#i miss reading and reviewing and encouraging | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

faeryarchives · 5 months ago

Text

hey chat! (first years x gn! streamer reader!)

summary: random but cutesy moments with your bf and brother ortho while being on air warning: modern au! fluff just fluff and rusty writing 🙂‍↕️ characters: twst nrc first years notes: platonic/familial section for ortho (you being the shroud's sibling) !! recently read some streamer au and it made me yearn and now im dragging you guys with me 😁 + longest one i've written ...

check out the art made by our lovley marj 🤍

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune !! her dividers are rlly cute check it out 🤍

✧.* ace trappola

being a streamer with a clingy boyfriend is really interesting

you are a pretty well known streamer mainly focusing on rpg games and movie reviews

and you also have a pretty good fanbase - they are pretty chill, encouraging and welcoming to newcomers especially in chat (maybe the chat do reflect the streamer)

they are pretty used to the times where you would start your stream with ace in the camera view sitting next to you

the loading screen finally disappeared revealing you on screen waving at the camera. "heya (fandom name) and non-(fandom name), welcome to the stream!" a laugh escaped your lips as the chat start to flood greetings, some were spamming hearts, some are getting creative with their comments and only one stood out to you. (name)clips: our favorite most beautiful wonderful (name) i hope you had a good day! please beware of red haired rats nowadays! and oh hi ace, i guess "oh you are worried for me? sure thing, i will look out for red haired rats, right babe?" "not you again (name)clips, i know you love my partner but they would pick me over you at any day!"

while they always joke around with you and ace, you `can see how they adore your boyfriend as much as they adore you

creates compilation of you and ace during your streams + ace is a regular watcher of your fandom clip channel

@ (name)clips uploaded a new video: when (name) is going crazy but their boyfriend is crazier @ thebestace: @ (username) SEE I TOLD YOU THAT U MISSED THAT ONE SPOT @ (username): i am kicking you out of our minecraft house 😡 NAWT MY FAULT YOU SAID LETS NOT CHECK THAT ANYMORE?

and he sees it all and leave comments (very supportive bf real)

especially when the two of you do streams together specifically horror based games and movie review

"(NAME) WHERE ARE YOU?!" while trying to escape the monster in front of you, ace's character suddenly blurred in and bumped into you. his screams echoing through your headphones. "ace i am literally in front of your character- why are you closing your eyes?!" "I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO LOOK!" "just move to the sid-" before you two could move out of the way, the monster grabbed ace's character and killed him along with his screams leaving you to run away from the scene. "i will live for the both of us!" ilikepringles: LMAO NOT THE CUT OFF SCREAM?! deuce spade 🔧: wow what a normal horror game day with these two cowabunga: never heard someone hit that note so high gloomurai 🔧: what a diva trying to salvage your gameplay (you both didn't save before the encounter), you didn't notice how the door to your room opened only for ace to lean to lean on your side while burying his head into your shoulder. and as if your body was on automatic mode, you leaned your head next to him and hummed. "i hate you." "i love you too, do you want me to finish this game?" "mmmm, we could play it another time with more people..." a dangerous glint appeared in your eyes with both of you letting out evil giggles. epel felmier 🔧: just got chills running down my spine should i be scared (name) (last name) 🔧: oh yes you should be

✧.* deuce spade

now before you even start your streaming life, deuce was the one who helped you with setting up and with the computer troubleshooting

that is why when you experience trouble during your stream, chat would typically expect him to come in your room with snacks for both of you while he fix your computer

while deuce is more on hands on, this man doesn't really understand most of the slangs your chat use that's why sometimes you include him in reading your fandom tweets

"this is a surprise video but we are going to read some of your tweets under my hashtags! and by i meant we, my boyfriend is going to join our stream today!" not even a minute in of scanning through the compilation of your fandom tweets about you, deuce looks so confused. "from @ ieattoes, not gonna lie, i would let mx. (name) (last name) to break my back like a glow stick. i'll stay on my knees for them." the man looked spaced out for a moment before looking directly at the camera with the most worried look you had ever seen. "... first of all, i don't know if i should be concerned with your username or the tweet. second, what the fuc-" "okay, next one!"

deuce is also one of your moderators! and let me tell you how he is so strict with people breaking the rules ESPECIALLY if there were mean comments about you on your chat

while he do want to uphold his running for honors persona, people disrespecting you, your viewers and friends is a different thing

randomuserjvsd: why did they just passed through that chest? its one of the most important things to do in the game? rebeccabot: aren't you that one streamer accused of hacking? fgsvklvbdhsv: LMAO SHIT GAMEPLAY WATCH (name) DRAMA CHANNEL INSTEAD it was a norm for you to receive such comments but who cares? your community knows you well and you know you did nothing wrong but to play the game. "hi to my favorite haters, thank you for viewing my stream! i don't know about you but tuning in live helps me makes money so..." through out the game, you notice how one by one those channel start disappearing in the chat, peaking your interests. "oh my, that is interesting." one and only ace 🔧: LMAO ONE TAP DEUCE STRIKES AGAIN deuce spade🔧: don't worry love, just continue your stream 😊

deuce's mom, dylla, knows about your hobby and fully supports you with it! even sending you some gifts to try on stream and promote them

pretty sure deuce and his mom are one of your biggest supporters in the fan base really - like mother like son (they are leading the fan war whenever someone drags you into a mess)

he knows he is not much of a gamer but man will go lengths for you in the game

(name) (lastname) @(username) guys 🥹 my bf went through multiple domain runs to build his characters and help me with the boss and explore the new areas in fontaine + liyue 🥹 (he suck at playing games) even in star rail so he could understand what i yap about 🥹 879 replies 11.5k retweets 1.2k quotes 90k likes @ thebestace - if my man isn't like this then i eon't want hiim @ (username) - GAY SPOTTED IN REPLIES?!?!?! @ cddiamond - HAPPY PRIDE 🌈🏳️‍🌈 @ jamilviper - congratulations @ spadecued - hey i don't suck that much at games :( @ (username) - remember how you died to a ruin hunter @ spadecued - that was when i start playing the game ??

✧.* jack howl

"... since we ended the game late and some of you don't want to leave yet, why don't we have a quick chat?" while you are having a small talk with your viewers after finishing your nth game run, your chat start to flood the stream at a fast pace ji9star: are my eyes playing me or something just passed through (name's) door? lightray: and it's 3am too... kreideprinz: how can you guys see a shadow when their hallway is so dark? "shadow?" curious, the viewers could only watch as you stood up and peeked out of your room. for a moment, you looked shocked and honestly the chat couldn't do anything anyways but what surprised them when that same shadow patted your head and urged you back inside. https.(name): A HAND?!?!?! (name)luvr: that is actually me scaratoes: stop the delusions ruggie bucchi 🔧: woah a mystery someone 🤭 "don't worry guys, it not a bad ghost. its a friendly neighborhood one! ace can prove it, right?"

being very open and active in your social media account, your viewers didn't expect you to be in a relationship!

sure as the kind of person who is hands on in academics and games, they didn't think you would still have time for a special someone!

its not like they are mad - they are happy !! but more like curious on who is the mystery guy!

"who is the mystery guy?" you stopped in your tracks to look at someone off camera and laughed, not wanting to spill the beans so early. the view count did increased once you reach out of the camera view only to show to the camera that you are holding someone's hand. cater diamond 🔧: oh you crazy 😭 "there is no fun if our mystery person got revealed so early, so why don't we start a game?"

in no time #friendlyneighborhoodghost start trending on twitter (not calling that app as X) - speculations about the mystery person

(name) (lastname) @(username) you guys are funny 😂 how are you so wrong about it? good luck guessing because he is also having fun with all your tweets 🤭 who knows he might be your mutual 1k replies 23.5k retweets 3.5k quotes 400k likes @ (name)clips - HOLY SHHIT WE GOT A CLUE ITS A GUY SPREAD THE WORD! @ (name)luvr - i am that mutual @ https.(name) - sweetie we support you but not with this one @ azulstan - no wait what if oomf is cooking something @ leonakingscholar - how are you two such trolls @ (name)bf 🔒 - whatever they say goes 🫡 @ jackloml 🔒 - ily 😘

its not helping them at all when you laugh at each speculations, because some of them were actually crazy

as if to add insult to injury, the mystery guy would come in your stream fully clothed and would randomly hug you from behind, - his face would always be out of camera's view and you made sure of that

it went on for months and finally, something happened

"... i don't think that was the best ending of the game, we could've save some playable character-" before finishing your insight on the game's ending, jack entered your room, his earphones on and probably just got home from training, not noticing how you were still on stream. "hey love, i am going to cook for our dinner, do you want anything?" at first there was silence, not noticing how you just froze in place and looking at him in shock. jack felt there was something wrong and finally removed his earphone, realizing that you were unmuted and your viewers probably heard it on live. "...oh." livelaughlove(name): THEY BAGGED THE ATHLETE?! jackstan: this is the best day of my life my two fave are together 😭 one and only ace🔧: LMFAO U STUPID ruggie bucchi 🔧: U HAD ONE JOB 😭 now i have to pay leona $20 thee leona kingscholar 🔧: hah told you i'm right "guess the secret is out now, finally!" you rolled your chair away from your chair to come your boyfriend and hug him from behind - proudly showing him on screen. "so yeah, this is our friendly neighborhood ghost! you guys may know him as the athlete but he is pretty active in the fandom too, right?" "i'm not subtle about being yours too, its not my fault no one believes me." scanning through his phone, jack showed a particular twitter account that sent the chat through more frenzy. white beast @(name)luvr told you guys i'm the real deal. love you @ (username) 259 replies 2k retweets 1.5k quotes 50k likes @ (username) - love u too 🤍 @ https.(name) - IT WAS REAL THE ENTIRE TIME? @ (username) - told you guys he was among you 😝

✧.* epel felmier

it was funny how you two first met because it was just on pure accident that you got to team up in a random 5 man team

and the two of you carried your team leading to more duo team up with each other

turns out you have a lot in common too, what a strange coincidence!

