#i feel like a freak this is the only man who doesn’t gross me out when he says mama help

[sturnioloho]

the return of mama

[munsonsmixtapes]

Saw you had requests! And this may be a trigger warning but it’s a fix I’ve thought about for months.

Eddie, bestie female reader. You are newer to Hawkins and go to a party with Eddie robin and Steve. Not big into drugs or drinking to stick with punch.

While Eddie is off making some money you’re not paying attention to your cup. And someone slips in something.

Soon you start to feel weird… and scared. Someone finds Eddie who is by your side in a second. Friends freak out your crying and scared possible culprit is found and Eddie wants to kick his ass but he is taking care of you. And then from there where ever you think it could lead? Ed’s taking you home but staying and helping you through your high/trip so sweet doesn’t even need to be secretly in love or it could be but nothing happens because… well after a scary thing like that… no thanks.

Idk it’s been stuck in my head and again don’t write if you’re not comfortable.

Im not going to anon because I’m afraid I may miss if you do write. But again if not that’s totally okay!

Hey, thanks so much for your request!

Word count: 1,723

CW: reader gets roofied, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

Eddie x bestie!fem!reader

You looked around Steve’s house which was filled a bunch of people you didn’t know. You hadn’t really liked parties, but Eddie had begged you to go and you found yourself unable to say no to him. He was just so cool and pretty that you wanted to do whatever he asked when he flashed you those doe brown eyes.

You were still new to town and in no position to pass up friends so that meant hanging around people you didn’t like just so full your social circles. People like Brad were who you despised the most. He had been trying to sleep with you for months only to be met by rejection. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, approaching you every chance he got and that night hadn’t been an exception.

“Hey,” he smiled, leaning over the back of the couch. Eddie was always quick to jump to your defense, but of course he was nowhere to be found, taking an opportunity to sell, it being a huge party and all.

You ignored him, looking down at the red plastic cup in your hand. Eddie had given you some punch that had just been a bunch of different types of alcohol mixed with some juice. You didn’t drink much so it was perfect, the juice completely covering up the bitter alcohol taste that you weren’t a fan of.

You thought that not speaking to Brad would help him get the hint, but that only made him speak again. He took your silence as playing hard to get and goddamn was he determined to get you.

To Brad, you were just another body to use. He loved that you were innocent, having never slept with anyone. He just wanted to add yet another notch to his bedpost, wanting your name to be on the list of virgins he had fucked.

You had felt bad for the girls who had been desperate enough to sleep with Brad and you definitely weren’t going to be one of them. He was gross and you had eyes for only one man. That man being nowhere to be found when you needed him.

You hadn’t been paying attention and Brad had slipped something into your drink, quickly moving away before anyone could catch him. If you wouldn’t say yes, he was going to take matters into his own hands.

But Robin had caught him and hurried over to you to stop you from drinking the now contaminated juice. You had already taken a sip before she was able to get to you. She watched in horror as you swallowed the liquid and quickly took the cup from you. She pulled you in the kitchen to keep an eye on you and poured the juice down the sink.

She then grabbed onto Steve who just so happened to also be in the kitchen and turned him around to face her, panic in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He could see the look on her face and started to worry. Robin was known to freak out on a regular basis, but this was different. He could feel it. Something was wrong.

“Y/n was roofied.” He felt his knees go weak at her words and looked at you for any signs of sickness, but you seemed fine. It was only a matter of time before the symptoms took over.

“I’m gonna go get Eddie. Take her to your room,” she told him, looking around the house for the curly head of hair.

Robin was quick to run from the kitchen, pushing through all of the partygoers to find the metal head. She didn’t have much time and it didn’t help that Steve’s house was packed and there was no trace of Eddie anywhere.

Steve took you to his room so you could have some quiet. You already felt dizzy, having trouble walking, feeling like the place was spinning. Everything was distorted and didn’t look right.

You continued you to try to walk but fell to the floor, the drugs in your system quickly taking over. You fell face first in the foyer and people were quick to part like the Red Sea as you laid there in the middle of them.

Everyone just stared at you while Steve was picked. He looked down at your face to see that your nose was red from where it hit the floor. He carried you up the stairs and to his room, hoping that Eddie was going to be there soon. You were fading fast and you looked so scared, it was terrifying to him. He didn’t know you as well as Eddie, but you were his friend and he hated seeing you like that. So scared and helpless.

Steve opened the door and closed it behind him with his foot before carefully laying you on his bed. His heart was racing and he was wondering where the fuck Eddie was. It didn’t take long to get to his room no matter when in the house you were coming from.

Steve sat you up against his headboard, making sure you didn’t fall asleep. He laid next to you awkwardly, not taking his eyes off of you.

“I need Eddie,” you slurred. Steve wanted Eddie too. He was the only one who always knew what you needed. Steve was going to try his best, but he was terrified for you. He couldn’t imagine going through something so scary.

“Eddie’s coming sweetheart. He’ll be here in a second.” Steve wasn’t sure how sure his statement was true, but he was going to believe it anyway.

The door burst open and Eddie and Robin rushed into the room. She sat on the bed next to Steve while Eddie made a beeline for you. He took you into his arms and the two of you slowly lowered yourselves to the floor. You cried into his chest and he let you, knowing how scared you were. You needed to let it out and he was going to let you talk about it if you wanted to.

Robin and Steve made themselves scarce, wanting to give to two of you some space. Eddie pulled you onto the bed and you cuddled up into his side, feeling nothing but dizzy. Everything was doubled and you had to close your eyes so it would go away, but it didn’t. It only got worse when you closed your eyes.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I should have been there with you.” Eddie was going to blame himself for the rest of his life. Sure, if he had been with you, you wouldn’t have been drugged, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just horrible incident and the only person to blame was Brad.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you slurred. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve been paying more attention.” He was getting angry that you were blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault at all. You should have been able to have a drink without worrying whether there were drugs in it or not.

“No,” he said a bit too harshly, sitting up he so could look you in the eyes. “None of this is your fault, y/n. It’s Brad’s.”

“Exactly,” you opened your eyes. “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. You should be allowed to leave me for a few minutes without worrying about me.”

“I always worry about you. You’re my best friend. That’s my job. And I didn’t do my job for one night and something horrifying happened to you, y/n. You were assaulted.” That word made it sound so much worse. You knew that was what happened to you, but didn’t really have time to think about it until Eddie had said it.

Just because Brad hadn’t done anything to you physically didn’t mean that you weren’t a victim. Eddie wanted you to know the severity of what had happened and wanted to you to know that you had every right to feel scared.

You fell silent after that, the words heavy between the two of you. Your heart rate quickened as everything set it. You didn’t want to believe it, very much in denial of the severity of the situation. In your mind, if you didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t actually happening.

You slowly drifted to sleep and Eddie kept an eye on you to make sure you were okay. He felt sick seeing you like that. You hadn’t been acting like yourself and even after your discussion, he was still blaming himself for what had happened to you. He’d get over it eventually, but for now, he was going to let himself drown in his guilt.

You woke up the next morning from the sun shining through the window. You felt so much better, but you were still a little groggy. You sat up and panicked when Eddie wasn’t by your side but let out a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting at Steve’s desk. He had some toilet paper in his nose and a bag of frozen peas was sitting onto top of one of his hands, his other hand of top of the bag.

He smiled when he looked at you and you returned it, his smile always infections. You eyed the peas once more and wondered what had happened while you were asleep. It seemed like Eddie was always up to trouble.

“What did you do this time?”

“I punched Brad.” He said the words so proudly and for once, you didn’t feel like scolding him. If anyone deserved to have the shit punched out of them, it was him. He deserved a lot more, but you were going to take what you could get as far as his ass kickings went.

“Steve helped. We went to his house this morning and taught him a lesson about dragging women before calling the cops. They arrested him an hour later so he’s definitely not to be bothering you anymore.”

You didn’t think anyone had done something so nice for you. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie would have done anything for you. He would have even left Brad alone if you asked.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You walked over to him and planted yourself in his lap. He wasn’t caught off guard at first, but arm quickly wrapped around your waist while you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to. And that was the least that fucking dick deserved.” It was true, and even though you would probably never to get over what had happened to you, knowing that Brad was behind bars made you feel a whole lot better.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Toji Fushiguro ~ “Fist Your Cock.”

18+, MDI, time of the month, masterbation, p in v, period sex, Toji is perfect, fuck everyone else who thinks otherwise.

Word count: who fucking knows I was just writing in my car during my lunch break.

There was only three things Toji hated more than anything in his life, 1. Was when you were being bratty, 2. You on your period, and 3. You being bratty while on your period. He hated to see you in that aching pain, and he also hated how he couldn’t fuck your brains out. You both had tried having sex once before while you were on your time of the month, the blood part didn’t freak him out, it was you who found it uncomfortable, and gross.

But here you were, the 5 days out of the month, on your menstrual cycle once again. Dreading telling your boyfriend when he gets home, because of course the first thing he does when he gets home from his boring office job, is he gropes you, fondling you.

You hear him kick off his shoes, shutting the front door to your shared apartment. “‘M home.” He says in a yawn, perking up like a dog when he sees you. You were in one of his big shirts, big to you at least, and some boxer briefs because they were so much more comfortable especially when you’re on your time of the month. He knew, the moment he saw those damn briefs, what time of the month it was. “Ugh fuck.” He groans, “are you serious? Again?” He grumbles to himself, “Toji! What do you mean again? I am on it every month, quit acting like this is some surprise.” You say with an annoyed tone.

“Hey! Don’t get sassy with me.” He says sternly, “well your the one making sounds of disgust!” You pout, “I just hate your woman stuff, ‘m pent up.” He says, running his hands through his dark jet black hair. “Oh and you think I want to be on it?” You say crossing your arms, clearly frustrated. You usually didn’t let his little remarks get under your skin, but you were already in an irritable mood, and hormonal. But your not going to tell him that, because he would only use it as an excuse on why you’re “overreacting”

“Look all I’m saying is, ‘m wanted to come home, and get a good fuck in. What can I say.” He chuckles throwing his hands up in defeat. You’re mad, beyond mad. You shouldn’t be, but everything has pissed you off today. So now you’re going to take it out on the man who hates a sassy attitude. “Aw well doesn’t it suck to be you then? Hmm? How about you go fist your cock since your so “pent up” you say, throwing up the quotation motion with your hands, storming off into your bedroom.

“Oh so it’s like that, hmm?” He smirks. He says spinning you around, “huh?” You say confused, almost feeling whiplash. “Fist my own cock huh? Aight.” He grins, dragging you into the shared bedroom, standing in front of the full length mirror he had mounted on the wall. The mirror you would make him stand in front of with you, as you took mirror pictures with him, always making him hold your waist, or have his head laying on your shoulder. The same mirror, that you both maybe once or even twice fucked in front of, because he wanted you to see your fucked out face.

He turns you to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly pulls your shirt over your head. “Toji!” You squeal, covering your breast. “Put your arms down now, you want me to fist my own cock, well ‘m need some motivation.” He smirks, pulling your arms away from your chest, then unzipping his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. You’re watching him through the mirror, the lump in your throat just sitting there. You felt like you almost couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t figure out the wetness that felt like was leaking out was your period, or arousal, or maybe even both. But you felt your nipples start to harden, and you think that maybe this isn’t the worst idea.

“Watch how I stroke it baby, because when your done with your lady stuff, ‘m gonna fuck that bratty little mouth of yours, then fuck that sassy pussy afterwards. Ungh- you hear me?” He says in a grunt, stroking his cock slowly. All of a sudden, you see his hand that he had been stroking his cock with, come up to you, he mutters- “spit.” And you do, because the last thing you wanted was for him to pull down those briefs and fuck you into oblivion. “Yes sir.” You say, spitting into his head. He smirks, he knows how nasty you are, how your mind is just as disgusting as is. Even though, you had this good girl persona, you were freakier than what you showed on the outside.

“Ha- you want me to fuck you dontcha?” He scoffs, a grin plastered on his face. He’s stroking his cock faster, pre-cum droplets peeking out of the slit of his tip. “Fuck, I wish I was feeling your pussy rig-right now.” He mutters under his breath, his cock twitching in his hand. You are watching every single move, seeing the way he pumps it from the base, and squeezing around the very tip, causing more of the pre-cum to leak out. You move your hand up to one of your nipples, standing there in front of the mirror, and starting pinching it. He looks up at you through the mirror, then groans, that’s all it took for him to full out shoot his seed onto his hand and the mirror, your watching his cock twitch in his hand, he’s moaning loudly, “fuck, shit, god damn.” Spilling from his mouth.

“How much are you bleeding?” He says, looking over at you. “What? What do you mean?” You ask, stepping back. “I can’t hold it.” He says, picking you up, taking you into the shower, taking off your briefs. “You got a tampon in?” He ask, your dumbfounded. “Yes or no?” He ask again, “y-yeah.” You say, putting your hands over your womanhood. He spreads your legs, pulling the string dangling, throwing it in the trash quickly, placing you in the shower. In a swift movement, he has your leg lifted, and he’s fucking you into the wall.

“T-tooojiii.” You moan, at this point you didn’t care if you were bleeding or not, feeling his cock stretch your walls, you forgot all about the ache in your stomach. He starts swirling his tongue around your nipple, they were so sensitive. You look down at him, water droplets falling from the ends of his hair, he leans his head up, still fucking you fast, and deep. Trying to have some sort of control, so he doesn’t hurt you. He knew how sensitive you were down there when you were haven’t your time of the month. He brings his hand down, rubbing your clit. “Toji don’t, I’m bleeding.” You moan, “hush, your pussy is talking to me.” He groans in your ear, “listen to her. She said for me to keep going.” He smirks, you’rere so close to your release, “Toji, I’m cumming.” You say in a moan, “cum princess, cum all over my cock.” He groans, feeling you milking him dry.

And after 3, 4 thrust, he’s shooting his seed deep into you. Finally pulling out, a mixture of blood and both of your cum. You loved how it didn’t bother him one bit, he was disgusting, he was vulgar, but he was just for you, he loved you in every form, he’d fuck you even if you were dead, something he said. A lot of people found it as a red flag, but you loved that about him, it showed you that he had eyes for no one but you, and you were okay with that. “Period sex ain’t bad huh? Took that brattiness out of that tiny little body of yours.” He smirks, kissing your forehead, starting to rinse and wash you off.

“Mmm I guess not. But this isn’t going to be a regular thing.” You side eye, “Hmm we will see ab’ that one.” He chuckles.

Let’s just say, those 5 days you two took a lot of showers.

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

Hiiii bonten Rindou hc???? Pleaseee. Love him frr

To be honest, I intended for this to be almost exclusively for haikyuu… BUT FOR YOU MY FRIEND! *pounds chest* I SHALL GIVE YOU THE RINNY OF YOUR DREAMS. Also you didn’t specify what kind you want so ima give you my finest shit, which happens to be my head cannon prowess. (Totally not because I hate writing dialogue, no,no, that’s so stupid 😳) Also important side note: I aint spend days finishing the Tok rev manga not to use it tf outta here. Tokrev and Jjk content is welcomed proudly.

idk if I’ll make a part 2, but on the off chance I do, look foreword to girldad Rinny content.

status: unedited

warnings: cursing, slightly sexual situations (but no smut), mafia bs, blood? Fluffy bullshit, Rindou being a dick hole, the ick, my bad Spanish

💜Bonten Rindou Hataini. Headcannons~💜

The first thing off the bat, I definitely think he is on the demisexual spectrum. I know everyone else be saying that he would be all about just sleeping around like that, but to be honest, I think that that’s more of a Ran thing. I feel like the only reason he would go to strip clubs and shit like that for work, and would actually be really grossed out when people would coddle him. If he was to have a significant other, it would have to be someone he has known for a long time, or from his old delinquent days. My best idea would be a calm friend who would give him the notes from his skipped classes. And in return he’d take them out for food or some shit. Somewhere along the way y’all would just be like, “we’re totally together right?” “Duh, why else would I put up with you.” Yeah he a lil bitch.

Any way, as for him as an adult, all I gotta say is “Mmmm Papí ¿quieres una besito?~”. Like Jesus Christ man has no right being this freaking fine. Sexy Jellyfish ass boy

Yakuza Daddy🥵. This man will spoil the everlasting shit outta you, and go to Walmart for his own shit. But had does it in the most obnoxious way possible. He gets you a necklace? “Hey babe, gotchu this, your old one was musty af, take better care of your shit.” Awww you want a new dress? “Sure babe, but just know that thing barely covers shit, and will be gone by the end of the night.” You want something just random? “Wtf am I a walking ATM? No, pick it tf up, I’m buying it, you can’t stop me. Quit arguing before I buy you 3 more.”

