#hi watched the new trailer. love to see a man throw another man into a wall with not even a hint of eroticism

[urhoneycombwitch]

love light gleams

rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader Eddie and the band are stranded for Christmas. at least the pay phone's working.

foreword: haven’t heard from these cuties in awhile!! here’s my other fic of these two but not necessary to read beforehand. just a bit of schmoopy holiday fluff for the soul <3 (in the timeline, this is set in the early days of Corroded’s first tour where they’re just on the cusp of public notability/recognition)

cw: holiday fluff, alcohol/drinking, R is referred to with occasional she/her pronouns, R is related to Joyce (no specificity), Eddie gets a public boner™️, implied smut

wc: 3.1k

___

Goddamn Murphy and his law.

First, the tour bus breaks down in the middle of Where the Fuck Are We, Idaho, and Jeff maybe could’ve fixed it in time to get them over the next leg of the trip- if it weren’t for the giant snowstorm blizzard from hell. 

After much pulling of hair and frozen appendages, the band decided to call it quits and splurge some of the quickly dwindling Road Fund on a motel for the night; the idea of ones own room and a hot shower swiftly smothered by the front desk clerk. 

“Four rooms, the night before Christmas?” The man looked about as haggard as the rest of them, but Eddie couldn’t find it in his heart to feel too bad with the way the guy was chuckling mirthfully. “Got a better chance of seein’ Santa himself.”

Eddie grit his teeth and paid for a single. Without cussing. A feat that should land him on the Nice List, forever. 

When the group finally trudged into the lone spare room (spreading out as much as could be allowed, they were all sick of each other, at this point), Eddie used the phone to get ahold of their tour manager, who managed to top the evening off with the worst news of all.

“Christmas show at Garter’s is cancelled,” Eddie had announced to his sullen men after slamming the phone back on its hook. “Looks like we’re sitting ducks for the holidays.”

After dejected calls home and a few last desperate, futile attempts to charm airline employees over the phone, Corroded Coffin trooped through the bitter weather to hole up at the only bar in town.

Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob all settled into a booth with minimal complaints, gloved hands wrapping eagerly around mugs of hot toddies while Eddie simmered and stewed at the end of the bench, unable to sit still.

He should probably make the best of a bad situation, buy his boys another round and muster up some goodwill, but Eddie isn’t ready for an attitude adjustment quite yet.

He’s thinking of you, nearly two thousand miles east, cozy at home in Hawkins. In Eddie’s mind’s eye, you’re curled up by the fireplace in soft flannel-print pajamas (the pair he let you ‘borrow’ years ago), munching on sugar cookies and looking deliciously peaceful. 

Jeff throws him a bone, slides two quarters down the table to Eddie, saying- “Go call her, man. You’ll be annoying as hell until you do.”

Emerson chimes in, pointing towards the front doors a touch too gleefully- “Only pay phone’s out front.”

Eddie scoffs- figures, they’d try to get rid of him- but he can’t blame them too much, seeing as Jeff is right. 

Damn Murphy and his damn law. Eddie scoops up the change with an exaggerated flourish and stomps out, icy wind swallowing all the noise of the bar the second his boots hit snow. 

He follows the gravel trail that leads to the glass phone booth, the whole structure at a poorly-crafted slant that makes the door stick; Eddie shoves his shoulder against the iced-over seam four fucking times before it cracks and gives. 

Shoulder smarting, Eddie closes himself inside the booth, and with movements made clumsy by mittens and cold, loads the quarters and dials home. 

The trailer landline’s dial tone drones. With each ring, Eddie thunks a mittened hand against his forehead and watches the frost of his breath suspended in the air. 

You don’t answer. 

His shoulder stings, and he rubs at it, petulant, quarters clinking back down into the tray. He reloads them, grizzling all the while, and punches in Jonathan’s number, banking on the fact that you might be at your aunt’s place for Christmas Eve festivities.

No luck there, either. Eddie’s close to using the returned quarters as eye covers and laying down in the snow, letting hypothermia guide him to the afterlife- when suddenly, inexplicably, the phone on the hook rings.

The first time, Eddie thinks he imagined it. The second time, it jolts him into action, hardly daring to hope as he snatches the receiver up and speaks, breathless- “Hello?”

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t get caught up in the logistics, the why and hows just yet. Upon hearing your voice on the line, full and sweet after so many droning tones, Eddie slumps with relief against the booth’s angled window pane. 

���Sweetheart. Hi. Holy shit, are you a sound for sore ears. God, I fucking miss you.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose between clothed fingers, biting back tears of joy when your giggles like tinkling bells surround him.

“I miss you too. So much. Gareth called earlier to give me this number, said you’ve been a pest and might benefit from hearing my voice,” you tease, sounding like you’ve cupped the phone around your mouth to hide your words from others.

Eddie is basking in it, the simple act of you speaking doing wonders for his whole system, like a mug of cocoa for the soul. He makes a mental note to do something nice for Gareth, at a later date when he’s not sick of looking at his bandmates. 

“Bet he did,” Eddie concedes. “It’s been a total nightmare shitshow from hell over here, babe. I’m barely holding it together without my handler.”

“Poor thing.” You’re sympathetic but there’s still a playful edge to your voice when you ask, “Don’t you know it’s almost Christmas? Being a Scrooge only gets you so far.”

“Noted.” Normally, Eddie would be better at matching your energy, but he feels like all the wit got sucked out of him somewhere between here and the bar. “Keep talkin’. The tips of my ears aren’t quite warm yet. Wearing anything slutty on this holiday eve?”

You laugh, again (a balm, a blanket, et al cheesy romantic idioms), and Eddie can practically hear the eye roll this time- “Oh yeah, dressed real sexy for Aunt Joyce’s family supper. Light wash Levi’s and everything.”

Eddie makes various dramatic horny noises and you snicker. In the following lull, the noise from the party in Hawkins plays muted in the background. Glasses clinking, indistinct chatter from other people he loves, puffs of your breath quiet in comparison.

“Sounds noisy,” he says, and when you sigh, there’s a weary undertone that plucks a chord in Eddie’s heart.

“Yeah. It is. Gonna come rescue me? My knight in shining armor?”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie groans, hard plastic receiver pressing into his temple. “You know I would in a heartbeat, princess. Gareth told you all the flights are fucked?”

“Yeah. Guess we’re just shit outta luck, this year.”

“Two more weeks,” Eddie says, clawing at the only hopeful thread he’s got left. “Two more weeks of this horseshit and January third, baby, my ass is on a plane to you. If it kills me. Seriously.”

“It’s not gonna kill you.” Buttery soft and gentler than he thinks he deserves, you say, “However much you’re missin’ me, I’m feeling the same. I know it sucks to be apart right now, but I’m so proud of you. And the band. But mostly you. I’m probably too partial.”

Eddie grins and lets the praise wash over him, tucks it away for a dreary day (which’ll be tomorrow, at this rate). “Good thing somebody is. Keeps me sane in this godforsaken wasteland.”

He’s being dramatic and you both know it- but since Eddie’s much worse off in terms of post-call comfort, you let it slide. After drawn out, gushy goodbyes and promises to call sometime tomorrow, Eddie treks back reluctantly into the heat of the bar.

In the time it took to make the call, the place had filled out- mostly farmers and locals eager to celebrate the upcoming holiday with whiskey and gossip; Eddie squeezes through a sea of knit scarves and bobbled hats to get back to the table. 

Upon their Fearless Leader’s return, Jeff’s the only one with balls enough to look Eddie in the eye when he says, “There’s a fan of yours at the corner booth who wants a signature.”

“Gotta be shittin’ me.” Not yet seated, Eddie leans into his fists on the table, but he’s quick to swallow his irritation, even as he mutters expletives under his breath. Bona fide fans of the band are still rare enough to be exciting, and he really, really doesn’t want to be an asshole to anyone, especially not a fan, not on Christmas.

Plus, Eddie’s feeling softer, more charitable, since he got to speak with you. Unfortunately for his not-yet-curated rockstar persona, you make him a better person. Even from across the country.

To show his displeasure with the general situation, Eddie swipes a tall-necked beer from Gareth’s collection and downs a quarter of it on his way across the bar. There’s a line of booths along the back wall, partially hidden by the centralized bar; strings of Christmas lights and tinsel twinkle from the rafters along the path Eddie takes, while an old stereo system plays local holiday FM. 

Eddie winds his way between tables and the bustling bar, trying to come up with a game plan to make this interaction as friendly and speedy as possible- but when he rounds the corner and sees the booth, he freezes.

There you are. Sitting in a bar booth in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho, wearing your downy winter jacket and a smile bright as a homing beacon.

It’s like his brain is on a ten second delay, everything between his ears a high pitched ring as he takes you in while anything that isn’t you melts away into insignificance. 

“Hi,” you say, beaming, rising out of the booth, brimming with excitement.

Eddie almost trips over his own boot to close the distance, pulling you into his arms, wrapping them tight around your shoulders. He buries his face into the side of your neck, breathing deep, memorizing for the next time you’re not this close.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs, hoarse against your hair, and he feels the giddy laughter tremble through your whole frame. 

You’re clinging to him, too, a big handful of his flannel in your left hand, the outline of his skull in the other, thumb sweeping under all those curls, soothing. “Hi, baby. Hi. Couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

Eddie pulls away to kiss your cheek, then mirrors the action, then behind your ear and down down until you’re giggling, pushing at his forehead in protest- “Don’t you wanna know how I’m here?”

“Santa,” Eddie says, confident, squeezing your hips. “Or God. Who I will totally believe in and pledge my soul to for bringing you here.”

“I don’t think you can pledge something that’s already mine.” You punctuate this with a poke to his ribs, then a pull of his hand, and Eddie follows you into the booth, sitting close enough to keep a hand tracking a soft path over your thigh. 

It was Gareth’s idea, apparently- he called home a few days ago, confirmed that you were equally eager to pull off the surprise. The original plan was to meet at the band’s next tour stop, but when the Christmas Day gig got cancelled and a blizzard rolled in, your plans went hinky.

“It was Uncle Wayne, in the end.” You kiss the back of Eddie’s knuckles, and he feels a tender part of his heart thump in response. “He covered the extra cost of a last-minute ticket, figured out the bus route to this place for me, too. Said to tell you Merry Christmas.”

Eddie could cry from the wave of gratefulness that swells in his chest, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a shimmering line of tears in your own eyes, and he can’t have that, so in lieu of words he leans in and kisses you.

Your lips slot perfect and familiar against his own, tasting the sweetness from an earlier candy cane. Eddie’s tongue traces the contours of the inside of your mouth, probably a bit too familiar for a public setting but fuck it, it’s Christmas and no one’s watching.

The two of you are mostly sequestered in the corner of the big room, the added bulk to Eddie’s frame from his jacket doing a perfect job of shielding you from view, happily backed against the wall with one leg draped over his thigh.

When Eddie finally pulls back, just enough to see you, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt, fingers warming against his ribs. There’s an inked sparrow you find by memory, one of your favorite places to touch and kiss.

Your thumb runs over the familiar spot, the signals of his skin decipherable to you alone. 

Eddie fills his lungs with air and tries to quell the stiff wave of arousal, and in the same breath, winces, remembering- “Well, sweet thing, I’d invite you back to my place but I’m sharing a one-room with a whole pack of miscreants.”

Eddie’s about to suggest raiding the motel’s blanket stock and sleeping in the van, just the two of you, when something like guilt pinches at your features. “Um. Yeah. About that. I may have bullied Gareth into getting me your manager’s number, and I also may have called him from the airport and chewed him out a bit.”

When Eddie’s brows shoot up in shock, delight, you wince, cutting him off before a word can get in edgewise- “It’s not right that he left you all stranded out here, on fucking Christmas, no less- you’re the ones funding that asshole’s cozy little vacation.” 

With the strength of your conviction, you tilt your chin up, eyes glittering and defiant- “I told him if he wasn’t gonna take care of you boys, I’d take care of him. Get right on a flight just to kick his ass.”

The hand still at Eddie’s ribs flexes with residual anger, your nails digging a quick flash of welcome pain that helps tether him to the present, mind almost completely fogged over with lust at the thought of you bitching out his piece of shit manager. 

“So…” Eddie starts, clears his throat, tries to tug at his pant leg subtly but catches the moment that sharp spark of your hostility melts into a smirk; you drum your fingers against him with a tilted head as he finds his voice- “So he’s gonna, what, promise to be less of an asshole in the new year, is that the deal?”

“Yeah. That and a couple of hotel rooms magically opened up for my favorite rockstar. Four of ‘em, enough for the boys to each have their own- if you don’t mind sharing with me, that is.”

Eddie wants to swallow the coy tilt of your mouth but settles for kissing you again, veins zipping with glee and good cheer; he pulls you in impossibly closer, tugging by the lapels of your coat, nose to nose while you giggle, smothering his affections- “Holy shit. Babe, you’re the rockstar. Replace me with a cardboard cutout and I don’t think anyone would know the difference. What in the fuck are we still doing here?”

Eddie moves to pull you both from the booth, overzealous in his excitement; you shift to keep your weight on the bench, Eddie plopping back down with a little oof while you chastise, “Hold on, I have to give the boys their room keys and I wanna wish them a merry Christmas! Plus, you should probably give yourself a second to- uh- settle down.”

You’re doing a poor job of concealing your amusement and Eddie groans, arms wrapping around his middle and hunching forward, head hitting the table with a dull thunk. “Fuck’s sake. I’m a short walk away from getting you alone in a warm room with a real bed and you’re telling me not to pop a stiffy at the thought? I’m but a mere mortal, have some compassion, jesus christ.”

“Nope, just me.” An escaped lock of dark hair gets caught between your fingertips, then tucked behind his ear. When you lean in to kiss the exposed spot shivers erupt down Eddie’s spine, even more when you whisper, “Can call me whatever you want once you get me in that room, though.”

After a few more minutes in which Eddie attempts to recall every unsexy thing that has ever happened in the span of his life, you’re both presentable enough to weave hand in hand back to Corroded’s table. 

There’s a flurry of exclamations and hugs, well wishes and present-distribution (because of course you packed everyone’s gifts, seeing as you’re some sort of angel or perhaps a fae being from Valinor, Eddie hasn’t decided yet). 

Eddie buys another round of drinks for the troupe, and tousles Gareth’s hair while the other two are distracted with Jake’s new Lego set. “Merry Christmas, kid. I owe you one.”

Gareth’s cheeks are rosy from the heater and the alcohol as he gives a nod of acknowledgement; they clink beers, and all is forgiven.

Once everyone is set up with the hotel address and their individual room keys, Eddie plucks at your elbow, patience stretching thin until the two of you are finally, finally borne out into the cold on a wave of goodbyes.

The snow is blindingly white, even in the low light of a winter’s eve; Eddie blinks, the image of your face tipped up to the sky burned into the black of his eyelids.

A perfectly-formed snowflake lands on the high point of your cheek, dissolving into your skin. Eddie kisses the spot and winds an arm around your low back, pleased when you bundle into his side.

“Our chariot awaits,” he declares, sweeping a grand arm at the endless snow and empty street, which makes you laugh again.

