rainfall.

A small smile graced your lips as you responded. “Maybe!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Heat Waves

August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation

It's fucking hot. 

The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.

There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.

Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 

The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.

Just. Be this way.

At least no one will see him here in the dark.

Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 

Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 

The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.

He's sure of it.

Temporary his ass.

But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.

Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.

Assholes.

It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.

Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.

The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.

It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.

His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.

But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.

Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.

But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.

He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."

And that's when he hears it, a whine.

Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.

He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.

But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.

"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.

"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."

Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.

"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.

Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."

"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"

Steve nods.

Fucking hell.

Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.

Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.

His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 

Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 

Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,

And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.

Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.

Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 

"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.

"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"

Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.

Oh, fuck.

He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"

And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.

Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.

Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.

This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.

Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.

Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.

Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.

It's all so fucking good.

Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.

And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.

They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[blacksunemiku]

thinking about an arcane news station au…. it’s a small town news station so everyone kinda has to do a bit of everything. (also this is just me infodumping because i work at a news station LOL)

caitlyn as the new meteorologist who’s realizing her ivy league degree doesn’t warrant her a job at a big city news station. she really hates it here and vi is the sports anchor and they don’t like each other initially LMFAO. cait only sees this as a career opportunity to get the hell out of here and vi actually had an offer to do sports at a huge news station but declined it because this place is her hometown and she loves doing stuff for her local sports teams (fyi: they all suck, save for her old high school women’s basketball team). vi likes to get in caitlyn’s nerves but cait starts to like sports because of her. (“oh that was clearly a flag, what the hell are those refs thinking??” “caitlyn what the fuck did you just say”)

mel and jayce are the hot news anchors like that’s a given obviously

viktor as the show director that hates everyone and is always stressed but he holds it down alongside sevika the producer/sound engineer/does literally everything who also hates everyone (she’s kinda like creed from the office and just tells random ass stories about how she learned how to use a soundboard in juvie)

jinx is one of the studio engineers and she’s great at her job but you know… it’s jinx. she gotta be weird as shit. (“the keurig is broken aga–” “already working on it” “where the fuck did you come from” “the vents. also this thing need to be replaced” “the what”)

ekko is one of the journalists and he loves reporting on stupid shit around town. usually vander disproves of stuff like that but the locals LOVE his little stories. it’s actually front because he’s investing a huge corruption case around town and why does it look like his HR manager might be involved ???

vander is the department head and silco is the lone HR person i think. ambessa is the studio head but she’s like ava coleman from abbott elementary and does everything but work and flirts with the interns LMFAO but she’s like sevika and knows how to do everything but just chooses not to because she says she worked too hard to get to where she is now (half of the HR complaints are just from her)

[mrghostrat]

Not sure if someone asked this but what are your favorite fics? You’re probably my favorite fanfic author at the moment and I need some recommendations!

fuck yes rec time!! it's been a while since i recced my favourites. i'll try to avoid reccing the same classic fandom fics that everyone else does, so hopefully you'll find something new!

but as always, we start with First Class (Hons) by heloluv because i can't believe this fic doesn't have 100k+

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 human au, horticulturalist!crowley wooing priest!aziraphale to try and get a rose cutting from the church garden

because thinking makes it so by NaroMoreau, summerofspock human au, "straight" and divorced aziraphale is a new employee in crowley's office where crowley is an IT guy. they start as friends with benefits

Soho by Lurlur human au, aziraphale runs a bookshop and crowley is a rockstar that wanders on in

Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous actor who stars in a music video for crowley and anathema's rock band

The Bizarre Demons of AZ Fell & Co Antique Booksellers by WorseOmens good omens x buzzfeed unsolved crossover that makes me laugh every time

Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo human au, crowley watches aziraphale eat ice cream on a bench every day at lunch, and devises a plan to go sit with him one day. another laugh out loud

First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous author who bumps into childhood friend/crush crowley at a book signing.

(sobs omg im sorry for so much feraltuxedo i can't get enough of their fics)

Celestial Bodies by Justkeeptrekkin canon compliant, getting together, beautiful beautiful prose of nonhuman intimacy

To reveal my heart in ink by chaoticlivi canon compliant, aziraphale starts handwriting crowley letters just because he misses the format. it becomes easier to spill certain feelings on the page and their letters get very saucy n intimate.

Talk about the weather by nightbloomingcereus human au, aziraphale is a weather man meteorologist and crowley is a storm chaser.

If A Man... by Tartan_Temptation human au, crowley has some Alone Time on his balcony in the middle of the night, but someone sees him. so what if i read this every night for a week straight????? don't look at me.

it's probably not worth reccing since it's been removed from ao3 and only accessible after a five round brawl with the waybackmachine in an arby's parking lot, but i have to mention litany in which certain things are crossed out by Ayes/sayesayes changed my brain chemistry and GOD i wish it was still up...........