But when it comes to himself? Yeah he only indulges in suits and Jordan’s. Other than that, he has an avengers shirt he had since he was 12 and a pinball machine. That’s the extent of his possessions. Well that and the watch you got him for his birthday, but shhhhh he can’t let you know he cares ewwwww.

Man is literally the biggest (for lack of better word) Tsundere. Like Top three in anime. Like you got 1.Kageyama 2.Sasuke 3. Him. Like manz would rather die than say he cares. His love language is quality time and gift giving, so he’s more show you he loves you, but won’t say it first. The kinda mf that when you say I love you to them say, “Yeah I know, I love me too if only there was someone out there who loved you.” Like manz is so obvious I wanna kiss him to shut him the fuck up. (I think I have a type.) like bro the me love you tf?

In terms of icks there is one thing I no for fact. This mf wears socks to bed. And not the cute fluffy kind. The musty ass crusty socks he wore all day, then stepped in water, and now you gotta deal with it while yall cuddling. I hate this mf.

On a more serious note, because of his Bonten Bs, he doesn’t have a lot of time for us. So we make time. His time. We just barge in during his meetings, lay across his lap, watch TikTok’s, while everyone (him) are just looking like “is this bitch serious!?” >:|

Anyways, because he’s so busy all the time, the majority of what he wants to do when he gets home is just to sprawl out on the couch and just stay there. You can cuddle with him too or whatever he doesn’t mind🙄. But fair warning, he’s the kinda dude who is only ever in the mood for either ww2 documentary’s or like deep sea documentary’s. Like mf has the same movie taste as my dad, I can’t with him. It’s a good day when you can convince him to try something actually entertaining. And you know what he picks? The Fucking exorcist. He’s an asshole. The kinda dude to pretend he’s unfazed, but his left leg physically won’t stop shaking.

speaking of movies, I know I say this every time, but scream Halloween costumes. Yes. Give me Rinny as ghostface please, I’ll freaking sell my soul. Especially if it’s not the robe but one of the like dry fit and leather harness- *incomprehensible pterodactyl noises* 🥵

anyway back to cuddling, his go to position is literally the Hakari and Kirara thing. Like this mf will always have a hand on your ass. He doesn’t like PDA but this? Yeah you can’t stop him. He is an ass guy, it’s just where his hand naturally gravitates.

I cannot explain the urge to play daddies home by usher every time I see him. Like he and my baby daddy Gojo have partial custody over that song. Like bro. Yes.

Tbh I don’t see him having a big wedding. Or any wedding. I think his thing would be just handing you his debit card and saying “pick some shit out. No, don’t worry bout the price I’m rich for a reason.” And after that yall just elope to some tropical place across the planet for like a month.

speaking of travel it’s a pretty common thing for you. Just that it’s always last minute. Like bro don’t even give you time to brag to the your friends. Man just pulls up 10 minutes before y’all need to go to the airport and says, “get ready, we’re going to France. How long? Idk a month? Boo hoo bitch. Stay home then. Mhm that’s wtf k thought”. Manz is such an ass but you gotta love a walking wallet.

My last thought I’m gonna share is how he physically won’t use nicnames. Like babe is the physically most he can bring himself to do. Maybe baby. He gives himself the ick every time he thinks of doing anything else

all in all, he’s the one who is always there for you, and expects the same. He’s a great guy, under all the stress and yakuza bs. Treat him well, or I’ll treat him better😤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry this took me so long to write, I’m working on another request too, and more importantly, my final exams for collage, love that. But even do, if you liked this, please like and request something, and I will definitely be posting. Love y’all so much, I’ll see yall later.

[luxury-nightmare]

inspired by nerdymixedpan on tiktok

Ranking Magnus fears by How likely I am to serve them/how freaked out I am by them (including the Extinction because I will never forget about my underrated king)

1, The Eye

How freaked out am I by it? 3/10. My sister will come barging into my room uninvited anyway so the fear of being watched doesn’t really freak me out.

How likely am I to serve it?

7/10. I listened to 200 episodes of gay people suffering. What do you think

2, The Lonely

5/10 the person who I took this idea from said it best. This is schrodinger's fear. Cause on one hand, I like being alone. I spend most of my time huddled up in my room. But on the other hand, the enjoyment mostly comes from being awful at social situations and accidentally hurting peoples feelings when I talk to them

8/10 I said it already. I already isolate myself give me the banish powers. Gentle voiced old man I’m coming for your crown.

3, The Spiral

5/10 not exactly. Honestly the thought of me being crazy is probably not my greatest fear, it’s more the system for mentally ill people. I once let a couple things slip and was taken to a mental hospital, and the only thing I could think is “is there something wrong with me?” which, in my humble opinion, is not something someone struggling with mental illness should be thinking in a place that’s supposed to help them

5/10 would I be a good spiral avatar? No. Would I leap at the chance? Absolutely. I wanna see door wife and fuckhands mcmike

4, The Stranger

6/10 I do not fuck with uncanny valley shit. 4/10 I am a theater kid, so this could be right up my alley, but all the avatars are glorified theater kids so I think I’ll pass

5, The Desolation

2/10 I was scared of fire as a kid, but that’s the extent of my fear towards it.

4/10 Fire is pretty, I like setting things on fire, and Agnes is hot (pun intended) but that’s pretty much it

6, The Corruption

5/10 sickness and illness freak me out, but I’m chill with bugs. 2/10 no

7, The Vast

6/10 I went through a huge nihilism phase in middle school so that would factor into it. Honestly having an astronomy class is not going to help with this. But lately it’s less “nothing matters” and more “nothing matters so you can fuck up as much as you need”

8/10 enjoy sky blue motherfuckers!

8, The Buried

6/10 honestly this is a new one. I like to be in small spaces, but I cannot handle caves. I think I can blame Pastra’s Ted the caver video and the lost johns cave episode for this. But also, if we think about The Buried as The Vast opposite and pulled from its more metaphorical aspects (I know the show doesn’t do this very often but bear with me) the fear that everyone depends on you and if you fuck up even slightly everyone will hate you forever? Yeah that’s me

4/10 has we ever met a buried avatar? I have no point of reference. Four out of ten

9, The Web

4/10 this is a tricky one. I’m chill with spiders but the manipulation part for me comes not from the fear that I’m being manipulated, more the fear that I’m being manipulative. That I’m tricking people into caring about me and doing what I want when I really just need to tough it out (would this feed into The Spiral? Not really, right?)

7/10 Spiders, killer aesthetic, breaking the fourth wall. Let me in.

10, The Flesh

9/10 no. No no. No no. No gross. Gross gross gross. Have you seen the episode where the guy hammers all the meat to his apartment and it’s starts to rot through the ceiling? Gross get it away from me.

0/10 no Jared I am not joining your cottagecore lesbian garden leave me alone

11, The Hunt

2/10 I feel like this one should freak me out more than it does. I live in the mountains, surrounded by wild animals, and I have terrible stamina. But honestly? It’s like Jon said. It’s natural. If I don’t bother them they don’t bother me.

3/10 I have terrible stamina. I would make a terrible hunt avatar

12, The Slaughter

5/10 I have strong feelings about war. But there less fear and more disgust, anger, and sadness.

2/10 although it would be nice to go apeshit once and a while, this is a hard no.

13, The Dark

1/10 dude I vibe with the dark. It doesn’t freak me out at all.

9/10 I am practically nocturnal. My sona is the embodiment of darkness incarnate. Hard yes. Give me the shadow powers

14, The End

6/10 honestly this feat comes from less from death itself and more what comes after, and my family’s reaction. The idea of nonexistence is terrifying and maybe there’s something worse. I watched a Scp video, I forgot the specific number, but it was an idea of what happens after death. Essentially, you stay conscious, but you cannot move, trapped in your own body feeling every slow pain of rot or cremation as your atoms split apart over millennium. So yeah, death itself is fine but everything after is scary

8/10 I’ve always had a fascination with death, not actual people dying, but the pomp and glamour we give death. Graveyards and funerals and death gods and all that jazz. Gothic stuff. Also The End is technically the only fear that can win in the long run. The End will come for us all.

15, The Extinction

7/10 Watch the news and you’ll understand what i mean. I was like 5 when I first learned about climate change and I promptly put that in a box in the back of my brain and tried to forget it ever existed.

10/10 dude this isn’t even about the killer aesthetic, this is just cause it’s criminally underrated. Extinction my fear I will be your avatar since no one else will be. Also dude it would be so easy, just send some random people inflammatory news articles, push some people into a hell dimension, and you’re done! Also if any of the other fears complete a ritual, that’s a whole ass free buffet!

TL:DR: Extinction is underrated and Hello jon. apologies for the deception, but i wanted to make sure you started reading, so i thought it best not to announce myself. I'm assuming youre alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldnt try to stop reading; there's every likelihood you'll just hurt your self. So just listen. Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (106-110)

Quick return to summaries, for: in which two dorks get married.

106 - Jitters

“It’s stressing me out,” Jared says. “Like, obviously I love Bryce, I wouldn’t be marrying him if I didn’t, but like, figuring out how to say it and not like, embarrassing myself in front of everyone? I dunno. It’s hard.”

“You are your father’s son,” his mom says, and Jared can’t even argue that. His dad’s fucking awful at this kind of stuff, so Jared inherited it honestly, he guesses. Like, it’s so really clear his dad thinks his mom’s the shit? Jared’s over being embarrassed by his parents being happy in their relationship. But his dad kind of sucks at the expressing good emotions bit, to the point where him saying something really nice is the kind of thing that sticks with you for a long time because of how rare it is, but at the same time, Jared’s never doubted his dad loves him, and Erin, and his mom.

Jared is SO MUCH his father’s son, in a way he generally refuses to acknowledge, and yes, they’re both straight up awful at expressing their feelings, but no one doubts Jared loves Bryce after any time spent around the two of them. Ditto Don with Susan. (It horrified Jared and Erin as kids, how gross in love their dad was. Marcus Mathesons will be able to relate.)

“You’re not going to be a troll with your grandkids, are you?” Jared says, doubling down on the making her feel old since she can’t make him set the table twice.

“Oh no,” his mom says. “I’ll treat them like gold and spoil them rotten until they doubt every story you tell about me being a troll.”

Rude.

“Oh god,” she mutters. “I’m my mother.”

“Grandma’s a saint,” Jared says.

“Well,” she says. “At least I know firsthand that the strategy works. Table.”

She is going to do it and it is going to WORK and none of the M&Ms will doubt their grandmas are saints, no matter how much Jared insists only Elaine is actually a saint.

With a week to go Jared realises he totally forgot to ask Arvan for time off, and he only realises when he hears Raf ask Arvan for time off, that time off being, oh, Jared’s wedding.

“Um, me too!” Jared says. “And Chaz. We kind of need to all take that off.”

Raf gives him an utterly disgusted look

Raf will tell this story for YEARS, along with Bryce and Jared meeting. So many unflattering stories about Jared that Raf was forced to witness.

“It’s cool if you’re — you know it’s normal, right? To have — doubts.” “Cool, but I don’t have any,” Jared says. “…do you have cold feet?”

Bryce makes a very dismissive noise.

Please, Bryce has been ready for years at this point.

Him and Julius go over to his parents for his last dinner as like, an unmarried man — weird — and Jared’s half waiting all dinner for his dad to like, grab his shoulder and go ‘if you’ve changed your mind…’ or something, but he doesn’t. Best behaviour. Mom probably threatened him.

Honestly proud of Don for not doing that. (Susan definitely threatened him)

How’s the lake house?”

“It’s huge,” Bryce says. “You’re going to be so annoyed.”

I love that Bryce’s first thought about the place is ‘wow, this is so nice — that’s going to piss Jared off’, and he’s RIGHT.

107 - Preparation

“Nervous?” Julius asks him over breakfast.

“My feet are toasty warm,” Jared says, and after a very confused look from Julius, breakfast is briefly derailed to explain the concept of cold feet and no, Jared doesn’t know why it’s called cold feet, and then they’re looking up the etymology and Julius is making disgusted noises because it’s just based on some dude writing the words and it sticking, no actual clarification as to why

Nope, no proper origin to this idiom either. Enraging. I am Julius in this matter.

His dad insists on driving, saying it’s because Jared will be distracted, but actually because he’s a control freak who can’t handle not driving himself. Jared doesn’t fight it — he doesn’t know the area around the lake house at all, and if they get lost his dad will be unnervingly backseat stressed about it — but the fact that Julius gets dibs on the front seat, because ‘he’s a guest’, in Jared’s car, on Jared’s wedding day?

Jared sulks in the backseat, bags stacked between him and Erin like a barricade.

Shades of the blanket already. The brother Jared never had.

Elaine meets them outside, steering them towards the main house — apparently Bryce is getting ready in the bunk house, and Jared is very tempted to like, cut and run in that direction. It’s dumb. He’ll see him in three hours. He’s still considering it. “Don’t even think about it,” Elaine says cheerfully, apparently wise to Jared.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Jared protests.

“Bryce made that exact face when we heard your car pull in,” Elaine says. “Gail and my mom have him covered, and Gordie’s been instructed to stop you at the door by any means necessary.”

Do not mistake Elaine’s kindness for weakness.

“Wait, are there bigger rooms than this?” Jared asks. Because if so, this place is insane: this room’s the size of their living room and dining room combined. Maybe Bryce was right that Jared would be annoyed by how big it is — stupid thing to be annoyed by, considering how many people need to stay over, but there’s big and then there’s obnoxiously big.

It is nice and Jared is annoyed, just as Bryce predicted.

How’re you feeling? Jared texts.

pretty great get to marry the love of my life today, Bryce says

Bryce.

“Yeah, me too,” Erin says. “But it’s a pretty dress, so.”

Cue another twirl.

With a dress that swishy, you gotta twirl -- Erin is only doing what is necessary.

“Honey,” she says. “There’s going to be crying today. You’re probably going to cry today.”

He refuses.

“Bryce has already cried at least three times already,” Elaine says. Oh god. Every time Bryce cries Jared wants to cry. This is going to be a disaster.

Jared often stubbornly believes things despite evidence to the contrary, but I continue to have no idea how he thought he would get through his wedding day without crying.

There are going to be many matching PJs in his life, won’t there? He can’t even bring himself to mind.

It’s gonna get REAL cute with three generations in the same pjs.

“Wait, you gave Erin the rings?” Jared asks. “Why does Erin have our rings?”

“Because I’m maid of honour,” Erin says, with a little eyeroll like ‘duh’. “I’m standing up there with you, so I get the rings.”

“Do not do something to them,” Jared says. “Don’t — pretend you’ve lost them, or drop them, or—”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Erin says, sounding almost hurt.

Jared does not believe her.

“I wouldn’t do that to Bryce,” Erin adds.

Bryce is the brother ERIN never had. Because her brother is much worse than Bryce.

“When have you even tied bow ties?” Jared asks.

“Haven’t since my own wedding, but I looked it up on YouTube just in case you needed the help,” his dad says. “Now quit talking, I’m focusing.”

“Okay,” Jared says, and it looks pretty good after the third time his dad subjects him to a ‘wait, fuck, I’m trying again’.

“Don’t tell your mom I fixed your bow tie,” his dad says. “She looked it up on YouTube too, and she even bought one to practice with, she’ll be annoyed with herself.”

This right here encapsulates the Mathesons. A lot of snark and plenty of faults, but these hobgoblins love one another a lot. (Also randomly sneaky about their kindness because can't be obvious about their loving acts, how embarrassing.)

His mom wipes his eyes for him. “I did a really good job on that bow tie,” she says, sounding pleased.

“A great job,” Jared says, and bites down a smile when his dad gives him a thumbs up behind her back.

<3 Mathesons.

108 - Impaired Judgment (and other excuses for falling in love)

I’ve said it before, but this was the original title of the series, shortened for a few reasons (mostly brevity), and it felt right to use it for this part.

“Your dad spent the entire morning of our wedding day convinced I wasn’t going to show up,” his mom says. “You’re doing fine.”

“I didn’t really think that,” his dad mutters. “It was just a possibility.” If Jared was marrying literally anyone else, that’d probably bring the freak out to a new height, except it’s Bryce, so it doesn’t.

Seriously, can you imagine Bryce not following through with it? I can’t. Jared can’t. Dude’s cried with joy three times today in the presence of his mom alone. Nothing could get him to miss this.

