#no yeah i’m being for real. go buy the books and read them. if you don’t read percy jackson what will there be to talk about

[anna-scribbles]

(12 year old me voice) hey does anybody wanna talk about percy jackson

[lizdive]

hi there! platonic aventurine, jing yuan, sunday, blade, welt, dan heng, boothill, argenti and dr ratio with a teen reader who is like fischl?

Hi anon <33 I really wanted to finish this in one part because i loved this req in specific (i love fischl) but idk why I’m lacking sm motivation,,, so I decided to split this into 2 parts (hopefully) i hope you don’t mind,,, thank you so much for requesting <33 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it !! <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "royal" + "they/them" used to refer to user ,, reader is a teenager ,, user is based off of "fischl" from the game genshin impact ,, platonic relationships ,, mention of fu xuan in jing yuan’s part ,, not my best work i’m sorry ,, mention of robin in sunday’s part ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ When he first met you, AVENTURINE was a bit taken aback with your speech and eccentric character in general. You claim to be royalty from a far away world, and while Aventurine didn’t quite believe it at first there was a small part of him that was lowkey kind of convinced.

⭑ He was a bit concerned that someone like you was so high ranking in the IPC because he knows the IPC is probably exploiting you especially because you seem to be a bit naive, so he’ll start watching over you.

⭑ He’ll gradually get used to your persona and understand what you say. He might need a second to process if you drop a huge paragraph of dialogue on him, but with every conversation and interaction he gets faster.

⭑ Takes one to know one — AVENTURINE can tell you’re trying to cope with something that’s happened in the past via roleplaying this character you put on, and he won’t be the one to burst your bubble. In fact, he’ll try to protect it for as long as possible.

⭑ Nobody’s going to make fun of you while he’s around. If anyone tries to reality check you, he’ll lowkey gaslight them into thinking that everything you say is real. Yeah, you’re a royal. He’s also actually seen this far away land you speak of, so that person is just being an ignorant hater !!

⭑ If your character is based off of someone from a book like Fischl, AVENTURINE will find that book and read it to better understand your references and persona as a whole. Likes seeing how you get happy when he references something.

⭑ If you ever feel insecure because of your past, AVENTURINE will be there to comfort you. He’s good at picking up signs when it comes to you because he practically had your character memorized. He’ll try to distract you from your past but if you do want to open up and vent he’ll be there to listen.

⭑ Give him a role in your little world and he’ll play it scarily well. Would probably do best as a royal advisor or assistant.

⭑ Buys you literally anything and everything that could fit your aesthetic and world. Fancy gems to add to your riches because every royal needs to have riches!! Buys you clothes too that you think is fit for royalty of your world.

⭑ You practice archery next to him while he practices gun shooting and it’s nice bonding time,,

"I, [Name], [Insert desired title here], descend upon this land by the call of fate an— Oh, you are also a traveler from another world? Very well, I grant you permission to travel with me."

"They’re saying that it’s nice to meet you."

⭑ Was not in any way bothered or confused by your eccentric mannerisms. JING YUAN’s pretty used to the unique speech style due to Fu Xuan, so he understands what you’re saying or at least gets the basic idea.

⭑ Oh? You’re a royal from a far away distant land? Yes yes, how nice. But royals do need to complete their training as well, no? As a cloud knight, he’s impressed with how you easily climbed up those ranks. Praises you whenever you somehow jump up a rank quicker than the last.

⭑ He doesn’t really suspect too much of your personality and that you’re putting up a front until you slip out and go ooc which makes him do a double take mentally. When you get all flustered and a bit distressed, he’ll reassure you by acting like nothing happened.

⭑ It’s then that he really pays attention to the little story you have going on with the world you live in. If he ever forgets something important, he’ll apologize and tell you that he never meant to insult your highness.

⭑ Another one that would protect your little bubble. I don’t think anyone would really want to say something bad about a high ranking cloud knight but even if they wanted to if JING YUAN or Yanqing were to hear they wouldn’t know peace,,

⭑ He can play the role you give him should you give him, especially as a general. You tell him about someone trying to attack your kingdom and he’ll reassure you he’s got this !!

⭑ Keeps a piece of paper in his pocket that has details about your persona if it’s based off of a character from a book. Also probably has a timeline on all your 'historical' events — sometimes he scares you because it feels like he knows more about your world than you do,,

⭑ He finds your keen instincts and intuition a bit intimidating. Have you ever thought of learning a thing or two from Fu Xuan? He always trusts you whenever you feel uncertain about a plan or idea because somehow you’re almost always right in the end.