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

↳001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy married his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. ‘King Steve’ is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke okay i think i tagged everybody

10/23/2024 -- @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland just updating the tag list :))

[beefrobeefcal]

Thank you for the tags @magpiepills @strang3lov3 @clawdee @evolnoomym @tinytinymenace & @the-mandawhor1an in their own WIP posts!

While i have WIPs, I thought this light dusting of an idea would be fun. I had it explode out of me during a brainstorming with some fine friendos and... well... you'll see.

Whether I ever write it or not is up for debate.

Enjoy!

Beefro👌🥩💜

Full Pressue Tag List: @bitchesuntitled @yopossum @timelordfreya @whocaresstillthelouvre

Tagging with the force of a thousand fiery suns: @strang3lov3

So there's this guy. We'll call him Frankie. He's a manager at a Best Buy in the American Midwest. One of his subordinates is a fly ass thing named Reader. Anyways, Frankie is enamoured. Enraptured. He looks at her the way a meteorologist looks at a tornado. Afraid of its power but cock pumped to 9000. One night, during inventory season, they're alone in old bb - save for the janitor Syd - and he's trying to not come off as a creep as he follows her through the store, called with her siren-esque Britney Spears Curious perfume. Inventory lasts three nights. By the third night, he's brought her burger king, a bucket of chupachups, one of those rings from the dentist when you don't bite the hygienist and sent her too many memes about cats on Instagram. Reader is sus. Frankie is a dog man. Why cats? Also, burger king? Who does she think she is? A burger king fan? No. Quiznos or bust for her. Well whatever. Frankie is desperate. Finally, after being caught palming his goods though his corporate issued khakis, and reader gets the point. They fuck freak nasty on the floor while Syd watches the cctv in the security room. Over the radio, Arms Wide Open by Creed plays.

[thr0wnawayy]

Where Are They At?: A look into a Post Liberation World

Hey y'all. This post serves as an overview/in sight into MHA's world post Liberation War.

Unlike my previous posts these will be written from an "outside" perspective. Another thing I should note is in regards to the movies (can also apply to the LN):

Taken from my notes: (Movies aren't canon but the characters and settings are [ WHM being the exception due to fitting in the vanilla TL) -Thr0wnawayy

The Shimano family had their island home ruined in the wake of the PLW.

After the heroes used the villains as cannon fodder and warped them across Japan(and co), the Shimano's found themselves at a loss.

1. Villains had quite literally fallen out of the sky

2. The battles they fought were inescapable due to having no safe way off the island.

Most of the island had been rendered inhospitable in the aftermath.

With nowhere to go* the entire community fell apart. The Shimano's fled to America to start a new life, meeting the Tsuyoshi's along the way.

Their story is one of many, those who could afford it left the country for good. Becoming known as the "Seekers" (In Australia they're called Roosties, in Otheon they are called Sköll)

_______________________________________

Without getting too much into spoilers, here's some world news:

Nedzu's pressuring only lead to greater resentment from aiding countries.

The amount of favours Nedzu had to cash in was astronomical and this led to the country sinking further into debt due to acquiring interest, with Japan now owing the various countries debt money.

Stars and Stripes Death will be seen as the equivalent of a second pearl habour by the US (and yes, history has been preserved well enough for MHA's America to remember that.)

Further contributing to America's hate of Japan was the fact that when the (Endeavor-Dabi) drought hit the west coast, the other nations had no resources left to extend. Not for the US and not for themselves, with the effort to rebuild Japan having drained their finances (even with the cut corners).

Thus souring the HPSC's/Japan's relations further with the world stage, worse still, most of the buildings were temporary (being meant to be redone or renovated), not structurally stable and meant to be lived in for 2-5 years at best.

U.A was especially a victim of this, with repairs having been rushed in time for graduation (which further tightened UA's spending). Over-all It was a rush job and corners had to be cut to meet deadlines

Uraraka Construction and many other companies had their reputations rise and fall seemingly over night (though this wont happen until 1A reaches their 3rd year).

In the aftermath of the war, single parent families and orphan rates have skyrocketed.

Midoriya's weather changing punch fucked up the meteorologist's data, no one could have seen the drought coming.

Not all the footage recorded by the businesses course was used (approved) for the broadcast

*if you thought the rebuilding efforts were bad in the mainland, then it was practically nonexistent for the islanders, being the most neglected group besides quirkless individuals.