“Come on.” Your eye roll is fond as you pull Eddie’s steps in line with yours, setting off in the direction of a hot bath and silk sheets. “Let’s see if we can’t find us a little Christmas cheer.”

Eddie thinks he might be starting to like Idaho.

[pussyhoundspock]

i think it rules that daniel and kreese hate each other like sososososo much its unreal like arguably kreese has never gotten over the fact that ONE TIME an underage twink beat his guys at ONE karate tournament in the 80s (even though they still got 2nd 3rd and 4th) that it was enough to tank his whole business and ruin his life so completely. and also they're both gay. but there is just no homoerotic tension between them at all it's just pure raw nonsexual lifelong hatred between two gay people who do NOT vibe. which is even more impressive when you think about how good they are at having homoerotic tension with like, literally every single other man in their respective lives.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Omgg can u do some matt x actress!reader hc?? Love you xx

Actress- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Actress!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, slight cursing

summary: head cannons of Matt with an actress girlfriend!

—

☆SFW

Matt thought he knew everything there was to know about fame; the screaming fans, the off guard photos, and the rumors. When he started dating you, though, he was shocked at the intensity of your life.

☆ Every time you’re out in public, you get recognized by a fan or paparazzi, without fail.

☆ You’re waiting in line for your coffee, holding Matt’s hand as you engage in meaningless, light conversation with him.

☆ A loud gasp interrupts you mid sentence, causing you to look in the direction of the noise.

☆ A fan stands there with a hand covering their mouth, eyes blown open in pure shock. “Oh my God! Y/n?! Can I have a picture please?”

☆ You never turn a fan down and soon, when other people realize who you are, it’ll become like a little meet and greet, and Matt becomes the photographer.

☆ When the paparazzi recognizes you, though, you’re not as quick to pose for a picture.

☆ “Matt, don’t look,” you warn, eyes darting between him and the paparazzi snapping pictures of you through the restaurant window.

☆ Matt never listens, he immediately cranes his neck to see what you’re talking about. “I said don’t look!” you squeak, trying to pull his attention back towards you.

☆ “Fuck off,” Matt groans, throwing the paparazzi a middle finger and returning to his meal with you.

☆ Matt is always excited about your newest project, whether you’re playing a main, side, or background character.

☆ You’re getting ready for the premiere of your newest film, Burn It.

☆ “Matt what are you wearing?” you laugh.

☆ “Just supporting my girl,” he replies. He does a small twirl, showing off his outfit. He’s wearing a shirt with the movie poster printed on the front, your face right smack in the middle and the title in bold letters right above it.

☆ “It’s the premiere, you gotta dress up,” you laugh, secretly enjoying the sillyness of it all.

☆ “Fine. But I’m wearing this under my suit,” he replies, exiting the room. After a while, you start hearing the trailer to the movie playing from your room.

☆ He’s equally as supportive of your small roles.

☆ “Hey guys! So Chris, Nick, Y/n, and I are at the movie theater and we’re about to watch Y/n’s new movie The Escape,” Matt says, introducing the theme of their YouTube video.

☆ “Babe, I literally played cashier #3,” you chuckle from behind the camera, holding a big bucket of popcorn.

☆ “I’d watch it if you played a piece of grass,” he replies seriously.

☆ Whenever a new movie of yours releases, you’re usually booked and busy with press tours and interviews.

☆ During these interviews, the initial questions are usually about the movie, but as the interview progresses they become more personal.

☆ “So, Y/n, have you found Mr.Right?” the interviewer asks, fidgeting with the cue cards in front of her.

☆ The question is corny, and you’ve been asked it millions of times before, but you always answer truthfully because you’ve never hidden your relationship status.

☆ “Yup and his name is Matthew Sturniolo,” you reply cheekily, sending the camera a wink. When Matt watches the interview, he feels like a fan who just got a shoutout.

☆ There have been roles that require you to kiss your costars and Matt is never a fan of those.

☆ “Beautiful take!” the director exclaims, clapping his hands loudly in approval. “But let’s get it one more time! Add a little more fire! More passion,” he instructs, snapping his fingers.

☆ Matt joined you on set today, and quite frankly he wishes he didn’t. He hates seeing you kiss another man, even if it is just for show.

☆ Once the director gets the perfect shot, you’re all sent to lunch. “Hi baby,” you hum, walking over to Matt and wrapping your arms around his waist.

☆ You go in for a kiss and he quickly leans in, wanting to claim you in front of everyone.

☆ You are no stranger to rumors and speculations, especially not when a male costar is involved.

☆ “Actress, Y/n trades in her YouTuber for a REAL celebrity,” “Y/n found a new boo?,” “What happened to Matthew Sturniolo and who is the new guy in Y/n’s life?”

☆ Matt can’t stop reading the gossip newsletters and blogs, and even if he knows they’re just rumors he finds himself becoming sad.

☆ “Matt! Where are you?” you shout through the house. You find him on his bed, scrolling relentlessly on his laptop.

☆ “Whatcha doing? Wanna play Mario Kart?” you ask, crawling into bed next to him. Your eyes blow open in shock when you see his screen.

☆ “Matt stop reading that shit!” you exclaim. “I can’t help it,” he groans, running his hands down his face.

☆ You snatch the laptop and drag him out of bed for a night full of Mario Kart and cuddling on the couch.

☆ With a schedule as busy as yours, it can become difficult for you to make time for your personal life.

☆ “I miss you,” Matt whispers through the phone. You’re on a press tour for your newest film and your side of the bed has been empty for 2 months now.

☆ “I miss you too, baby,” you murmur. It hurt to know that you still had another month of this tour left.

☆ “When you come back I’m never letting you go,” his voice is sad, but he knows 3 months isn’t forever.

☆ “I can’t wait,” you giggle, eyes falling on the digital clock across the room. It’s getting late and you have an early interview tomorrow.

☆ “I have to go baby, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Matt’s sad to let you go, it feels like he rarely hears your voice nowadays if it isn’t playing from his TV.

☆ “Okay, beautiful.”

☆ When you’re invited to events or award shows, Matt always joins as your plus one.

☆ “And the nominees are…” the announcer says, listing the names as she reads them from the teleprompter.

☆ Matt squeezes your hand when your name is said, a huge smile spreading across his face.

☆ “The winner for best actress in a leading role is…” the suspense is killing you, but you feel the victory in your soul.

☆ “Y/n!” The entire crowd cheers at the mention of your name and you can’t help but shoot up from your seat in excitement.

☆ “Oh my God, Matt! I won!” You exclaim, pulling him in for a kiss.

☆ You scurry on stage, nervous hands taking your award and preparing for an improvised speech. You end the speech with a special thanks to your friends and family, making sure to specifically thank Matt as you blow him kisses from the stage.

☆ He watches with teary eyes and a huge, dopey smile.

☆NSFW

Matt loves joining you on set and sometimes things can become a little heated between you two.

☆ You hated photo shoots, especially when it involved lingerie and/ or bikinis. Matt, on the other hand, loved photo shoots and he was always quick to join you for them.

☆ “I’m so cold,” you shiver, plopping onto the couch next to Matt. You’re wearing a lingerie set so small that you might as well be naked.

☆ “I know of a few ways to warm you up,” Matt replies, only half joking. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, earning an excited giggle from you.

☆ “Oh yeah?” you tease, pulling him in for a kiss.

☆ Before you know it, he’s pushed your panties to the side and is fucking you so hard the couch is moving with each thrust.

☆ Although Matt knows your relationship with your male costars is purely professional, he can’t help but become jealous.

☆ “How was work today?” Matt asks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

☆ “Eh same old same old. We’re stuck on the same scene,” you reply, hoping he won’t ask any further questions.

☆ “Hmm that sucks,” he hums. “What scene is it?”

☆ You gulp nervously, knowing how much Matt is going to hate your answer. “The bathroom sex scene.”

☆ You feel his body stiffen immediately. “It’s just because the set is small and the angles are awkward,” you continue.

☆ “Mhm,” is all he says.

☆ Later, when you’re getting ready for bed and doing your nighttime routine, he pins you against the bathroom counter and fucks you dumb.

☆ “This pussy is mine,” he grunts into your ear, earning a whimper from you.

☆ When you’ve been gone for long press tours, he becomes needy and you two have to resort to phone sex.

☆ “I miss you, baby,” he murmurs. “I miss you too, so much,” you reply.

☆ “No, like, I miss you,” he reiterates, allowing his hand to travel below the waistband of his sweats.

☆ “Touch yourself,” you instruct. “Pretend it’s me.”

☆ You continue to talk him through it, not stopping until you hear his beautiful, breathy moans.

☆ “You did so good,” you praise and he swears his dick gets hard again.

☆ When you finally do return from your long trips, Matt is extremely needy.

☆ He’s waiting for you impatiently at the airport, ready to engulf you in his arms as soon as he sees you.

☆ When you get home, he attacks you with a bunch of kisses until they become more needy and passionate.

☆ His hands wander all over your body, massaging and kneading at your skin like it’s the first time.

☆ You push him back into the bed and straddle his lap, bouncing on his cock until he’s satisfied.

☆ “Oh my God!— Fuck! I love you,” he moans, bucking his hips into you as he climaxes.

☆ “Holy fuck. Maybe I should go on tour more often,” you giggle, peppering kisses along Matt’s face. “Please no,” he mumbles.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: 📸📸📸 working on Arranged Ch.2, a Johnnie fic & another Matt headcannon!

Also ily2 thank u for the request! xoxox - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @stingerayyy2 @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[campbell-rose]

Hazbin Trailer + Rewrite Spitballing

The Hazbin Trailer omg

I finally watched it and like... it's so bad guys. Honestly, the only people I pity are the animators and the pilot voice actors, and the new actors too. Blake Roman especially, the man is super talented, but trying to fill the massive shoes of Michael is weighing his performance down so bad. Honestly, if Viv wasn't a petty brat, she could've kept Michael and gotten Blake as the singing voice.

Apparently there's a war on Heaven plot? I hope to god not, like that's NOT THE PREMISE. God Viv just cannot stick to her premises, can she? This happened with Zoophobia, initially it seemed like it was going to follow Cameron but slowly lost focus on her. Then Helluva Boss losing the hired assassin plot for the sake of shitty Stolitz drama. Seems redeeming sinners is going to be a side plot which is unfortunate because that was one of the biggest things i wanted from this show. I remember when i used to love Vivziepop and i got so excited for the pilot of Hazbin. Redeeming sinneers, that sounded so cool. It's what got me into demonology and was a big part of my life. Sad to see this happen.

I genuinely hate the stupid trope of heaven, the place that is literally paradise for good people, being bad. Like, i cannot feasibly imagine a universe in which Viv manages to write that in any compelling way. And why is it just ‘heaven bad’??? This could be an interesting story that discusses the nature of good and bad, talks about what makes someone a good person, should people be given redemption if they already blew their chance, is the definition of 'good' wrong? Like, in the hands of competent writers, Hazbin could be an interesting story, like a Walmart Good Place! But no, heaven bad, let's go kill angels that say fuck.

Like, as an example of my above point, let’s look at a familiar face from Helluva Boss, Mrs. Mayberry. 

She killed someone, tried to kill someone, then herself, and is now in hell. But a good question could be raised of if her being in hell is even justified. Yes, she killed a person (and attempted to kill another) which is not a good thing to do. But she killed her husband in a fit of rage after seeing him cheating on her – like actively, red handed, balls deep cheating on her. From what we see of her before her death, she seems like an attentive and caring teacher and wife, she even says herself she was ‘good my entire life’. Her students love her, and literally the reason she kills herself seems to be because she realizes that they saw her literally murder someone. She did choke and throw a child, but that was played for comedy so I'm not counting that against her. She kills herself because she’s so shocked about what she’s done. She’s bitter because she’s in hell.  

Her husband was a cheater and the woman she tried to kill was a murderer and a cannibal, so by that logic, doesn’t her killing a bad person negate the killing? Yes, murder is bad, she should’ve controlled herself, but this was one terrible moment in a lifetime of being good. Like, say someone kills a pedobear, is the person commiting the murder a bad person for killing someone who deserved it? Not that her husband deserved to die for cheating, a good beat down maybe. If a good person kills a bad person, does that make them a bad person too? Or does it come down to intention? Did the good only kill the bad for a selfish reason?

That’s an interesting conundrum (in my opinion). Does she deserve to redeem herself? How would she redeem herself? If I keep thinking on it, i'll ramble, but that's my thinking. Anyway, this made me think about a rewrite that follows this line of thinking.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Charlie being an angel and Vaggie being her Exterminator guard who goes with her to hell to redeem sinners is the best way to make this mess an interesting thing. Like, Charlie is an optimistic angel who thinks the extermination of sinners is inhumane and that the standards of Heaven need changed. Vaggie is literally trained to kill sinners and sees Charlie’s efforts as futile but is assigned to help her anyway. Makes sense why everyone would disrespect Charlie and treat her like an idiot for wanting to redeem sinners, instead of insulting the daughter of FUCKING LUCIFER HIMSELF, they’re laughing at an angel who came down out of nowhere and is acting high and mighty.

Also, Charlie can keep the name Charlie Magne instead of Morningstar because she's no longer Lucifer's daughter. Vaggie is just V. boom, problem solved, i'm a genius.

Have a doodle

[ourtearsofrain]

Just Another Scary Movie (D.R.W/S.F.K)

Summary: When Sam does everything he can to finally just get one night to himself, he gets exactly what he wanted, spending the night watching shitty rom coms all comfy on his couch. But when a strange caller interrupts his night of relaxation, all his plans come crashing down on his head.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka (!Scream AU)

Series Genre: angst, horror

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: man threatening/breaking and entering/physically restraining someone (Just imagine the actual Scream movies, less blood and stuff but same phycological mind fuck)

--------------------------------------------------------

Sam truly did love living with his brothers, but quickly learned that the two rarely spent time apart from each other, only dragging Sam into their “adventures” as soon as he had settled into their house and his class schedules. Which was fine, after only seeing them on holidays for six years, he was grateful to spend so much time with them again, just like they did before the twins left for college. But Sam needed time to himself every once and a while, a concept that his brothers seemed to not understand. So, he took every chance he could to have the house to himself for the night, often making excuses that he had to be up early for a required attendance lecture the next day or that he was too exhausted to join them.

And that’s exactly what he had done tonight; when the twins invited him to go club hopping with them to celebrate Jake finishing his thesis, Sam had even feigned a cold to stay at home when they didn’t believe his other excuses, wanting nothing more than to watch movies all night long curled up on the couch with a freshly packed bong. Sam didn’t feel like explaining just how stressful and exhausting transferring universities in his Junior year and moving to another state had been for him, he was trying to focus on how great it was to be with his brothers again and didn’t need them feeling sorry for him. So, he had done everything to make sure it would be the perfect cozy night at home, knowing he needed just one calm night to himself. Sam had pre-popped popcorn for when he got the munchies, wrapped himself in his favorite throw blanket, and decided to wear the smallest shorts he owned, knowing that he would be asleep by the time the twins got home so they wouldn’t be able to give him shit over it.