and now you live together 🥂

"how did you and epel got together? oh that's such a good question!" you twirled your gaming chair around - huge grin apparent with a mischievous glint in your eyes hayikeva: not the scary vibes all of the sudden 😭 jiminijipity: they were so waiting for this moment to come kandii783: LMAO ON THE OTHER STREAM EPEL JUST GOT SHIVERS "so funny thing! you guys already know how we met through valo and we got to know each other more through discord and collaborations with other streamers. while we only play fps and rpg games on stream, we play some game specifically for two players only!" epel felmier 🔧: ??? epel felmier 🔧: what r u talking abt epel felmier 🔧: R U BACKSTABBING ME?! bokuaka4ever: WHO CALLED HIS ASS HERE? (name)#1fan: what kind of games were you two playing? "oh hi epel, no i am not backstabbing you, it's the opposite - i am sharing how we got to know love! why don't you guys guess what kind of games we play?" teresita: roblox? randomuserh: GEOGUESSER epel felmier 🔧: get that away from me "don't mind him, we almost ruined our relationship fighting about the capital of australia." rook hunt 🔧: I KNOW THE ANSWER!! epel felmier 🔧: what are YOU doing here?! leona kingscholar 🔧: its not like it was a secret, it was obvious afterall mwishxr: WHOA THEE LEONA SPEAKS "hush you two don't spoil the surprise!" as the two streamers appeared on chat, more and more people start to appear too, mostly the familiar ones. ace trappola 🔧: real i have to agree w leona on this one ruggie bucchi 🔧: (2) deuce spade 🔧: (3) jack howl 🔧: wow this is surprising sukisuki: IJBOL DID THE WHOLE GANG TUNED IN TO EXPOSE EPEL? yuriified: this is the real power of friendship epel felmier 🔧: this is not friendship this is BULLYING "alright, i guess if he won't tell then i will - we often play sky: children of light. we play other games like minecraft or stardew valley but epel in this game is so amazing because he is guiding me throughout the game and everything." epel felmier 🔧: ihy 😡 epel felmier 🔧: i am taking tubby with me 😡 sleep outside tonight "wait. no, okay i'm ending the stream" and you really did end the stream on the spot

you apologized with tears that night (no not really)

both of your fandoms know about tubby - your adopted dog/child and he will witness his parents (mostly epel) screaming at random people in game to the point that he will bark along side your screams

but sometimes u have your off days too so there were times where you might have bad game plays -> getting trashtalked by your random teammates

as soon as you peeked at the corner, your character suddenly fell down after getting headshot by the enemy team. frustrated, you let out a groan before burring your head into the pillow next to you. "(nickname) do you wan to take a break?" "no i can still go for one game, i'm really sorry epel. after i told you we would rank up..." "it's oka-... what the fuck?" surprised at the sudden change in attitude and the sound of your boyfriend's furious typing ringing in your ears, you automatically looked at the team chat realizing why he suddenly became mad. randomnamehere: wtf if you are going to troll can you not do it here? randomnamehere: so much so for being a (username) fake randomnamehere2: that is so embarrassing get your ass off rank noob (username): have u seen your stats, been covering for your skill issue the whole game "if i wasn't a streamer, i would've talked back about his ass gaming very much." applelppa: why don't you get your ass off that pc and touch grass and have a touch with nature bc YOU TWO ARE THE ONES WITH THE MOST DEATHS?! **applelppa has been muted for 24 hours** "love, you got muted again..." "COWARDS I TELL YOU! YOUR MOM WILL NEVER BE PROUD OF YOU!" "epel-" "WHY DON'T YOU *BEEP* Y-" "BRO, WAIT CALM DOWN! I AM ON LIVE!"

✧.* ortho shroud

this little guy is a regular at your stream no doubt it!

it would be more surprising not to see ortho in one of your streams rather than being in it

ortho would entertain your viewers while you go try to tell idia to tone his screaming down (real)

"okay so do you think i should change furina's artifact or not?" leaning over your shoulder, your brother took a closer look humming, analyzing everything then shaking his head. "no, your build is actually perfect, i think you should focus more on-" "AHHHH I HATE THIS GAME!" a loud scream followed by a loud thud from the room above you cause a thousand of laughing emoji to roll in the chat. jiminijipity: lolololololo mamasita: the eldest sibling is back at it again lolololol ace trappola 🔧: did idia just died or something jamil viper 🔧: as someone who plays league, he is pretty relatable... "... not this again, ortho keep them entertained for me will you?" with annod, you left the room running and ortho casually twirling around his chair, waving excitedly at the camera. "hello everyone! how are you all doing?" orthofanreal: HI ORTHO petuniaaaa: hello ortho how are YOU doing? skibidirdir: its a miracle your neighbors haven't filed a complaint with how noisy your sibling gets in playing games "we are sure noisy, but the truth is we don't actually have any neighbors, it gets pretty lonely here at times." in the viewer's eyes, they can see ortho looking out of your window longingly before shrugging what ever was clouding his mind and smiled. "you guys might already know that our parents are really busy leaving us three to stick together most of the time. and i am glad that (name) and big brother idia would include me in their livestream so i won't feel lonely." https.shroudsiblings: oh no... who is chopping the onions :( jack howl 🔧: you know you can come over here evey once in a while right? yuu 🔧: ORTHOOOO 🙁 there were several crying emoji flooding in as well as the sound of someone crying behind him. the youngest shroud turned around to see his older siblings at the door way, holding in their tears - obviously hearing what he just said. "since when did you guys got here?" "*sniff* okay fuck league and genshin we are going to play mario kart."

it may come as a surprise but ortho is actually the best player out of the three of you

ortho being first followed by idia and you at dead last 😅

but hey who cares if you are last?! you could even play the most boring game ever but ortho will always make it like its made for fun

sometimes you would try to entice ortho with his favorite food just to turn on idia on voting what to play on game and movie night

(name) (lastname) @(username) i love my siblings very much (don't mind the ugly one at the right) 459 replies 2.5k retweets 1.1k quotes 40k likes @ orthoshroud: but isn't that big brother idia on the right? @ (username): exactly 🥰 dont mind him at all our youngest 🤍 @ randomuser: loolololol agreed @ (username): @ randomuser shut the fuck up only i can insult idia @ gloomrai: I SEE HOW IT IS I AM TELLING MOM @ mrsshroud: yeah about that idy... @ (username): IJBOL

✧.* sebek zigvolt

and if i speak - this man will get everything just to support you

and i mean everything: your channel subscription, merch, plushie, photo cards that he made and he will still support you by sending donations + gifting subs to your fandom

sebek is very proud of you real! he is very vocal about it and he really feels giddy when you invite him to your streams

(name) (lastname) @(username) okay new waiting room for you all <3 and donations are still off so it's a sign for y'all to save money I AM LOOKING AT YOU MISTER @ wanisama 😾 (insert twitch link) 233 replies 1.5k retweets 900 quotes 20k likes @ gloomrai: to those non (fandom name) its like putting a kpop stan on merch ban for their fave artist @ lilredbat: and i was about to sen you some too @ (username): SO YOU ARE THE ONE INFLUENCING HIM 🫵 @ wanisama: :( @ (username): oh don't you go all sad on me now mister YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH 😾

but it won't be too long until he would do it again - just like a routine 😭 that is just how he shows his love okay

other than that, sebek is a pretty cuddly person and pretty much let you do what you want

while you were streaming, you suddenly faced the man with your arms wide out. "sebek babe, come here." before his mind could even process anything, his body moved on his own and quickly wrapped his arms around you. even giving you a a kiss on the head. "what's wrong?" "hehe, nothing. can you sit next to me? we just finished playing." "sure, do you want me to get some snacks?" you cuddled each other, him wrapping you into his hoodie, until you finally finished the stream.

its funny how your viewers would comment on how you are endorsing more of sebek's hoodie rather than your own merch 😭

with your relationship being out in the open, it's no surprise that both of you would shoot some videos and post stories on instagram like cooking and this is where they realize sebek is more like a boyfailure disaster than the one they see on live

"sebek?" "...yes?" "... can you tell me what are you doing right now?" in the video, sebek was trying to hide something behind him, ribbons and papers scattered around his feet. sebek avoided your gaze, hand flailing in the air. "i-i thought you were streaming?" the more you step forwards the more he tried o hide that certain thing behind him "yeah but it got delayed because the game had a sudden maintenace... oh my god is that the one i wanted to buy the other day-" "OH MY MY PHONE JUST STARTED RINGING, I THINK WAKA-SAMA IS CALLING FOR ME. FAREWELL MY LOVE."

yeaaa and don't get him with the q and a because he has a one track mind if there are questions regarding about you

i think he knows you more more than yourself

sometimes though sebek would join his friends' games and content involving everyone asking each other questions and such (like 2 truths one false or a batsu game).

"okay, my turn!" after ace spin the bottle, it landed on sebek who looks like he was about to say something that would change the world. "ah, it's sebek. now this is hard." "give me your worst, trappola." the green haired man challenged, knowing he will emerge as the victor (man vs himself). "alright! if you could kiss anyone in the world without consequences, who would it be?" "easy, my wonderful partner (name) (last name)." "that shit don't count, you do that anyways!" "@ (username) in every social media platform." riddle rosehearts 🔧: never let ace interrogate anybody (name) (last name) 🔧: AWWW BABE <333 I LOVE YOU TOO (name) (last name) 🔧: and ace open up i'm at your door 😃😊

708 notes · View notes

headkiss · 1 year ago

Text

you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

3K notes · View notes

anim-ttrpgs · 5 months ago

Text

Re-Introducing the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club & FAQ

Alright, so, we have this discord server called the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, and it’s exactly what it sounds like. A discord server, run by the A.N.I.M. Team, for reading, analyzing, and playing TTRPGs. It’s free to join, and at the time of writing this it has a community of nearly 200 members.

Also at the time of writing this, for a limited time, you can get a FREE PDF of the July 11th update of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy just by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club! This is a huge upgrade over the free May 10th version!

Here’s how the book club operates:

Nominations. Members nominate RPGs they wanna play.

Voting. After we finish the current RPG, we vote on what the next one will be. You can vote for as many nominations as you want, and nominations with the most votes wins.