Chaz does this goofy salute at him when Jared glances over the crowd of people ready to witness the inevitable mortification, and Jared smiles back weakly.

The person unironically referring to his time at the altar as ‘inevitable mortification’ does not get to call other people goofy.

“I’m not hugging you,” Erin says, when his dad finally lets go.

“Didn’t ask you to,” Jared says, which apparently is the permission Erin needs to hug him.

It’s like he doesn’t know her at all. Of course that’s the permission. Also: every time Erin and Jared hug my grinchy heart grows two sizes.

Jared looks over, sees Elaine and Bryce coming out of the back door of the bunk house, their hair glinting gold in the summer light and Bryce’s tux tailored perfectly, some full on James Bond suave shit going on, and Jared just — he gets to marry him.

We have TWO soppy ass dudes in this relationship, I don’t care what Jared says.

Who would dare pointed cough at him in the middle of his wedding? It’s probably a Matheson. Or Julius. Jared bets it was fucking Julius.

Chaz had a ticklish throat, sorry for LIVING.

Who let Jared open his mouth, holy shit. Someone stop him.

An excellent summary of Jared’s vows and also Jared’s life.

“I was such an angry person when I met you,” Bryce says. “Angry, and unhappy, and not — I didn’t want to be who I was. I didn’t like me. I didn’t like pretty much anyone. But god I liked you. And I wanted you to like me back so bad. And somehow you did, even though I wasn’t someone who even close to deserved you. And my biggest goal since I met you has been to become someone who does. And I don’t think I’m there yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be, but I promise you that’s going to continue to be something I strive towards every single day for the rest of my life.”

Bryce Marcus in his feelings is my number one kryptonite, and it got me good again.

He shakes his head, because he knows Bryce worked on it. Draft after draft, probably, trying to articulate his feelings for Jared, managing to land on the most devastating words possible, because he’s devastating in the best way possible.

Jared inhales, exhales, tries to get his breathing under control. Bryce waits for him to try to put himself together, and if Jared hadn’t been sure he wanted to marry him before this — and obviously he was pretty fucking sure — that would have done it, all by itself.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.

109 - Wedded Bliss

“Have a great season, guys,” she says, and Jared’s all panicky, suddenly, wondering if she’s a fan, which team she’s a fan of, before realising like — maybe she is a fan, maybe she isn’t, no way to know. If he was her, signing a non-disclosure agreement, he’d be immediately looking up the names if he didn’t recognise them, wondering what made an NDA necessary in the first place. And even if she is a fan, she’s not going to snitch; like, she signed a binding contract that would open her up to being sued for everything she’s worth, and also she’d probably lose her marriage licence…thing or whatever.

Besides, no Flames fan would be able to tell an Oiler to have a great season with a straight face.

Jared going through all the possibilities before stating the obvious.

(This reminds me of a fun fact I learned recently: in a map showing most hated teams by state and province, Alberta’s most hated team? The Calgary Flames. Meanwhile the Boston Bruins has all of Eastern Canada and two of three territories, for the largest geographical spread, good work dudes.)

“No one’s going to look at a picture of you standing alone in a tux and say, ‘hey, he must have been getting married to a man who plays for his rival team’,” his mom says dryly, which — fair point.

I mean…

“Bear, come here for a sec? I need a favour,” Elaine says, and Bryce immediately stops mid-conversation with Chaz and Ash and trots over, like the momma’s boy he is. Ridiculous.

Jared blinks when Elaine’s phone goes off. “Much better,” she says. “Thanks, honey.”

“I didn’t —” Bryce says, sounding confused, and Jared shrugs at him.

Elaine knows all the tricks. Jared’s smile went from strained to soppy watching that jog.

But, then, fuck it. He doesn’t need excuses. They’re literally all at his and Bryce’s wedding, who’s going to complain about a little kissing?

“Hey,” Bryce says, wrapping an arm around him when he comes over, mouth surprised against Jared’s when he kisses him, but only for a second before he’s kissing back.

“Okay, no,” Erin says. “Stop.”

Erin. Erin will complain about a little kissing. (They're so happy they get to kiss in front of PEOPLE. While OUTSIDE. Downright giddy.)

Also, Jared is pretty sure at a normal wedding, him and Bryce would get first crack at the food, but nope, he’s got to wait in line like everyone else even though he’s starving. Julius won’t let Jared butt in front of him, all ‘just because you’re married now doesn’t make you special’. Julius is the fucking worst. Jared can’t believe he even invited him.

I’ve said it before, but: truly the friend Jared deserves.

“So Jared’s like ‘I’ve never hated someone more in my life’ and ‘what a stupid flashy car Bryce Marcus has, don’t you hate Bryce too, Raf, I hate him so much that I can’t stop talking about him’ and ‘how dare Bryce Marcus say a single word to me, doesn’t he realise how much I loathe him, that handsome bane of my existence’, and he’s blushing bright red every time Bryce walks within ten feet of us, and—”

IJ(aoe), Act I: a summary.

“You didn’t bring lube?” Bryce says.

“No?” Jared says.

“You forgot lube?” Bryce hisses.

From comedy to tragedy.

Jared has to get up to hit the lights — they played rock-paper-scissors for it and Bryce lost but then he looked so dejected Jared got up anyway

True love right there.

“Thanks for marrying me,” Bryce murmurs.

There are so, so many sarcastic responses on Jared’s tongue. So many. And Jared’s sure that Bryce is expecting one, wouldn’t mind, would probably even laugh. But like. He doesn’t want to say any of them. And if there’s any time he can be like, unselfconsciously sappy, he thinks his wedding night probably qualifies.

“It was my privilege,” Jared says, cheeks heating anyway, because apparently nope, there is no time that he can be unselfconsciously sappy up to and including his wedding night, but the smile on Bryce’s face, small and sweet and almost shy, the way it lingers when Jared kisses him, well, it’s worth any embarrassment Jared feels.

They’re so gross, I love them.

110 - Refuge

And they order Thai from their usual place, but Jared doesn’t know if the orders got swapped or someone was new or not paying attention or what, because his usual order is his usual order, except there’s shrimp instead of chicken in his noodles and he can smell shellfish the second he opens his soup, and Bryce is ridiculous when he calls them back, all ‘how can you not see ‘shellfish allergy’ in the notes’ and ‘do you want to kill him?’, like Jared would actually die and not just be moderately to severely uncomfortable if he ate it, which he hadn’t.

Jared is right on the verge of telling Bryce how ridiculous he is when he remembers his dad’s pre-wedding advice, and he bites his tongue and lets Bryce take care of it, even if Bryce’s version of taking care of it is a total overreaction.

Bryce is PROTECTING HIS MAN. And look at Jared listening to his dad’s advice.

There’s a tiny part of Jared that’s faintly appalled he hasn’t left the house for days, hasn’t put on a shirt in just as long — Bryce has offered to be the one to get dressed every time they order food

Bryce transparently wanting to be the provider. Also not wanting Jared to put any clothes on.

“So hey,” Bryce says. He’s trying to make it sound casual, but it doesn’t, and Jared squints up at him suspiciously.

"I want us to keep wearing our wedding rings,” Bryce says.

Bryce being the initiatior of the first step of many that leads to their eventual outing. (I mean, the wedding would also count, but these rings get scrutinized at the time and then down the line).

“You’re worth like, everything,” Bryce says. “You know that, right?” Jared presses his face tighter against Bryce’s shirt, Bryce’s thumb tracing the heated shell of his ear.

Oh kids.

“So you’re okay with it?” Bryce says.

“If you stop saying nice things to me for like, at least an hour,” Jared says. “Then okay.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bryce says solemnly.

“Okay,” Jared says.

“I love you,” Bryce says.

“Bryce!” Jared says.

“That’s not a nice thing, that’s just like, a fact,” Bryce says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jared says, then commences to pull Bryce’s shirt up and stick his head under it, because the only way Jared can maintain the absolute fiction that he’s not blushing is to hide his face.

Jared would protest vociferously, but: he is adorable.

Bryce sacks out early that night, exhausted from his day of lounging around the couch and like, complimenting Jared too much. Jared’s half tempted to poke him awake to just like, not have the honeymoon end yet, but that’s mean. He looks so peaceful, Jared can’t do that to him.

Jared’s a place Bryce can rest, and he takes that role seriously.

[graceofagodswrath]

Transformers x Humans Are Space Orcs - A Rant

Alright, I’m gonna complain about something I don’t see talked about enough. Maybe I haven’t found the people who do, so if you know em point me in their direction.

Transformers. I’ve been a long time fan. I’ve watched G1, Animated, Prime, Bayverse, RID, Rescue, WFC, and read all of MTMTE/LL, and I’m excited for the upcoming Earthspark. Course that’s only half if not less of all the content, but enough to prove I’m a fan. Love the characters and world building.

But unfortunately, the majority of not all the Transformers canon content suffers from one major factor that is common among entertainment featuring non-human beings: half-assed human characters. Humans described as wimpy little shits (except Agent Fowler from TFP that man has my eternal respect and love).

Usually the only reason human characters are inserted is to create a relatable character for viewers. But the majority of characters are already relatable, so it’s a moot concept I think we can all accept.

But I cannot for the life of me understand why one would have to give up a realistic, interesting personality for a human character, but give the non-human characters everything. Just take the human characters out for fucks sake!

If you’ve read my other posts, you’re aware I’m an avid lover of Humans are Space Orcs. This community is amazing at digging up mundane or strange facts about humans and turning those into shorts centered around terrifying aliens. That’s what I have always wanted to see in a Transformers story.

I hate the constant “don’t step on them, they’re squishy, gross organics, small and fragile, protect like little cute worm” shit. I’m so tired of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware there are some badass human character sim the Transformers canon. But they are so far and few, and even then Transformers characters never give them their due.

And that is a main theme in the entire canon. Technoism, I think it’s called. Racism between inorganic and organic species. It’s a very real and moving part of the plot that I love and hate for its realism. Something that always gets me is how even the Transformers characters that are closest with humans (Bumblebee, Optimus Prime, Jazz, etc) still seem to treat humans like little primitive puppies that need their constant protection (this is more prominent in IDW than the more pg shows). And the human personalities don’t help.

The point I’m trying to make is, I want to see Transformers reacting to humans the same way we write aliens reacting to humans. Being confused, scared, in awe or disgust. If someone else doesn’t write it, I will.

Eventually.

I want Megatron to actually recognize humans as a threat. I want him to freak the fuck out when he sees what we can do. I want Optimus Prime to feel a little fear at some human tearing apart a transformer. Somehow.

One idea I’ve always loved is a scenario where a human is mass displaced to be just as big as an average Cybertronian. And they kick ass. They go absolute apeshit like I wrote a character going apeshit over his cat. I want to see transformers understanding just how lethal humans are when you pick on a bitch your own size.

If I get enough requests to do it, I might write it. But I’ve started so much other shit I need to continue, oh mah lawd. I don’t care. I needed to rant.

Thx for coming to my Ted talk.

[chloeangelic]

Pls write SUBJECT and description only sentences for a group orgy. You, me, & @toxicanonymity with my mm!joel.

Nice big group fuck. I feel like he needs this to boost his self esteem. And so help me god if you don’t fully direct every single thing that’s happening… 🫵🏼=👊🏼

I love you so fucking much

Hi Gracie, I hope this is sufficient.

Cheers, Chloe

Maintenance man!Joel group bang with special guests 

Pairing: @gracieispunk x @toxicanonymity x Chloe Angelic x maintenance man!Joel x Father Joel x Lincoln!Joel x f!reader 

Warnings: This is garbage just don't read it if you don’t wanna see a shitty blasphemous 6some, idk what to tell you anymore. I promise this is my second to last satire fic until I hit 2k.

Word count: 1k 18+ 

You’re hanging out with three of your friends; Toxic, Gracie, and Chloe. They are all giving you ideas for your fics. They all think you should write infidelity, you were thinking something more along the lines of fluffy flirting with your dad’s best friend. They think it might be a bit tame. Chloe thinks you should make him cry at some point in the fic, she's clearly in a bit of an angst phase. You think Toxic and Gracie are more fun.

Gracie downs the last of her wine and says “We’re all horny sluts and I have an idea”.  She goes over to her kitchen sink and yanks on it until it breaks. She picks up her phone and calls the maintenance man. That’s Joel Miller. She says “Joel, I know it’s ten PM but my sink broke because I am a little slut and I need you to come over and fix it or else I will report you to the building manager as being not very helpful to me, a damsel in distress”. She hangs up. 

Joel shows up wearing a tool belt and he is fully dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans and a wedding ring because he’s married. “Well, well, well” Gracie says and takes him by the hand to leads him into the living room where there is a massive California king bed. There’s also a stripper pole in the middle of the room, and now Chloe’s self indulgent fics about pole dancing make sense to you. 

Unfortunately, Gracie’s sink is indeed broken now so you all have to sit in silence and watch as maintenance man Joel huffs and puffs and fixes the sink. “I’m was planning on leavin' after this,” he says, “But now you’re all naked and annoying and my cock is hard again so I have no choice but to fuck all of you little sluts”. Everyone cheers and claps. You can’t believe it, you thought he only existed in Gracie’s fics and now you get to fuck him IRL. 

A shadow appears in the hallway. Toxic shouts, “Hey, get back to the brothel! You don’t belong in this crossover!”. The shadow is gone. You don’t know who it was, although Chloe says she hopes it was Lincoln Joel because he looks hot and she’s had a bit of a weird crush on him ever since she saw a fanart of him with slicked back hair and a white t-shirt, but he is ultimately very creepy so she doesn’t think that would be a great idea. However, maybe fucking him with supervision would be okay. You both mentally move on. 

Maintenance man Joel takes off his pants and his above average sized cock is on full display. All four of you take turns sucking and fucking him and the whole ordeal is pretty gross when you think about it since there is spit and cum everywhere. 

Maintenance man Joel is overwhelmed to say the least. He is watching Chloe stripping while fucking Gracie who is going down on Toxic while you ride her face. You didn’t think the logistics of this would work but here you are. 

There’s a knock on the door and a man comes in, announcing his presence. 

Oh no, it’s Father Joel. Chloe forgot she invited him over. 

“Damn it, Father Joel,” she says, “I forgot I invited you over and now we’re having a group fuck and we need an extra dick so maybe it’s convenient that you showed up cause you’re a corrupt freak with a massive cock”. 

Father Joel stands in the middle of the living room while Chloe takes a break to drink some water and he takes off his pants to reveal his absolutely enormous cock. Maintenance man Joel rolls his eyes; Toxic and Gracie are all very interested in Father Joel all of a sudden. Chloe thinks that this is her chance to finally eat her leftover gluten free lasagna and says “I hate Father Joel anyways so please take him” and he loves the attention. 

Gracie gets on her knees in front of Father Joel and says “Please, Father, give me that dick”. Then he slaps her on the face with his cock and gives her a communion cracker. It doesn’t taste like much. Then she sucks his dick. 

You get on maintenance man Joel’s lap and start bouncing on his cock and asking how to stop your closet doors from jumping out of their tracks. He starts explaining and it’s incredibly boring but useful information.

Chloe and Toxic are looking at each other like “What the fuck” and Toxic says “You know what? Fuck it, let’s get the party started” and takes her phone out of her pants on the floor and calls someone to come over. 

The door opens again. It’s Lincoln Joel. He’s wearing the white t-shirt. Chloe is nervous but horny. 

Toxic says “You’re welcome, he’s fucking creepy as hell and I wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole but I understand that’s how you feel about Father Joel, it is what it is” then goes over to Gracie, who is now riding Father Joel’s face, and gets on his dick so that they are now having a threesome. Everyone is sucking and riding and moaning and sweating and they are definitely going to get a noise complaint. Maintenance man Joel says “What the hell have I gotten myself into here, I thought I was just messing around with one annoying tenant who keeps calling me and now I am watching a threesome with an ordained priest”. 

Chloe isn’t sure what to do, this doesn’t seem like Lincoln Joel’s scene. He says, “Chloe, there’s a priest here, I think it’s best if we get married before we do anything”. Chloe says ok. Father Joel recites the entire marriage speech that priests give and he says “You may now kiss the bride”. Lincoln kisses Chloe and they go to the bedroom. Then they fuck as well and she’s enjoying the thrill but is also a little bit concerned that she is now legally Catholically married to this old man. Whatever.

Maintenance man Joel blows his load inside you and says he has to go home. You both leave and listen to the wet slapping sounds of the Joels and writers who are still fucking and sucking and riding. He drives you home in his truck and says you never saw him in that sin filled establishment, do you understand?