Hitting ‘play’ on whatever new, probably shitty, Netflix original rom com he had decided on, Sam grabs his lighter, already knowing from the trailer that he needed to be incredibly high to sit through it. Just as the intro begins to play, Sam’s phone buzzes wildly on the couch next to him, halting his movements as he reaches for the bong. That’s weird, someone’s calling me. Jake and Josh never call when they’re out, unless it’s an emergency. Trying to keep himself calm, Sam picks up his phone, his heart rate steadying once more when he sees an unrecognized caller ID. Usually, he never answered those calls, choosing to send them to voicemail instead, but his relief that the twins were fine clouds his mind as he answers it, pausing his movie and putting his phone on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hello.” A deep voice rasps through the phone, and Sam can’t help but wonder if that was actually what his voice sounded like, or if he was using some voice filter to remain anonymous.

“Yes?”

“Who is this?” Great, a wrong number dial. Just what I needed interrupting my movie night.

“Who are you trying to reach?” Sam tries not to let his annoyance into his tone, knowing that it probably wasn’t the caller’s fault that they accidentally called him so late into the night.

“I don’t know.”

I’m getting tired of this. “Well, you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, have a great night.” Sam hangs up without another word, tossing his phone back onto the couch as he reaches for his bong once again. His hand doesn’t even find the cool glass before his phone begins buzzing, annoyance and frustration taking root in him when he sees the same number flash across his screen. “Hello??”

“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”

“So, why’d you call me again?”

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“And you have now, so bye.” Sam’s finger hovers over the ‘end call’ button before the mystery caller’s voice filters through the speaker, the hint of desperation tinging his tone.

“Wait, wait! Don’t hang up please.”

“Why?”

“I wanna talk to you for a little.”

Disgusting creep. “Pornhub is free if you’re looking to get off tonight, or go find some AI text chat to fulfill whatever you need.” Sam hangs up, trying to keep the weird caller off his mind as he didn’t want it to ruin his night. You need this, Sammy. You just need one fucking relaxing night at home to reset, don’t let him ruin that for you.

He gets about five more minutes into the movie before his phone rings again, thankful that their family had an unlimited plan so that whoever was constantly calling him wouldn’t drain any of his minutes. With his first bong rip flowing through his body, he can’t seem to find it in himself to be annoyed as calm fills him, curious to see exactly what the fuck this person wanted from him. If all else failed, he could always block them. “Hello? Seriously, what do you want?”

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” He sounds… genuinely sad?

“Because I don’t know who you are.”

“You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” Sam almost laughs as he picks up a few pieces of popcorn, not realizing that he had put his phone on speaker again and was holding it close enough to himself that the caller would be able to hear him eat. “What’s that noise?”

“Popcorn.” Sam’s answer comes immediately, his mind too muddled to care about the unimportant question.

“I only eat popcorn when I watch a movie.” Amusement tinges the caller’s voice as he pauses, the silence heavy through the speaker as Sam waits to see if he would continue. “Are you watching a movie? Is that what I hear?”

“Yep. Some cheesy rom com. Do you like rom coms?” If he was being honest, Sam couldn’t explain what prompted him to ask the question, too inebriated to care and willing to just talk to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Not really. I prefer horror movies. Do you like horror movies?”

“Eh, some of the classics. IT, Friday the 13th, The Shining, Halloween, stuff like that. I’m not a fan of most of the newer stuff since CGI has gotten better, it’s too gory for me.” Sam considers his words for a moment, thinking back on all the new horror movies Jake had forced him and Josh to watch over the years. “Actually, the newer IT movies were pretty good too.”

“Is that your favorite horror movie?”

Shrugging, Sam realizes that the other man couldn’t see him over the phone, slightly amused at himself that he had forgotten. “I guess. Do you have a favorite horror movie?”

“Hmmmm… maybe Sleepaway Camp. You ever seen that?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“The ending is reaaally scary.

“Oh, is it?”

“Mhm.” Not knowing how to feel about the hungry undertones of the caller’s voice, he moves past it, unable to care enough about it to end the call. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

Sam’s cheeks tinge bright pink at the unexpected question, his sudden nerves coming off as what he worried was flirtatious banter. “Why? You wanna ask me out or something?”

“Maybe” The single word sends butterflies to Sam’s stomach, the smile in the other man’s voice audible even through his speaker. This is a really weird pick-up attempt, but it’s the first romantic possibility I’ve gotten here so far… “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Y’know, you never told me your name.” Why does he sound so hungry? Shit, I’m hungry, I’m probably just projecting. At the realization that the munchies had hit him, Sam moves the popcorn bowl closer to himself, snacking off it as he considers what to say.

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

Sam feels as if he had been thrown into a freezing lake as ice cold fear seeps into his bones at the words. When he doesn’t see anyone after glancing around himself, his eyes go out the large window beside the TV, the night too dark to see more than five feet outside of it. “What did you just say?”

“I said, I wanna know who I’m talking to.” The caller’s smooth, even voice sends another wave of terror over Sam, the other man’s tone unsettlingly calm and collected.

“That’s- that’s not what you said.”

“And what do you think I said?” The speaker goes silent, and Sam’s anxiety finally gets the best of him as he darts up to close the blinds to the window, trying to squint into the darkness to see further. “Hello?”

“I need to- I gotta go-”

“Wait! I didn’t get to ask you out.” Although his tone remains mostly the same, Sam can hear the eagerness and despiration in his voice, and while the anonymity of the other man used to spark intrigue inside of Sam, now it only brought dread.

“No thank you.”

“Don’t hang up on me!” Sam nearly misses his words over the sound of him slamming the blinds closed, his hands shaking as he presses that red button in the bottom center of his screen.

Fuck, did the twins lock the front door? Nearly tripping over his blanket, he absentmindedly chucks it back onto the couch as he races to the front door, his stomach dropping to see it unlocked. He can’t get to the door fast enough, forcing his hands to steady before slamming the deadbolt into place. The sudden buzzing in his hand nearly makes him jump out of his skin, scared tears beginning to brew on his lash line at the number.

“Y-yes?”

“I told you not to hang up on me.” The anger in his tone is enough to nearly send Sam over the edge, his paranoia overtaking him as his eyes stay locked on the door.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“Well then just- just call someone else, okay?” The second Sam hangs up, he navigates to the “contact” for the number, his finger mere centimeters from the “block” button before his screen lights up. It was the same number, the same person. Again. His fear transforms into anger momentarily, his frustration at his interrupted movie night filling him. Who did this person think they were calling him like that? From taking him away from his night of relaxation? “Listen, asshole!”

“No! You listen, you little bitch! You hang up on me again and I’ll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!” Sam is left frozen in his spot at the rage dripping from the caller’s words, his stomach turning from the open and graphic threat as he tries to find something, anything to respond with.

“Is this- is this some kind of a joke?”

“More of a game, really.” There’s that slick, cunning tone again. This guy is fucking psychotic. “Can you handle that… Sammy?”

How the fuck does he know my name? Sam tries to keep himself calm, his mind moving in slow motion through every possibility. “I’m gonna- I’ll call the cops.”

“Even if you hung up right now to do that, they’d never get here in time.” The caller’s voice carries an almost musical, sing-songy lilt to it, only furthering Sam’s utter terror. Is this is all- just some fucking game to him?

“What- what do you want?”

“To see if you’re still this pretty without your skin.” Nausea crashes over Sam at the words, the other man’s sincere tone sending him racing to the kitchen and grabbing the nearest trashcan he can find before emptying his stomach into the bin. Straightening, Sam finds his phone face-down on the floor, almost staring at him, beckoning him closer with each second. Just when he bends to pick it up, three booming knocks ring out against the window over the sink, the frames rattling as if the glass was on the verge of shattering.

“Who’s there?! Who’s there?!” Sam nearly sobs the words out, huddling closer to the counter from the floor, his knees pulled to his chest. “I’m calling the fucking cops!”

“You should never say, ‘Who’s there?’.” The caller cuts him off just as Sam moves to hang up, that deep, smooth voice pausing his motions. “You’d know that if you watched horror movies. It’s a death wish, y’know. There’re three rules to surviving in a horror movie. Rule number one is don’t fuck. Think you’ve got that one covered, Sammy boy. Rule two, don’t drink or do drugs. Not off to a great start here, are we?” Disappointment drips from his tone, tsking at Sam until he feels like he could physically picture the caller shaking his head. “And rule number three is never, ever fucking say ‘I’ll be right back’ or ‘Who’s there?’. That makes two out of three, I’m afraid your chances aren’t lookin’ too good here, Sammy.”

Just as the words leave the caller’s mouth, Sam glances up at the window, catching a flash of white and black just on the other side of the glass. Throwing himself into the corner, Sam takes up as little space as possible, hoping that if whatever had passed by the window looked back into it, he wouldn’t be able to see Sam. “No! Please, please, I don’t want to die. I- why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“I want to play a game.”

Sam’s tears roll down his cheeks at the monotony of his words. It is all just a game to him. He’s- he’s playing with me like I’m some toy. “No.”

“Then you die.”

“No, no, please!”

“Which is it then, Sammy?”

“What kind- what kind of game?”

“Go back to the living room and find out.”

Did this sick fuck get in?! Am I- is he gonna kill me the second I get in the room? Is he just waiting to attack? Sam stands on shaky legs, forcing his body to move through the kitchen in the direction of the living room. The moonlight filtering through the window catches the light off the cold steel of a knife in a woodblock, and Sam grabs it before continuing his path. Tiptoeing through the silent house, Sam peeks around the corner only to find the living room empty, his shitty romcom still playing on the TV.

“Good, now here’s how we play: I ask a question, if you get it right, I leave you alone.”

“Please, please don’t do this.”

“Come onnnn, it’ll be fun.”

This could- this could be my only chance to get out. What the fuck is this, why is this happening to me? I don’t- I don’t know what to do. “Fine.” Sam’s words are no louder than a whisper, heavy with defeat as he peeks through the blinds, his eyes scanning the trees outside of the window desperately.

“It’s an easy category: classic horror movie trivia. I’ll even give you a warm-up question. What’s the name of the summer camp where ‘Friday the 13th’ takes place?”

“I- I don’t remember. I don’t remember.”

“Come onnnn, you said it was one of the classics. You like the classics, remember?”

“I-” Sam cuts himself off, his mind scrambling in his terror to remember anything he could about the movie. “Camp- Camp Crystal?”

“Oh, you’re so close Sammy.” The caller purrs the words out, only adding to the distractions swirling around his head.

“Camp Crystal- Camp Crystal Lake! It’s Camp Crystal Lake!”

“Yes! Good job, Sammy. Now, for your real question. That was just a warm-up, remember?”

“Please- please-” Sam tries to blink the tears from his eyes, knowing that he would never be able to see anything happening around him if he let them pool to blur his vision.

“Same category. Who first says ‘Beep, beep Richie’ in the 2017 IT?”

“One of the Losers- one of- uhhh, probably Eddie! It’s one of the Losers, you sick fuck!” Nearly screaming the words out, relief floods Sam as he realizes what his correct answer meant for him.

“I’m sorry, Sammy! That’s the wrong answer!”

“No! No, it’s not! It was one of them, I’ve seen that movie so many fucking times, I know it’s one of them!”

“Then you should know that in the 2017 remake, Pennywise is the first to say ‘Beep, beep Richie’! None of the other Losers say it in the first movie! That’s only in the original!”

“You- you tricked me-”

“I didn’t though, Sammy. Lucky for you, I’m willing to give you a bonus round, just to see if you can redeem yourself.” Sam holds his breath, the caller’s seconds of silence stretching into what felt like hours. “Where am I?”

“What?”

“Where am I? Am I outside, or am I in the house? Where. Am. I?”

Feeling as if his heart had stopped, Sam can do nothing but hang up the phone, clutching the knife in his hand as he makes a beeline for his bedroom. Ok, Josh- Josh- I need to call him. I need to get to my room, lock the door, and then call him. I need to- to call the cops. Dread fills him with each step towards the stairs as he’s sent straight to voicemail, waiting for the tone to begin his recording. “Josh there’s- there’s someone here with me, threatening me, they want to- they want to hurt me. I’m- I’m locking myself in my room and calling the cops but just- I don’t know if they’re in the house but-” Panic flashes across his mind as realization hits him. I didn’t check the back door. We never- we never lock the back door.

The knife and phone drop from his hand as someone body slams him, sending them both to the floor while Sam can do nothing but yelp in his shock. The other person straddles Sam before he can recover, pinning his wrists down on the floor with his hands, and Sam can think nothing, feel nothing, as he stares up at the masked figure above him. His black, hooded cloak hid any distinct features from Sam, but he swore he could see a singular, dark brown curl hanging down from under the hood, just to the side of his mask that resembled a disfigured, screaming ghost.

Sam sends his knee straight into the other man’s crotch, shoving him off himself as he claws at the mask, eventually ripping it from his face. Before he has a chance to look at him properly, Sam gives the man one final shove downwards before snatching his phone off the ground and darting up the stairs. He doesn’t stop until he slams and locks his door behind himself, looking around his room frantically for anything he could use as a weapon before realizing that he was still leaving Josh a voicemail. “Listen, please, please just pick up. Please, Josh, I need help-”

Something slams into Sam’s door, and hard. The force shakes the doorframe, the lock creaking under the impact, startling Sam and causing him to drop his phone in his terror. Racing to the window, his shaking hands fumble with the lock, finally ripping it wide open before he shoves the screen from the frame and it clatters to the ground as he tries to climb out. A loud crack rattles the room, and Sam glances back to see the man, the caller, standing in the door, the kitchen knife in hand as he takes heavy breaths.

The man makes it across the room and throws Sam to the floor before he can even try to hoist himself up, his terror multiplying as he pins him to the ground once again. Sam can do nothing but stare up at him when the other man straddles him, making sure to keep his legs pinned to the ground too, as he keeps his gorgeous hazel eyes glued to Sam.  I was right. Curly hair. He almost laughs from fear at the thought, knowing that he had much more important things to focus on at the moment, that he shouldn’t spend his remaining time thinking about the caller’s gorgeous shoulder length mess of curls, or how good it looked with the top half held back with a hair tie. And he really shouldn’t have been staring at each individual freckle dotting the arch of his nose, peppered across his sun-kissed skin like stars.

“So,” The caller starts, moving Sam’s wrists to one hand as the other comes down to grab the knife, before bringing the blade up to Sam’s throat, the cool metal stinging his skin under even the smallest amount of pressure. Although Sam realizes that the man must have filtered his voice over the phone, finding it now higher in pitch yet still deeper than his own, it was still as smooth and delicious as honey. “You still don’t like horror movies?”

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

This is possibly another contribution to @hearts-hunger 's Halloween event (2 or 11 ish if you squint?) (ik it's late, I just needed to write this)

Yes ik that Danny pic is from last yrs Jedi costume but HE’S WEARING A FUCKIN CLOAK/ROBE I HAD TO

I actually fucking hate Sleepaway Camp, the end isn't scary, it's just completely fucked up. Spoilers ahead if you don't feel like watching: the only reason the killer girl starts murdering people is because she's actually a boy who has been forced to dress and act like a girl for the last like 10 years of their life. No. Other. Reason.