Reading. We encourage you to buy the winning game to support the developers, but if you can’t for any reason, we will find a way to get you a PDF. A rough deadline is set that will allow everyone to read the rulebook at a rate of about 10 pages a day, though reading faster or slower is okay.

Playing. We assign GMs on a volunteer basis, and players are assigned to groups with GMs based on schedule compatibility. Each group plays the same adventure module, so each group will have commonalities in their adventure that they can talk about and compare their experiences with, even with different GMs, players, and characters.

Repeat. Voting begins anew with the nominations that we have accumulated in the mean time.

A.N.I.M.’s current Patreon goal is also tied to the Book Club. If y’all can raise our Patreon income to $310/month, that will allow us to set aside manpower to carve out and organize a small additional space within the ANIM TTRPG Book Club server for other games which do not fit the nomination criteria for the main book club! At the time of writing this, it sits at $259/$310. Signing up to the patreon grants you access to monthly rulebook updates as we continue to finish the game, adventure modules, short fiction, and our patreon discord server.

Below is a bit of an FAQ as an attempt to quell any concerns or hesitations

“The Book Club games probably don’t fit with my schedule.”

They might! Because we assign multiple different groups based on schedule compatibility, the book club games are actually very very schedule-flexible! You might be surprised!

And if they still don’t, even just reading the rulebook and joining in on discussions is a valuable form of participation!

“I’m afraid to play with strangers.”

They won’t exactly be strangers if you hang out around them in the book club long enough! Yes we do get what you mean, but there’s nothing to worry about. The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club is a safe community, and we have rules and, more importantly, procedures designed to make playing with relative strangers as smooth an experience as it can be!

“What if I don’t like the RPG that wins the vote?”

While we encourage you to step a little out of your comfort zone, participation in any given round of the book club is not mandatory, there’s no punishment for sitting out! It’s cool to just hang around in the discord server and discuss virtually anything if you want to.

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

280 notes · View notes

cosmerelists · 8 months ago

Text

Cosmere Characters: Would They Be Good at Pulling Pranks?

Yesterday was April 1, aka April Fools Day, a holiday that encourages people to pull pranks. So that got me wondering: if such a holiday existed in the Cosmere, would various Cosmere characters be good at this whole "pranking" thing?

1. Syl: Yes, but only of one type

Syl is a prankster in canon: she likes to stick things together! Your shoes to your floor, your hand to your spear, your butt to your chair...so yes, she is great at pranks. I bet if April Fool's Day existed in the Cosmere, she would be an absolute menace.

2. Lopen: Depends on who you ask...

I think Lopen's pranks would be like his jokes: not intended to be mean, but actually kinda mean. In Dawnshard, Lopen came to learn that his jokes were not universally fun and beloved, and I feel like his journey with pranks would necessarily be similar. He'd love pulling them, though!

3. Wayne: Yes, and everyone has fun

Sanderson once said that the difference between Lopen & Wayne is that Wayne can read the room. So I think Wayne would not only like pranks, but would also be more aware of their effect. Like...if Lopen is tying your shoelaces together when you're late for work, Wayne is putting googly eyes (which he invented) on all of your family photos while you're out.

4. Sarene: Yes (mostly against Iadon)

Sarene, Miss Malicious-compliance-and-weaponizer-of-other-people's-misogyny, would love an excuse to "accidentally" prank Iadon. She'd either do really obvious pranks and blame them on feminine confusion ("Oh dear I just wanted to clean but I guess washing your portrait ruined it??") or do really sneaky pranks that no one could trace back to her (cut to Sarene secretly weakening the seams on all of Iadon's clothing so that a good sneeze will make them all fall off).

5. Kaladin: Not anymore

We know that in canon Kaladin pulled pranks as a kid--he told Tien to save a lurg to dump in their dad's bath later. But I feel like nowadays, Kaladin is too gloomy and glowering to pull pranks. He might just enjoy Syl's sometimes though...

6. Steris: Maybe they're just not the most creative...

I think that if a Pranking Holiday existed, Steris would study up and do a textbook prank. Like, she's replacing Wax's sugar bowl with salt, and then he drinks a sip of salty coffee, and then she says, "Ah ha! You have been Pranked per the Social Conventions of today's Holiday!" And Wax would be genuinely delighted.

7. Dalinar: No--not at any point in his life

Blackthorn Dalinar would think a prank is "stabbing a guy in the leg and laughing." Modern-day Dalinar would be puzzled that anyone actually does pranks--aren't they, you know, kinda beneath you? The Codes would DEFINITELY not allow them.

8. Sigzil: No, too much paperwork

The Prank Authorization Form is 7 pages and takes 5 weeks for review and approval. Who has that kind of time???

9. Lift: Yes, absolutely

I can see Lift positioning buckets of water over, like, Dalinar's door or slicking the floor right as that merchant she saw yelling at kids walks by. Now--imagine Lift & Syl going on a prank spree together. You're welcome.

10. Hoid: Nobody knows

Hoid put paperclips in the pockets of every single one of Elhokar's outfits. He put edible glitter into Rock's stew, turning it into Glitter Stew. He found one of Kaladin's buttons on the ground and straight-up ate it while making direct eye contact.

But...were any of those things pranks? Were they plots? Were they just Hoid being Wit?

Nobody knows.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Syl #Lopen #Wayne #Sarene #Hoid #Kaladin #Lift #Sigzil #Dalinar #Steris

240 notes · View notes

yannaryartside · 3 months ago

Text

SYDNEY'S PART

THE ANALOGY OF THE PARTNER WITH ADDICTION

I just realized this parallel, and I have questions and feelings.

This second scene was one of the most frustrating moments for me, and that is saying a lot. It made me realize the crucial factor that could contribute to Sydcarmy not working despite the underlying feelings and connection.

The scene is obviously about how Sydeny feels guilty for not being able to stand to Carmy and make him stop the chaos. Maybe is also about feeling sad because she doesn't think that he wants to change for her, because if that were the case, he would have done it already. He has verbalized that intention and always, always, leaves her alone and behind (It is hard to keep with you sometimes).

I have been wrestling with the theory that Carmy's and Syd's relationship is acting as an analogy for an addict and their romantic partner. I have been reading this book: Loving someone in recovery. I still need to finish it, but it has given me some ideas. More extended meta-analyses on this subject are coming up. But I wanna concentrate on what the scene is hitting at (I miss ao3).

Notice in Brigade, the woman also says, "until the chemistry changes.", then in the very next scene, you have Sydney decipher a recipe just by chemistry logic, leaving Carmy impressed, and right after, carmy puts Sydney in charge of the restaurant. The clues are all there.

Also, notice how the woman at AA refers to the abuse of substances, but in Carmy's case, it also means abuse in the literal sense, verbal, psychological, and physical abuse.

The show has many scenes in which Sydney treats Carmy's issues with compassion and a firm hand.

"I don't want to be an asshole" "Don't be" aka: I know you know what is right and wrong despite feeling like shit, don't let it get over you.

She keeps her cool while Carmy makes impossible demands and screams. She helps Tina with her dish and completes the task without ever insulting or yelling back at anybody. The toxic techniques that Carmy learned that worked in the culinary industry, she refuses to accept as the norm. She is a chef Terry.

Finding the positive in the worst circumstances, aka, saying Cicero "You are here" or encouraging Richie and the staff. Even reviewing Carmy's recipes with patience and humor

"Is hard to keep with you sometimes' is key word here sometimes, aka: "because the problem is your issues, not you. You are a good person who is deeply hurting, but your actions have consequences for me and the people around you".

The thing is, if we are gonna talk about a partner with addiction, we need to establish the problem (the trauma) and the drugs. I remember watching a movie about addiction, a nurse saying, "Drugs are never the problem (for an addict), they are the solution.

So, the problem (the trauma)

The drug (solution)

You already know my theory that Claire is the equivalent of painkillers/anesthesia. A shallow but pleasing relationship that is always available to attend to your flaws without ever being actual medicine. Because to get better, painkillers are never enough.

BACK TO SYD

Syd really doesn't believe she has a say in what Carmy wants, (God she even believes she is not what Carmy wants, because he wants Claire, that is what it seems to her) just right before this dialogue, she asks him "Do you want me to say something?", from reading the book, it really reminded me of a partner feeling abandoned when the addict would resource to their drug of use to feel good or set back to old habits. That would leave the partner frustrated, depressed, and angry.

To be fair, the fact that Carmy is his boss should be added to the equation. They cannot even be called friends, so why should Sydney say something? Carmy is 24/7 in defense mode, saying things like "You don't have to say it, I already know."

He offered Syd equal partnership, but she didn’t get it. If they had been equal partners she definitely has the power to say something. But she didn’t take the offer, maybe because she suspected (or feared) they would never be on equal ground.

THE KEY QUESTION IS, WHAT DOES SYDNEY SAY?

I am genuinely curious about this. Is Syd (or her leaving) supposed to be a wake-up call to Carmy? That he fucked up something that brought him genuine joy and connection because Syd knew the real him, while Claire liked Logan and Carmy's brokenness? The way Claire would enable him in his bad tendencies? How is he gonna realize all that?

Sydney needs more emotional resources when it comes to conflict resolution. So far, her techniques have been using patience and love (water) against toxicity and bad patterns (fire). There is definitely a need for that. That is what turned everybody around and helped them become their best selves. But it has a toll. And she started the season with "I don't know what the fuck to do right now" and ended the season without a solution. Maybe walking away is the solution.

SYDNEY'S PART

What could this mean for Syd? Sydney may confront Carmy or not. I guess we will have to see.

#please forgive me for my non existent computer skills #sydcarmy meta #the bear #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #carmy x sydney #carmy the bear #sydney x carmy #anti claire bear

109 notes · View notes

martybaker · 1 year ago

Text

Whiskey for the good times

It’s a warm June evening and Dream is sitting at the end of the bar at The New Inn, watching Hob at work.

Priya the bartender called in sick and so Hob is manning the bar himself tonight. The inn is full of patrons and Hob is kept busy, clever fingers handling various bottles of liquor. He chats amicably with regulars and newcomers alike, ever with a kind smile on his face, even though there is a sheen of sweat at his temples, testament to his hard work.