⭑ Becomes your archery mentor and will watch over you as you train. Your skills are impressive and he finds amusement in the way you pose after a full combo.

⭑ If you feel upset because of your past, JING YUAN will comfort you and tell you that you don’t have to grow up — you’re still young and deserve to enjoy what remains before you become an adult and have to face the world. He’ll always be proud and support you no matter what.

"I hear the voice of fate, speaking my name in humble supplication..."

"Hm? Care to share what fate whispers?"

⭑ The talk of an eccentric worker in the reverie hotel had easily reached SUNDAY’s ears, and wanting to see who this eccentric worker was, he decided to wander around during his free time to catch them in action.

⭑ It wasn’t hard to find you as you were a bit loud. Pushing the cart of luggage while speaking of your magical kingdom to the guests as they nod along, clearly invested and assuming you were a storyteller. Once you had brought the guests’ luggage to their room and left, SUNDAY made his way to you to talk with you in interest. You had quite the imagination and spoke in a very sophisticated manner for your age.

⭑ Wasn’t at all phased by the paragraphs upon paragraphs of dialogue you would drop on him, replying easily and holding the conversation well. He noticed you seemed happier the longer he spoke to you.

⭑ While some guests may be annoyed by your behavior, he’ll remind them — if he’s present — that penacony is the land of festivities and many different people visit. Plus, you’re young and free to be who you want to be. If you’re really get picked on though he’ll deal with them personally.

⭑ SUNDAY is scarily observant so he knows you’re playing a character. He doesn’t really acknowledge it too much or confronts you, though, since everyone in penacony is also technically playing the character they wish they were.

⭑ Because of that, SUNDAY will let you do as you please. He’ll indulge you and will play the role you wish for him to play. He’s good at acting, so he can play whatever you wish. It reminds him of when he’d play pretend when Robin when he was younger.

⭑ Has everything about your character memorized. However he knows what to say and what not to say so he doesn’t fluster you by knowing more than you. Will also cover for you if you accidentally go ooc.

⭑ Your ability to rise up in the ranks so quickly will eventually make you work directly under him at some point and when that happens trust that people will refer to you with a royal title. He may indulge you a bit too much,,,

⭑ When you open to SUNDAY about your past, he kind of just. . . Dodges the subject after that. Doesn’t mention it at all. May act like your father a bit and call you his [insert royal title here] — you never realize it’s him trying to reassure you that you needn’t worry about growing up and being mature because of the role you’ve given him.

⭑ Gets a bit worried for your safety when you practice archery, but he also appreciates the fact you can take care of yourself should you face any dangers (especially in the dreamscape.)

⭑ Takes your advice and warnings a bit seriously because of how good your intuition and keen instincts were. (He didn’t listen ONCE and he paid the price.)

"What does it take to rile a royal? ...If you must know, it is those who cannot recognize my true identity. But it is no great loss, for solitude is the noble's lot, so long as I do not lose the nobility of my soul..."

"How wise you are, your highness."

⭑ He has no idea when it happened, but one day BLADE became your 'knight' and he has yet to comment on it. Not really the best knight as he doesn’t really stay close to you on the daily however also a really good knight as he protects you during missions to the point where you don’t use a single arrow.

⭑ Can understand what you day, does not translate for other people. You’re the yapper and he’s the listener. Doesn’t reply like 95% of the time but when he does it’s really flat and monotone which you don’t mind because he’s the big scary knight !!

⭑ Gets teased by the other stellaron hunters for indulging you, but he doesn’t really care too much. He can’t leave you to die during missions, can he? You’re way too young to hold your own properly so he’s there to make sure the number of stellaron hunters doesn’t decrease (that’s his reasoning don’t ruin it pls.)

⭑ Said this in other posts: not the best at comforting so when you open up, he’s kind of just,,, there. He’s also a bit distant sometimes but after that he’ll try to put an effort into playing his role so you don’t get upset or feel like he’s ignoring you.

⭑ Nobody thinks of making fun of you or your interests because BLADE’s always standing behind you — even if you’re tall for your age it’s still very scary to have him just staring at the person with a dead look.

⭑ Doesn’t research your character like the others — he learns as he goes. He doesn’t even have the chance to mess up because he just doesn’t talk much so he can’t mess up.

⭑ Not much to say for Bladie he just goes with it,,

"Dusk and dawn but fleeting shadows are. Once more, the twists of fate have led you into my everlasting night."

"…Good morning."