Taglist:

@jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @ofthecaravel @holdingup-fallingsky

[jqmalikhsgib]

bloom

six

eddie smiles as he pushes his son on the swing. eddie got back home last night with some huge news. the album had been released while they were doing press conferences, gigs, meet and greets, and more and it was a success!

with the album already topping the charts, their record label told them they’d be even more busy than before and talking opening for metallica themselves. with that huge news, the large family celebrated with their friends and family. after celebrating all eddie wanted was to cuddle up to his baby boy and all six of his girls.

now he’s enjoying being at the park with his children while his fiancé was sitting reading a book with the twins sleeping in their stroller.

“higher, daddy!” aster yells. eddie chuckles as he pushes his son a little higher.

he watches as lunaria builds a sand castle while lily and jasmine take turns on the slide. he enjoyed his family! his kids meant so much to him. eddie never thought he’d be here. with the way he was raised and how kids treated him in school, he felt insecure. eddie didn’t think he’d ever be loved, let alone by the most beautiful woman in hawkins, hell the most beautiful woman in the world! yn had been popular, a cheerleader, on the debate team, school president, the list goes on. she’s smart, beautiful, kind, funny, the whole goddamn package. eddie felt lucky she wanted to be his friend, let alone his life partner. now he gets to marry her, spend the rest of his fucking life cherishing her and their six beautiful babies.

“if it isn’t munson.” eddie frowns when he hears the voice of jason carver. he tried to ignore the asshole, focusing on his son, but knowing carver he would try and get under eddie’s skin.

“come on, munson! why don’t you introduce me to the little guy, hmm?”

“im here spending time with my kids, jason. i do not have time for you right now.”

jason scoffs. “i still can’t believe you pulled yn of all people. i mean, i still think she’s under some cult spell or something. it’s no way a guy like you could ever be with a girl like that.” he points to yn.

eddie rolls his eyes. “buddy, why don’t you go make a sandcastle with your sister, huh? daddy will be there in a bit.”

“okay, daddy.” aster didn’t know who the man was but by the look in his dad face he knew he wasn’t very nice.

eddie pulls out a cigarette before lighting it. he rolls his eyes as he looks at jason before blowing smoke in the man’s face.

“we’re not kids anymore carver. if you wanna act like a little bitch, fine! but i got a family to feed. if you don’t have anything important to say, get the fuck out of my face, yeah? and while you’re at it, tell your little brother to leave my sister in law alone, huh?”

jason steps closer to eddie. he was shorter than the boy so he tried to make himself look taller. “or what?”

eddie smirks. “you remember what happened to you and your friends when steve and i kicked your ass the night we graduated? i hate for your brother to be the next victim, huh?”

jason glares at him. “that was an unfair fight!”

“was it, tough guy?” eddie takes another drag out of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stepping on it.

“eddie!” yn walks over to them.

“hi, yn. been awhile. miss me baby?”

“he’s not worth it eds.” eddie looks down at his fiancé and sees their twins sleeping peacefully in their stroller.

“you’re right, baby. how bout we get our babies and head home, yeah?”

yn nods her head as she glares at jason. “have fun living the trailer park life, yn! you could have had a nice house, car, designer bags, everything you’ve ever wanted. too bad you chose the trailer trash satanist.” jason calls out as they grab their kids and head to the car.

“you know he’s wrong, right?” yn runs her hands up and down eddie’s chest. eddie was in their bathroom brushing his teeth.

“not now, baby.” eddie sighs as he turns off the bathroom light and gets on his side of the bed. yn frown as she climbs on the other side. “eddie, you can’t let him ruin your good mood! you’re gonna be a successful rockstar. hell, you already are! why are you still letting guys like jason carver get to you about your future.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it baby. talk to me.” yn runs her hands up and down his chest.

“he’s right about you. by now you could have had that big house, a bigger engagement ring, the newest car, designer clothes, your own fucking chef. instead you settled for me because what? we got knocked up?!”

yn shakes her head. “i didn’t settle for you eddie! i love you and i wouldn’t want anyone else. why is it so hard for you to see that?” she scoffs.

yn could see right through him though. his insecurities from his past. his father calling him a loser who would never amount to anything after giving him a black eye, his mother not even sticking around leaving him with his abusive father, the kids in school being so cruel, picking on him for the holes in his clothes, even grown ass adults who use to tell him he’d end up just like his father. he felt like a worthless piece of shit. yn hated every single person who’s doubted eddie. it made him doubt himself. even with the success he’s achieved and how much of an amazing partner, son, and father he’s been.

“eddie munson, the moment i got to know you, i fell in love. you were the sweetest boy in the whole school. i had to make you mine. when i finally got the chance i never wanted to look back. i knew from that every moment that we’d get married someday, have a few kids, and grow old together. no amount of money or jewelry or designer clothes is worth my love for you. you gave me six beautiful babies and you’re one hell of a lover,” yn smirks while he chuckles and holds her tightly before she continues. “i love you mister munson, and no one can take that away!”

he kisses her passionately. “i love you too misses munson. and im gonna give you everything and more. you and the kids deserve that!”

“lets start by setting a date to our wedding, huh?!”

“whatever you want, darling.

[billyboyblue]

Hiii! 💛

I'm back on duty and I'm here to tickle the collective fandom brain.

With Presumed Innocent coming out soon (aaaah), I would just like to hear all your thoughts on Rusty. 

Is he guilty? If so, would we still do unholy things with him (duh, obviously)? Or is he just an innocent little guy and only guilty of cheating and murdering pussy? He obviously likes being choked and I'm not complaining. What else might he like? Is he a pancakes or bacon/scrambled egg breakfast kinda guy? He does need his protein tho, for several reasons... 👀

Please let me/us know all your thoughts and hopes for the new show and the character we're blessed with this summer, thank youuuu.

Paying my Rusty tax for inspiration ✨

Hi there hi!! Thank you so much for asking dude that's so considerate of you, I'm smiling like a loon whenever I see a little ditty about Jake going around 😊.

Oh yeah, so Rustholomew Jones Sabich the third is a full on useless man. And he expressed it multiple times in so many ways. The first thing we see is him looking for his phone first thing in the morning. What a dumb thing for a cheating man to do, lose his phone even in his own home. And then he asks someone to call it and it's his daughter that does so. Even for a little joke all I saw was chekovs gun.

Okay so I got insanely curious about the original after Jake's recent interview and watched it tonight and gosh yeah I'd recommend if you haven't seen it for Harrison's voice of nothing else, but in the movie there's a segment where he, Sabich, spells out the prosecutor's theory on himself and it's exactly what everyone sees in the new version. A jealous man driven mad with love and obsession pushed too far when left for another man. It's basically what's teased in the new trailer.

But what's different is the circumstances of the wife's role. I have 3 very specific moments I want to focus in on, this one:

The two times Rusty and Barbara look to each other with smiles on their faces and in the worst circumstances. One while on trial in front of the family and the other while presumably blowing up his mistress' phone on family night. One thing that immediately came to mind was huh. That's weird. Then this

Here she's saying that He and Her will fight to save their family. And he's puppydogging along as culpable as all hell doing his due repentance to save his family. As he should but also as he has no other choice because I believe that the murderer is his daughter or son. I'm leaning towards daughter as she didn't exist in the movie, she's an added layer to the plot directly drawn attention to 3 separate times in the trailer.

So what I think happens is this. Carolyn and Rusty begin their affair and it goes south, my instinct is something happens between Rusty's phone, his daughter and Carolyn to cause the strife. On the night Rusty texts her 30 times the daughter is there confronting Carolyn and struggle maybe?

Either way Carolyn is dead the daughter is responsible and now Rusty and Barbara have to close ranks. Rusty poses her in like a victim in a prior case to throw the cops off the trail.

To shine a bright suspicious spotlight on Rusty. To make it look like a multitude of things. It could be a prior killer seeking to mess with authorities and Rusty; it could be someone framing Him with the case they began their affair during; it could be rusty himself messing with the crime scene to mess with motive, (something the prosecution accuses him of doing in the movie). But really it's all a red herring to cover for his daughter and falling on the sword one way or the other. Either covering up a murder he's responsible for to protect his daughter or go to jail for a crime he didn't commit for his daughter.

I won't spoil the movie or who the killer is in it but hoo boy does it hit hard with an ending monologue and epilogue. I definitely wouldn't be surprised if the modernizing done was from the murderers standpoint. Either way I'm hoping for a good mystery over audience subversions.

There's something about pathetic men and the power trips they go on when they think they've found a space they can lose all the tie ups and inhibitions and insecurities. The euphoric rushes that come with secrets and taboo midnight confessions, panted and whined and gasped into a lovers mouth. The stinging ache of shame that splatters across his chest and cheeks as he's tied up and torn into like a present for a greedy hand make him feel that same warmth he used to get from being a good man and husband.

The sharp hatred and ragged words he fucks into Carolyn's more than accepting places feel like a balm on his soul. Not just the filthy things he says to her, or the shapes he folds her into, or the marks only he can leave are enough for men like him. They eat their obsession whole. Consume them to fill up all the hollow places they themselves carved into their life.

And that's what some men do. Use up the women in their lives in every way, stealing their life force ala Gone Girl like @ Stephendorff mentioned. It'd be beautiful poetry if after discarding his wife for Carolyn, and Carolyn for his daughter, that he pays that price.

But that's just a theory a game- no, no it's too soon. Sorry matpat it's too raw. Thanks you again Daphne! Hope I didn't let ya down and you liked the theory lolol😅

[nancydrewwouldnever]

I really feel like they were banking on the big names to bring in viewership for PH because every clip I've seen and the trailers really does...nothing for me. I'm the opposite. With Ghosted, yeah it was cringey but I'm a suckered for Hallmark cringey so I gave it a fair chance. Hell, even with The Gray Man and Knives Out I was drawn in by the trailer to see the movie. (Knives Out more than TGM, but still stands) With this, I have 0 interest in seeing the movie, even with "Chris Evans and Emily Blunt" as the title names. It just feels...off. And while, for me, a percentage is his current life choices giving me the ick, there is something else there that just feels weird with the clips and trailer. I'm still undecided if I want to get a Netflix account to watch it or not. TGM had action, even my grandparents watched it on a lazy Sunday afternoon once! 🤣, but I can not see casual viewership on this one, I'm sorry. It just feels bland and over done. Chris' accent shifts mid sentence really throws me off and Emily's character feels very bland to me, but we shall see. 🤷‍♀️ I loved him in DJ, I wish he would do another series - in my opinion, his acting shines through when he is able to stretch and develop his character. Like I really believed he was Andy Barber, I felt it. And then same with Lloyd and Ransom, which yes were movies, but there's something about those 2 that I connected with...but I'm glad to see you mention Snowpiecer, and then an Anon mentioned Push. Those are two other characters that he did really well in.

My problem with PH is I feel I've already seen this movie. It's just hitting too many tropes from other movies in a way which does not introduce something new. I'll watch a bad movie with a different and new premise over something which feels like regurgitation.

[themovieblogonline]

The Devil is Back: Daredevil: Born Again Gets a Premiere Date!

Okay, let's get ready Marvel fans! It's time to break out your binging gear because Daredevil is officially returning to our screens! That's right, Matt Murdock is suiting back up for "Daredevil: Born Again," a brand new show hitting Disney+ in March of 2025. Get ready for some epic courtroom battles and butt-kicking action – this ain't your average lawyer drama! Now, hold on a sec, because there's been some buzz about the number of episodes. Originally, "Daredevil: Born Again" was supposed to be an 18-episode marathon. But according to recent reports, the first season will be a slightly shorter, but still action-packed, nine episodes. No worries, though because there's still plenty of time for Daredevil to take down some bad guys and maybe even win a case or two. Speaking of bad guys, we haven't gotten a glimpse of the official trailer yet. But some lucky folks saw a sneak peek at Disney's Upfronts presentation, and apparently, it's impressive! We're talking shots of Charlie Cox looking fierce in his Daredevil suit, and ready to throw hands! There's even a monologue where he throws some shade at the legal system, comparing it to the classic David vs. Goliath battle. Sounds like Matt Murdock hasn't lost his fighting spirit. Here's the thing: "Daredevil: Born Again" has had a bit of a bumpy road to production. Development started way back in 2022, but filming got put on hold thanks to some Hollywood drama (strikes by the Writers Guild and Screen Actors Guild). This led to some major changes in the show's plot. Originally, the rumor mill was buzzing about a more grounded story. We were hearing that this would a lawyer show where Matt Murdock wouldn't even suit up as Daredevil until later in the season. But based on the new trailer, it looks like they're going all in on the superhero side of things. And hey, who can blame them? We all love seeing Daredevil kick some butt! So, what's the story behind this whole Daredevil revival? Well, for those who might be new to the Marvel universe, here's a quick history lesson. Daredevil originally showed up on Netflix back in 2015. The show was a smash hit, praised for its gritty action and complex characters. But after three seasons, Netflix decided to cancel it (along with other Marvel shows like Jessica Jones and Luke Cage). Thankfully, Marvel Studios decided to bring Daredevil back for another round. And with Charlie Cox reprising his role as the Man Without Fear, "Daredevil: Born Again" is shaping up to be an epic comeback. Mark your calendars, Marvel fans – March 2025 is gonna be a good month for justice! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtY75WV_s1Y Read the full article

[popontomarnie]

We're heading towards the end and I get some pieces of information from there and there, I get less brain rotted about DFF day by day and don't really care about pheejin so much (still love Copper and protect Jin though, hearts), so now I see this story as a whole. And I don't like it.

I'm not a professional script writer and have only a few fanfics on ao3, so, I'm the least qualified person. But as I always say when it comes to hockey games, if even I noticed it, it must be an obvious thing.

When pre-release trailer just came out, I was crying, screaming, throwing up for about a month. I still re-watch it every one in a while, because it's a beautiful thing and I could write a story based on it only.

But we've got what we've got and I have some questions and thoughts.

First, the evil five or whatever people call them. Throughout the flashback we see Jin not really getting along with Por, Tee and Top, who are, I personally believe, the original trio. Fans proposed that Fluke became friends with them because they used him for school, and I am all for this explanation. But Jin? The question is not why he became friends with them but rather why they became friends with him? I can only suggest that Por brought Jin into the company because rich kids (people in general) like to be surrounded by rich kids (people).

Another question is why Por attends this school? Why doesn't he attend blue pants private school like White and Phee? When I first thought about it, I explained it to myself that maybe Por's father wants to be this down-to-earth politician whose kid goes to a state school, but I don't think his mother would just allow it.

Also, as surprising it was for all of us that Por called out Keng, it is pretty reasonable for a politician's teenager son to know about sa and power harassment. At least it makes sense to me. Maybe his father had some scandals at his workplace and talked about it at home, idk. Just saying.