And despite the crowd, whenever there’s a lull in the influx of warm bodies demanding his attention, he finds a moment to wind back to Dream, to give him a refill, a new anecdote, an observation about a patron, or just a smile before he’s called back to duty.

Dream enjoys their conversations, but he enjoys simply watching Hob at work as well, and he has had plenty of opportunities to do so over the last year. Since his escape from Fawney Rig and the subsequent demands of his office, his visits to the Waking world had became much more frequent. But not only because of his duties, but also thanks to the newly rediscovered pleasure of Hob’s company.

They agreed to meet once a month, so Hob could more thoroughly catch Dream up on all the things he has missed during the years of his…detainment, and slowly conversations over a drink turned into invites to, quote, “hang out” with Hob outside of the New Inn as well. Some things are better shown than told, he said, and Dream smiled and complied rather too easily. Their monthly meetings became weekly, and though Dream was notoriously prone to getting lost in his work, he suddenly found himself in the habit of time keeping and counting down days until their next meeting.

Today, however, is special. The calendar on the wall reads June 7th in bold black letters. A day as any other, but also their day.

Dream watches Hob, circling the rim of his glass with his finger.

Currently Hob is held at the other end of the bar by a pair of young giggling women he seems to be familiar with, presumably his students. They keep glancing in Dream’s direction, and Hob’s face is growing redder by the minute. He keeps shaking his head, disputing whatever notion they’re pushing, but the girls seem relentless.

Eventually, when he makes his way back to Dream, Dream cannot help letting his curiosity take over.

“Your students?”

Hob nods, a faint flush still visible on his cheeks.

“What were they inquiring about?”

Hob huffs, shaking his head. “They were making fun of their old history professor, s’wat they been doing.”

Dream rises his eyebrows at him.

Hob sighs, fidgeting under the gaze, but eventually breaks.

“They were asking if you were a good kisser,” he admits, darting away with his gaze as soon as he says it, tugging nervously at his ear.

Dream’s eyebrows shoot up even higher. “Were they? What did you tell them?”

Hob blinks at him. “The truth? That I wouldn’t know?”

“Hmm,” Dream hums, twirling the amber liquid in his glass. He slowly puts it down, then reaches over the bartop and pulls Hob towards him, leaning in to join their lips. Hob makes a noise of surpise against him but then falls into the kiss, tasting the whiskey from Dream’s lips.

When Dream pulls back, Hob sways on his feet, looking lost with his mouth hanging open and pupils dilated. His hands clench, frozen in midair as if he wanted to hold onto Dream but wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

There’s a whistle and laughter from the other side of the bar.

Dream picks up his glass again and smiles at Hob beatifically. “There. So you could give them an honest review.”

Hob blinks at him and makes a noise like a squeezed rubber duck.

Dream cannot help the grin tugging on his lips as he nods in the direction of the women, encouraging Hob to return back to them to relay his impressions.

Hob unfreezes slowly, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair and muttering “bloody hell” under his breath before he hesitently makes his way back to the other side of the bar. The students immediately latch onto him, rejuvinated by the display as well as the liquir running through their veins.

When Hob comes back to uncork new bottles for the customers he is unusually quiet and the red on his cheeks seems to have made a permanent residence there.

As he grabs for a bottle of tequilla it slips from his fingers and shatters on the floor, minutely interrupting the rumor of conversations before they’re picked up again.

“Bollocks!” He curses.

Dream hears himself laugh. Not a full on raucous laugh, just a chuckle, but Hob looks at him with wide eyes, as if he was seeing the eight wonder of the world.

Hob laughs too, breaking the moment, and returns his attention to the shattered bottle.

“Look what you’ve done to me!” he says, grabbing for a broom and glancing at Dream with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Menace.”

Dream hides his smile in his glass. He feels a sparkling feeling in his chest, which doesn’t seem right because alcohol shoud have no effect on him unless he lets it. Perhaps his control is slipping, or perhaps it’s just the pleasent buzz of the evening and good company.

Perhaps he doesn’t mind all that much, letting his control slip tonight.

Having cleaned the mess, Hob comes back to him, as he always does, and gives him a crooked smile. “You’ve just about made their day tonight. I won’t hear the end of it at the uni, thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Dream drawls, leaning his head on his hand. He gives Hob a once-over, gesturing at his shirt that’s been soaked by the alcohol. “You might want to take that off.”

Hob looks at his shirt, then back at Dream, huffing in disbelief. “Was that the plan all along??”

“An unforseen benefit.”

“Uhuh,” Hob says, giving Dream a dubious look. “Heavens, you are in a mood tonight. Should have given me a warning beforehand, I don’t know if I can survive a whole evening of this,” he says, gesturing at the whole of Dream.

“You can survive anything,” Dream reminds him.

“Physically, maybe, but my composure? My dignity? My sanity? I am really not all that sure, love.”

Dream smiles, keeps smiling, really, as he doesn’t seem to be able to do otherwise tonight. He downs the last sip of whiskey along with the sweet tingle of Hob’s endearment.

“Want a refill?” Hob nods at his empty glass. “Or would you like to try something new? Something more daring?” he says, rising his eyebrows in a challenge. “Since that seems to be the vibe tonight.”

Dream hums. “Perhaps i would like to try something old.”

If Dream knew Hob’s reactions to a little bit of flirting would be so entertaining, he would have endeavoured to do so sooner. Hob grows even redder in the face if that’s even possible, huffing and blinking rapidly, seemingly unable to decide what to do with his hands which he twists together, then crosses across his chest, then lets fall against his sides again, smoothing down the seams of his trousers.

He shakes his head and rubs his forehead.

“You’re something else, Dream,” he says with a deep sigh.

“Yes, that is a correct assesment.”

Hob rolls his eyes.

“Hey, Mickey!” He yells at a regular at a nearby table, “would you like to make a quick buck? Can you come over to man the bar for a minute? I need to change.”

“Sure thing, mate!”

Hob takes of his apron, muscles flexing underneath the shirt made half translucent, and Dream wants.

“Do you need assistance,” he asks nonsensically, but Hob understands it for the proposal that it is.

Hob’s eyes grow wide. He laughs, shaking his head. “Christ, if I were really working here I would get fired for this,” he says, but he beckons at Dream who slips from his chair and joins Hob at the other side of the bar. Hob puts his hand on his back and nudges him towards the backroom.

“Lucky you are the owner, then,” Dream points out.

“Yeah, lucky,” Hob says, hand slipping around Dream’s waist from behind, and kisses Dream’s neck as he closes the door behind them.

——————

Happy 7th of June dreamling nation!

Here’s something for ‘Ep6 continuation’ prompt of Dreamling Week :)

#dreamling #dreamlingweek2023 #dreamlingweek #dreamling week #dreamling week 2023 #my writing #the sandman #sandman #dream x hob #hob x dream #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream the endless #morpheus #sandman dreamling #not beta-ed we die like jessamy

622 notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 6 months ago

Text

And Baby Catfish Makes Three feat. Frankie Morales x Mouse (f!reader)

a HeftyThrowaway one shot drabble | Rated: PG-13 | word count: 855 warnings: Child birth, labor, pain, families - if you see that I missed anything, let me know!

A/N: finally! @xdaddysprincessxx put it, Mouse was beginning to pull a Bonnie from Family Guy with how long she was pregnant. Thank you to @thehalflifeofloveisforever for reviewing this ages ago, and for @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for reviewing it in the present day.

No more taglist | follow @beefnotes for fic updates.

The last centimeter was taking forever and was the most pain you’d ever experienced in your life. Frankie was now sitting in the bed with you leaned back between his legs, your back to his chest. You needed him like this, cocooning you with his large body, trying in the softest and sweetest ways to be your support. One hand was wiping your forehead and the other was being squeezed by the uncharacteristically strong grip of your own.

“Breathe, mama… you’re so close…”, he whispered encouragement while planting kisses on your sweaty hair.

You tried to breathe in the rhythm that you’d learned in lamaze, but it was near impossible with how much pressure and pain you felt.

“Doing so good, Mouse.”

*****

Hours went by and you felt like this would never end. Your mind was clouded and you had no idea how much time had gone by, you were now fully enveloped in your labor. The people in the hallway passing your room talking or machines making any noise around you were not even registering anymore.

You felt an immense pressure and all those books that said you would just know when to push were right.

“I feel like… I have to push… Frankie… please… I have to push….”, you mumbled, trying to sit up.

If you could have seen Frankie’s face when he heard you, you would have thought he’d won the lottery and watched a chicken get beheaded - both fear and excitement meshed and his heart just about leapt from his chest. He unwedged himself from behind you clumsily and pressed the call button. Almost instantly, a nurse with the name badge reading ‘Sherri’ came in hurriedly and smiled.

“I heard! It’s go time!”, she cheered far too enthusiastically for your liking at the moment. She checked you and hailed the doctor to come quickly.

Frankie moved to the side of the bed, as instructed by Sherri and stood by your side, holding one of your legs up, while Sherri held the other. The doctor arrived and got in place at the end of the bed.

*****

You’d been pushing for nearly an hour and you felt like you were going to pass out. “I… I can’t!”, you panted and wailed, looking up at Frankie, eyes pleading with him. “I can’t do this… I… please! Frankie… please let me stop!”

“Mama, you’re doing it right now. You gotta keep pushing.”, he murmured back, pressing a kiss to your sweaty hairline. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eye as you were giving birth to his baby. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole. “I know you can do it… come on, baby… keep pushing.”, he tried to keep his voice calm, but your pleading and cries for him were breaking his heart, causing a lump in his throat.

*****

Frankie counted to ten for every push and in between he pressed his mouth to your temple and whispered more words of encouragement while you panted and pleaded for this to be over. You turned to look him in the eyes and he smiled, leaned down and kissed you.

“Come on, mama.”, he whispered against your mouth.

“One more push… go!”, the doctor announced.

You gathered up all your strength and bore down as hard as you could, crying out as you did. Then you heard it. That perfect, beautiful, anguished noise.

You heard her.

Someone, you weren’t sure who, announced that it was a girl. Your girl. She was placed on your chest, and Frankie broke down, sobbing into your hair sweet thank you’s and I love you’s.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your little squalling, angry baby. The world stopped as you looked down at her and your heart broke and repaired itself a million times before you even could let the first tear drop fall. There she was. Every panic attack, every sleepless night, every pain, every sorrow, every moment of self-doubt was all worth it because she was here.