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 14

Sorry about Sunday's empty post ☹️ I must've accidentally put a draft template in my queue because I am basically tired and rubbish and life isn’t the greatest right now. Anyhow.... Whoops and really sorry again!

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Eddie POV

When neither Steve nor Robin show up after ten minutes, Eddie begins to freak out. 

He, Hopper and El are still waiting for the car, out of sight among some ferns. Hopper’s getting antsy, muttering beneath his breath, while Eddie’s wriggling like he’s got ants in his pants. Which he genuinely might have, though that’s not what’s bugging him:

“Uuuuh, shall I see what’s taking them so long?”

“You do that,” says Hopper. “What’s going on with that guy? He could barely stand! How the hell could he…”

Eddie tunes out, retracing their journey into the trees, calling Robin’s name then Steve’s. Maybe Steve passed out, and Robin got lost searching? Somehow, he doesn’t buy it. A heaviness slows his feet, and his guts twist sourly. 

They wouldn’t just ditch him. Surely? Surely!?! 

Fifteen minutes later, he winds up where he started: “They’re not back?” 

“What do you reckon?” Hopper’s breathing hard and red in the face. Evidently, he’s been running in circles like Eddie has.

“This is for you.” El nudges Eddie and presses a scrap of paper into his hand. “I think Steve left it.”

“What? Where?” Eddie’s stomach clamps tight again. 

Her eyes stretch very wide. “Fell out of your pack.”

Turning the note over in his hands, his fingers stiffen, as if shrinking from the task, bracing for… something. In the event, he gets a literal slap around the face.

“You make me sick,” Steve wrote.

Eddie’s skin burns with the blow. Wow! This is why I never have and never freakin’ will write love songs.

“What does he say?” demands Hopper.

Eddie scans the note one more time, scrunches it in his fist. “I’d hazard a guess he’s gone back to Hawkins.”

“Goddammit! Robin’s gone with him?”

“I think that’s a safe bet.” A wobble in the back of Eddie’s throat finds its way into his voice. Because, boy, is he still processing.

You make me sick. 

What does that even mean? To be fair, Eddie did make Steve sick. More than once. But why the heck write… that. Would suck less to be dumped without a word. 

Thanks for the overkill, man.

“Don’t you even think about scooting off,” growls Hopper. “Your uncle would never forgive me.” 

Oh yeah. Wayne. The only person who ever actually cared about him.

Eddie plonks his butt down on the ground and waits for the car.

…

Steve POV

“C’mon, giddy up,” says Steve. He and Robin make their way along the muddy bank of the stream towards home.

“Is this some kind of race?” she asks. “While I’d forgotten your former life as a douchebag jock, you’re doing a stunning job of reminding me, and… Uuuuugh!” 

“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong this time?” He spirals about, plants his hands on his hips—he’d ditched the sling a while ago. 

She scrubs madly at her lips. “I swallowed a bug! Ugh, ugh, ugh, mega-gross. Eeeeurgh!”

“Maybe if you weren’t complaining, like, constantly, there’d be less opportunities for bugs to get in.” 

“You shut up, shit-bird! I could die of malaria.” She spits into the stream. “Ew! EEEEEEEW!” 

“Ssssh! Hop said the military will be crawling everywhere soon, or—”

“Eddie might hear?” His heart heaves a loaded thud. She looks back sharply, purses her lips. “You know, he could be lost in the wilderness, all alone. Being hunted by evil army thugs. Or bears! Did you think of that when you sauntered off?”

“I did, yeah. I left him a message saying not to follow.” He shades his face from the afternoon sunlight, which shafts between the trees. Also, he can’t look her straight on and say this: “It was kinda brutal, I guess. It was for his own good, right?”

“Oh. Riiiight.”

“You done spewing insects?” he snaps.

“Still heavily grossed-out here. Gimme a minute, ’kay?” She plonks herself on a rock, crumpling forward.

He mops his brow, strips his sweater, and takes the opportunity to check in on his bat bites. They’re still sore, the bandages a bit bloody. Nothing too fresh, though. For the billionth time, his thoughts fly back to Eddie. He hopes Eddie doesn’t get hurt and need healing while they’re apart, and… Holy shit, will he ever see him again? He ties his sweater around his hips, trying to make fumbling hands look casual.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Other than the fact I’m modelling a ‘shoot-me-now-why don’t-you?’ Hellfire Club t-shirt,”—and that I want to punch myself in the face about that moronic note—“I’m good, Robin.”

“You know what? I don’t doubt it.” She brushes her flyaway hair from suspicious eyes. “You’ve gone from death’s door to super-human speed in, oh, I don’t know—feels to me that we’ve been marching for a week. I think it’s been barely an hour.”

“Yeah? We got a long way to go then.” He starts off along the stream’s edge, forcibly slowing his pace. He senses her puffing, panting, then following on his heels.

“Look, Steve, this water goddess who’s pulling you back, whispering in your ear—”

“I can’t actually tell if they’re male or female. Does that matter?”

“Not in the slightest. So, your water… deity. Have they, by any chance, enlightened you as to some kind of divine plan? Or told you exactly where you’re heading?” 

“I got an idea where I’m going, yeah.” To the second place he died, swept away on that blood-red tide—even now, he sees it in his head, like a few frames of a horror VHS stuck on eternal repeat. “Where’s the best place for army generals with dodgy agendas to hang out in Hawkins? There’s never been an army base, apart from—”

“You’re kidding me?” She grabs his elbow, jerking him back. “The Soviet tunnels?” He nods, and her obvious dread has her dropping him like a stone. “No way! I don’t think I can go anywhere near without a major panic attack."

“I’m not gonna march straight in.” He’s already wandering on. Trouble is, now he’s said the idea out loud, it’s become real and terrible. And he’s gotta pretend like his blood’s not congealing to ice. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get in anyhow. I mean, the Starcourt lift is buried under a ton of rubble. I think Hop might’ve know other ways—”

“Oooh, I got a great idea. Let’s go back and ask him.”

“Yeah, real subtle.”

“Steve!” She seizes him again, twisting him around with a furious force. “I know you want to help El, but what can you ACTUALLY DO?” He shrugs before he can stop himself. “Rain? Lightning? How does that benefit us—especially in underground tunnels? Plus you’ve had literally zero time for practice. If we don’t slow down and come up with a decent plan, this is tantamount to suicide.”

“We? Seriously, Robin, I…” His teeth clamp his lower lip. Any moment now, he’ll tell her how terrified he is, how he really, really doesn’t want to get tortured again, let alone die; how the idea of anything bad happening to her is as frightening as any of it. “I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Steve,” she says, gentler now, though her grip gouges into his flesh. “It’s screamingly obvious you’re not thinking straight. You’ve been ill for days and now you’re in a funk, beating yourself up over Eddie.”

He yanks himself free, glares. “That doesn’t make any dif—"

“Bullshit! Trust me, however ‘mean boy’ your literary masterpiece got, Eddie won’t want you to do anything this dumb. Oh, and your resident gender-fluid angel saved your life. They’re not gonna want you to sacrifice it pointlessly.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. He laughs—not a particularly happy laugh, but not totally miserable either. “You win,” he says, kinda sagging with relief. “You got a plan, smarty-pants?”

She laughs with him, equally edgy. “I say we go to Lover’s Lake, wait till it’s dark. If that’s too dangerous, we find some hidden pool where you can practise whatever badass moves you think you got. Hopefully without the puking. It’ll be a bit like Band Camp. But for Magic. Magic Camp. Okay?”

“You really aren’t gonna be happy until I’m a bigger nerd that any of… Shit!” 

He’s been considering hugging her. Instead, he seizes her sleeve, dragging her down into a deep, wet gully. They land with a splash, crouching low, close. She doesn’t complain, because she’s heard what he has.

The distant sound of barking dogs. Likely, army search dogs.

“Dog barks travel for miles, huh?” he whispers.

“Possibly.” She sucks in a scared breath. “One thing for sure—those sniffy wet snouts can pick up a human scent from the next county.”

“We’re in a stream, Robin. They can’t pick up our scent here, right?”

She crinkles her nose, dubious. “Dogs’ sense of smell is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope this bunch caught colds or something.” 

He’s now the one clutching her way too tight, and he half-wishes he’d ditched her with a bitchy note too. Though, not quite. She smart; he needs her, and she’s really has gotten him thinking clearer: 

“We head for Lover’s Lake. C’mon.”

…

Eddie POV

When the sound of the car engine finally reaches his hearing, Eddie feels almost nothing.

“Don’t move.” Hopper pitches Eddie a forbidding look and grabs El, keeping them low behind the ferns. 

An owl hoots. Despite the hollowness in his chest, Eddie silently cracks up. Seriously? Top secret government goons can’t think of a better signal than me and Robin? 

Hopper’s grip slides to the firearm at his side. He rises slowly. “Over here.”

Peeping between the foliage, Eddie can make out a limo-style saloon with blacked-out windows. A severe-faced woman in lethal stilettos climbs out. “Chief Hopper, I presume? I apologise for the delay. O’Sullivan’s got men everywhere. We must leave right away.”

Hopper, nevertheless, remains stood well off the road with Eleven, not rushing for the car. And Eddie? 

You make me sick.

Steve’s made it simple for him. He should cut his losses and take this chance of escape. Wayne would want him to. Apart from… Eddie literally can’t. What was it that Steve said? Oh yeah. That he was being stretched in the wrong direction. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, I’m feelin’ it, Stevie. 

Nothing supernatural, nothing hinky. You kill me that bad, Babe—even after you turned meanie-King-Steve and dumped me. Oh, and went back to goddamn Mordor without me! 

Gonna trust you had your reasons, and I’m coming anyway.

He turns on his dirt-clotted heels and flees as fast as he can.

Part 15

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

[kindheart525]

Dorothy Dompler really gets around. She’s very popular among the menfolk and very adventurous, always eager to put herself out there and try new things if you catch my drift. She’s not one to break hearts, but her many romances and flings add up to the point where there’s hardly a man in east Pennsylvania (or all of New Jersey) who doesn’t know her. Most of the guys she brings home to her parents are strangers to them, except for one familiar face.

Meet Dorian! The lovely little homunculus that Professor Daniel Psychotic created and raised alongside his brother Doug. You know the story. And so does Charlie Dompler, who can’t stop thinking about that freaky day every time he looks at the guy. He’s all grown up now, but he still looks like that freak of nature who crawled all raw and slimy out of a chicken egg. The little creature who sucked Doug’s toes during his first minute of life and is now sucking Dottie’s toes every day.

Zoey believes in giving Dorian a chance as he makes Dottie very happy and has done nothing to hurt her or anyone else. Charlie can see that, yes, but that’s not going to make him like him. He can’t explain why, as Dottie has had plenty of even weirder boyfriends who didn’t make him feel this deeply disturbed. It’s just a personal thing.

“I watched his birth Zoey. Like, like I watched him come out of an egg, all slimy and raw and shit, a-and I can’t stop thinking of that every time I look at him.”

“You watched Dottie be born? Did you think that was gross?”

“No no no that’s different it’s totally not the same at all it’s just…he stresses me out Zoey I can’t believe our kid is dating him.”

Unfortunately for Charlie, Dorian is going to stick around for awhile. The initial relationship only lasts for a few months before he and Dottie part ways, but he keeps coming back. Sometimes it’s every few months and sometimes there are even years between their meetings, long enough for Dottie to go through the ups and downs of many flings and several long-term romances, but when they’re both single fate keeps drawing them right back together. Nobody’s really sure what Dottie sees in him outside of…certain bedroom antics, but she’s happy to have Dorian around and that’s what matters.

[raisedbythetv89]

Rob Thomas:

Duncan wouldn’t sleep with Kendall because he’s a good guy! Veronica trusts him so she never needed to ask him about it!

Me:

First of all accusing people of doing bad things is basically like Veronica saying I love you because the more she cares about you the more scared she is you’ll disappoint her so it’s not that she actually trusted Duncan she just don’t give a fuck about that boy😹

Second…. Rob is giving major “I can excuse racism but I draw the line at animal cruelty” like Duncan IS the type of man who ghosts his girlfriend who’s best friends with his sister and who he still see’s every day because he’s too much of a coward to just be honest and face hard truths or rather FIND OUT hard truths. SA’s the girl he thinks is his SISTER (like having Duncan on drugs too doesn’t absolve him of anything when he had JUST said Veronica could barely stand and had a perfectly fine recollection of that night) like Duncan still having romantic feelings towards Veronica after being told she’s his sister is beyond gross and creepy like it literally made Veronica puke immediately upon realizing which is the only appropriate reaction to that news 😹 he hulk smashes a car because Logan is dating the girl he thinks is his sister and who he dumped over a year ago at this point - like EW YIKES GROSS WHY WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU BRO. Also just how he vs Logan react to Veronica’s accusations aka her insecurities and fears that she needs reassurance about - Duncan always freaks out and yells at her or completely ices her out which is not very “good guy” of him at all like innocent people don’t react like that 😭

But no he would neeeevvvveeerrr cheat but he WILL hide that he’s gonna be a dad with his ex girlfriend who he’s basically been feeling conflicted about their entire relationship and literally viewing Veronica as the “bad girl girlfriend” option and Meg as the precious perfect angel.

OH YES ROB WHAT A GREAT GUY

*sigh* 99% of men, especially in tv and movie writing truly have NO IDEA what an actual good guy looks like 😭and I’m TIRED. Tired of them blaming women loving “bad boys” and having “bad taste” when actually the bad boys are almost always the better men and the “good guys” basically have the personality of narcissistic abusers or serial killers. He seems nice but if you pay even a little bit of attention it’s obvious it’s all an act.

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sister Lovers, Water Brothers

Chapter Three: The Clock Starts

Masterlist

Steve wasn’t happy with the way Munson was treating one of his kids. So unhappy in fact, that he forces himself into their club leader’s van to see what he’s getting up to with Chrissy Cunningham, and maybe it’s a good thing he’s so paranoid because it might just save her life.

Or, the one where Chrissy doesn’t die in the Munson trailer, and, despite the world-ending, the king(former) and queen(current) of Hawkins High cannot take their eyes off Eddie Munson

Read on AO3

Lucas didn’t know why he decided to stay another night at Benny’s, but that’s where he woke up. The old diner was empty when Lucas sat up on the old mattress, but he could hear voices out in the parking lot. He groaned as he pulled himself up to a standing position, his back sore from the way he slept. Lucas couldn’t help but feel gross at the idea of being in his dirty clothes still. More than a day old and without a proper shower everything about him felt grimy. He’d be relieved to finally get into his own house soon.

Outside he found Jason, Andy, and Patrick loading up the back of Jason’s 4-Runner with seemingly random items.

“Well well,” Andy said, waving around a heavy  pipe wrench, “Look who’s decided to join us.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Lucas asked, confused as to what was happening.

“We’re gearing up,” Patrick said, tossing a heavy canvas bag into the open trunk.

“Preparing for the hunt,” Andy added, lifting the pipe wrench above his head like it was obvious.

Lucas immediately knew this was bad news. He was used to demogorgons and mind flayers and supernatural violence, but this made him sick. The only other time he had ever seen anyone near his age act like this was when Billy came for them, for him, and one of those two times he wasn’t even human anymore.

“Hey man, relax,” Jason stepped in, clocking Lucas’s nerves immediately, and placed a hand on Lucas’s shoulder, “We’re not killers like Eddie. We just want to talk to him, get him to admit his crime.”

“Yeah, a little friendly neighborhood chat,” Andy added, with a smile that made Lucas want to curl up or run away or hit him.

“Hey, you didn’t know Anne,” Jason said, turning serious, “if you’re not up to this, you can go home. There’s no judgment. You’ll still be one of us, alright?

At this moment, Lucas knew he didn’t want to be one of them anymore. He even wished he had ditched the game to play at Hellfire. But he also knew that he had an opportunity here to help his friend. He knew enough about Eddie that he was sure he could throw these boys, who he used to consider friends, off his trail. Maybe not forever, but long enough to buy Eddie some time.

“No. I’m good,” Lucas nodded, hoping his lying wasn’t obvious, “I want to help.”

“Alright,” Jason didn’t seem to see through him, he patted Lucas on the shoulder and turned back to his car, “Let’s capture us a freak!”

*

Everyone was up the next morning, anxiously waiting for something to happen. Steve could only keep them under his thumb for so long, and now the kids were demanding they all pile into the back of Eddie’s van and go check out the crime scene. Eddie himself wasn’t helping either, the guy wanted to see his uncle and a change of clothes but was unwilling to even consider the options in Steve's closet.