Second, Non's family. His parents in particular. I do understands that their behavior might be realistic, some people can act the same in real life, but we're talking about characters, and characters' actions usually have a narrative. So we have two neglectful towards Non parents. They don't love him, because he's not as good and hard-wordking as New, he dares to ask for money or whatever. And when the video is leaked they're ashamed of their son sleeping with a man, but don't even think about their son being groomed (and they know about his mental state, they must realize his son is vulnerable). They don't care about their son until he disappears. And what should we expect from a characters like this? That they probably gonna believe that Non run away with Keng and pretend they only have one son. But suddenly their focus shifts to Non, and this twist frustrates me so much. The parents are just plot tools, not characters, and it makes the audience even more fierce, but once you start analyzing?

I'm not sure about New's character, because for me there are some contradictions in him too. First of all, New, how the fuck could you not know about your mother's state? Okay, they didn't tell you bc they thought you were in England, but why didn't you send Phee to check on them or something?

Okay, this is the question I have for him as a person (who calls her mom every day) to another person. But to think about it in a context of a character? New just doesn't care so much? See, he get obsessed easily, first with his education, then with his revenge. And, yeah, as other people have already pointed, New does it all for himself, not for Non.

The problem that I have with DFF is that once you reach ship wars/wars with jin haters post clarity you come to realize how messy this story is. Hear me out.

I think there're too many characters. Yes. It could be Top who took and leaked the video. Why you make Jin do it if then you give no explanation of his actions (in the show, not by the actor) or don't even show some shift of his attitude towards Non if he's disappointed? Make him a jealous bully! Make him the reason Non loses it completely when the last person who's been nice to him becomes mean too. Or if Jin doesn't become the absolute antagonist, why don't you make at least one scene when Jin realizes he's fucked up? And if he's a manipulator as many believe, show his manipulative side! And if it's revealed he was not the one to leak the video, there will be even more questions. Again, I love Jin, I see so much potential for him, but at this point I think that Jin girlies developed his character much better that the writers.

I think it was possible to split Jin's character into two: Top and Fluke. Top takes the video. Fluke makes Non stay in the project as a fellow bullying victim.

And Phee's new love interest? Oh god, this boy could've lost his focus with anyone or anything. Send him into a university party life and he will forget Non just fine. Or make him fall in love with Tee, imagine how spicy it would be.

Anyway, my point and position when it comes to books, movies, shows is that if you don't/can't develop a character/plot line properly, don't do it at all. And this is exactly what happened with Jin; he's definitely not a secondary character like Top and Por (i mean their screen time and depth), but not main like Non, Tee, Phee or New either. He's stuck in this limbo, hated by almost everyone (and oh how funny it is that Copper started getting hate too, I though DFF fans were anti-bullying). Again, I love Jin, and I think about him just as I always think about things I love: you do it well or you don't corrupt it with your ass work at all (and BOC is usually guilty of this but don't let me start).

To conclude:

If I were given this idea, set of characters and asked to write a script (12 ep) I would go for an already proven method and make one episode per character from their perspective (other three for murder in the woods). Start with Top and Por' pov, then go to Fluke, then Phee, then Jin, then New, then Tee and White (not sure if Non's pov is better in the beginning or the end). Give each character a backstory, even Top who is literally just a guy (derogatory), show through his pov how the original five became friends and how stupid and evil teenagers can be.

P.S. My main suspicion is that writers created (poorly) some characters so BOC could establish their young actors, which, to put it respectfully, was a bad idea. What do you get in the end? Ship wars, actors being bullied, disappointment by both fans who want a revenge horror and fans who want a gray characters' story.

I hope I will be proven wrong and have to put on my clown wig again this week, but you should've seen me in January and see me now, the disappointment vibes are killing everything around me.

P.S.S. If White turns out to be Non but after surgery, my facepalm is gonna be so strong I'll have to go under face surgery myself. Non's face to White's face? He'd have to break his jaw and would not be able to move it for months, not saying that he'd probably have to wear braces!

[kaittalkstoomuch]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN IS LIVE! So sorry for the delay!

Chapter Fifteen: The Edge of Seventeen

TW: mentions of abandonment. Roxie witnessed her and Dustin’s dad leaving at a young age. Trauma. Angst.

The late afternoon to evening of March 22, 1986

I open the front door of my house being greeted by the news. It was coverage of Chrissy and Fred, no leads just yet. However, flashes of Eddie’s trailer don’t help. My anxiety peaks as my mother steps into my vision. “Hi darling, are you alright? How about Dustin?” I blink a few times trying to act normal. “He’s okay. He’s at Lucas’…” I begin to trail off as my eyes get stuck on the tributes for the Queen of Hawkins High and Fred flash on my living room TV.

“How was your night with Eddie? Any big plans for tomorrow night?” My face begins to feel cold as “ROXANNE” chimes and echoes through my head. I feel someone grab my hand. “Roxie, baby, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mom mimics Robin’s statement earlier. “You feel chilly. Honey, are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yeah… yeah. I’m alright.” I say crossing my arms around my body, playing with my rings in my fingers. “It was fun last night. He made me my own Hellfire Club shirt.” “Oh that’s sweet. He’s such a sweet boy and fits you perfectly. I love seeing you happy.” I smile at her sentiment. “I haven’t seen you smile this much since.. before….” She begins to trail off a bit as I put my stuff down. “Mom.” I rub her arm calmly. “I’m so sorry honey. I just…. It’s amazing to see you smiling again. It’s beautiful.” I smile. “I get it from you.” I smile at her and she smiles back.i give her a hug and she hugs me back.

As we embrace, I eye an white envelope with “Roxie Gracie”, my stomach immediately drops. I begin to feel the walls spin. “Was he here earlier?” I squeak. “No, he mailed it. I didn’t open it.” I roll my eyes and groan, throwing my hands up. “Why can’t he leave us alone? I mean, he left us…” I can feel the tears start to form. “Like, what the fuck does he want? Is it another stupid birthday card to his little ‘Roxie Gracie’? God I’m almost eighteen. I have a month left.”

I start growing more angry while the same news blares on the tv. “Rox, I know what happened still hurts you, but he’s still your father.” “Not since he left us mom. He couldn’t handle raising two fucking kids. He is such a coward. A grown man would’ve stayed. Walter is a fucking coward.” I share as the lights flicker a bit. “ROXANNE” roams again and the voice, though distorted, becomes clearer who it was. The coward.”

I shake it off. “I just can’t forgive him, mom. Not after he left, without saying goodbye. Not one care for us. No silly birthday card is going to change that.” “Roxie….” “Mom…” She hugs me tightly. And flashes of the night he left come rapidly. The scared ten year old girl. The careless cowardice man. “Daddy, please don’t go. Please.” He looks at me as if he didn’t hear me. “Daddy, please.” He’d bend down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m doing this because I love you, Roxie Gracie.” He’d pick us his suitcase and then leave without saying a word.

Now, about to turn eighteen in a month, I growl at the memory. “It’s been almost eight years and I vowed to myself I would protect you and Dustin, something Dad couldn’t think of doing… I have to protect you guys… and Eddie…. Oh Eddie.” I feel chills thinking of my metal head. Thinking about what true happiness was. Being with him.

“You’re thinking of Eddie right now, aren’t you?” I nod trying to keep my worry in. “Yeah… I’m extremely worried about him.” “How so?” I look at her confused. “Have you been watching the news?” “I have, but I don’t believe Eddie is a killer. Some crook probably did it.” “Yeah, some crook named Vecna.” I think to myself.

“Thank you, mom.” I start, feeling uneasy but maybe it's nothing. “For what?” I hugged her again. “For understanding who Eddie truly is.” “Well, of course baby. That’s what mothers do. I even folded some clothes for you. They’re on your bed. Go pack some more and spend time with Eds.” She sounds a little too persuasive. “Thank you, mom.” I squeeze her tight. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She kisses my head and looks at me. “My beautiful ‘Roxie Gracie’.”

I stand up and grab my bag slowly as that runs through my head. Fear courses through my veins. “What did you just call me?” I look at her stunned with as much distance as I can. “My beautiful ‘Roxanne Grace’. Roxie, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Her face begins to morph in between Walter’s and hers as my fear grows more. “Yeah… I’m okay…” I go further into the hallway and enter my room, sliding my door shut. I smile lightly looking at the clothes, but also terrified of the imagery I keep seeing of Walter.

Why do I keep seeing him in everyone I see? Why now? Is it because of the lingering thoughts of him leaving? Wait, it’s been eight years since he left. That’s gotta be it. I dig for the walkie in my bag and call out for someone who could understand. “Nance, do you copy? It’s Roxie… I need your help.” I pleaded with her quietly, but there was no response. “Figures.” I scoff while I look at my clothes.

I see old scrapbooks of old photos I took in the past. Ones with Robin, the kids, Steve being a fucking idiot, the Hellfire Club and Nancy. I laugh at how ridiculous our Elf costumes were for our brothers. I spy Barb, looking ever so radiant. “I’m so sorry, Barb.” I say running my fingers along the Polaroid, when I hear the lock of my door activate. “MOM?” I panic as the atmosphere grows dark. I clutch the walkie as I go up to the door and begin to try to pry it open. “MOM!” I bang on it. “Why did you lock me in?” “I’m only protecting you, much like you’re protecting me!” “EDDIE DIDN’T MURDER ANYONE!” I yell. “Sorry, darling. I can’t let you out.” The atmosphere grows darker as I bang on it and continue my efforts. Her sweet, nurturing voice was replaced by a dark, ominous one. “Nancy….” I squeak quietly….. “Help…..”

[munson-blurbs]

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 2

Part One

Summary: Five weeks after receiving unexpected news, you still haven't spoken to any of your friends. A talk with Wayne helps you make a decision, while Steve struggles with his own guilt and the possibility that Vecna isn't quite done with him yet.

Warnings: language, S4 is canon, pregnancy

WC: 4.8k

Taglist: @kaybee87 @sidthedollface2 @chelebelletx @livsters @atombombbibunny @tattooedkiss13 @manda-panda-monium @charming-winchester @corroded-hellfire @trashmouth-richie @sweet-villain @slightlyvicked @hxllfired @yogizzz @tlclick73 @thefreakofhawkins86 @sheisjoeschateau @harrypotteranna23-blog @harringr0ve

Divider credits to @firefly-graphics

You wake up to sunlight streaming through your kitchen window, giving a groan as you wipe the sleep from your eyes and sit up; an action that is becoming more difficult with your growing bump. The TV screen is blue, and likely has been for awhile. You’ve fallen asleep watching a movie, again. At this rate, you’ll never finish St. Elmo’s Fire until after the baby comes, and then you’ll be too busy raising a kid by yourself.

As you pop the VHS out of the player, your body feels like it’s been drained of all warmth. Your plan was to watch the movie last night and return it to Family Video immediately. Some random high school kid worked there on Saturday nights, which meant you could sneak in and out without your friends getting a glimpse of your belly.

But now it’s Sunday morning. And Steve Harrington works on Sunday mornings.

Maybe I can just toss it through the doors like a Frisbee, you think wryly. In theory, you could just return it tomorrow and pay the late fee, but you can’t afford to waste money now. You bury your head in your hands with an exasperated groan. You throw on the oversized sweatshirt that best conceals the bump, though you look completely ridiculous in the mid-July heat. Your keys practically slip through your fingers, sweaty from your own body heat and nerves. 

There’s only one other person who knows your secret besides the nurse and your parents, and you find yourself driving to his place before you even realize where you’re going. 

Rapping on the door lightly in case he’s still asleep, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’re holding. Guilt gnaws at your insides; here you are, bothering someone with your own problems for the umpteenth time. 

“Hey there, darlin’.” Wayne greets you with a tired smile. “You got any more of those pictures for me?” The man, usually so stoic, was elated any time you brought new grainy ultrasound photos. 

You shake your head. “Not today, but I have an appointment in a few days.” Given the high-stress situation, your doctor had you coming in more often than the traditional expectant mother. “‘M sorry if I woke you up.”

Wayne holds the door open for you and you step inside the trailer. Each visit, it smells less and less like Eddie’s signature scent of musky cologne, stale cigarettes, and weed. “You’re never a bother. Always cheers me up to see you and my little grandbaby.” 

The first time you met Wayne, a few months into your relationship with Eddie, you were so nervous. This was the man who raised him, who took him in when no one else would, and you desperately wanted to make a good impression. You had a similar feeling now, looking anxiously at the ground while you tried to formulate a sentence.

“Could I ask you for a favor?” You’re picking at your fingernails, unable to look him in the eyes. 

“‘Course,” Wayne says softly. “What do you need?”

You hold out the VHS. “D’you think you could return this to Family Video for me today?” Your hand trembles, and considering your wrist is fully healed, it has to be due to your own anxiety. Tears prickle at your eyes. 

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne sighs, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him. “You still haven’t talked to your friends?” You can only manage another head shake as the teardrops fall. He pulls you in for a side hug. “You know they won’t judge you. They’ll still love you, and they will certainly love that baby.”

“That’s the thing,” you manage through heaving sobs. “I know they’ll be here for me, for us,” you amend, placing a hand on your belly, “but that’s not what I want. I don’t want to keep being everyone’s pathetic pity case.” You feel Wayne’s grizzled hand rubbing your back gently, and you start to calm down. “I don’t want to be a burden to people.”

Wayne pauses for a moment before speaking. “Did I ever tell you about the time Eddie and I had to go on food stamps?” he says finally.

You scrunch up your face. “I don’t think so.”

“It was a couple months after I got custody, and as my shit luck would have it, I lost my job. Thought we could just push through, but then I woke up one morning with no money in the bank and just a bottle of mustard in the fridge. If it was just me, I would’ve dealt with it. But now I got a ten-year-old kid; a growing boy. He’s gotta eat.

“So I bite the bullet and sign up for food stamps. I’d always promised I’d never rely on anyone else, especially the government, but there I am at the grocery store, week after week, with that booklet in hand.” 

A hint of a grin appears on his stubbled face. “I tried to hide it from Eddie, but you know how he is; can never mind his own business.” It’s not lost on you that he’s referring to his nephew in the present tense, like he’s still here. “And one day he catches me paying with stamps instead of cash, an’ he goes, ‘what’s that?’  I’m tellin’ him that I’ll explain later, but he pulls my arm down, looks, and says, ‘oh, it’s just food stamps.’ Real casual, no big deal. Meanwhile, I’m humiliated, thinkin’ I’m less of a man for not being able to provide.”

“But that’s not true,” you interject. “You did what you had to do to take care of him.”

“‘S not how I felt, though,” he counters, and you nod. “We get in my truck and I finally say to him, ‘I’m sorry we gotta use food stamps. ‘S only till I find work again.’ An’ you know what this kid says to me?”

“Mm-mm.”

“He goes, ‘Better than mustard for breakfast.’” You and Wayne both laugh at that, and soon you’re crying again, but now it’s from laughing too hard. 

“That is a classic ‘Eddie’ moment,” you giggle, wiping the tears from your cheeks. 

Wayne scratches his whiskers. “Yeah, that memory always cheers me up. But that’s not why I told you.” You give him a puzzled look, and he continues. “Sometimes, we have to let people in, even if we wanna push them away. Because nine times outta ten, that fear is all in our head, and they aren’t bothered by our weaknesses at all.” His eyes are misty as he reaches for your hand. “It can be embarrassing and scary as hell to admit you need help. But trust me’,” he says, “it’s better than mustard for breakfast.”