It should be noted that Monoma was the one to create the portals using Kurogiri's quirk, however he lacked both the experience and fine control necessary for accuracy. Hence why some of the portals were in the sky, this also contributed to the random placement of the portals.

Although only Gigantomachia and The Sludge Villain were put under Shinso's mindcontrol, the general belief of the public is that all the villains were influenced rather than disoriented and panicked.

[onethirdofimpossible]

Oh man I'll probably want to make a long ass post tomorrow, but as an environmental science educator who just started my job search in the community college realm, the federal grant pause is catastrophically bad and part of a very broad anti-intellectual movement from MAGA America. It puts a huge wrench in my career and being able to get a job, because most universities and colleges pay the salaries of professors through such grants. Anything the government deems "woke" is at risk of being cut. Not only does that include climate change research, but we've also seen Republicans pushing to defend the National Weather Service, meteorologists being fired... Even education/tools/sources of evidence and data that could enable people to conclude that climate change is an actual occurrence are all being actively taken away, and that's a huge fucking problem.

As an educator, teaching what climate change is and what its impacts have been so far is not enough; I want to provide the thinking skills and physics background that ensure my students are able to look at the evidence for themselves and be able to understand why the scientific community has come to this consensus. But even that is under threat. I was teaching my lab today about station models, a standardized method of communicating local weather in real time, and I couldn't stop thinking about how down to the local level I've already seen the weather stations that collect + report this data struggle. A meteorologist is visiting campus tomorrow and I have so many questions.

Make no mistake, I'll adapt and I will be teaching environmental science one way or another. We need science educators now more than ever to prepare people with the skills to be able to analyze data, draw conclusions, communicate results, etc. It'll be an exhausting ride, but I'm gonna fight for hope.

In the meantime, let me know if you have environmental science questions, I guess. That's always an open offer.

[ohwolfling]

Unless you are sending a private plane and offering your home, stop telling Floridians or anyone else to pay attention or to evacuate etc. The vocal minority who talk about these hurricane and storms like they're nothing do it as a coping mechanism because the south has so little fucking control over how we're treated and what happens to us. Why don't you use that energy to speak to the motherfuckers still planning on going to their Tampa trip or actively whining inside fucking Disney World?

And where would Florida evacuate to? Popular evacuation spots for people who CAN EVEN BEGIN to afford it would be the Carolinas and Georgia. Guess what? Those are under fucking water where they aren't coast line because climate change and overdevelopment are so goddamn bad that a hurricane climbed the fucking Appalachian mountains. Currently there are trucks driving around projecting how dangerous this storm will be from speakers because so many people are still without power or cell signal from Helene. They can't even turn on the news to hear about this. What do you think this is?

The state government revels in death and suffering in these places often times (Gov Ron DeSantis is refusing to speak to the Biden administration about hurricane relief for what Helene did to Florida in fact) and offerings no recourse. The alleged "shuttles" and evacuation routes are just bus stops. They're just fucking bus stops on the already over crowded road.

It is SO CLEAR that your feigned concern is just another flavor of insisting that southern people and poor people (AND GOD ARE THERE A LOT WHO FIT BOTH) are big, dumb idiots who don't heed the warning before an act of God. Your chatter is USELESS. It's less than useless. It's downright harmful because it adds to the idea that we're all a bunch of goofs and we deserve ruin.

Milton is changing FAST and freaking out meteorologists and storm chasers because none of our weather models or measures of this kinda thing are designed for a Gulf of Mexico that is changing temperature at this rate. This is climate change. This is what is being DONE TO US by a capitalistic death cult that has slammed the door and turned the key and trapped all or us inside with it. Nation wide, yes, but also globally. Of course the south is feeling it first. We feel EVERYTHING first and every time y'all act like it's a moral failing on our part and clap when we suffer and die and then claim our mistrust of the government and of outsiders on both the left and the right must be because we're paranoid, inherently evil goons.

At a certain point, you have to accept that some people would rather die at home. Some people see how fucked they are and they'd rather die at home. Being away from Appalachia during all this is killing me. I'm breaking into pieces. Because I'm not just FROM there, I'm OF there, and I hate that I ever had to leave to try and prove I mattered and to pretend that the extreme poverty I was born into was something I could escape through college or relocating or a job, to try and swallow the lie that my family was poor and southern and cursed because they just didn't play the game.

Really and truly FUCK Y'ALL who say NOTHING and turn away from tragedy in the south- the lack of give a fuck about Helene right now on the "you HAVE to renlog this" self righteousness pestering website is DISGUSTING and shows so clearly what you are- except when you can chastise and give a fucking lecture and feel smart. FUCK YOU. This death cult we're in WILL get you too.