“Fine!” Steve relented after Robin also joined in on the begging, “But we’re not taking that death trap in my garage.” Eddie raised his arms placating,

“Saves me the gas.”

“And you two are staying here,” he told Max and Dustin. The declaration was met with disappointed whines, but Steve had made up his mind. “It is an active crime scene guys. Both attacks from this Vecna guy happened at the trailer park, I’m not bringing you.” Before Dustin could continue to complain, Chrissy spoke up,

“I’ll stay here too. If it’s connected to the location I probably shouldn’t go back.” Steve shrugged in agreement, and Robin patted her on the shoulder, before there was a lull in conversation. Steve wasn’t used to getting the kid to agree to anything that easily. Dustin started to open his mouth but Eddie stepped between him and Max with a hand clasped on each of their shoulders.

“Lord Harrington has spoken,” he declared in a cartoonishly official voice, “Don’t burn down the castle.” Then with a reassuring smile back towards Chrissy he shoved his way out the door to be the first one in the car, Robin and Steve close behind him.

As they rolled up to Eddie’s trailer, they were surprised to see one Nancy Wheeler standing by the picnic tables. Even from a distance the irritation around her eyes was clear, she had been crying for hours. Steve killed the engine and rushed out of the car over to her. He was relieved to see her, to no longer feel like everyone was looking to him for answers.

“Nancy? What’s going on? Why are you-”

“You need to get out of here,” She cut him off, her gaze focused on Eddie where he was getting out of the back seat.

“What?”

“Munson, get him out of here. Are you kidding me?” Nancy hissed, running away from Steve to shove Eddie bodily back into the car. “The cops they’re… they’re looking for Fred, but they’re mostly looking for him,” She frantically explained, pointing at Eddie hunched in the back seat of Steve’s car. “I’m serious, I don't have time to explain, just-” Nancy was cut off by the screech of the Munson’s screen door as Wayne stepped outside. Seeing his uncle, Eddie tried to shove past her, but Steve stood in his way. “No!” she shouted, frantically looking around, then evenly. “No, look, with Anne dead and two kids missing, You’re their scapegoat, Munson. So get the hell out of here before the cops get back.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed easily, trying to mediate. He held up a hand, asking Eddie to reason, and asked, “Okay?” He hated asking Eddie for this, could see the hurt in his eyes as he tracked his uncle desperate to go to him.

“Yeah, fine,” he huffed, sinking further into the back seat not meeting either of their eyes and instead watching where his uncle was tapping a cigarette out of his pack on their doorstep.

Just as quickly as they arrived, Steve was peeling back out of the trailer park, Nancy hanging back to wait for news on Fred.

Once they were out of sight, Nancy turned back to where Wayne was watching her, nervously fidgeting with his lighter.

“Ms. Wheeler,” he greeted her, eyes flicking between her and where the car had just been.

“Morning, any news on Fred?” He shook his head, still waiting for an explanation. Nancy gave in quickly, “He’s alright with them, they’ll keep him safe, but he shouldn’t be here.”

“We can agree on that,” He accepted, comforted to know his boy was safe if not home.

*

“You're saying that this thing that killed Fred and Anne, that attacked Chrissy, it's from the Upside Down?” Nancy asked, sitting at Steve’s table and nursing a soda only hours after she had shouted them out of the trailer park.

“It appears so,” Eddie said, still unable to believe that he was going along with this.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse,” Dustin explained

“Now, whether or not he's doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don't know.”

“There’s no connection though,’ Nancy said, brows furrowing in frustration. “Fred, Anne, and Chrissy. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place,” Dustin suggested, “The demogorgon was drawn by blood right? Maybe something is luring the attacks?”

“There is something about that place,” Nancy admitted. “Fred started acting weird the second we got there.”

“Acting weird as in…” Robin egged on.

“Scared, on edge, upset,” Nancy offered. 

“Just like Chrissy,” Steve said. He thought it was odd that she had barely asked anything of Chrissy, despite being the one who experienced the curse.

“What?” the girl in question wrinkled her nose at him, and everyone else turned, confused.

“After the game, before you got cursed,” Steve rushed to explain, trying not to upset her again, “you were pissed at me when I- well I mean it makes sense that you were, sorry, I just thought-”

“No you’re right,” Chrissy agreed, “I was on edge, cause I was already cursed,” she reminded them, “I had a vision or a-a spell, at school that day in the bathroom.” Max pointedly avoided eye contact. “I saw him, and it was like he was right there pounding on the stall door, demanding to be let in, but then just disappeared. I felt like I was going crazy.”

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” Robin thought out loud, “So, this Vecman... Vecna had to track his victims first, wear them down.”

“Dunno about you, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone,” Steve said, pointedly looking to Chrissy for suggestions.

“I didn’t, I went…to Eddie” Chrissy cringed then remembered, “But I saw Ms. Kelley too! I didn’t tell her about the visions, I was worried she’d send me away or tell my parents, but I mentioned the things he was saying.” She trailed off for a moment, getting lost in her own thoughts before recentering, “but maybe someone else did. Tell her, I mean.”

Before anyone could answer, the phone started ringing. 

Still not having heard back from the Byers, or Lucas, Steve eagerly picked it up,

“This is Steve.” The rest of their group watched him from the kitchen, easily able to hear his side of the conversation.

“Just who I was looking for,” a voice he didn’t recognize greeted. “It’s Jason. Carver.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Steve fumbled, trying to remember if they’d ever talked outside of practice. “Can I help you with something?”

“You don’t happen to know Munson do you? You know ‘the Freak’?” Jason goaded. Something like 24 hours ago Steve would have been able to say no and mean it, but now he looked over Eddie. He was watching Steve back, waiting to hear who was calling crouched on one of the dining chairs with an entire box of cereal in his lap. He grabbed a handful and ate it messily out of his hand, and Steve couldn’t help but want to scold him, want Eddie to talk back and get him to laugh. Steve certainly knew Eddie Munson now and wanted to know him better every passing second.

“No can’t say that I do,” he said instead,  concern growing on his face as he continued to watch Eddie. Noticing his gaze, Eddie pulled away from the withering look and glanced behind him as if it could be meant for someone else. 

“Who is it?” Dustin asked, growing impatient. “Did the Byers finally call back?” He shoved his way into Steve's space and tried to take the phone, but he easily held it too high for the kid to reach.

“Cool it, Henderson,” he warned with a wagging finger.

“Henderson?” Jason asked, clearly interested, “Not Dustin Henderson?”

“I- I mean, why?” Steve struggled to piece together what Jason was after. 

“I heard Henderson knows Munson, and I know for a fact that ‘freak’ hurt my sister, and probably has Chrissy too, so if you know anything-”

“I don’t,” Steve insisted. Then continued unconvincingly. “What reason would I have to talk to that…loser?” he cringed even as he spoke, and mouthed an apology afterward to Eddie who pointed to himself and mined back “Who? Me?” He then proceeded to mock-cry and blow his nose into an invisible handkerchief.

“I don’t know, but someone saw you following him to the theater yesterday. I just want to talk to him, do you know where he is?” Jason continued to push.

“Look man, I’m really sorry to hear about your sister, but I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about Eddie. I-”

“You know his name.”

“Jason, man,” Steve sighed, trying to stay cool.

“Jason?” Chriss breathed out, shocked.

“I really am sorry, but I’ve got to go. There’s uh… someone at the door,” Steve finished lamely.

“Harrington-” he called threateningly down the line, but Steve couldn’t be bothered to listen.

“Alright, bye,” he said cheerfully and hung up the phone. “Eddie, you've got to get out of here.” The man in question didn’t bother arguing, just nodded his head frantically in agreement.  “Alright time to move. You got somewhere you can go to hide?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed easily, “My uh… boss has a house out on Lover’s Lake. I crash there sometimes and it’s pretty secluded.”

“Is Jason coming here?” Chrissy asked, her voice raising in panic as she looked to Steve, “I… I can’t be around him, he won’t understand. He’ll force me to go home.”

“You can go with Eddie,” Dustin suggested, oddly cheerful. Steve shot him a questioning look but he just rolled his eyes.

“Perfect,” Nancy said, breaking the moment, “I’ll drop you two off, and then I’ve got something to check on.”

“Something you want to share with the rest of us?” Robin questioned. She was still weary of the Wheeler girl. Actually, her brother too, neither of them were particularly nice to Steve.

“I don't wanna waste your time,” Nancy smiled with faux politeness, “It's a real shot in the dark.” 

“Yeah, okay. Are you out of your mind?” Steve asked, failing to land a joke and just showing how worried he was. “Flying solo with Vecna on the loose? No, it's too dangerous…” Steve thought about offering to go with her but really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the tension that loomed large whenever he was around Nancy. He looked to everyone else, was taking a head count when Max added in,

“I can go talk to Ms. Kelley, see if anyone else told her about seeing Vecna.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed even as he rubbed at his forehead feeling a headache coming on. “Great idea kid, guess I’ll take you and Dustin can tag along-”

“Hey!”

“Robin, stick with Nancy. If we’re splitting up, we're sticking together.” Only as he said it did Steve hear how silly it sounded, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right then. Eddie and Dustin chuckled, only half attempting to hide it. “Whatever, just get to the cars,” then repeated when no one moved, “get in the car!

“Always the babysitter,” Robin sing-songed, as she slid past him and into the passenger's seat of Nancy’s.

“Always the goddamn babysitter!”

Chrissy slid into the backseat of Nancy’s Mercury. Robin was in front of her and Eddie joined Chrissy in the back. 

“Where am I taking you two?” Nancy asked, looking in the rearview at Eddie while putting her hair up. 

“Head south towards Lover’s Lake until we hit Coal Mill Road, it runs East-West and cuts through any of the roads, I’ll let you know where to go when we get there.”

“Okay, cool,” Nancy replied shortly, backing out of Steve’s driveway and getting onto the road.

Eddie leaned over to Chrissy, speaking low so only she could hear, “I’m actually horrible at giving directions, so we’ll see how this goes.”

He grimaced, sucking air through his teeth before laughing. Chrissy giggled, her face still close to his. 

“We’re doomed,” She whispered back before pulling away and leaning back in her seat, shaking her head. She couldn’t help but catch the disapproving look Nancy shot her in the rearview. Chrissy found herself wishing Steve had driven them or let Eddie take them in his own van.

Eddie leaned back, relaxing in his seat and watching the woods of Loch Nora pass by as they drove. Chrissy had found herself being relieved every time Eddie looked away from her these past few days, glad she could look at him without being caught. She wasn’t sure if she should be more embarrassed by the unabashed staring or the fact that she had never really noticed him in school. She allowed herself some grace on her ignorance of Eddie Munson, seeing as she had been in a long-term relationship that, at one point, she was very happy in. 

He was pretty, though, she’d admit it if she was asked. He had a nice face, a good smile, and pretty eyes. She felt dumb thinking it, but it was true. It wasn’t even a growing feeling. From the moment she relaxed enough to really see him when they met in the woods she thought he was one of the prettiest boys she had ever seen. In this moment she let her eyes wander, across him. Pretending to nonchalantly look out the window on his side. His arm was up, head resting on his arm as he looked down his nose at the scenery. She followed the line of his unruly hair down to his shoulders, his jacket fitting against him perfectly from years of wear. His knees were apart, taking up as much room as he could in the backseat without encroaching into Chrissy’s space. She hated herself for thinking that she let him. 

She forced herself to look away, biting the inside of her cheek. She had a boyfriend, she needed to cool it. But, looking wouldn’t do any harm, though, right? 

She decided to allow herself one more glance at him, looking over and trying to pass it off as a yawn, when she noticed something else about him.

“Hey,” She whispered, though Robin was too busy chattering away at Nancy for either of them to notice, He turned, raising an eyebrow at her, “Put your seatbelt on.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head at her. “Really? After all of this weird shit and you’re worried about me wearing a seatbelt.”

“Yeah, you wanna go through all of this just to die in a car crash?” Chrissy asked, “That’s lame.”

“I’ll be fine,” He insisted.

Chrissy stared at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. She thought about how he had smoked the cigarette out of her hand the other night and hoped she was brave enough to do something similar without looking like an idiot.

“Fine.” Chrissy unbuckled her own seatbelt.

“You not wearing yours isn't going to get me to where mine,” Eddie insisted.

Instead of responding, Chrissy slid into the middle seat. She turned to face him and reached across his body, making his eyes go wide at their closeness. She grabbed the buckle near his shoulder and dragged it to her, pulling it across his chest and locking it into place next to his hip. 

“There,” She said with a pleasant smile, patting his chest where the belt was lying, “All safe now.”

Without saying anything else she slid back to her seat and redid her own seat belt, content at the way he wasn’t able to conjure a comeback.

It wasn’t long before the car reached Coal Mill Road and Eddie had to lean forward to instruct Nancy on how to get to where they needed to be. His directions were filled with “ums” and “I think” and a lot of “oh shit, not that way”, but they made it to the house on the lake eventually.

When the car parked, Eddie undid his belt and leaned practically all the way into the front seat, “Thanks Wheeler, I really appreciate your help. Sorry for the horrible directions.” 

Chrissy could tell she had been on the verge of a freakout, but luckily Eddie’s apology seemed to cool her down at least a few degrees.

“I’m gonna make sure the key is where it normally is,” Eddie said, opening his door, “I’ll be right back.”

Chrissy went to get out of the side of the car when Eddie stopped her, “Wait, you stay here until I give the signal that it’s clear.” and then to Nancy, “If any weird shit happens just go, okay, I’ll be fine.”

Chrissy frowned but didn’t argue. She didn’t think this was one she’d win. 

The three girls watched as Eddie closed the door and jogged towards the side of the house. As soon as the door was closed, Nancy rounded on Chrissy.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” She asked abruptly, turning in her seat to look at Chrissy.

“What?” Chrissy was taken off guard by the question. 

“You’re dating Jason Carver, right? You have been since we were sophomores.” Nancy pointed out, “So what’s all this?”

“All of what?” Chrissy didn’t expect Nancy to be so observant, and she definitely didn’t expect her to be so… bold.

“All of this!” Nancy gestured, “The giggling and the seatbelt and, oh god, the staring .”

“Nancy-” Robin tried to cut in, uncomfortable with the sudden tension.

“There’s a monster after you, several people are dead, including your boyfriend's sister, and you’re flirting like  your life depends on it,” Nancy said, “I just don’t get it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to.” Chrissy bit back, “You have no fucking idea what it’s like to be in my position right now, so no. You wouldn’t just get it.”

“Chris-” Robin started.

“Thank you for the ride, Nancy.” Chrissy said, opening the door without waiting for Eddie, “I’ll see you later, Robin, good luck.”

Chrissy slammed the car door, storming off in the direction that Eddie disappeared, unable to hold back the angry tears that were streaming down her face. Not paying attention, she slammed into Eddie’s chest.

“Hey, I thought I asked you to stay-” It only took a moment for Eddie to notice the state Chrissy was in, he grabbed her by the arms, looking her over like she was physically hurt “Woah, woah Chrissy are you okay? What happened? Where’s Robin and Nancy?”

Chrissy tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop, “I’m- I’m fine.” She tried, the tightness in her throat betraying her.

“Hey, easy,” Eddie said, trying to calm her down, and then realizing that they were standing out in the open, “Let’s go inside, okay.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, instead, he just steered her a few feet to the door and then into the house, bolting it behind them,

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy sighed, trying to take a deep breath that kept hitching, “Nancy Wheeler is such a fucking bitch.”

“C’mere,” Eddie said, pulling Chrissy to him without thinking. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and clinging to him as he rubbed a hand across her back. He rested his chin against her head, “If there is one thing that will always be true and that Hawkins High will always know, it’s the fact that Nancy Wheeler is, and always has been, a raging fucking bitch.”

He felt Chrissy laugh against his chest, glad he was able to make her feel at least a little bit better. When she felt she had calmed down enough Chrissy reluctantly peeled herself away from Eddie’s body. He brought his hands up to her face, wiping away the tears that lingered there. He held her face for a moment making her look at him as he leaned down, “Hey, listen, Nancy Wheeler is a bitch, and you, Little Miss Sunshine, are not. And that’s all that matters, okay?”

Chrissy nodded, taking a deep steady breath, balancing herself, and taking a step back. She looked around for the first time since stepping into the building.