You exhale, still feeling ambivalent about confronting Steve, but slightly less on-edge. “Thank you, Wayne,” you whisper. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re the best?”

“Jus’ you, darlin’,” he replies with a grin. “And if you and that baby of yours ever need anything else, you don’t hesitate to knock on this door.”

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door to Family Video. The bell on the door alerts Robin that there’s a customer, and she puts her book down and looks over. As soon as she sees who it is, her entire face lights up. “Y/N! You’re alive!” she cries out, nearly leaping over the counter and sprinting to you. “We were so worried!” She stops just short of you. “Wait, are you sick?”

Your brows pinch together in confusion. “No? Why?”

She points to your attire. “You’re wearing a sweatshirt and it’s, like, 90 degrees outside,” she says simply.

“Oh, yeah, no,” you rush, “it’s just, um, cold in the air conditioning?” But it comes out as more than a question, and Robin picks up on it right away.

“What’s going on?” She crosses her arms over her chest suspiciously, but quickly lets them drop. “Look, I know we didn’t know each other long before…everything…but you know you can tell me anything.”

You look around cautiously before slowly lifting your outer layer up over the gentle curve of your belly. Your shirt still covers your skin, but the bump is still prominent enough beneath it to warrant a gasp from your new friend.

“Oh, my God,” she murmurs, still unbelieving. 

“D’you wanna feel it?” you ask shyly. It’s a bit of a relief, actually; having someone else know your secret. It makes everything slightly less scary. 

Robin brings a hand to your stomach, smiling as she lightly touches it. “Oh, my God,” she repeats, blinking away tears. “Does Steve know?”

Your face blanches and you instinctively pull away. “It’s not his.” Your tone is snappy, and you feel bad as soon as you hear it. “‘M sorry, I just…”

“No, no,” Robin shakes her head. “I didn’t mean it like…” Her eyes widen when she realizes. “It’s Eddie’s.”

“Yeah,” you say, voice choked with emotion. “Yeah, it is.” You clear your throat. “And to answer your question, no; I haven’t told Steve.”

Robin bites her lower lip in contemplation. “Are you going to?” She glances towards the breakroom. “Because he’ll be coming out here in, like, five minutes.”

After your conversation with Wayne, you thought you were ready to explain everything to Steve, but now that the moment arrived, you’re suddenly unsure. “I don’t…I don’t think so.” You let your gaze drop to the tiled floor and place St. Elmo’s Fire on the counter. “I’m just gonna return this and go.” You head for the door before stopping to turn back to Robin. “Please don’t say anything to him. I’m not ready yet.”

She nods, miming zipping her lips and throwing away the key. “He won’t be mad, you know,” she tells you. “If anything, he’ll just fall even more in love with you.” She claps a palm over her mouth. “You didn’t hear that.”

But it’s too late–your head is spinning with the news. “Steve’s in love with me?” you gawp. “No, he’s in love with Nancy.”

“Was in love with Nancy, until…” she hears the breakroom doorknob rattling and shoots you a warning glance. “Incoming–I’ll explain another time.”

You exit as fast as you can, grateful you haven’t developed the infamous pregnancy waddle yet, and get into your car just as Steve walks back into the storeroom. 

“Did I just hear–” Steve questions, scanning the room. “Never mind.” He gives a little stretch and yawns. “My dreams are so realistic now; I can’t even tell what’s actually happening and what’s not.”

Robin rests her elbows on the counter, pressing her lips together like she’s physically trying to conceal your secret. “Anything good? Or just the usual nightmares?”

“What do you think?” Steve mumbles. “D’you still have them?”

“Sometimes,” Robin admits. “Not as much as in the beginning.” She twirls a piece of thread from her vest around her finger absentmindedly. “For me, it’s those damn vines. I feel them winding around my body, and I’m writhing underneath them, but when I finally break free, it…it’s too late for you and Nancy.”

Steve pauses. “Do you ever see him? Vecna, I mean? Is he there?”

“No, oddly enough. Maybe he’ll show up in future installments of ‘Recounts of Robin’s Traumatic Experiences.’” She laughs half-heartedly at her joke. “What about you?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “I see him. Hear the chimes, too.” The dream he just had in the breakroom was one of the most terrifying ones yet. 

He’s back in the gym at Hawkins High, shooting three-pointers, when a familiar voice calls out. 

“Hey, Steve.”

“Eddie!” Steve’s grin is so wide, it practically splits his face open. “We thought we lost you forever!”

“You know you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Eddie says, giving his signature smirk. “How’s life treatin’ you?”

Steve sighs. “Not great, dude. The town’s a mess, I have the worst dreams—“

“And you’re in love with Y/N,” Eddie cuts him off, his smile melting into a more sadistic expression. “You, Steve Harrington, want to get with my girlfriend. You selfish fucking prick.” His voice deepens, becomes sinister. “You could get any girl in this town, but you want what you can’t have; is that it?”

“N-No,” Steve stammers. “That’s not it at all.”

“I bet you wanted me to die, just so you could take her from me. That’s why you told me not to be a hero, isn’t it?” The voice coming from Eddie’s body doesn’t even resemble his anymore. “You knew if you said that, I’d take it as a challenge. Put my life at risk.” Thick, ugly vines snake around Eddie’s limbs. “Did you get everything you wanted, Steve?”

“I didn’t want you to die! I wasn’t trying to steal your girlfriend, Eddie! I swear!” 

And then Steve hears them: the demobats. They start off squawking faintly from a distance, but they get louder. No matter how fast Steve sprints, he can never outrun them. 

He shakes the memory away, tousling his hair in the process. “Sometimes, I worry that they’re not dreams,” he says softly. “Max told me that Vecna uses your biggest fears, your insecurities, and uses them to draw you in. And that’s how it is in every single nightmare I have.”

“Is it the Eddie thing?” Robin asks, her voice gentle. She knows when to poke fun at her friend, and when he needs to be taken seriously. When Steve is quiet, she gingerly places her hand on his forearm. “Steve, in these dreams, what is Vecna telling you?”

He gnaws on his lips, trying to suppress the tears that will inevitably fall. “That…that it’s my fault Eddie’s dead. That I wanted him to die so I could be with Y/N.”

“But that’s a lie. You know that’s a lie,” Robin reassures him, but it does little good. “We wanted to save everyone, including Eddie. Even if you wanted to be with Y/N then, you wouldn’t have Eddie killed over it.”

“I know; logically, I know that. But Vecna’s so convincing. He has me questioning everything.” Steve grabs a handful of Laffy Taffy from the candy counter, unwrapping a strawberry one and popping it in his mouth whole.

Robin snorts at the sight of him struggling to chew on the candy. “You know you can just, like, bite into it like a normal person?”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve smiles at her genuinely–it feels so good to smile–until his face suddenly contorts in pain. “Son of a bitch!” He reaches into his mouth and pulls the chewed pink blob out, now with a shiny silver addition to it. “My filling! Dammit!”

“Guess I’m taking your shift tomorrow while you go to the dentist?” Robin says with a roll of her eyes. “What were you saying about that being fun?”

Steve takes the hand that he isn’t using to massage his jaw and flips off his friend. “Actually, yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

Walking into Hawkins Dental, Steve is hard to miss with the bag of frozen broccoli pressed to his cheek. You’re glad you’re sitting down, because the desk hides your belly. You’re one of two receptionists at the office, and neither the dentist nor the hygienists have noticed your bump yet. For all they know, it could just be run-of-the-mill weight gain.

The bag falls from Steve’s grip when he sees it’s you behind the counter. “Y/N,” he breathes, “wh-what are you doing here?” He shakes his head. “Okay, that was a dumb question. I just meant…I miss you. Miss, um, hanging out with you.” He picks the veggies up from the floor and puts it back to his face. For a moment, when he saw you, the pain just seemed to fade away.

You nod, trying your best not to rest your hand on your stomach. It’s a newfound habit that you find yourself doing any time you get anxious; like your first instinct is to protect your baby before anything else. “You’re here to get your filling replaced?” you ask matter-of-factly, trying to keep an even tone. You shuffle around in your chair for the intake forms and hand him a clipboard. “Fill these out and bring them back here. Dr. Scrivello will be with you shortly.”

A few moments later, Steve’s back with his completed paperwork. You can hear Dr. Scrivello finishing up with his current patient, but he’s not done fast enough to prevent you having a conversation with Steve.

“How have you been?” he murmurs, scratching nervously at the granite counter. “It’s been…”

“Almost six weeks,” you answer too quickly, and your face flushes.

Steve doesn’t seem to be fazed by your quick calculation. “Too long. Especially for people who were sharing a bed.”

“How did you manage to pull out a filling?” you change the subject. “Another casualty of a Family Video candy section?”

“The Laffy Taffy got me this time.” He gives a small chuckle before wincing. “Can’t laugh; hurts too much.”

You point to the bag in his hand. “Looks like it’s your turn to use frozen vegetables to nurse your wounds.”

“Oh, shit, yeah!” Steve raises his brows. “How’s your wrist? You’re not wearing the sling anymore.”

“Doctor said I only needed it for four weeks. Just have to be careful with it.” A confession is on the tip of your tongue. You want nothing more than to spill everything and to be pulled into a Steve hug. He just makes you feel safe and warm; you haven’t felt this way since…since Eddie.

“Steven Harrington?” Dr. Scrivello calls out, and both of you look over at him. “You can come on back.” He waves him over and pushes his thick black glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Wish me luck,” Steve mumbles.

“Good luck, Steven,” you tease. But it’s you who will need luck. You just don’t know it yet.

Steve walks out of the room only twenty minutes later. The cavity wasn’t deep, so the dentist didn’t even need to use novocaine to fill it. You weren’t expecting him to be done so soon, and you’re reaching up to pull another file from the shelf. Your scrubs are riding up slightly, exposing your stomach.

“Am I good to–whoa.” Steve’s eyes are immediately drawn to your bump. “Y/N, are you–” He stops mid sentence, remembering something his mom once said about never asking a woman if she’s pregnant.

You’re flooded with a mix of emotions, primarily fear and embarrassment. Though you didn’t exactly have a plan to tell Steve your news, it certainly wasn’t like this. “I wanted to…” you start, but you can’t even manage to finish your own lie. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s brows pinch together. “Sorry? Why?”

“Can you come back at noon?” You glance at your watch; it’s 10:30 AM now. “That’s when I take my lunch break.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he says, unsure whether to make eye contact. “Do I have a copay?”

“Huh? Oh, no, you’re good.” You shove your hands in your pants pockets to keep Steve from seeing them trembling. “I’ll, um, see you later?”

“Yeah, later.” He can barely choke out the two words, shuffling through the door back to his car. 

You slump back into your chair. You’ve got an hour and a half, a full ninety minutes, to come up with a way to explain everything to Steve. Sure, the whole pregnancy announcement was out of the way, but now you have to tell him why you’ve been ignoring him. And the whole him being in love with you remark from Robin won’t stop replaying in your head.

The electronic hum of the bell buzzes at exactly twelve o’clock. You look up to see Steve walking through the door, carrying a giant brown bag with the Bradley’s Big Buys logo stamped on the side.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod and place the “out to lunch” placard on the counter.

“Got yourself anything good?” You motion to the bag in his hand as the two of you walk outside. “More frozen produce for either of our various ailments?”

Steve cracks a smile; it doesn’t hurt as badly as it did this morning. “Nah, just got you a little something.” He holds it open for you to peer in. There are five jars inside, each a different type of pickle. “I heard that craving pickles is, like, super common for pregnant people,” he explains, blushing. “But I wasn’t sure what kind, so I just kinda…got them all.”

You can’t lie; a crisp, juicy pickle sounds like heaven right about now, but there’s a sinking feeling attached to the craving. “You didn’t have to do this,” you whisper.

He runs a hand through his hair, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips. “I knew I should’ve gone with ice cream, but I was afraid it would all melt.”

“No, no; ‘s not that.” Your lip quivers as you talk, finally ready to be honest. “Steve, the reason I didn’t tell you about this is because I didn’t want you to feel even more obligated to take care of me.”

You can’t miss the flustered look on his face. “Obligated? I never felt obligated to take care of you.” He places his hand over yours. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“Wasn’t anything you said or did,” you rush to explain, “‘s just hard for me to accept help from people. Makes me feel useless. Like I can’t take care of myself.”

Steve’s heart shatters at your admission. “No, God, no. I never felt that way—I never…that’s not why I stuck around.” He looks around, noticing the people passing by. “Wanna continue this in the car?” You nod and follow him to the BMW, sliding into the passenger seat. In a few more months, that might not be so easy. 

“When Eddie and I went for that walk in the woods, in the Upside Down, he asked me to take care of you if he…if he couldn’t,” Steve begins. 

“So you did this for Eddie?” Now it makes sense; there was an obligation to uphold a promise to his late friend. 

“That’s how it started, yeah. But then we started spending more time together, and I realized that…this might sound weird, but I felt peaceful with you. In a way I’ve never felt before.”

Your nose crinkles. “There are a lot of words I would use to describe the last few months, and ‘peaceful’ definitely isn’t one of them.”

“Exactly!” Steve’s burst of enthusiasm startles you. “Sorry. But that’s what’s so strange about it. Like, I should be tense all the time, and I mostly am, but being around you made me feel like things could maybe be, I dunno, normal again. Whatever that means,” he adds with a wave of his hand. 

“And I think part of it was selfish, too,” he continues. “It felt nice to be needed, instead of the one always asking for help.”

“That’s how I’ve been feeling,” you tell him, unwrapping your peanut butter sandwich and digging in. “I didn’t want to be a burden, a charity case.” 

“You’re not. I don’t see you that way; none of us do.” You assume he’s talking about Robin and the rest of the party. “For better or for worse, you’re our friend now. And friends take care of each other.” He leans down and takes a bite of your sandwich. “See? I’m hungry, and you helped me!”

You swat at him playfully. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to mess with a pregnant lady’s food? You could be taking away vital nutrients from the baby!”

Steve swallows his stolen piece of sandwich. “Speaking of which, how long have you known?”

You knew that your turn was coming, but it didn’t make things any easier. “Since I went to the hospital for my wrist. They ran a pregnancy test before they could do an x-ray, and—surprise.” You cup your small bump lovingly. 

“Is that why you asked me to leave and stopped talking to me?”

“Yeah. I felt bad enough having you take care of me. And I know you, Steve Harrington; you would’ve insisted on taking care of this kid, too.”

“Damn right I would’ve!” Steve smacks the gearshift for emphasis. “And I would’ve done it happily.” He looks at you with his big brown eyes. “I still will, if you’re okay with it.”

You drop your gaze as though you’ve developed a sudden interest in the car upholstery. It’s better than mustard for breakfast, you remind yourself. Let people help you if you need it—and you NEED it now more than ever. 

“I have a doctor’s appointment next Tuesday; just a check-up to make sure Little Bean is nice and healthy,” you say slowly. Every instinct is urging you to shut up and handle it alone, but you push them away. “My mom usually comes with me, but she can’t take off from work this time.”