Through your tears, you managed to coo, “Hey Matilda… I’m your Mama.”

*****

Matilda Maria Ariidae Morales, also known as Taters, was everything and more that you and Frankie could hope for. It didn’t even register for you how much Frankie had missed out on bonding with Taters being that she was inside you for nine months, and now that Taters was out, he took every chance he could get to cuddle, snuggle, feed, change and bathe his sweet girl. Frankie truly took to being a dad like a fish to water, and you loved him all the more for it. Her first six weeks home were chaotic and calm, with little to no sleep juxtaposed to perfect moments. More often than not, her afternoon nap was on her daddy’s chest while he dozed on the recliner in the den, watching tv - just like you’d imagined and hoped.

Both of you had agreed that Will and Hannah were the perfect candidates to be Taters’ godparents, and while both of them cried when asked, agreeing to fulfill the honor, Will was utterly inconsolable as he held his god daughter for pictures.

--------<3---------

The Ariidae or ariid catfish are a family of catfish that mainly live in marine waters with many freshwater and brackish water species. They are found worldwide in tropical to warm temperate zones. The family includes about 143 species.

No more taglist | follow @beefnotes for fic updates.

#happy frankie friday #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #you ask beefro answers #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#you ask beefro answers #🥩#thot tank #hefty hefty hefty

100 notes · View notes

tokiwarcube · 4 months ago

Note

This is gonna be so random, but can we get dethklok headcanons of how they'd react to their s/o being a ghoul/ghoulette in Ghost, please? 😶

Less random than you'd think, actually! This prompt in particular was actually written with a ghoul/ette reader in mind, although it wasn't explicitly stated. I'm actually a huge Ghost fan, myself! Bonus points to anyone who can ID me in the movie, LMAO

I do encourage reading This one for a bit more instrument/element specifics, but regardless, do enjoy!

Nathan Explosion

Despite his fame, Nathan keeps his personal life a secret from the media — or well, as best as he can as one of the most famous men in the world. So in that sense, he kind of admires the anonymity you maintain. Or at least used to maintain, anyways.

He’s gotten sucked into the metal vs. not metal debate, and before seeing you perform, he absolutely lies on the latter half of the debate. But holy shit, talk about stage presence. He’s very proud of where Dethklok stands in a concert sense — seeing Dethklok is truly, a completely unforgettable experience — but Ghost is just… Brutal.

Performance-wise, he likes Year Zero the most — the first time he saw flames erupting over the stage, bathing you in hues of orange and white absolutely took his breath away. Any song where you get to shine is a favorite of his as well.

His favorite song overall is a toss up between Year Zero and Elizabeth, though. He likes the lyrical imagery of both, and really, what metal performer doesn’t have a soft spot for an song about Elizabeth Bathory?

He gets a bit jealous if you’re a little flirty on stage, especially because he can’t just swoop in to make his place clear, but he works through it.

He’s a little obsessed with the Era V outfits — don’t be too surprised if he gets a bit handsy when the mask comes off. Or before.

He fucking hates Plushia with a passion — he is convinced that its cursed, and will not allow him in the house.

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles LOVES Ghost once you introduce him, and not just because you’re in it. The very fun, in-your-face sexuality that comes with rituals is right up his alley, and the musical niche they fall into with regards to genre is just… Listen, he loves the heavy shit, but rock will always have a place in his heart.

Impera enjoyer till the end of his days. His favorite live song is Watcher in the Sky, both for the vibes and for how crazy you’re allowed to be on stage; however, he’s also rather partial to Mary on a Cross, for obvious reasons. It’s not his favorite musically, but he does think that the bit Papa does live is funny as fuck.

Assuming you’re a ghoul with a bit of movement, he likes to hang out with security so he can hit his vape and shotgun you from below. There are MANY videos of this circulating online, and you’ve gotta admit — it’s pretty hot. Sometimes he’ll indulge the rest of the ghouls if they try to jump on the train — he’s not greedy. Also, its funny.

He likes to suggest silly little bits to incorporate into future shows — whether or not they actually get through review is another thing, but he’s got some good ideas. He doesn’t mind if you get a bit flirty on stage either — hell, he thinks it’s hot as fuck, truth be told.

He always steals mummy bucks out of the cannons before they go off. Puts it in a money clip and everything, the bastard.

He thinks the military outfit is hot as hell, but also. You do look like a bug. And he won’t hesitate to rib you about it every now and then.

Misses Cowbell Ghoul every day of his life.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

He loves how camp Ghost is — all of the bits really make the show fun, and he loves that humor is incorporated so well. After catching enough of your Rituals, he starts bugging Nathan to incorporate some sort of spin off the “go fuck yourself” bit, and let me tell you, he’s CLOSE to getting his way.

He absolutely made fun of you when the Era V outfits got revealed… and never stopped. He loves the Era III and IV outfits so much more all around, and will never let them go. (I’m so sure that he’d like it more if he could see past the mask, but he just can’t. Quit staring at him with them big ole eyes!!!)

He still insists on tightening the bolo for you before you go on stage, though. And he secretly saves all of the gifs and videos of you on stage to watch when he misses you. So… maybe the mask does grow on him a little bit, loathe as he is to admit it.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but he 100% develops this weird, pretty one-sided rivalry with Dew. Is it because of the man beneath the mask? Is it some weird lead guitarist thing? Is it because he gets to work with you on stage, and Skwisgaar doesn’t? He’ll never tell you, but either way, he shoots some vile glares his way whenever you two interact on-stage.

There’s one particular video of Dew flashing the “you suck” sticker at him, and Skwis just glaring up a storm in response.

His favorite songs to hear live are either Mummy Dust or Cirice, and he always tries to coax you over to flirt with him a bit… and he’s usually successful He might be in the crowd at barrier, but he’s managed to cement himself as a staple of every ritual. Go figure.

(People online always complain about the giant at barrier though, please convince him to hang with security under the guise of sneaking kisses or something. People are So Sick of his tall ass, even if he does add to the show.)

Toki Wartooth

Ghost ticks so many boxes for Toki, so needless to say, he is ecstatic that you get to work with such a cool act!

His favorite album is a hard tie between Opus Eponymous and Prequelle, funnily enough. The former reminds him of his early days in metal, but he loves the overall vibes of Prequelle — very hard to choose between the two, for him.

After you introduced him to Ghost through your work, he actually delved a bit deeper, and got obsessed with Repugnant. He 100% prods you into prodding Mr. Toblerone Frog into doing more death metal stuff.

He absolutely makes bracelets to trade with fans — getting a bracelet made by Toki quickly becomes as legendary as getting a ghoul pick. Although there’s always exactly one bracelet per show that he makes with one of your spare picks that he hands out to one special person.

He has your ringtone set to If You Have Ghosts :’) He also very much loves the Ghesties bit, and there’s a nonzero chance that he’s changed your contact to be a gh- prefix of some sweet little petname he has for you.

His favorite song is easily Dance Macabre — both live and off the stage! This only doubles after the events of LA.

He saves mummy dust and confetti from every show that you do, and keeps it in his scrapbook.

He thinks the Era V outfit is really cute. You DO look like a bug… but you’re his bug :)

He has been begging for ghoul plushies since he started dating you; although, he is very happy to own a little Plushia. He thinks he’s cute.

William Murderface

Like Nathan, he has also gotten into online debates about whether or not Ghost is metal — except he takes the opposite position of Nathan. Ghost is metal as fuck to him. Listen, you don’t go on stage in front of that many people, make fun of God and everyone who worships him, and come out not being metal. Like the Satanism bit is whatever, but having the balls to go and make fun of that many people on stage? Metal.

He thought the old outfits were really boring, but he is nothing short of obsessed with Era V — for both you and Papa alike. He desperately wants a replica of Papa’s military jacket.

His favorite album overall is probably Infestissumam, but he’s also partial to Opus Eponymous. He’s been begging you to get talk Trickery Feet into getting Idolatrine on the setlist since you got him into Ghost — hell, if he ever gets the motivation to actually record Planet Piss, he’d love to do a cover of it.

Although his favorite songs to see live are probably either Mummy Dust or — after the LA show — Twenties. Twenties slides in very quick as his number one after the LA show.

He gets into arguments online about your characterization in fandom spaces, I’m sorry. He does indeed read fanfic, and he will be leaving “they would not fucking say that” comments.

He likes to banter back and forth at night about what your role would be in the clergy if you know, the whole bit was real. For someone who doesn’t give a fuck about religion, he actually puts a lot of thought into this.

#metalocalypse x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #toki wartooth x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #william murderface x reader #nathan explosion x reader #metalocalypse toki x reader #metalocalypse skwisgaar x reader #dethklok x reader #metalocalypse nathan x reader #metalocalypse pickles x reader

63 notes · View notes

erosmutt · 5 months ago

Text

!! READ !!

This is a serious post.

So, I'm sure we're aware it took me tagging Tumblr Support on here for them to review the appeal I issued last month. I was falsely flagged, and my blog was marked as explicit for a picture I uploaded to accompany my 'Straight To Video' Sam Monroe fic.

Now, it's all over with, and I'm glad, but I want to bring attention to the problem I brought up in my appeal - the disgusting thing that is allowed on Tumblr.

I'll begin this post with talking about Twitter (will refer to it as 'X' for convenience). About 2 years ago, there was a major issue on X which I'll refer to as 'The MAP Movement (TMM).'

TMM was a time where MAPs ("minor attracted persons," which are just pedophiles) were trying to weasel their way into the LGBT community, wanting to say that being a 'MAP' was a sexuality, a lifestyle. While TMM was going on, there was a flood of minors on X that called themselves 'AAMs' - "adult attracted minors." MAPs and AAMs went hand in hand, because they were feeding into each other's deplorable fantasies. Obviously, there is a difference between being a minor and having a crush on someone who happens to be an adult, and a minor who is self-aware and ENABLES pedophiles.

This is where Tumblr comes in.