“This is your… boss's house?” Chrissy asked, looking around the house they were in. It seemed abandoned and… dusty. When she spotted the glass bong on the kitchen table it clicked, “Oooh, your boss the drug dealer.” 

“Technically,” Eddie said, raising his hands in defense, “I’m the dealer, he’s the supplier.”

“Is there a difference?” Chrissy asked, stepping further into the house. 

“Well, yeah,” Eddie said, tossing old beer cans into the trash, “I get caught and I spend the night in lockup then the cops look the other way while I sell to their kids. Rick gets caught, and he ends up at Plainfield Correctional.”

It was clear that when Rick was toted off to prison, he hadn’t been expecting it. Weeks old dishes were sitting in the sink and Eddie imagined the state of the fridge was appalling. Eddie did his best to clean up, tossing what he deemed unsalvageable into the trash and wiping up the counters as Chrissy wandered around the house. Eddie swiped the bong off the table, pouring the nasty water out, filling it with hot water, and leaving it to soak. 

When Eddie deemed the kitchen clean enough to not be a biohazard he found Chrissy in the living room, looking at photos on the wall. The living room was decently clean, certainly not as gross as the kitchen, save for the skin mags Rick had left on the coffee table. Eddie snatched them up, careful to hold them by the corners, and tossed them behind the couch. 

Eddie fidgeted looking around and realizing this was the first moment of downtime there had been that wasn’t filled by kids or panic. He headed for the tv sitting across the room.

“Wanna watch something?” He asked Chrissy, reading over the spines of the tapes on Rick’s shelf.

“Oh, sure.” Chrissy turned away from the wall of photos and walked over to Eddie. She leaned into his space, reading with him.

“Have you seen The Hobbit?” Eddie asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye when he spotted the tape. 

Chrissy smiled, reaching forward and pulling the movie off the shelf, “It’s my little brother’s favorite. He made us watch it until the tape wore out when he was a toddler.”

She handed him the tape, having to tilt her head back to look up at him with how close they were, “I’d never admit it, but it was my favorite at the time, too.”

Eddie gleefully took the tape from her, popping it into the VHS player and getting the TV turned on.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Eddie said, flipping through until he got to the right setting while Chrissy went and sat on the couch behind him.

“Yeah, Ryan, he’s 11.” Chrissy explained as Eddie came back to the couch, “He’s kinda like you actually, he loves that one band… um, Metallica? Right? That’s the name? Our parents hate it.”

“Sounds like a cool kid,” Eddie said, and then noticed the sad look on Chrissy’s face, “You miss him?”

“Yeah,” She pouted, “but he left for a boy scout trip the day before all this started luckily.”

“A Boy Scout who likes Metallica?” Eddie mused, “Interesting. Well, that’s good that he’s away. By the time he gets back, this will all be done and over with.”

“Ah, look who’s glass half full now,” Chrissy teased, leaning back into the couch as the movie started. 

After a moment, Eddie yawned, stretching his arms up and casually putting one over Chrissy’s shoulders, pointedly not looking at her. She glanced at his hand next to her arm, and narrowed her eyes up at him, smirking. 

“You’re impossible.” She sighed, but slid closer and leaned into his chest, letting herself forget about the fucked up shit that’s been going on and just be for a moment.

*

Steve and Dustin watched Ms. Kelley let Max into her house, knowing all they could do was wait. From the driver seat, Steve let Dustin know she made it in.

“Yeah, I know, I’m missing collar bones, not eyes,” he snarked back. Steve nodded in acknowledgment of the dig, but his eyes were still locked on the door Max had disappeared through. Not wasting any time Dustin asked, “So…when are we going to talk about it?”

“Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Whenever you went insane and forgot to mention that you and Robin are basically already married?” Dustin elaborated, or mostly made up. They both knew that their friendship didn’t look exactly normal from the outside or the inside he guessed. He knew they acted like a couple, but that mostly had to do with the fact they couldn't stand the thought of not seeing each other for a few hours at most.

“First of all that’s not at all what is going on,” Steve scoffed, wishing Robin was here to deny it herself, so Steve could stop thinking of all the reasons why they shouldn’t date. The most obvious was her being a lesbian, but an encroaching second was the lingering thought of holding Eddie Munson’s ringed hand.

“Pretty sure that’s exactly what’s happening. Eddie and Chrissy wer-”

“Eddie and Chrissy!” Steve snapped his fingers and pointed, “That’s something for you to talk about!”

“What are you jealous of Eddie too?”

“I’m not jealous of anyone! Robin and I are just friends, Nance and I are over, and as for Chrissy…I think Munson’s got her covered,” Steve admitted bitterly. “Okay?” he asked, hoping Dustin could for once in his life just drop it. He thought he had missed this feeling, the first notes of excitement that came with developing crushing, but Dustin was quickly pulverizing those. Steve had never had any intention of getting the little twerp so fixated on his love life, but then maybe he shouldn’t have tried to give him tips on girls. He would really like someone to be able to give him tips right now, mostly on how to stop thinking of your child-friends other older male friends and the way he laughed. 

“Okay?!” he insisted again, but Dustin kept smirking like he knew better than Steve. “I don’t want to find any of them in the morning with their eyes sucked out of their skull by this Vecna creep!”

“You’re like bright red in the face right now,” Dustin giggled, and Steve knew he was but defended himself anyway.

“I’m not. I don’t want to talk about it,” he admitted looking back out the window, definitely not trying to ride his blush as it continued to creep up his cheeks. How could he ever tell Dustin about this? He didn’t have time to worry about it right now. “I’ll punch you so hard in the face that your teeth fall back out,” he threatened, panicking over recent revelations rising in an inopportune moment.

“Woah,” Dustin frowned, then told Steve, “too far.” They met eyes, and Steve gauged the emotion on his friend's face. He didn’t look horribly hurt, and he’d let him know but still, Steve had to push down the guilt. He was better than that now.

“Not cool, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Not cool,” Dustin agreed, but let it go and accepted Steve's olive branch of a fist bump.

Only a moment later, Max was rushing back out of Ms. Kelley’s house and yelling for him to drive.

They skidded down the road. He wondered how he got himself into this position, at the command of several entitled children.

 Rushing to the school at Max’s whim, the crackle of the walkie caught Steve off guard.

Lucas’s voice came through, and Steve felt himself relax, at least a little bit. The kid continued to explain he’d been with Jason and his other teammates, and that they were convinced Eddie killed Anne and must have Chrissy too. Confirmation of Jason’s threats from earlier that morning was frightening, but Steve was glad they got out of his house.

“Lucas you’re so behind it’s ridiculous,” Max let him know. “Just meet us at the School. We’ll explain later.”

“I- I can’t,” he admitted sadly, “I think some back shit is about to go down.”

“What are you talking about?” Max asked, “What bad shit?” but no answer came, no matter how many times Max called Lucas’s name down the line, and soon enough they were at the school.

Max practically sprinted down the hall toward Ms. Kelley’s office, leaving Dustin and Steve in her wake. She could hear them talking over the walkie with Robin and Nancy, but she wasn’t close enough to hear what they were actually saying. When she finally reached the office, she checked both ways before shoving the stolen keys into the lock, as if the cops were going to materialize in the hallway. She knew this was probably the most illegal thing she had ever done, but at this point she didn't care; she needed answers and this was the only way to get them.

The boys caught up to her by the time she got the door unlocked. The door opened easily, all three of their flashlights illuminating the room. Max made a beeline for the familiar filing cabinets, opening up the top drawer and immediately flipping through the C names. Max was able to immediately find Carver, Anne, but noticed something else as well.

“Holy shit,” she said to herself.

“Found it?” Dustin asked, dropping whatever dumb thing he was talking about with Steve.

“Yeah, and not just Anne’s file.” She pulled what she was looking at out, holding it up for Steve and Dustin to see, “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley, too.”

They looked at each other, realizing this ran deeper than they expected. Max pulled out Anne and Fred’s files, she saw Chrissy’s but dedicated that whatever was in there, Chrissy could tell them herself. Max sat down, opening up Anne’s file while Dustin held the flashlight over her shoulder for her to read. 

Aside from Anne’s transcript and personal details, the file was fairly empty, only about a visit or two’s worth of notes. Max had seen her own file a few times and it was stacked thick from months of forced sessions. Whatever Anne had been going through,  she only recently decided to bring it up with Ms. Kelley.

The first session notes were brief, only what seemed to be a description of Anne’s immediate problems: Past trauma, terrible nightmares, difficulty sleeping, and headaches. The familiarity of the symptoms made Max uneasy. 

“Can I see Fred’s file?” She asked, looking around the desk for it. Steve was quick to scoop it off the end of the desk and hand it to her, leaning over her shoulder as she read.

Max couldn’t help but to picture herself as she began to read through Fred’s file. Severe headaches, nosebleeds, and constant nightmares stemming from past trauma. She thought of the bottles of Advil she had been going through lately and the way she had been waking up on the verge of tears every night multiple times a night for the past week, Billy’s name rushing past her lips. She remembered the nosebleed she got during her geometry test a few days ago, and then again last night while brushing her teeth. 

Max’s heart sank, her chest tightening as she began to make connections between herself, Fred, Ally, and presumably Chrissy as well. She was next. She was part of this. Her name being called by Dustin was lost on her as someone, no, something else began to call out to her. Blind to her friends she had walked in with, Max stood up from the desk, unable to help herself from following the voice.

The heavy ticking of a clock pounded in Max’s ears as she walked out of the office, her lone flashlight the only source of light in the dark hall. It chimed suddenly, making her jump as the sound echoed around her. She continued to follow the sound, taking slow steps as she turned the corner. At the end of the hallway, she saw a huge grandfather clock, impossibly embedded in the cinderblock wall of the hallway. It chimed again, louder and longer this time. She took slow hesitant steps, trying to get closer to investigate. Every few seconds the clock would chime again, each one louder and more aggressive than the last. She was close enough to see the details on the heavy pendulum when the clock chimed a final time, ringing out with it, the voice called “Max,” a final time.

[senditcolton]

“Lead Me to the Garden” Chai Cookies ❀ edelweiss (courage, devotion) — “touch them again and i promise, it will be the last thing you ever do.” + Mat Martin -cellythefloshie

ugh, a perfect match the energy this man gives off. i hope you don't mind that i used this request as a chapter 2.5 of the "We're a Bad Idea" series (i also slightly changed the wording of the prompt to make it hit more) @cellythefloshie

word count: 1.8k

You were out drinking again.

It was a common situation, one that you enjoyed a little too much if you were being honest. But it was different because this time, you weren’t with your brother and his teammates. You were with your best friends from university who had come to visit you in the city. And you hadn’t realized how much you missed them until now.

So many of your nights were spent being a different person for someone else, someone you weren’t even sure wanted you the same way you wanted him. Tonight, you were you. Unapologetically you.

It was refreshing.

But you couldn’t stop Matt Martin from being on your mind.

“Hey, can I ask you guys for advice?” you shout over the music, your three friends turning to look at you.

“Of course you can. Is that even a question?” your friend McCaela replies, leaning her elbows on the table and giving you her undivided attention, Hayden and Taylor following her lead to look over to you. Their eyes make you slightly nervous but you know they will be honest with you and that’s what you need right now. So, you take a deep breath before continuing.

“I’ve been seeing this guy and I like him but I’m not sure if he feels same way. What should I do?”

“Well, what do you mean by seeing? Like, is it talking? A few dates? A booty call?” Hayden asks.

“It’s… complicated,” you try to explain but a scoff from Taylor’s mouth stops you.

“Do not say that because I’m just going to tell you to dump this boy’s ass. It shouldn’t be complicated babe. Either he wants you or he doesn’t.”

“No, like, let me explain: we have these days that feel like they’re dates. Like exploring the city and having fun just hanging out. But then there’s days where he’s so distant. And I get why he’s distant because of our situation but it still feels weird.”

“What situation?” McCaela questions before you see her face morph into horror. “Are you sleeping with a married man?”

“Oh my god, no!”

“Then what is this ‘situation’ where he needs to be distant.”

“He’s my brother’s teammate alright? And my brother would freak if he knew.”

“So – wait – this dude is afraid of your brother? That’s why he’s distant?” Taylor speaks again, one eyebrow raising in question.

“That plus he’s a little older than I am.”

“Oh, that makes it even fucking worse actually,” Taylor says, taking another hearty sip of their drink.

“How is that worse?”

“Babe, he is a grown ass man. And yet he’s… what? Keeping you like a dirty little secret? That’s gross.”

“He’s not like that.”

“Oh really?”

“Taylor, you’re being a little harsh, don’t you think?” Hayden says, their incredulous tone lifting over the music.

“Well, hang on. I’m willing to admit I might be wrong but let me just make a guess about why you feel the way you do,” Taylor says before scooting closer to your, angling their body to face you directly and their blue eyes staring so far into your soul that you were slightly terrified they could see the truth so plainly written on your heart.

“This man…” they start and you are terrified of the next words to come out of their mouth. “The reason you are confused about how he feels about you is because he says these things that make you think that he wants you. Or wants something more. But… he only ever says these things to you when you’re fucking. And he doesn’t say them to you in the daylight, in public, whatever. Am I close?”

 You had to try and prevent your jaw from going slack at their completely accurate representation of the situationship that defined you and Matt. Because, it was true.

“How the fuck did you know?” you whisper and you hate the way Taylor’s mouth twists in a sort of satisfied disgust as they turn back to their drink.

“That’s not a man. That’s a bitch-ass baby and you should dump him.”

“But, I really like him.”

“It’s not worth it babe,” they continue, shooting you a quick glance. “Trust me.”

You let Taylor’s words sink into you and you chew over them in your mind. You always equated Matt Martin to a bad idea, to a drug. But you never fully understood why you attached that metaphor to him.

He was changing you and you knew that if you kept letting him in, he would permanently alter you.

And that’s not what you did to the people you cared for.

But like any good drug, it felt impossible to quit him.

“Can we focus on something else?” you ask, the truth nagging in your brain. But you weren’t sure that you were ready to face it. At least not tonight.

“Of course.” It’s Hayden that says that, their hand coming over to gently grab your forearm in encouragement. “Let’s just have fun tonight, yeah? Just like old times.”

You take a deep breath and nod, putting on your best smile before McCaela orders a few green tea shots for the table. And as you let the alcohol slide down your throat, you let your worries slide off your mind with it. You wanted to forget for a little bit: forget about your worries, forget about the hole that you dug yourself into all those months ago.

When you decided to go after that stupid crush you had and fell straight down into this pit you weren’t sure how to lift yourself out of.

But that was then and you wanted to focus on now.

Once you shook off the lingering anxieties, you started to relax. You started to have fun. You started to come back to yourself. The spirits were flowing, both literally and metaphorically, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt surer and more confident of yourself.

So, when a cute stranger slides up to you while you’re sitting at the bar waiting for your next drink, you don’t dismiss his advances. He engages you in a conversation that is suggestive without being creepy and you start to feel the temptation of taking him home at the end of the night.  

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel the weird pang of guilt. There was no need for the voice in your mind to try and persuade you that this was okay because you and Matt Martin weren’t really together.

Because you weren’t together. Period. Matt Martin was someone you occasionally fucked. He had done nothing to prove to you that he wanted anything more.

Like Taylor said, if he wanted to, he would. But he didn’t.

So, when the handsome stranger – Camden – starts to get bolder, his knees knocking against yours, you felt the thrill of being so blatantly desired and it was intoxicating. It was something you didn’t know you were missing. And when Camden reaches his hand over to rest on your upper thigh, the desire ratcheted up to another level.

But it was quickly squashed when a strong hand came down on Camden’s bicep, tearing his hand from your skin and your eyes dart over. Only to have the butterflies erupt in your stomach when you see Matt standing there in his black leather jacket, looking every bit like his on-ice stereotype.

“Touch my girl like that again and I promise, it will be the last thing you ever do,” he says, his voice like steel and when Camden looks behind him to see the large body of Matt, he doesn’t put up a fight. He just slips out of his barstool wordlessly and Matt takes great pleasure in occupying the now vacant spot.

“What the fuck was that about Matt?” you ask, the alcohol in your veins making your bold words fall as you watch Camden disappear into the crowd.

“What? Were you going to take him home?” he asks and that infuriating condescending tone did nothing but add fuel to the fire.

“I might’ve. Why is that any of your business?”

“I thought we had established that no one could please you like me,” Matt says, his body leaning forward, his hands coming to rest on the top of your thighs and you hate the way your body involuntarily craves his touch. His voice deeps lower and the sultry timbre makes your heart pound.

“Remind me how many times I can make you cum. Or did you forget?”