Steve smiles knowingly. “I can take you. I have off on Tuesdays, so it’s perfect.”

“Thank you.” Relief flows through your body like a river, calm after a storm. You glance over at the Bradley’s bag tucked under the glove compartment. “This calls for a celebration. Put on some music, yeah?”

Steve starts the car and flips through the radio stations until the sound of Led Zeppelin pumps through the speakers. 

“Ooh, I love Black Dog!” you squeal, opening a jar of Kosher Dills and fishing one out, tapping it against the rim to avoid dripping pickle juice on yourself. You hold the jar out to Steve. “Want one?”

“Pickles with a peanut butter sandwich?” he grimaces. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, crunching into the snack and singing along to the radio. 

Eyes that shine, burnin' red 

Dreams of you all through my head 

Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ahhh

The sound of you singing, so carefree, fills Steve with a warmth that he hasn’t experienced since before that wretched spring break. He wants to capture the joy, both yours and his, and hold onto it forever. “You know what always annoyed me about this song?” Steve pauses before relenting and biting into a pickle. “They never even say the words ‘black dog.’” 

You bark out a laugh. “You should write to Jimmy Page and let him know. File a formal complaint.”

“Maybe I will!” Steve shoots you a kind smile. “You know, Y/N; you’re not alone. We’re all scared, trying to figure out how the hell to deal with what we went through.” He gives a sarcastic chuckle. “There’s no handbook on coping with interdimensional trauma.”

“If you find one with a chapter on being a single mom because your child’s father died in said alternate dimension, let me know,” you quip wryly.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Steve squeezes your hand. “I just know,” he tells you, a tear sliding down his cheek, “I just know Eddie would’ve been so happy to be a dad.”

You look up at him with wide, shiny eyes. “You think so?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he affirms. “He wanted the whole shebang with you–marriage, house in the suburbs, kids.” He wipes his eyes. “Eddie really fuckin’ loved you.”

You take in the information, bittersweet emotions swirling through you. You still love Eddie, love him so much it makes you physically ache, but there’s deep-rooted anger. And then the guilt of being angry at a dead man; a dead man whose baby you were carrying. It was all too much.

Twisting the lid back on the pickle jar, you clear your throat and reach for the car door. “Thank you again, Steve. For everything.” You lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a great friend.”

Steve nods; the word friend is both comforting and unsettling. “Any time,” he manages. Anything for you. Anything you ever need, I’ll drop everything and come to you. No questions asked.

Tension resolved between you and him, Steve tucks himself into bed that night with a hope that he’ll have sweet dreams. He should know better by now.

It’s one of the usual nightmares, where Steve is calling out for his friends in the Upside Down, but no one is around. He’s alone, terrified, with no one to save him.

And then he hears the grandfather clock, so loud the world seems to vibrate. Clang, clang, clang, clang. But there’s something different this time. 

Steve’s blood runs cold at the sound of a fifth chime.

 –

[themultifandomgal]

Sweet Pea- My Man

I walk into the Whyte Wyrm tired after a long day at school, tightening my boyfriend Serpent jacket around me. I stole it earlier in the day when I hadn't really dressed for winter weather. On entrance I see Toni and Fangs chatting to a girl I had never seen before, Pea over by the bar. I instantly make my way towards Pea, noticing how many of the younger Serpents are watching me. When I reach the bar anyone stood around moves out of the way for me

"Who's she? why are they acting like she's goddamn royalty?" I hear the new girl ask with distaste in her voice. I chuckle to myself as I stand next to my giant of a boyfriend

"That's YNN (your nickname) Jones"

"Who?" the new girl replies to Toni

"Don't you love it when there are new initiates?" Pea says handing me a drink

"It's my absolute favourite thing in the world" I say with sarcasm laced in my voice I turn around to look at the girl giving her a glare

"So you gonna tell me why you came in here acting all high and mighty?"

"Oh no" Fangs' eyes widen "I'd shut up if I were you"

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that ok. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and I would appreciate it if your attitude changed ok?" I give the girl a sickly sweet smile, turn around and head to the toilets.

When I return everyone is over at the pool table. The new girl playing on the fact she can't play pool, she keep touching Pea on the arm, which he shrugs off many times, but she just won't quit. I walk over to my friends and get in between Pea and the girl hearing her scoff at me. I roll my eyes at her then look at Pea

"Hey handsome"

"Hey baby" Pea smiles at me then leans down for a kiss. The girl taps my shoulder

"Excuse me your in the way" I look at Fangs and Toni shocked

"Does this bitch not know who I am yet?" Toni shakes her head

"Who the hell do you think your calling a bitch"

"I'm sorry I didn't get your name?"

"Mia"

"Ok well Mia. You see, my dad is kinda the Serpent King, my brother and I are kinda going to take over one day. So I suggest you shut the fuck up and stop flirting my my man ok?” Mia scoffs at me

“You? he’s dating you? no way are you FPs kid. Your mom probably slept with someone else and panicked” Mia laughs “I mean look at you. Your not intimidating in the slightest”

“Oh no” Fangs says

“Leave” I say calmly

“No. Why should I?”

“I said leave”

“Make me” Mia gets in my face. I back up a little and take my.. Sweet Peas, jacket off

“Ok, but you asked for it” I give Sweet Pea his jacket then grab Mia by her hair literally dragging her out of the bar.

When outside I throw her to the floor

“What the hell?” she screams at me

“You should know the laws. Laws 5 and 6, a Serpent never betrays his own and in unity, there is strength. You wanted to be a Serpent? you should have respect me as soon as I walked over. As soon as I told you Pea was taken you should have respected us both. That would have gone for anyone with a jacket. You are no Serpent now go before I do more than pull a little hair and throw you to the floor” I turn back around and walk to the door. On entering I walk over to the bar for another drink when a tall presence walks up next to me. Pea leans over and whispers in my ear

“Your sexy as hell when jealous and pissed. Turns me on” I smirk while taking my drink from Hog Eye. I face my boyfriend and lean up to kiss his lips

“You wanna go back to your trailer and show me how turned on you are?”

“Definitely” I down my drink and Pea takes my hand in his his “see you tomorrow” he calls out to Fangs and Toni

“Have fun” Fangs laughs

“And remember, don’t be silly wrap your…”

“We got it T” I yell laughing while running out to Pea’s bike.

[wrenreid]

Just Acting

(had to use this gif)

18+ content in this story | all chapter in masterlist

Chapter Five

Another week, another episode to film. Today, Monday, is the start of Criminal Minds season 16 episode 9.

This week, you won't be filming a lot. Your first scene is of Delilah and Spencer then you have a another one at her work place.

You're up bright and early for the first scene of the day. The sun has just rose, so the orange and pink glow of the sky still shines above the city of Los Angeles. Fall is approaching and it's beginning to be colder in the mornings and evenings.

You throw on a lightweight cream sweater, some black ripped jeans, and you pull on white slip on sneakers. After tying your hair into a low pony, you rush out the door.

The ride to set isn't too horrible, obviously traffic is bad but that's normal. But it happens to be slightly earlier than when most people leave for work. It's just now 7am. Many cars are on the streets, and you know more will pile up by 8am.

You arrive on set around 7:45, and grab a cup of coffee before heading to hair and makeup. The fun lady with pink hair brushes out your brown locks while straightening the waves down. She makes conversation like she does everyday. It's nice how she loves to talk, because you like to listen. She does you females' hair along with Jamar, and Hannah does the boys hair and sometimes Izzy does too.

Kylie finishes up with your hair by adding gel to smooth down the pieces tucked behind your hair. It's a sleek look that really fits with your short hair.

Next step of the morphing into Delilah is makeup. Ronnie starts on your eyes with a natural brown, nude, and cream blend. He does your foundation, blush, highlighter, and bronzer before topping it off with eyeliner and mascara. He gives you a few spritzes of setting spray, and you're good to go.

You say goodbye to Kylie and Ronnie with a smile and head to wardrobe. Matthew heads to hair and makeup just after you leave. The wardrobe crew has picked out a work style suit for you to wear today. The pants are black, matching the blazer and black heels, and to add a pop of color, the blouse underneath is light blue. It really brings out your baby blue eyes.

After changing in your trailer, you finishes the rest of your coffee and head to the main part of the studio. The director talks to you for a moment before Matthew shows up. He has you mark the scenes and rehearse just a bit before starting to film.

Matthew is dressed in slim fitting dark dress pants, a light grey button up, a red tie, and a dark sweater unbuttoned over it.

They smooth down your hair again and apply some nude lipstick to your lips before the camera starts rolling.

The camera begins rolling at the cue of the director and we snap into character.

Delilah walks into the business. With her dad being gone, she now has to run this building as well before she can find a replacement. She left her building in Atlanta under the watch of the manager, which is just one aspect that contributes to her stress.

Her dad's former employees, now hers, watch as she strides to her new office. Seeing pictures of her dead father's accomplishments and pictures of her younger self stings at her chest. She sits down and begins working immediately. Delilah has so much to do.

She types away at the computer, answering emails and discussing a deal with a big business man from Washington DC. The deal should bring both businesses more money, but she isn't too sure. Her father only had one meeting with this man before his murder. Delilah plans another meeting with Mr Daker before she can decide to close the deal.

Her head begins to hurt as a flashback sneaks up on her mind. Delilah remembers the day she was kidnapped.

A man who her father had fired and got put in jail had finally gotten his revenge, using Delilah as bait. She wasn't only bait though, she was used as entertainment. He hit her and degraded her while waiting on her father to finally save the day.

Delilah remembers her father charging the kidnapper, trying so hard to take him down. The gunshot still rings in her ears. She'd watched as her father fell, holding his bleeding stomach. Tears stung in her eyes as blood spilled on the concrete floor. The FBI barged in at the sound of gunshots, and arrested the 'unsub'' but it was too late for Logan Reign. He'd lost too much blood. She was numb as a man named Spencer Reid and another agent, JJ, untied her and removed the duct tape from her lips. Dr Reid gave Delilah his FBI jacket, trying to comfort the cold, bloody girl.

The voice of Delilah's receptionist was barley even enough to snap her out of her flashback. But she looked up to see her small body standing in the doorway.

"Miss Reign, there's a man here to see you."

"A man?"

"Skinny, nerdy, awkward..." she begins to describe the man standing on the other side of the reception counter.

"Send him in."

"Hey Delilah," Dr Reid says, walking into her office.

"Hey Spencer, what are you doing here?"

He stays standing awkwardly in front of Delilah's desk. "You seemed pretty stressed out. I wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Which is seems like that's a no."

"I'm okay, Spencer. I just have a lot to do, and now I have to trust someone else to be in charge in Atlanta. I'm getting phone calls from him everyday all while getting my father's things in order. It's just... a lot."

"I'm sorry, Delilah." His eyebrows come together for a moment in a look of sympathy.

"It's fine. I guess you just have to do things yourself if you want it done right," she lets out a soft chuckle.

Spencer returns the small laugh, and looks at you a little worried. "Do you sleep?"

"I could ask you the same question, Doctor." Delilah says sort of sarcastically, indicating the dark circles under his hazel eyes.

"Touché."

The two of them talk for a while until Spencer’s phone begins ringing from his pocket. “Hotch?”

Delilah can tell it's urgent before he even hangs up the phone.

"Sorry, I gotta go there's been a murd-"

"It's okay, Spencer. Duty calls. Go save some lives."

"Go do your business stuff," he says to her kind of awkwardly. He regrets it, but Delilah stifles a short laugh.

She watches him leave then gets back to her busy work life. It was nice to have a moment to breathe and talk to someone she liked. Someone she liked that wasn't wanting to make a deal or get a raise or get another week off.

The director yells cut, and gives a few notes. He says he's going to look at the footage really quickly and see if you need to refilm it. He checks what you just filmed and says it's actually really good. He has you film one part again, then you're free to go.

You are no longer needed on set for the rest of the day since they're just filming some case things. You decide to head to Dunkin again to speak with Jess.

"Heyyyy!"

"Hey Jess!"

"What's up?"

"Just got back from set," you say. You're already dressed in the clothes you were in this morning again. Your hair is still slicked back and you left the makeup on, deciding to just take it off at home. "Ya know surprisingly, Matthew wasn't a complete assclown today."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. He said a few stupid things before filming, but really he didn't talk much out of character. It was a nice refresher."

Jess laughs. "Well maybe he's changing."

"Haha funny you think that. What've you been up to today?"

"Just the usual. I got to work at 9..."

"Don't you always start at 8?"

"I was... preoccupied this morning."

"Oh?" You question, pushing gently for details.

"Okay so I met a girl last night, and well we hit it off. I ended up taking her home."

"Oh my gosh! What's her name?"

"Jacklyn, she's mixed and super hot. She's tall like you, and I swear she's the sweetest thing. Very kinky though."

Your eyes widen, "Oh. Lovely. I totally needed to know that." You laugh, a bit shocked.

She shrugs with a smile.

"So what does this Jacklyn do?"

"She's a bartender but she's going back to school for cosmetology."

"Ooh cool. Well, tell me if you see her again, okay?"

"Sure thing," she winks and heads back behind the counter to assist a customer.

You finish your coffee and head back to your apartment. You have no other plans for the rest of the day, and it's only 12. You decide to strip out of your jeans and go pantless while snuggling on your couch. You tie your hair up into a low bun. You cuddle up with a soft blanket and decide to watch some Harry Potter. Goblet of Fire plays while you scroll through your phone. Eventually you get too interested in the movie, even though you've seen it a thousand times, and put down your phone.

You fall asleep on the couch with your makeup still on, which bugs the crap out of you. After a short nap, you wash your face and make some dinner. Veggie burgers are on the menu for tonight. After eating, you do some yoga and take a hot bath.

Tonight, you're hoping you can sleep better than normal since you had a relaxing thirty minute bath. You crawl into bed after getting into a matching set of purple silk jammies. This week is going to be fairly boring since you're not filming as much.

chapter six

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @yazzyu

[itsallyscorner]

Baby’s First Heartbreak

pairing: marvel cast x teen!fem!reader, Scarlett Johansson x reader, Elizabeth Olsen x reader

prompt: the youngest member of the marvel cast experiences her first breakup.

warnings: not much—crying, a break up.

A/n: Tom is 19 here because this is set during Civil War. He was such a baby omg🥺

You were always a firm believer in having hope. No matter what the situation was, you knew that you had to at least try before fully giving up. You were only 18, but it was the mindset you grew up with. You were taught to face things with bravery and confidence, you faced things head to head with all your might. Though some things never went the way you planned, you were still the ray of sunshine you were, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to learn and explore the world.

You had the same mindset going into your first relationship. Love was something you’ve always wanted to experience. Sure, you received it from your friends and family. But you wanted the different kind of love. The special one that was shared between two people. The one that made your heart skip a beat and made you breathless. Where staring into that special someone’s eyes felt like you were being transported into another world where it was just the two of you.