When Twitter was rebranded to X and bought by Elon Musk, TMM, MAPs, and AAMs were wiped off the platform. A couple years ago, I would be spending most of my day reporting and blocking these disgusting people. Since they were run off X, they have since come to Tumblr.

Just as they did on X, they use "creative" tags such as the following, which is a list of terms for you to block.

— l0l1t4, l0l1t, l0l1, m4p, m4ppr1d3, m4pr1d3, pr0m4p, prom4p, 44m, aam, pr044m, pro44m, p3d0b41t, p3do, p3d0, p3d0p1l, p3d0ph1l3, pr0p3d0, j41lb41t — and any other combos of the letters and numbers that apply to MAPs, pedophiles, and AAMs.

I'm bringing attention to this because, obviously, it's disgusting and harmful. Under these tags, there is child pornography, young of age girls playing into the 'jailbait' stereotype (young, stupid, and impressionable), and nasty old men AND women preying on young girls and boys.

Tumblr has a general issue when it comes to NSFW content. Their guidelines (last updated Feb 1, 2024) state as follows:

"Harm to Minors. Don't post or solicit content that features the abuse of a minor, that includes suggestive or sexual content involving a minor or anyone that appears to be a minor, or that facilitates or promotes child sexual abuse. "Content" may include photos of real individuals, illustrations, animation, or text. Posting or reblogging child sexual abuse material is a serious crime for which we have no tolerance. We report all such instances to child protection organizations and law enforcement around the world, including the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children."

Despite this guideline, people get around this (and the ones regarding self-harm, gore, and mutilation, as well as promotion of eating disorders as EDs fall under self-harm) quite easily. Shift some numbers and letters around, and bam, you have an evasion.

I want Tumblr to hold these accounts responsible for the horrible shit they encourage, promote, and glorify.

59 notes · View notes

lemon-natalia · 2 months ago

Text

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Review

firstly, i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in and encouraged me in doing these liveblogs! this has been such a fun project to work on, and reading these books for the past nine months or so has been a bright spot in what has otherwise been a relatively tough period of my life. i’ve really enjoyed getting to theorise about all of the lore of these books and make horribly ill-advised emotional attachments to inevitably doomed characters

more fun statistics that no one asked for: this liveblog was the longest, at about 20,000 (!!) words. my GtN liveblog was 12000 words for comparison. i have no excuse other than i like to talk

NtN definitely was an interesting diversion from the other two books so far. it wasn’t exactly a breather, since it was still incredibly heartbreaking and horrifying, but it was fun to see a part of the worldbuilding very different from what we’ve seen before. as much as I missed both Harrow and Gideon, i liked that it gave other characters time to shine outside of interacting with them. it was fun to see more of Palamedes, Camilla, and Pyrrha, and how those characters act in a vastly different environment to the Nine Houses

although NtN was essentially telling two different narratives, John chapters vs Nona’s, it still didn’t feel particularly disjointed - i think it was thematically held together by being a bit more grounded than the other books so far, sci-fi and fantasy elements notwithstanding (contemporary issues like climate change and nuclear war, & John’s world being a setting far closer to our own vs Nona’s domestic life & very real problems of living in a warzone)

i also loved getting John’s perspective in the chapters narrated by Harrow, his point of view and recollections were equal parts funny, terrifying, and fascinating. he’s certainly got a … unique perspective on the world. it was just a slow horrifying journey trying to figure out how the world ended, knowing that it was doomed but not exactly how it happened

Muir really has a talent for endearing you to a protagonist, and Nona was no exception, I absolutely loved her, and just, her whole story and how tragic it was physically hurt me. i also wasn’t expecting to get as attached as i was to Hot Sauce and the school gang - i hope we get just even just a mention of what happens to them in AtN

tldr: 11/10. reading this series is like the emotional equivalent of voluntarily getting stabbed in the heart repeatedly. i have absolutely no clue what I’m going to do with my life now that this is over for the meantime, other than go crazy in a locked room with a red string conspiracy board trying to figure out whats going to happen in Alecto the Ninth

speaking of, obviously its not a pressing issue since to my knowledge there isn’t even a release date yet, but i’m not sure if i’ll do a liveblog for Alecto when it comes out? on one hand the most fun bit about liveblogging has been the reaction from everyone who’s already read the books and we’ll all be in the same boat of not knowing what’s going on when Alecto comes out, so i don’t know how much of a point there is? on the other i would very much enjoy doing it anyway, and i’m a perfectionist so it would be nice to have completed all of the books like that. so i guess it depends on how impatient i am to read the whole book when it comes out lol

#i know i said the unwanted guest liveblog would be the next post #but i unintentionally lied sorry #it will most definitely be the next post 100%#the locked tomb liveblog #tlt #the locked tomb #lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #nona the ninth

42 notes · View notes

petalruesimblr · 9 months ago

Text

Hey everyone!

This is part two of my small gift to my followers and to all the support I have received since I started this simblr blog. In case anyone missed it, here's the link to the first part of my gift: click here. It features a small set of starter homes for your Sims all priced below §16,500.

For the second gift, I'm excited to introduce the Sim Service Specialist Career! This is my first time creating a career for The Sims 3 and I owe special thanks to MissyHissy's for the step-by-step tutorial (here), as well as to Emma and Pat222 at Job Centre Discord for their help and encouragement when I felt like giving up.

Additional credits go to the creators of S3pe and Twallan for the Career Mod.

To new visitors, welcome and feel free to browse my Tumblr by checking out the pinned post for easier navigation. To everyone, your continued support through likes, reblogs, downloads and follows is always appreciated and welcomed!

Click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Sim Service Specialist Career.

XOXO, petalrue 🌺

Sim Service Specialist (Call Center)

Download Link: Sim File Share | MTS (for approval)

Career Details:

Available for: Young Adults, Adults and Elders Available Languages: English Levels: 10 Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes Metrics: Charisma, Logic (only at higher career levels), Relationships, Mood, Meetings (for high level) Performance Tones: Business as Usual, Peak Performance, Coffee Break, Team Huddle, Desk Detour, Hold Meetings, Practice Call Scripts, Suck up to Boss, Strategy Review and Conduct Evaluation

For my first career for TS3, I decided to go with the Call Center path which I was already familiar with due to my previous job working at one. This is a vanilla career; meaning no opportunities, events, books nor custom uniforms because those are a lot harder to deal with for a first timer.

This career was made with patch 1.42 and it should work for higher patches as long as you have the latest version of NRAAS Careers Mod. Please be advised that you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for this career to show up in the game, click here.

The career is based at the Business and Journalism rabbit hole with the same uniforms used for the Business career, for female Sims refer to the picture above and male Sims click here for reference. This career focuses mostly on the Charisma skill at the start, which then adds the Logic skill as the career advances to leadership roles.

I have renamed all typical tones such as Power Work and Take It Easy, etc. and have added three custom tones called: Practice Call Scripts, Conduct Evaluation and Strategy Review that will increase charisma and logic respectively.

I'm not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don't hesitate to send me a message here or comment on this post and will let you know the details.

I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. As this is my first career, all feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

#petalruesimblr #the sims 3 #ts3 #followers gift #custom career #ts3 simblr #sims 3 download #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 screenshots #ts3 simmer #sims 3 #ts3 community

105 notes · View notes

jenchan-writingmultis · 5 months ago

Text

Malleus X Reader Anonnie Review

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Anon's ask: I'm so mad I'm gonna eat the damn fae. My real TSUNOTARO is waiting, ain't time to love a cheap copy of him, soulmates be damned. That being said— I couldn’t hate Silver no matter the reality, he is my pookie. A sweetheart at heart, I mean, who could hate him? A professional hater, only.

I'M GLAD YOU LIKED ITT I love your reaction cause honestly same (╥﹏╥) also please don't eat fae you'll get a stomach ache anonnie. Masterlist Anonnie is talking about the Malleus x Reader which can be read here Please read it before going back here! Anon's Ask (I'm sorry i separated it, tumblr was going WACK on my poor ass. ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ If I were to dive deeper into this I would! (Once I finish requests, I'm a turtle writing) Maleficent Malleus wouldn't appreciate it if you call him a cheap copy of the original Malleus though (๑>؂•̀๑) He'd have you know that he's so MUCH better than your Malleus! He's already a king, that man's just an heir in the making, a child in his eyes! What do you even see in him? he knows how humans court, he knows how to make you happy, that Malleus of yours can't even understand you properly, what you need what you desire. he could give you EVERYTHING, so why even fight him for taking you? don't you see his vision? his dedication to wanting you to be his? Soulmates are super important for Maleficent Malleus! He'd probably apprehend you for such vulgarities coming out of your mouth! That is not befitting of a future royalty, sweetheart. He's sad that you're not making a lot of effort trying to become a befitting spouse for a king.

ACK SILVER! Yes, at first I was going to make him a bit cruel to you, the reader, but I just don't see him wanting any prisoners to be harmed, especially when he's such a sweetheart with a big heart. AND DID I MENTION THAT while I was freestyling the story, it almost came to the point that it felt like Silver x Reader, cause the guy was being soft and comforting to you, AND I WAS JUST LIKE NONONONO THIS IS MALLEUS X READER NOT SILVER, so I tried my best to not have him around that much especially around Reader CAUSE I JUST FEEL IT, THAT CONNECTION! (it could be seen as platonic too!) Also Silver along with Baur and Lilia would be the ones who would take care of you mentally, cause Maleficent Malleus is kind of a perfectionist, you won't really have a good relationship with him, he's toxic (obviously). So you seek solace from your retainers. Silver would be your comfort, the type that would be your pillow, if Malleus is not around, you could ask him to hug you, comfort you and he would! he doesn't like seeing you crying. He's upset at the poor treatment you're getting, while Malleus does provide everything you need, food, shelter, and his whole self. He seems what he's lacking and that's love. Lilia would be the rock in your life, he encourages you, and he even teaches you to fight back sometimes, but only fight back at Maleficent Malleus' toxicity with passive aggressiveness. He does try to talk some sense to his son. But there's only a few he could do. He does however successfully have a heart-to-heart talk with Malleus about your condition, that a "queen should feel comfort in their own home"

Baur, this grandpa, he's the one who would ask you if you want to go out, outside of Briar Valley, just to get a breather away from the darkness of the region, he would ask Malleus for permission to go out, his reasoning would be that weak humans like you do need sunlight and Briar Valley doesn't really give that much sunlight that a typical human needs. So with that, Malleus would agree, wanting to go with you but duty calls, so he decides to have Silver and Sebek come along with you. He trusts Baur but he knows that sometimes the grandfather gets reckless and stupid. He would use some type of magic to keep your face unrecognizable to locals since you're stuck in the body of a princess who went "missing". He doesn't want anyone to recognize you and report you to the royal family. Sebek lastly, at first he didn't like you, a weak human that caught the attention of not one Young master, BUT TWO?! what is so special about you? but he digress, if you truly are the soulmate and love of his Young Master, he will start treating you with respect. He's your bodyguard. He makes sure that you've been fed, clothed, and sleeping well. You are the spouse of THE young master, expect to be treated as such.