If this was any other night, you would’ve folded easily, his intoxicating energy pulling you in. But tonight was different. Your friends had reminded who you were, who you discovered yourself to be at university. And you loved that person. You weren’t going to let Matt Martin take that away from you. So, when you shove his hands off your thighs, you can’t stop the thrill in your heart at the expression of shock that flickers over his features.

“And that makes you entitled to me somehow?” you scoff. “I’m yours because you can make me cum? If that was the case then I’d still be with this boy Sean who I slept with second year of university.” 

“You’re mine because no one else makes you feel the way I do,” he attests, his voice hard and determined. You return his statement with another scoff.

“And do you want to know how you make me feel right now, Matt? Angry. And I’m going home.”

You slide out of your seat in a rage, grabbing your purse and quickly texting your friends, making up an excuse about some emergency, promising that you’ll hang out again before they leave. You feel sorry for ditching them like this but you knew you couldn’t spend another moment in that bar when he was there.

Matt Martin made you feel… everything. Desire, rage, happiness, excitement, comfort. Everything. And it was that whiplash of emotions that kept you tethered to him. Because every emotion he pulled from you felt like it was going to drown you. But it seemed that those depths were just shallow tide pools to him.

And you needed to draw the line. Not one in the sand that he could easily shift and move and change. But a solid line, one in concrete that he needed to step over or walk away from.

You were done playing games. You were done with him calling you his and doing nothing to make you feel like it wasn’t just another pretty practiced set of words. You were done with Matt Martin. You swear you were.

Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. It was wrong to try and control you like that. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Brunch at Sanfords? Message received on March 23rd at 11:09am

 Can you pick me up? Message sent on March 23rd at 11:35am

Be there in 20. Message received on March 23rd at 11:37am

[ieroween1031]

My Thoughts in Real Time as I Watched Episode 13 of Love in the Air That Absolutely Nobody Asked For:

- IM SO EXCITED I CANT BREATHE

- I can’t believe this is the (second to) last time I’m gonna see this intro, I already want to cry

- Fucking Sig, I love him so much.

- Can we get a spin-off just dedicated to Sig?

- Rain, you nosy motherfucker. We love you for this.

- Also, I’m so totally here for Sky finally not holding back his emotions. Agreeing to give Pai a ‘prize’ if he wins? We love to see it.

- Prapai’s posting picture of Sky on his Instagram? I’m fucking dead.

- These episode names are too much. Can’t do it!

- Aww, little baby Sky.

- Sky smoking? Oof. I don’t care how gross it is, smoking is hot. Sue me.

- If that was really the first time Sky took a drag of a cigarette, he’d have coughed it all back out. The first few cigarettes as a new smoker suck, and they fucking hurt.

- On that note, don’t smoke, kids! It’s bad for you!

- I knew that it was gonna be Gun, and as soon as I saw him, I honest to god growled. Fucker.

- Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. (To myself and to Sky)

- Listen to your friends, Sky!

- Okay, smoking’s not hot when this fucking dickbag does it.

- This should go without saying, but for everyone out there reading this, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or hurt you unless you’re into it. Don’t go along with shit you’re not comfortable with just to prove that you love someone. Fuck them, fuck their feelings, protect yourself.

- Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox now.

- Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I don’t wanna watch this.

- I can’t imagine how hard this was for Peat. The reaction video is gonna hurt.

- Fuck, I hope someone kills this fucking asshole.

- I know this is an emotional scene, but I’m losing my shit over Pai calling Sky ‘baby’

- THIS FUCKING COCKMONGER AGAIN?

- Take your fucking eyes off of him and wipe that smirk off your face, you shitbird.

- Fluffy PrapaiSky will be the death of me.

- I’m so proud of Sky for not being afraid and being able to admit how he feels. My sweet baby has come so far!

- The look of terror on Sky’s face when he didn’t know who was hugging him is just one giant foreshadow and I hate it.

- “My lucky star” 😭😭😭😭

- Payu is 1000% done with Pai’s lovesick ass like he probably wasn’t just as bad a few months ago.

- We need more Payu/Sky and Prapai/Rain. The boyfriend/best friend dynamic is so freaking cute.

- Every time I see that bastard, I get so fucking angry.

- I was gonna yell at Sky to run as soon as he saw Gun, but I remember when someone who looked like my abuser walked into my job and I shut down and just completely froze, so I understand why he couldn’t run.

- It’s absolutely killing me that Pai knows that Petch is a slimy little snake, but that he doesn’t know why.

- Yes, Sky! You stand up for yourself! Your man loves you, and don’t forget it!

- Rain, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I kinda wanna smack you.

- Rain really is a gold(fish)en retriever, isn’t he? Head empty, no thoughts, attention span that only lasts two seconds, but damn it, he’s a good boy that’s trying his best.

- I feel nauseous watching Sky walk into that apartment.

- You fucking liars. I’m so angry.

- I’m so glad that Sky doesn’t believe them. It’s amazing to see how much he’s changed.

- Sky Protection Squad in full force, yes! Go rescue him!

- Where the fuck are Rain and Payu while Pai and Gun are in the bedroom? Are they just making tea with the other assholes that were in the apartment? Come on, guys.

- Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

- Love him to death, but for the love of method acting, someone please teach Fort how to properly throw a punch.

- He should have killed him. And Payu should have hit Petch, too.

- I don’t know what hurts more, Sky being catatonic and not being able to cry, or Pai sobbing for him.

- He brought him home. Like, home, home.

- That picture of the two of them on Pai’s desk, I could cry.

- I don’t even have any more thoughts, I’m just happy that Gun and Stop are gone, all four of my boys are happy, and that Pai knows everything about Sky now.

- There are a bunch of scenes from the novel that I’m sad were not in the series, but that could be a whole separate post.

- WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?

- Aside from finish KinnPorsche (I still have two episodes left), catch up on Remember Me and Between Us, binge all the other shows I have on my To Watch list, and tear my hair out waiting for Just Say Yes.

- Excuse me while I rewatch the entire series over and over.

[bangtannism]

I agree with your comment about tae’s post. That man has publicly dated a whole woman and told the freaks to get out of their imagination. He should not have to censor himself or his interactions with members to avoid triggering them. I wouldn’t want any of the members to have to censor themselves to appease the lowest and worst of the fandom, and that includes him posting with jungkook. He literally did a whole photo dump, shippers are just the ones hyper focusing on his post with jungkook and singling it out. It also doesn’t matter for the worst taekookers: taekook posts nothing and it’s because they’re private, they post something together and omg they’re free and showing their love. It’s a no win and it’s not fair for either tae or jungkook to have try and tiptoe their friendship around that minefield.

I will admit I wouldn’t have minded seeing him post something about jimins work, but I do think I’m probably just feeling more sensitive and protective about his promotions because of the mishandling by the company, so that’s probably more about me than tae.

thanks for stopping by, anon! i do think it would be nice for tae to post something about muse as well, but fans aren't owed that and it's not like he is the only one who hasn't posted about it.

as for censoring, i totally agree. it would be ridiculous to expect tae, or any member of bts, to censor their interactions and posts just because a section of the fandom might misbehave. he isn't responsible for how fans react to things and if anyone wants to hate on jimin, they'll find a reason whether tae posts or not.

this whole thing that some jkkrs and tkkrs have against tae and jimin respectively is not just absurd but gross. ship and believe what you want, but don't use your personal feelings and beliefs as ammunition against other members. tae and jimin have repeatedly shown their love and closeness and i am pretty sure if either of them had an issue with what the other says/does then they would bring it up. it's not like they have never argued or had disagreements and it would be a huge and unfounded assumption that either would willingly let themself be mistreated by the other. (i mean lets reference the infamous rainy day fight - does jm sound like a man to just let people do whatever they want?) these are grown adult men who do not need people to get angry at friends they love in the name of defending them from an assumed slight.

i am also really miffed about op using the word disingenuous to describe the hug between jimin and taehyung during jin's discharge.

this was such a sweet moment, i don't know how anyone could look at in such a negative light.

[weakeninghope]

Clean freak (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Joseph Joestar/Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli

Rating: Explicit

AO3 link here

Summary:   So. Uh. Maybe Caesar Zeppeli wasn't that bothered by Joseph being a sweaty bastard. By smelling like a sweaty bastard. Not that Caesar had a habit of smelling people, but spending countless days sparring with someone else (a muscular guy) does certain things to you. And you do notice, for instance, that your sparring partner definitely doesn't dress in nice-smelling clothes, doesn't use cologne and/or rose-smelling lotion. But saying "ew Jojo, you smell gross don't get close to me" was both a nice pretense  for upholding Caesar's clean freak reputation and way easier than admitting that he may have absolutely nothing against the mix of Joseph's corporal scent, his sweat and his cheap 3 in 1 shampoo + conditioner (what does he even need conditioner for?) + body wash. 

Notes:  

I'm!!!!! back!!!!!! I'm so sorry it's taken me literal years to upload the second chapter but life has been terrible these past years. Anyway, if anyone remembers this story, feel free to read the closing chapter, that I have not, by any means, written during my working hours because I was alone on the reception desk.

Come scream at me about Caejose or anything!! I'd love to talk to you gus. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and the overall story, this was really self indulgent not gonna lie, the ending is a little bit off because I didn't know how to wrap everything up. But I'm so happy this is finally complete!!

Comments and kudos are much appreciated! Thank you for sticking (hehe) with me ♡♡♡♡

Twitter: @/Kashiikas

fic under the cut!

Caesar was a guy who really cared about cleanliness. He liked seeing his surroundings clean and gleaming. Of course, his personal hygiene was no exception. He’d had enough of living in dirty, abandoned and rusty places back in his hoodlum era. Whether wandering around the streets because he had nowhere to belong anymore or living somewhere where he couldn’t even take a decent shower was the worst that had happened to him, Caesar doesn’t know. What he does know is that since Master Lisa Lisa took him in and, despite the arduous training he had to endure, he had access to showering in human conditions, and that  he felt as though the happiest man on Earth. 

It seems though that apparently, he was the only one in that island excluding Master Lisa Lisa and Suzie Q who cared a little bit about hygiene and manners. Well, there were like, four people in the island, so ruling out these exceptions, there was only one person left who didn’t abide by Caesar’s morale.

Joseph Joestar.

Joseph freaking Joestar.

Caesar didn’t even know how to feel about that guy. Sure, their first encounter wasn’t how you start a friendship (or whatever it is that they… have going on) but at least the blonde considers that he’s gotten to know Joseph pretty well. 

The first thing Caesar noticed about the other was his lack of any politeness, manners or, in overall, sense of dignity. That guy allowed himself to be outright goofy and undistinguished in front of other people, and didn’t seem to feel any remorse at that. In all honesty, a part deep inside of Caesar’s psyche was jealous of his ―apparently, yet again, that was his first impression― carefree personality. But maybe it was also because he was carefree that Caesar’s animosity towards that guy was so powerful at the beginning at least: as far as he was concerned, he was totally clueless in regards to his family background. Caesar’s fixation towards clean things wasn’t his most defining trait. It was definitely the pride he harbored towards his duty as a Zeppeli. Family was the most important thing to him; his father died sacrificing himself for him even though he didn’t recognize him as his son. And then his grandfather died protecting Jonathan Joestar. 

The second thing Caesar noticed was that Joseph wasn’t dumb at all. He pretended to be dumb so the enemy would take him lightly. But deep inside he was a cunning bastard. His hamon may be weak, but he knew how to come up with a plan in the direst of circumstances. Technique against lack of restraint. Both were a great asset in battle and different perspectives aimed at the same goal. Caesar’s way of handling things has been proven effective (or at least since he began training under Master Lisa Lisa’s wing) but undoubtedly, merging his combat style with Joseph’s surpassed his expectations. At first he didn’t think he’d take it seriously, Joseph could just have defeated Santana by chance. But Caesar was proven wrong. During his first encounter with Wham, Joseph protected everyone. Not only that, but also showed a fighting spirit that made Caesar feel enamored by it. It was captivating. He could sense his will to fight. That was probably the turning point. 

But the turning point for what exactly?

It was against all odds that Caesar could feel attracted to someone like this.  But apparently, life was full of surprises.

The third thing he noticed about Joseph was… 

Damn, even having to admit it to himself felt like too much of an ordeal.

Joseph Joestar was hot. Like, an annoying type of hot. Starting-to-affect-him-way-too-much to-keep-his-cool-and-composure-hot. There was no helping it anyway, Caesar could appreciate beautiful people. He had an eye for beauty. And apparently for hot studs. Equally Dumb and Hot studs. And Joseph fit right in. Not that Caesar’s physique paled in comparison to Joseph’s, but still. He had… a thing for muscular guys. Joseph did not disappoint. He always seemed to be proud of his “handsome face” (he was right) but his body? a whole other level. Admiring it from a far distance was already too much, but they were training together, after all. It didn’t help either that his comrade dressed in a likely way Caesar did. Those tight tops that he wore all the time did justice to his pecs. His abs. And well, he hadn’t seen the other in shorts but he feels like those legs could crush his head and he’d gla-

okay. Enough is enough.

Caesar’s horniness and attraction towards his companion wouldn’t have been an issue if he could… unload his sexual frustrations normally, but there were a few counterpoints. They had separate rooms, but Joseph liked loitering in his far more time than needed (thank god he had the mask on, had he been mask-less Caesar’s eyes would have lingered too much on his mouth) and, even at night, he could try jerking off, except for the fact that he couldn’t. One would expect that Lisa Lisa’s Mansion had top tier construction with amazing, sound-proof like walls. 

That was not the case though.

The walls separating their rooms were paper thin. He could hear all the sounds coming from Joseph’s room. The music. His laugh when reading those absurd comics he liked. Every time he stumbled off bed and hit himself with random furniture because he was clumsy in the mornings. Overall, this was a nice routine and change of pace for Caesar. He was used to danger, to ugly noises, to the sound of people screaming, the sound of his fists hitting other hoodlums like himself. But hearing Joseph like that was almost homely in a newfound way. However, this had a downside. If he jerked off in his room and a moan escaped from his mouth even if he tried to stifle it with a pillow, Joseph would know. 

Caesar was loud when it came to this kind of stuff. And Joseph seemed to be loud as well. He could almost hear those noises if he closed his eyes.

So the only choice left was the bathroom. They had to share that one, but, well, Joseph wasn’t one for long showers. He wasn’t one for showers, in general. Caesar had enough self-control, so he was able to avoid getting hard from having Joseph under him in training. He felt so pliant underneath him, the close contact, the sweat lingering in the air… everything made Caesar so dizzy he had to relax somehow. And since he had the classic clean freak reputation he took long showers everyday both to get rid of the sweat clinging to his body and the lust clouding his brain. Showers were a ritual for him anyway. He liked taking his time to get undressed, sensually undressed, as if someone, a specific someone, were looking at him through a hole on the wall he didn’t know was there. He took his sweet time during the actual showering process too. His golden locks didn’t look as soft and glittering just because; Caesar actively took care of them, massaging his scalp in slow, pleasant motions to make sure his shampoo was well spread. Same thing with his body. He wanted to look clean and smell nicely since he had a routine after all.

He had managed to keep his urges in control for a while, until he was basically on edge. Joseph had called him his Personal Hygiene Reminder because day after day he would tell the brunet to take a shower already because he smelled gross.

Well, that was the surface excuse. The actual plan went deeper than that. And there was probably an ulterior motive, one that Genius Strategist Joseph Joestar hadn't managed to unravel yet. Unless he has, but Caesar is better off trying to convince himself otherwise. That would make Caesar an open book. Which he never was and will never be, period. 

So. Uh. Maybe Caesar Zeppeli wasn't that bothered by Joseph being a sweaty bastard. By smelling like a sweaty bastard. Not that Caesar had a habit of smelling people, but spending countless days sparring with someone else (a muscular guy) does certain things to you. And you do notice, for instance, that your sparring partner definitely doesn't dress in nice-smelling clothes, doesn't use cologne and/or rose-smelling lotion. But saying "ew Jojo, you smell gross don't get close to me" was both a nice pretense  for upholding Caesar's clean freak reputation and way easier than admitting that he may have absolutely nothing against the mix of Joseph's corporal scent, his sweat and his cheap 3 in 1 shampoo + conditioner (what does he even need conditioner for?) + body wash. 

That's why, for self-preservation purposes, Caesar has decided to pester the bastard until he gets a fucking decent shower. Not a 2 hour long ritual (though he should) nor a quick scrub and that's that. Somewhere in between. Perfectly balanced, as everything should be. That way, he won't have to think about how turned on he actually is and he can have some, as he's sure Joseph would name it, "stress relief". 