You’ve found that kind of love in a boy from your hometown. The two of you had been friends since pre-k, growing up along side each other, and being there for each other’s success and failures. You’ve known him all your life but the feelings didn’t come till sophomore year of high school. It all just clicked all of sudden; that one day where he said you looked cute in his jumper and the next moment you knew you were seeing him in a new light. Junior year, you were both beating around the bush; constantly pining over each other with longing stares and fingers always brushing against each other. Though you didn’t see him all the time due to your job as an actress. You spent half of the school year in your hometown and the rest at Atlanta. Of course he knew of your job and as much as he hated to see you go, he knew you were doing something that made you happy. So he spent as much time as he could with you before your time together came to an end. A few days prior to your flight to Atlanta, under the night sky of your backyard, he admitted his feelings for you. By senior year, the two of you had been dating for half a year. It had been the best moments of your life, you were in love and high on happiness, it was like nothing in life could ever go wrong.

Now here you were, in your trailer on the set of Captain America: Civil War, sobbing you eyes out. You knew loving could hurt, but not this much. You still felt your heart skip a beat, but it was clenching in heartache. You were still breathless, but because you’ve been trying to catch your breath after every sob that wracked your body. You felt broken. The boy you loved had ripped your heart out of your chest and threw it onto the floor, stomping on it till it stopped beating.

You hiccuped as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were nothing but a fool. A fool who had hope in something that was never going to work. You sniffled as you snatched tissues out of the box on your bathroom sink, dabbing the material onto your eyes and blowing your nose. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy. A sigh of frustration releases from your body. There was no way you could walk onto set without people asking you what was wrong.

You debated asking your assistant to ask your designated makeup artist to do your makeup in your trailer, you didn’t want to be a bother. But your thumbs were already shamefully typing away the request on your phone. A few minutes later Eleanor, your makeup artist on set, arrives at your trailer with her supplies in hand.

She doesn’t directly question you, but she has the look of a concerned mother once she sees your face. You lie to her and tell her you weren’t having a good day and chalked it up to being homesick.

You dreaded going on set. You weren’t sure if you could face anyone without bursting into tears. The moment you felt like you were okay, your heart would clench, reminding you of the ache it was feeling.

You were in your costume, sitting on the sidelines of the set while you rehearsed your lines. The dialogue from the script acted as a distraction from the current pain you were feeling. The tears had stopped but your eyes felt dry, making you blink multiple times to keep them wet.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You look up and meet the stunning blue eyes of Chris Evans. That typical goofy smile of his was etched onto his features. Usually you would reciprocate that smile, but today you just couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. His smile falters when he sees your face.

“Morning.” You greet him, forcing a smile. Concern shadows on his face as he shifts a bit closer to you. “You alright?” He asks, eyes softening at you. Being the youngest of all the Avengers cast members, everyone had a soft side for you. Especially Chris, who saw you as a daughter.

“Y-yeah, I’ve just got—allergies.” You lied, another fake smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Well have you taken something to help your allergies? Do you need Allegra? Claritin or something?” He looked around ready to call one of the runners on set to get you some meds.

“No! I took some already, a few minutes ago! It probably hasn’t kicked in yet.” You tell him. He eyes you reluctantly, not knowing if he should believe you. He decides to let it pass and nods, “Ok, tell me if you need anything though.”

You hum in response and tilt your head down back to your script.

The day goes on and everyone had caught on to your lack of—being you. The infamous smile everyone knew you by was barely on your face. You didn’t crack jokes with Anthony or share a giggle with Elizabeth. Instead you were quiet, a frown was on your face as you stared blankly at the floor. You didn’t interact with anybody, keeping to yourself and walking off set whenever one of the Russos called cut.

Anthony and Sebastian watched as you walked off the set. You have all finished a sequence of the airport scene and the Russos had given everyone a break while they rewatched the scenes they shot. Anthony’s brows furrowed while he watched your figure go further and further away. He had tried to cheer you up, telling you a joke about how Seb’s arm lube kept leaking out his fake arm. Your response was nothing but a fake laugh—it wasn’t even a fake laugh, more like a huff of laughter.

“She didn’t laugh at my joke.” Anthony thought aloud. Sebastian quirked an eye at his friend, “Does she have to laugh at all your jokes?”

“No, but even if I tell her a corny ass joke, she’ll still laugh at it.” He expressed, throwing his arms up. Sebastian’s lip pouted as he thought back to your behavior on set. You were acting unusual. He turns to Tom (Holland) and asks, “Hey, has (y/n) said anything to you? Like anything bothering her?”

The Brit shakes his head, “Um, nope. Besides filming, I haven’t spoken to her today.”

Anthony crosses his arms, approaching Tom, “Have you tried speaking to her? We’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on with her today and you’re the closest to her age here.”

“I—I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem in a talking mood. I thought I was bothering her so I just stopped.” Tom answered. He gestures to the direction of the trailers, “I could check up on her right now? Maybe I’ll get her one of her favorite snacks from crafties, it might cheer her up.”

Half of a smile makes it way onto Sebastian’s face at the boy’s efforts. Though you were clearly upset and he felt like they were all prodding at your privacy. “Maybe we should give her some time alone.”

Tom frowns at the older man, “But (y/n)’s upset. Shouldn’t we do something?” Anthony agrees with Tom and looks at Sebastian.

Seb raises his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying—maybe she wants to be alone. She went back to her trailer away from everybody. She probably doesn’t want us shoving our noses into her business, we should respect that.”

Chris joins the group along with Scarlett and Elizabeth. He had overhead the group talking and urged the two ladies to join him in on the conversation.

“You guys talking about (y/n)?” Chris asks, hands on his waist.

“Yeah, Seb says we should leave her be.” Anthony fills him in.

“She told me she had allergies.” Chris starts. “She’s an amazing actress, but kid’s gotta work on the lying.” He finishes. Elizabeth and Scarlett glance at each other.

“Well has anyone talked to her at all today? Besides Chris?” Elizabeth asked the group. Everyone shakes their head. Elizabeth sighs while looking around at anyone else who could’ve talked to you. She spots Eleanor hanging along the sides with her makeup belt on, ready for touch ups. Elizabeth calls her over. Eleanor has her brush ready to powder her down, but Elizabeth politely declines.

“You do (y/n)‘s makeup right?”

Eleanor nods, “Yeah, I do.”

“How was she this morning? We’re just a bit concerned since she’s been acting different today.” Eleanor sighs, knowing if she told them it would be an invasion of your privacy. Although, they were all concerned for you and so was she.

“I got a text from her assistant telling me to do her makeup in her trailer today.” She began. “I walked in and her eyes were red, cheeks puffy—“

Chris apologizes and interrupts her, “Because of allergies?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “No, she never mentioned anything about allergies. But she looked like she’s been crying. She was wiping her face when I arrived.”

“Did she give you a reason for why she was crying?” Scarlett questions her.

“She told me she was feeling homesick.” Eleanor answered. Scarlett turned to Chris and shared a look. Elizabeth thanks Eleanor then turns back to the group.

“We need to check up on her.” Anthony says. All the men nodded and began to make their way to your trailer. Suddenly, they were stopped by Scarlett and Elizabeth.

“But (y/n)—“ Tom said pointing to the trailers. Scarlett shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Lizzie and I will go. You guys are gonna overwhelm her with all your questions.” Scarlett insists, much to the men’s dismay. They wanted to be there for you, but maybe a mother figure might help you open up with what’s bothering you. They agree and let the two women go to your trailer. Before they can get to you, they get some snacks from crafties for you.

As soon as you shut the trailer’s door behind you, the tears welled up in your eyes again. It only took a matter of seconds until they fell from your eyes and down your cheeks. You heard some people walk by outside and cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that came out your mouth. You slid down the door and shoved your head into your hands. You leaned forward against your knees as you cried into your arms. You felt pathetic, embarrassed, anger; you were feeling so many things and the only way to let them all out seemed to be crying.

They heard your cries from behind the door. Scarlett sends Elizabeth an alarmed look as she rushes up to your door. She knocked on it repeatedly, causing you to jump from behind the door. Your cries come to a stop while you try to wipe away the tears as best as you can.

“(Y/n), honey, please open the door.” You hear Scarlett say. You remain silent, getting up and dusting your legs off. You stare at the door, debating whether you should open it or not.

“(Y/n), everyone’s worried about you. We just want to help.” Another voice coaxes you behind the door. Elizabeth. “Please let us in.”

Outside, the two women had their ears pressed up against your trailer’s door. Scarlett tries to get you to open the door again, “It’s only me and Lizzie. I promise.”

There was some shuffling heard behind the door. The door pushes open slowly, making Scarlett and Elizabeth back away. A worried expression appears on Scarlett’s face once she sees you. She cups your cheeks, her thumbs gently swiping away some tears that fell from your eyes. The two of them shuffle inside your trailer. You burst out into tears once again when Scarlett wraps her arms around you. She moves you both to sit on the couch that was in your trailer. She lets you shove your head into the crook of her neck while her hands smoothed your hair. Elizabeth sits behind you rubbing circles onto your back. Your cries broke both their hearts. You were a fairly happy girl, to see you in such pain and heartache was hard to watch.

Scarlett rocks you back and forth, trying to calm you down by whispering comforting words into your ear. She presses a motherly kiss onto your forehead once she sees you start to calm down. Elizabeth waits patiently beside you waiting for when you’re ready to talk. When your whimpers turned into hiccups, Scarlett pulls your face away from her neck to look at you. She frowns when she sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on or are you going to keep bottling it up to yourself?” She asks you softly, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears. Elizabeth chimes in from behind you, “You know, sometimes it helps to tell others what’s bothering you. You don’t have to keep it to yourself, (y/n), you could talk to us.” She gathers your hair together, splitting it into two parts as she began to fish tail braid your hair. 

You take a moment to compose yourself before eyeying the two women. You knew you could trust them. Scarlett was like your on-set mom and Lizzie was like one of your aunts. If you could tell anyone on set what was going on, it would be them.

“He broke up with me.” You confess, eyes trained on your lap. Lizzie’s fingers stop braiding your hair, “What?”

“Peyton, he broke up with me.” You whined, not wanting to say it again. You fiddle with your fingers while a tear falls to your lap.

“Oh honey.” Scarlett cooes pulling you back into her chest. You sniffle and wrap your arms around her torso. Silently crying into her shoulder.

“Did he give you a reason why?” Lizzie asks softly. You move away from Scarlett’s hold and lean against the couch with your knees to your chest. Lizzie wraps an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

You glanced at your phone that was on the coffee table, “H-he texted me earlier this morning. He said he couldn’t do the long distance thing anymore and that he has feelings for somebody else.”

Anger flashes in Scarlett’s eyes, “He broke up with you over a text message?” You nod in response.

“What a dick.” She mutters glaring at your phone. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Until you ask them, “Am I not worth trying for a long distance relationship?”

Lizzie shakes her head, “No, don’t you ever think that because you are.”

You sigh and throw your head back, “Then why did he break up with me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough?” Scarlett interrupts your questions by shushing you.

“There is not a damn thing wrong about you. Don’t you ever let a man, let alone a boy, make you question your worth.” Scarlett advises you a stern look on her face. “You are the most sweetest and loveliest girl I have ever met in my life. You’re kind, you care about the people around you—you even laugh at Anthony’s stupid jokes.”

Lizzie snorts beside you and squeezes your shoulder, “And his jokes are the worst.”

Scarlett continues, “You are a talented young woman already making it big in the movie industry and you did it all on your own. You are beautiful inside and out. You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why did he leave me?”

“Because he’s an idiot that doesn’t know your worth.” Lizzie answers resting her head on your shoulder. “I know it hurts now but these things happen for a reason. He wasn’t meant for you and you weren’t meant for him. Maybe somewhere in the future you guys will meet and try again. Or maybe you’ll move on with someone new. That’s just how it is. It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth.”

Scarlett nods at Lizzie, “Take it from me, I’ve been married twice. When it seems like you found that special person, sometimes it’ll all come crashing down. And it’s not an easy thing to go through. It’s full of pain, heartache, self doubt and a bunch of other heart wrenching things. But in the end you come out a stronger version of yourself.”

You stare at Scarlett, “How did you do it?”

Scarlett softly smiles at you, “Well, I had lots of friends who supported me every step of the way. But most importantly, I valued myself. I did things that made me happy and took care of myself mentally and physically.”

You bite your lip in thought as you stare at the ground.

“Listen to me.” Scarlett urges you, “You’re young, (y/n). You’re going to meet so many more people in the future that’ll bring you so much happiness and love in your life. Don’t beat yourself up over one boy who decided to leave you because he wasn’t committed for a long distance relationship. You’re going to be okay.” She assures you, cradling your face. Your lips form into a tight smile while you nod in response.

“You have us and the rest of the people outside of this trailer to support you. We’ll always have your back, whatever it is, I promise you that. You’re not going to go through this by yourself.” Lizzie promises you, taking your hand into hers. You hum and rest your head on her shoulder. You pull on Scarlett’s arm to join you and Lizzie. She chuckles and hugs you from behind.

“Thank you guys.” You whisper, genuinely grateful that you had them in your life. Lizzie pecks your temple, “Anytime darling.”

[sassybitch4tea]

God I'm so disappointed about Taylor Swift, Margot Robbie and Anya Taylor-joy for working with David O. Russell in the new movie Amsterdam

I feel awful I'm masive swiftie but i can't stan for Taylor in this one, i didn't put much attention in the details of the movie she was going to do when it was announced cause i was really excited to watch her on cinema but now that i've seen the trailer and David's name on it, i just couldn't help but felt complete upset with her like come on you wrote The man and you've been one hell of a witness of misogyny and abuse in this industry, you've had fight and make activism for things to get better for all the abuse victims and then you throw it all to the window. I - i just can't even express my disappointment.

And what about Margot, she produced Promising young woman a movie condemning the complicity of which we are part when we relate to abusers, to do exactly the same thing. Nice :/

I'm just really upset with all the people who is involved with this man cause some of them know and are aware of this asshole weird behavior like Christian Bale who fought him for mistreating Amy Adams and yet here we are.

For the people who doesn't know O. Russell sexually abused his trans niece when she was 19, which was confirmed by Russell himself to have happened and also for years committed labor abuse with many actors.

For all the swifties and this movie "Amsterdam" actors fans please don't go to watch it, let's stop the support for this abusers in Hollywood. It seems like the only way Hollywood do the right thing is when they don't get the pay check they expected. So if you so badly wants to see you're favorite actor/actress watch it online or something but don't give one penny to this hell of a monster and also let's reflect about all this fake wokeness celebs hand us and be a little bit more self aware and use common sense without waiting for them to "make us see it", they're just trying to be relatable.

Btw I'm not saying the fault is the actress or actors for the abuse because its all the David's but it's disappointing to see he got the support of such masive celebs to go on with another project when he should be in jail and also we see the hypocrisy in the industry like you make activism all until money gets in between and then well they said maybe it wasn't that bad

I love Taylor with all my life, but when our favorite artists screw it, we have to recognize it and not act as if nothing had happened just because they are our idols and blind ourselves by the admiration we have for them. Recognizing they made something wrong doesn't make you less of a fan, it just make you a critical thinking person