This ask helped me a lot with portraying my thoughts, thank you! I'll start by explaining a bit about Maleficent Malleus cause I love this unhinged man.

Warning: Possessiveness Maleficent Malleus does love you, it's just you see his love differently. He thinks possessing you as his lover would be considered as loving. You're his. He risked so much just for you to be his, so technically you don't have a choice but to love him. If he sees you talking with anyone other than his trusted allies. He'll use his magic to have you back into his lap, his blackened arms and tendrils wrapped around you. "Why even bother talking to another human when you have me?" He's the type to understand your rejection... if it was reasonable. For example, if you reject wanting to kiss him, that's fine by him, but rejecting his cuddling? nope, there's no reason for you to feel that uncomfortable around him to stop cuddling.

Whenever you talk about the other Malleus, he cuts you off by telling you that he is not around anymore, you have him, you talk about him, that Malleus cannot come back into your life, but you can have him. Unfortunately, if it starts affecting your health, feeling homesick, or missing your original lover, he will use his magic to erase those memories of yours of your former lover. While it might have side effects, he can deal with it. Anything to make you happy and his. Sometimes though, you frustrate him, he doesn't understand what's so appealing to desperately wanting to be with your Malleus, he's still Malleus! He doesn't see any differences, and his heart aches for that. Is he not enough? You weren't part of his life, you aren't supposed to be either, so you want him to watch as his other self is happier than him while he's there with an empty heart? an empty feeling of missing something that he wasn't supposed to be having? For Original Malleus, honestly, he's devastated, you died in front of him and he was too late to react to that kind of fluctuating magic, it even felt familiar, the way a black portal opened up beneath you, taking your body. :(( He's not feeling well, he's blaming himself, missing you. It all happened when one day, during your daily cuddles, he went to meet you, he oddly had a feeling that he was supposed to be around you today, so despite the initial exhaustion of his duties, he went to his usual spot, the outside of Ramshackle, and when he saw your bedroom light up, he looked up waving at you with a smile. You immediately went down, opening the door for him with that bright smile he loves. "Can't sleep? Child of Man?" he says, despite your peculiar relationship, he still calls you by nickname, he supposes he should go for a more… affectionate nickname. "Yeah, can we?" you gesture with open arms. He chuckles, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet. "Of course, how could I refuse?" he quips, planting a tender kiss on your forehead, eliciting a giggle from you.

Your soft voice fills his quiet night, he always loves listening to you describe your day, his hand brushing the hair falling on your face as you were on his side, head placed on his shoulder, while your hand is on his, your warmth serving as a comforter. Even if he was the type of Fae that doesn't need rest, he feels himself drifting to sleep cause of you.

However, as you two were starting to fall into the realm of unconsciousness, he suddenly felt a sudden surge of magic, scarily near you, eyes snapping open as he saw a green glint, pairs of hands grabbing you immediately, however, he gripped on your wrist, pulling you towards him, he tried to wake you up but you were too deep in sleep, making him realize that you have been doused by a type of sleep manipulation enchantment.

The dark entity being much stronger than him took you swiftly, the portal closing swiftly as his eyes widened.

During the time of your disappearance, he immediately informed Lilia, Sebek, and Silver, who were alarmed by what transpired. They already noticed that Malleus was restless when he came back, expression dim. The whole Night Raven College would be surrounded by deadly lightning, causing the students to stay indoors, and all outside activities would be stopped. Lilia had to inform Crowley of what happened, Grim, who didn't realize what happened blamed Malleus for it, however, it was only due to his shock and pain of losing you.

Ramshackle became inhabited, Lilia asking Crowley to have Grim be transported to a different location due to the dormitory being a scene of a crime. What's worst is that after a month of trying to find any type of connection to your kidnapper, he found your corpse, drained of life, just sitting on the couch where you two would cuddle. That cruel bastard, he didn't understand the purpose of shoving your dead body into a sentimental object that you two enjoyed using. He's still hopeful though surprisingly, he was furious yes, but he kept himself grounded, if it meant finding a way to save you, he'll do it, keeping your body frozen, he didn't see your soul die, and turn into a ghost, or ascend to heaven, he didn't. While his rational side thinks that it's time to move on, he doesn't he will never let you go. He will find a way to bring you back, even if it costs him his life. I had fun writing this. (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twst #jen-chan blurbs #Anonnie Ask!#twisted wonderland malleus #angst #malleus x yuu #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #lilia #sebek zigvolt #silver twst #baur zigvolt #twst baur

55 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 21 days ago

Text

Reprise

Aaron gets a call, and it feels like nothing short of history repeating itself.

-x-

Hi besties,

So, I recently realised all of my hurt comfort lately has been Aaron comforting Emily...so then I wrote this.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Minor Emily Prentiss whump, pregnancy, minor injuries

Words: 3.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He keeps getting interrupted.

Paperwork was the most boring part of his job, but one of the most important. If they got it wrong, if even the tiniest detail was missed, then it could be used as a technicality by a defence lawyer. An error that could lead to a dangerous individual being back on the streets, which was something Aaron didn’t want to weigh on his or anyone on his team's shoulders. He’d been there. Had felt guilty over mistakes he’d made before, and any assurances that he’s human, that he’s bound to make mistakes occasionally, would always fall flat.

He was reviewing casework, desperate to get the pile of files in front of him finished so he could go home and spend the evening with his wife and kids, but every time he was getting somewhere someone would knock on his door to ask a question. A distraction that could lead to a mistake that meant he found himself reading the same pages again and again, not making any progress as the clock ticked closer and closer towards his little girl’s bedtime.

He’d already sent Emily a text. Had let her know he was running late and to have dinner without him but that he’d be home before the kids went to bed. If he wasn’t away on a case, bath and bedtime were his jobs, now more than ever because of Emily’s pregnancy. Not only was she struggling to kneel on the floor next to the bath these days, but she was exhausted all the time. The four years that had passed since she’d had Mae were enough for her to have forgotten how rough pregnancy was, especially now she’d just tipped over into her third trimester.

He knew if he called her, if he told her he’d be even later than he thought, that she wouldn’t be mad at him. She’d say that she understood and she’d hand the phone over to Mae, would encourage the four-year-old to speak to him over the phone so he could at least say goodnight to her. Then, when he did get home, she’d kiss him hello and offer to make him a drink whilst he went to Mae’s bedroom to kiss her forehead and just watch her for a minute or two. Her face relaxed and her cheek pressed into the pillow as she hugged her favourite toy to her chest. Both she and Jack, and the little boy Emily was currently pregnant with, were a reminder that good things existed. That he had the life he once thought he’d never get a chance at again.

There’s a knock on his office door and he sighs, shaking his head as he calls out for the person to come in, his pen already placed down on his desk.

At this rate, he’d get home to everyone already in bed.

“You could look happier to see me,” Dave says, smirking at him as he leans against the doorframe, “I am your best friend after all.”

“Emily is my best friend,” he corrects, leaning back in his chair.

“She’s your wife.”

Aaron smiles despite his irritation at being interrupted, “She’s my best friend too,” he says, his smile getting wider when Dave furrows his brow, “Have you ever thought this might be why none of your marriages worked out?”

He places his hand on his chest in mock hurt, “You know, you used to be a lot nicer before you married Emily,” he jokes, and they both laugh.

“Is there a reason you’ve interrupted me?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at him, “Or did you just come in to ruin my flow again?”

“I’ve finished last month's budget reports for you,” he says, pulling them from behind his back and placing them on his desk, “All you need to do is sign them.”

Aaron looks up at him, “I’m not going to unknowingly sign off on the department paying for your next book tour am I?”

Dave chuckles and shrugs, “Guess you’re going to have to see how much you trust me,” he jokes, “You should just go home, Aaron. The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.”

He sighs and nods, “I know. I wanted to make more progress than I have. Cruz has been breathing down my neck.”

“You’ve got two kids and a pregnant wife, who happens to head up his Counterterrorism unit, at home. He’s not going to begrudge you going home,” he looks at his watch, “Especially when it’s already an hour past the end of your day.”

Aaron knows he’s right, but old habits died hard. Even now he found himself getting sucked into work, although never as badly as he had when he was married to Haley. In some ways, he found that Emily's understanding of his job in the way she did helped, because if she ever asked him to take a step back it made him question himself, made him do as she asked of him. He wasn’t proud of it, wasn’t proud that Haley asking him had never been enough, but he knew it meant that he’d learnt from his past. That he hadn’t brought the mistakes from his first marriage into his second one.

“You’re right, I’ll-” he’s cut off when he hears his phone ring, the vibration of it against the desk loud in the otherwise quiet office. He frowns at the withheld number and picks it up, sending Dave an apologetic smile as he answers, “Aaron Hotchner.”

“Hi, Mr Hotchner, I’m Lisa, I’m an ER nurse at Stafford Hospital…”

Everything slows down around him, his chest stuttering as time moves like syrup, every second sticking in the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe as he tightens his grip on his phone, surprised he doesn’t crush it as the nurse confirms what he already knows she’s going to say.

“Your wife and children were brought in this evening after being involved in a car accident.”

___

Emily wasn’t answering her phone. It doesn’t even ring.

He calls her. Again and again and again and she doesn’t answer. Each time it goes straight to voicemail the sound of her voice on her personalised message makes him ache, his shoulders so tight as he drives he worries they may pop out of the joints.