But who would be the one relieving stress?

Joseph?

Caesar?

Maybe both?

Probably both. He's not as dumb as to believe that Joseph hasn't had the surprisingly bright idea to jerk himself off in the shower. That would explain why the past few days the brunet has been extremely annoying about the amount of time Caesar spends in the shower walls.  That, and when Joseph said "I bet you put a nice show there'', the easy response was "I'm not allowing your dirty disheveled self anywhere near my shower ritual, Jojo", but if the bastard wanted a show, fine, he would have a show. A private one, at that. But it would abide by Caesar's rules. He was the levelheaded part of the duo after all. His extreme horniness since their training started had nothing to do with this. 

Every great plan needs some preparations that need to be taken care of beforehand. He’d learned that from Joseph. Of course this doesn’t mean that Caesar didn’t plan his strategies in advance, in fact, he did spend much more time on them than Joseph did. The brunet had the skill to come up with a brilliant plan on the spot and pass it as a sudden and silly idea that popped into his head by chance. But it wasn’t by chance at all. Anyway, now it was Caesar’s time to shine.

The first step was the usual “go tell Joseph you’re going to use the shower”, but with the addendum of some horny intent, and Caesar wearing only a towel covering from below his waist was the icing on the cake. What could go wrong? 

For starters, Joseph’s door was shut, which was unnatural coming from the brunet because he gave a damn about privacy (not only his, but everyone’s) and had claimed multiple times that “he had nothing to hide”. So, if the door was shut this time, did that mean that there was something he didn’t want others to see? Time to test the waters. 

He knocks once. No response. Now that’s odd, he’s usually eager to answer when someone knocks, the few times his door is shut.

He knocks again. Still, no response. The room sounds surprisingly quiet and that’s where Caesar started to feel annoyed. Was Joseph avoiding him on purpose? Did something happen to him? It was unusual for his room to be this quiet, so why?

This time, Caesar decides to speak.

“Jojo!” Caesar's voice comes through the door. He’s demanding, too riled up for pleasantries, and it’s Joseph anyway it’s not like he needs to act polite around him. “Since you’re not answering, I’m going to come in to make sure you’re here and that you didn’t remove your mask or do anything funny.”

 God bless the mask excuse. While it wasn’t technically a lie, if Joseph had his mask off right now because he had succeeded in taking it off, that wasn’t Caesar’s problem. But it did give him the perfect alibi. There weren’t hidden intentions anywhere, he just wanted to check up on his training partner. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Caesar hears some fumbling in the room, the rustle of bed sheets― just what the hell is happening in there? Fuck it, no more waiting.

When Caesar steps into the room, Joseph is, indeed, wearing his facemask, but something feels off. He’s laying face down on the bed (a little bit of an uncomfortable position if you ask Caesar). This means his ass is full on display. Oh, god. Don’t stare, don’t stare. Just look for a topic to start a conversation; this was to provoke Joseph, not to greet him with a boner. 

“Oh, so you’re reading one of those lame comics of yours” Caesar chastises, trying to make Joseph to turn around to look at him, plus stepping closer to him so now he’s standing close to his face, but for some reason, Joseph seemed adamant on not looking Caesar’s way. Realizing that his training partner is flatly ignoring him, the blonde decides to play his cards. If Joseph wants this to be a game then it will be one.  

“Jojo, are you going to ignore me for much longer? Are you angry because you lost again today? Oh, come on, I didn’t take you for such a baby” Caesar taunts. The usual “picking up a fight stance” usually works on simple-minded individuals. So it’s not much of a surprise when Joseph tilts his face slightly and takes the bait.

Not enough for eye contact, though.

Not that it was the blonde’s intention to boast, but he did have a great body, and Joseph was in front of it, taking in every single patch of skin on display (basically everything except his nether region, but one has to leave something to the other’s imagination to make matters more exciting, isn’t that right?). He is aware that he’s sweaty. He doesn’t like how he smells, and horny intentions aside, Caesar is indeed in desperate need of a shower. God, he’s dying to see Joseph’s face. Is he flustered? He definitely should.

“So, you can’t bother to even look at me?” Caesar inquiries, he may need to play the annoying bastard part today, but it was for a greater good. After all, one wrong (or right) move, and the towel bids farewell to this world. 

“I have already had my fill of your ugly face, thank you.” Joseph breaks the silence that feels eternal and heavy, but he still has his eyes fixated on that dumb comic book. Just a little bit more.

Then Caesar crouches besides the bed, and that’s when Joseph turns upon hearing his knees crack.

Their eyes crash. Joseph’s eyes look more enticing than ever today; he almost has a shroud of insecurity and vulnerability around them. Before Caesar can even think what to say next, Joseph’s eyes dart away from his.

“Your next words will be ' ‘I’m going to use the shower, make sure to wash your dirty body when I come out’' Joseph retorts. And theeeere he goes. He’s taken the bait, and he’s being his usual self again. Caesar decides to keep the game going. 

“I’m going to use the shower, make sure to wash your dirty body when I come out” Caesar lets go in the sultriest way he can manage. After that, he exits the room, celebrating the fact that he has pulled through this exchange without getting a boner. 

That was about to change in a matter of minutes, though. 

He knew that Joseph didn’t peek when he was in the shower. Probably because he’s too lazy to move his ass off the bed, but he will peek this time. Caesar will give him a show he will never, ever forget. He obviously doesn’t lock the door today, and he knows this works enough as an invitation to take a look (or two). The lock is rusty-ish so when someone locks the bathroom door pretty much everyone nearby knows. 

The plan is crafted on the basis that Joseph is as much a wishful thinker as Caesar. A pretty risky bet, nothing can be done about it. He can almost hear what his training partner is thinking: “Just a peek won’t hurt”. He knows. He hopes. 

The door is not blatantly open (it’s not funny if you make it that obvious) but just the small amount that lets you get a glimpse of what’s going on inside if you squint hard enough. No sounds of anyone approaching the door are heard, but Caesar begins the show anyway. Pants go off first. Slowly, carefully, his plump ass facing the door. He even touches one of his cheeks not-that-accidentally to make his one person audience ache for more. Meanwhile, he’s humming one of his favorite songs, something he usually does when he’s in a good mood. After a little bit of effort, all the clothes are off, and when he first steps into the showers he hears someone dashing through the corridor and the tell-tale sound of said person bumping into the wall. 

Heh, there it goes. 

Wait… if this person was definitely Joseph, and he was in such a hurry that he’d been even more careless than usual… Does this mean that during their little exchange in Joseph’s room, he was avoiding his gaze and lying face down on the bed… because he was trying to conceal a boner? 

Screw logic. To hell with morale. Fuck the plan, he’d had enough. He feels himself starting to harden from his thoughts alone, so when his hand touches his neglected cock from the first time he’s pretty sure that the moan escaping his mouth is by far one of the most lascivious ones that has come from his vocal chords in the past. 

 But that’s not enough. He wants, no, he needs more than just this. His eager hand grips his cock with maybe more force than usual, but he doesn’t care. His actions reflect how desperate he is and how raw his desire for Joseph Joestar is. The plan was to make Joseph horny but, here he was. How could he ignore that the brunet was obviously hard a few minutes ago? He can’t. It’s time to go all out. 

“Jojo”... Caesar moans softly. There is no scheming this time. He is indeed imagining that it’s the other’s hand pumping his cock in earnest, with those calloused hands that would probably feel too rough and inexperienced but perfect anyway.

“Jojo!” He moans again after thumbing his slit, precum already gathered there. 

God, he wants to cum. But he wants to cum in front of Joseph. Watch the other cum in front of him. No walls tearing them apart, no stupid games, no pretenses to just fuck the shit out of each other until they run dry. 

Perhaps it is uncharacteristic of Caesar Zeppeli to leave the bathroom in his slightly wet state, naked, and an erection he definitely couldn’t disguise even with that tiny towel on. It’s not necessary now. 

Joseph’s door is open. Perhaps on purpose, perhaps a slip-up, it doesn’t matter now.

The object of his desires is on the bed, completely naked, legs spread facing the door and fist wrapped tightly around his dick. He is still wearing the mask and it’s making Caesar turn red with anger, and that’s not what he wants at the moment. 

He doesn’t let Joseph speak before taking a few hurried steps toward him and unclasping his mask using his full hamon strength.

“At least have the decency to take this thing off if you’re going to do something like that” Caesar growls. He wants to convey the urgency in his voice. He wants the other to be acutely aware of how he craves this, for how long he has been craving this. He pulls away from Joseph’s face and stands up again from his crouching position. He’s expecting Joseph’s next actions. Will he engage in their usual banter? Or will he take another approach? 

“Weren’t you the one who said I should wear it at all times, no matter what?” Ah, so the banter it is. Sure, he could do that just fine. Just focus on the banter and try not to keep his eyes glued to Joseph’s inviting cock.

“You do realize that it’s dangerous if your breathing is this ragged, though? Do you want to choke to death?” It’s likely that his training partner was as fixated on pleasuring himself that he totally forgot what happens if his breathing isn’t stable enough.

“Maybe you want to choke me, Caesarino?” Joseph’s comeback sounds hot. Too hot. Caesar’s thought of a few different things he’d like to do to Joseph and vice versa, but that was not on the list. Now it is, for sure. What kind of expression would the other make? Would he have a pleading look on his glassy eyes on the verge of tearing up, flushed cheeks? 

“You forgot the ‘to death’ bit’” Caesar snaps. The banter is a top priority (for now).

“Nahhh you want me alive, or at least that’s what it sounded like when you were in the shower” Joseph sounds confident. He must think he can control the other’s reactions just because he’s heard him moaning his name (it’s partially true though).

“So you did take a peek” Caesar confirms.

“Yup! And don’t fuck with me, you wanted me to” Joseph states with his usual beaming smile that make Caesar feel week in the knees-

“Your next words will be ‘Oh, I will fuck with you, Jojo’.” Huh. So he will keep doing that even in this kind of situation. 

“Oh, I will fuck-” He doesn’t get to end the sentence. Not when a clearly needy and desperate, maskless Joseph Joestar pulls him down with his trademark brute force and smashes his mouth against Caesar.  The angle is terrible. It’s awkward and let’s not forget that Caesar is still wet, naked, and hard, so they should probably get comfortable for their own benefit. But Joseph Joestar is impatient, inexperienced, and has probably had enough of dancing around Caesar. So the blond gives in to this awkward excuse of a kiss that, albeit being just a desperate bump of lips, feels heavenly. It’s not the kiss per se, but Joseph’s mannerisms. How he makes these tiny sounds when his lips are close to his partner’s, how he suddenly brings his hand to the golden locks and p-

“Ah, fuck!” Oops. Sensitive hair.

“Wow Caesarino, that was even louder than what I heard before” Joseph said, his usual wide smile now turned into the smirk he has on his face when he feels he’s in control.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, but can you please make room for me on the bed? This position is uncomfortable”  Caesar bites back, there’s not really an ill intent behind this remark, but he’s about to get off for the first time in what feels like ages, and it sure as hell it’s not going to be something half-assed.

“But you’re wet!” Joseph exclaims, and along with his pouty face Caesar finds it almost adorable.

“Well, I’m certainly not the only one,” Caesar replies. Get the hint already, Jojo. 

“Ugh, fine” Joseph complains, though it doesn’t sound menacing at all. He probably is just as tired as Caesar of pretending that nothing is happening between them. That they’ve been wanting this since they met. That they do not just want to jack off on their own and forget about it, they want this. 

Joseph does, indeed, make room for Caesar in the bed, but not as he had expected the other to. In fact, he doesn’t move from his position on the bed, he’s still laying on his back, but his eyes stare deeply into Caesar’s and he raises his hand as a sign to motion Caesar to come closer.

“Is this ‘making room’ to you, Jojo?” The question is genuine, he wasn’t imagining this after all.

“Well, there is plenty of it. On top of me.” Joseph states with a glint of mischievousness lacing his voice, and who is Caesar to say no to that, really.

“Heh, desperate, aren’t we?” He asks anyway.

“Says the one who’s left the door on purpose for me to see you naked. You’re such an exhibitionist.” That’s not technically a lie, but…

“But you love that, don’t you?”

Joseph tries to snort or maybe come up with a witty remark, but Caesar beats him to it. They kiss properly this time. Caesar is taking the lead, and Joseph isn’t shy at all to follow all the silent instructions his training partner is giving him. When Caesar darts his tongue on his bottom lip, the younger one complies. As soon as their kiss turns open mouthed and messy, the brunet starts getting louder, not holding back anymore. He might be in fact so enticed that he has probably forgotten how thin the walls are and why they wanted to jerk off in the shower in the first place. But Caesar loves these little moans and is determined to coax more of them from Joseph. Then, without breaking the kiss, he brings one hand to one of Joseph’s nipples. They are already stiff, so twisting the bud in his fingers feels amazing, for both of them, if Joseph breaking the kiss so he can moan in full force is anything to go by. 

They don’t speak about what to do next. They know.

Caesar takes both of their cocks in his hand and starts pumping in slow motion. 

“Fuck, feels so good…” The brunet moans, he seems way too into this already, but it can get better than this. Way better than this.

“Do you want me to go faster?” The blond asks, still stroking both of them at a tortuously slow pace so he can taunt the other a little bit.

“You don’t even have to ask” Huh, once a cocky bastard always a cocky bastard.

“But you do.” Caesar replies, trying to get a reaction out of the younger boy.

“Go faster.” Joseph commands, except he shouldn’t be the one doing that.

“I said ask.” He then breaks their contact. Instead, he brings his hand to Joseph’s mouth and slips his fingers inside. God, his mouth feels so good… Joseph’s tongue is so eager swirling around them and coating them in a generous amount of spit, it’s driving Caesar crazy. It doesn’t last long though, the other tries to speak and Caesar decides that he may have something interesting to say.

“Please… go faster… I need more…” Joseph pleads. Damn, is Joseph hot when he begs. 

“Good boy” These words seem to have an amazing effect on Joseph, because his cheeks flush even redder and the lust clouding his eyes is even more apparent now. 

“Say my name.” Caesar orders. His hand is back on both of their dicks, but remains static.

“Caesar. God, Caesar, I want this so much, I want you so m- Ahh!” The brunet’s words turn into a long, hot moan when Caesar speeds up his pace. The contact feels so, so good. Not even the greatest quick handjob he could have given himself in the shower feels as this does. They are both moaning now, there’s no point in concealing that both of them are actually desperate sluts for each other, wanting to be seen, wanting to be touched. 

“A-ah Caesar, you’re making me sweat!” Odd, to be complaining about that. Maybe Caesar is not the only one turned on by strong scents, because precum is already leaking from the tip of Joseph’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s the idea” Caesar inhales the smell in the room. Both of their sweets combined with the rest of Caesar’s shampoo aroma in the air. It’s both an addictive and dangerous mixtures in all fucking ways.

“You smell amazing, Jojo” Caesar coos. He’s close, and by how tightly Joseph has just the eyes, the other must be too.

“C-caesar, I’m close!” And he comes without another prior warning (Caesar I'll make sure to punish him for not asking for permission later), and it takes a few more strokes of their dicks covered in Joseph’s cum to climax as well. They’ve made such a mess on the bed, and mostly, on their bodies, but god was that good. 

“We’re dirty.” Caesar states, matter of factly. He’s still panting and gasping for air, that was more intense than anything he could think of.

“Well, that was to be expected.” Joseph chuckles. He looks spent, but he has a shy smile on his face. 

“Shall we clean ourselves up?” Caesar offers, bringing himself closer to the other and kissing his lips gently.

“Wait, ‘ourselves’?” The other asks.

“Yeah, moron, I’m telling you I want to shower together. You really need to clean your dirty body.” The blond states, they are in no condition to slack off.

“You seemed to love my dirty body before.” Joseph flirtfully replies, of course he was going to bring that up.

“Oh, shut up” Comes Caesar’s response, but it’s playful. They kiss again for a few seconds. “We’re going to get ourselves clean, we're even going to glow brighter than the sun” Well, that was sappy, but after all, there’s no point in denying he has romantic feelings for his…training partner? at this point.

“You know what else shines brighter than the sun?” He doesn’t give time for a response “My love for you, Caesarino”. 

And in other circumstances, the blond would have rolled his eyes and ignored the remark, but now he’s just so blissfully happy that he can’t think straight, so he just asks Joseph for tissues and they head to the shower hand in hand.