He tries again, presses the speed dial in his car but it goes to voicemail again. Her voice ringing out through the speakers around him.

“Hi, you’ve reached Emily Prentiss, please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you.”

“Em, call me back, please,” he begs, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him this might be the last time he hears her voice, that this will replace whatever she’d said to him when they left for work that morning in their separate cars, “I’m…please answer the phone. I love you.”

It’s familiar. Too familiar. His hands tight on the steering wheel as he’s desperately trying to get to the woman he loves. Fear greeting him like an old friend as it breathes down his neck, its hand about to reach out for him and grab him by the shoulder. He tries to tell himself that it’s okay, that she and the kids are fine, but he can’t stop thinking that she hasn’t answered her phone.

She would answer if everything was okay. She’d call him if everything was okay.

He doesn’t remember a second of the journey by the time he makes it to the hospital. He flashes his badge at a security guard who tells him he can’t park where he’s pulled up, not caring if it’s an abuse of power. Every single cell in his body vibrating with fear and pre-emptive grief and guilt. He should have been with them. If he’d just gone home when he should have he would have been with them.

He walks up to the desk in the ER, grateful there isn’t a line of people. He’s already speaking to the nurse before she looks up at him, all of the details he had spilling out of him in a second, words tripping themselves as he desperately gets them out.

“I got a call about my wife - Emily Prentiss, she’s pregnant. And my children Jack and Mae Hotchner. I was told they were in a car accident.”

“Okay,” she says, looking at the computer, “Let me just check my system for them…” She drifts off as she types, and he hates how good he is at his job. Hates that he sees the very brief furrowing of her brows before she smiles up at him, “Did you say Prentiss?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice barely recognisable even to himself.

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t see that we have any patients in the ER with that name, and I can’t see your children’s names either.”

He grips the counter, his fingers pressed against cheap wood as he holds himself up, “What do you mean they aren’t on the system?” He demands, shouting at the young woman in front of him even if he doesn’t mean to, his desperation reaching an all time high. He finds himself wishing he’d taken up Dave’s offer of driving him here so that he wouldn’t be alone for this.

“It could mean a couple of things, it could mean they’ve already been discharged,” she swallows thickly, “Or, I’m so sorry but it could mean-”

“Dad?”

He turns around so fast at the sound of his son’s voice that he pulls his neck, but the pain that flares in it barely registers. All the anger and grief floods out of him in an instant the moment he sets eyes on him, on them, standing just a few feet away. Emily is standing next to Jack, her arm around his shoulders and the other arm securing Mae to her hip, the little girl’s face pressed against her neck. The only visible sign of injury is a bandage on Emily’s forehead, the stark white of the material a sight that is a little too familiar for his liking.

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, making it to their sides in a few seconds, pulling them into his arms. His whole world in his embrace before he pulls back, dropping a kiss to Jack’s forehead and then turning to kiss his little girl’s and then finally his wife, “I thought…you didn’t answer your phone.”

“I know,” she says, unwrapping her arm from around Jack’s shoulder to cup Aaron’s cheek, her skin warm against his, “I’m so sorry baby. It was broken in the crash. Couldn’t even get it to turn on,” she looks over at the desk, a flash of irritation in her eyes, “And they wouldn’t let me call you myself.”

“And you’re…” he looks her up and down now he’s closer and then at the kids, looking for cuts and injuries that weren’t there.

“We’re okay. If I’d been in the car alone, if I wasn’t pregnant, I probably wouldn’t have come to the hospital,” she assures him, her hand slipping down to his neck, her thumb tracing back and forth over his jaw, “We all got looked at. We have some bruises from the seatbelts, and I hit my head on the steering wheel. But the doctors were happy to discharge us.”

“You’re okay?” He asks, breathless, as if he’d run all the way here. He places his hand on her bump and the baby moves, the breath Aaron sucks in rattling back and forth between his ribs, “And the baby?”

“He’s okay too,” Emily assures him, adjusting her hold on Mae. She turns to look at her, obvious fear shining in their daughter’s eyes and she tickles her to draw out a laugh, “We saw baby brother on the screen, huh?”

Mae nods, her excitement at being a big sister overtaking everything else, “We saw his peni-”

“They said everything looks good. Told me what to look out for that would mean I had to come back in, and I have to arrange a check up with my OBGYN in a couple of days. We got new pictures,” Emily says, cutting over her toddler, not missing the poorly hidden smiles of amusement from some of the people sitting in the waiting room, and the horror on some of the other faces at a four-year-old knowing the anatomical terms for intimate body parts. She presses her lips together and looks at her husband, “I can show you when we get home?”

“As long as the doctors are sure everyone is okay,” he says, “Maybe I should talk to someone, ask them to look at you all again.”

She smiles, passing over Mae so he has the comfort of their little girl in his arms, and he takes her willingly, stamping his lips against her forehead as he holds her close. She melts into his embrace, exhausted by the stress of what had happened, and he runs his hand soothingly up and down her back.

“Honey,” Emily says, reaching for his hand, linking their fingers together so she can squeeze his palm against hers. “We’ve all been cleared. We’re okay. I promise. Right, kiddo?”

Jack nods, “Right,” he smiles at his Dad, “Can we get pizza?”

Aaron chuckles, the residual panic still simmering in his gut, but he clears his throat and nods, wanting more than anything to just get his family home where he could keep them safe, “Yeah buddy,” he says, ruffling his hair, “We can get pizza.”

___

“I have a feeling we’ll wake up with both of them in our bed,” Emily says as she walks into their bedroom, groaning as she sits down, her body aching in more ways than it usually did these days, “But they are both asleep.” She turns to look at Aaron. He’s sitting on the bed too, an arm's length away, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, “Honey-”

“What happened?”

She sighs and swallows thickly. They hadn’t spoken about it, not whilst the kids were with them. An unspoken agreement that they’d leave it until they went to bed. Neither one of them wanting Jack and Mae to relieve it when they were awake, when it was likely they would in their dreams.

“It was low impact,” she says, shifting towards him until their thighs touch. The guy behind us wasn’t paying attention, he was on his phone,” she reaches for his hand when he tenses and links their fingers together, “He went into the back of us at a red light. He’d already been slowing down because he saw it go yellow, he just missed it going red.”

“He could have killed you.”

“He rear-ended us.”

He all but growls, “He was being careless.”

She makes him look at her, her hand cupping his chin as she forces him to turn his head, “Something that I made very clear with a lot of colourful language Mae might start repeating during breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Aaron sighs and kisses her knuckles, “What were you doing in the car anyway? I didn’t know you were going anywhere.”

She presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she answers the question she’d been dreading all night, well aware of what his reaction would be, “We were bringing you dinner.”

His eyes go wide, the internalised anger she expected flashing in his eyes, frustration she knows he’s sending inwards for not being home on time written in the tension in his jaw. What she doesn’t expect, what she doesn’t see coming despite knowing him better than she knows herself, is the way he bursts into tears. A sob caught in his chest that sounds like it hurts, cracking his ribs from the inside out, the sharp edges of them catching on scars that were already scattered across his skin. Like he’s tearing himself apart from the inside out in the same places another man once tore him apart from the outside in.

“Aaron,” she breathes out, barely getting a second before he leans forward and presses his face against her neck, his tears burning her skin. She holds him close and turns her head to kiss his forehead. She blows out a shaky breath, seeing him this upset enough to tip her over the edge herself, “We’re okay-”

“I know you’re okay, Em,” he chokes out, tears leaving tracks on her neck, his words muffled against her collarbone as his misplaced anger turns into the grief he couldn’t shake off, “But I keep going back to that moment when I didn’t know that you were. It felt like…” he drifts off and chokes on the rest of his sentence, “It felt like my world was ending. If I lost you…”

She pulls back so she can look at him, and she presses her forehead against his, her hand curled around the back of his head as she holds him in place, “Sweetheart,” she says, the nickname he usually used for her slipping free, “I’m right here,” she says, reaching for his hand to place it on her chest, making a point of breathing in and out deeply so he can feel the rise and fall of it, “I’m okay. The kids are safe and asleep in their beds,” she shifts their joint hands to her bump and she smiles when the baby kicks, “Baby boy is kicking up a storm as always. We’re right here. You didn’t lose any of us. This isn’t like what happened with Haley,” she reaches up and wipes a tear from his cheek, “We’re all right here.”

He chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He shakes his head, making it knock gently against hers before he pulls back to look at her, “Sometimes I think you know me a little too well.”

She shakes her head and squeezes the hand still pressed against her bump, “I’m your wife. I don’t think it’s possible for me to know you too well.”

“I’m so-”

“I don’t want to hear any apologies,” she says, wiping his cheeks again, “Not for staying at the office late. Or for crying. You have nothing to apologise for, okay?”

He nods, resting his forehead against hers, “Okay.”

They wear a door open just down the hall, and then the thundering of Mae’s tiny feet against the hardwood floor. When she opens their door and pokes her head around it she has tears shining on her cheeks, her lips trembling as she steps into the room.

“Mommy, Daddy, I had a bad dream.”

Emily shifts back from Aaron just enough to make room for the little girl, “Come here, baby. Do you want to sleep in our bed tonight?”

She nods as she climbs onto the bed, settling herself onto Aaron’s lap, “Yes please.”

Aaron smiles and kisses the top of her head, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Mae looks up at him and frowns when she spots his damn cheeks, “Are you sad Daddy?”

“I’m okay, baby,” He sighs and runs his fingers through her hair, exchanging a quick look with Emily before he returns his attention to his little girl, “I was just scared because you, Jack, Mommy and baby brother could have been hurt.”

She moves so she’s level with his face, all but standing in his lap now, his hands on her waist as he secures her in place. She kisses his forehead, making both him and Emily smile, and then she pulls back, “We’re okay.”

“I know, princess,” he kisses her forehead in return and encourages her to sit back down, “Are you okay to get comfortable in bed whilst Mommy and I get ready?”

She nods and then tilts her head curiously, waiting until both her parents are standing up before she speaks, “Daddy?”

“Yes, Mae?”

“What’s a douche canoe?”

#aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss

32 notes · View notes