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Hi, Jason (Part V)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: no proof reading, Jason's relationships with Bruce and Dick are discussed, mentions of Joker, violence, death

You met with Dick again in a bookstore. At first, you thought that it was quite a strange coincidence, until you saw him trying to talk with a very big boy who didn’t seem very interested in talking with him. Dick appeared upset ; the other boy was just shrugging and trying to focus on the books in front of him. 

You hesitated to go to them; you didn’t want to intrude. You weren’t too sure to recognise the other boy, but his face somehow seemed familiar. What decided you was where they were standing: the classic literature aisle of the store. Which was what you were looking for when you entered the shop.

You thought you could just say hi and then leave them alone if your presence was annoying them. You carefully walked to them.

“Hey Dick” you greeted the boy who turned around and instantly smiled at you. 

You weren’t too sure if it was a real smile yet, so you didn’t come closer to him, but his answer showed he was actually glad to see you.

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” he asked

“Buying books I guess.” you teased “I was looking for Mansfield Park or Emma, now I finished Pride and Prejudice” you said. 

The big boy to whom Dick was trying to talk to, quickly turned around and looked you up and down. He watched you with curiosity sparkling in his green eyes. Dick took his chance before his brother could go back to the cover of the book he was holding.

“Y/N, this is Jason, my little brother. You seem to share the same taste in books” Dick introduced the two of them

“Hi, Jason” you smiled as you cautiously observed him, remembering who he was now you knew his name.

You remembered what you read about Bruce and his son “who came back from the dead” and all the headlines about “Bruce arguing with his adoptive son”. It had quite broken your heart at the time.

“You’re Bruce’s new girlfriend?” he asked you quite bluntly

“I hate titles and I hate to feel like a possession. But yes, I'm currently seeing Bruce.” you replied and Jason nodded “I’m surprised you heard about me.” you added. 

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It's just that things are rocky with Bruce.” Jason said and you reassuringly smiled at him “And yeah, everyone is talking about you in the “family”. Dick and Tim said you were nice.” Jason explained his first coldness to you

“I understand; Bruce isn’t always easy and you don’t know me” you nodded

“Ah yeah?” Jason arched an eyebrow at you. 

He had expected you to take Bruce’s defence, like everyone else.

“Let’s say that I like challenges.” you smiled “And I’m not Bruce’s lawyer” you joked

“You should thank god for that, or you would have a lot of work” Jason grinned and you could tell Dick was quite happy about the current interaction.

“Can I buy the two of you a drink or something? Or a meal” you asked. “There is this sweet little café right outside the bookstore” you offered

You actually wanted to know more of them. Jason was curious about you so he agreed. Dick wanted to come as well, but he quickly received a call from Büdhaven. He reluctantly left the two of you together. Dick would have enjoyed some time with his brother too, but maybe you would help. If you helped with Bruce, he was certain you could do pretty much anything. At the same time, he really hoped Jason wasn’t going to scare you away from the family as a way to avenge himself.

But you knew better; you had met Red Hood before and you liked him.

You settled in the café. You started to talk about literature at first. You were both passionate so it was a good conversation starter. You gave each other some recommendations and debated on characters you liked or disliked. Your point of views on characters were often based on your experiences, so it naturally led to a conversion about each other’s lives. And of course, you arrived at the subject of Bruce Wayne.

“I’ll tell him to apologise to you. He shouldn’t have acted that way even if I do agree with the no killing rule” you said “You’re both right in a way, but… Bruce should have talked to you, he should have let you know what was going on with the Joker and why he couldn’t kill him. Why you couldn't kill him either. He should have been there to appease your anger, not the opposite” you said

“You’ll quickly learn that he doesn’t talk much. Especially not about his feelings. If it gets too personal, he’ll push the subject away. If it can hurt him, he’ll run away. He's a bad dad for that. And he might be a bad partner to you as well” Jason told you

“I’m sorry about what happened to you. It must have been so difficult to wake up without your family. And in a body you didn’t know. You did good, despite the murders and everything. Actually, Red Hood has always been my favourite vigilante” you admitted without commenting on the last part of Jason’s words. You wanted to believe that Bruce would make an effort for you.

Jason chuckled as you mentioned his vigilante persona.

“It’s true you never wrote anything bad about me. I thought you were scared of me… Until I realised we actually met” he teased, his eyes litting up

“Oh you remember? Yes I used to live in your territory, and now I’m nearby. I stand by what I said that night: I know what you did for people like us, that’s why I thanked you. Bruce can’t understand what it is to be poor and lost and to have to do bad things to survive. But I’ll make sure he does better with you.” you said “Just promise me to speak with Dick. Your brother looks like he is very eager to have you back in his life. He seemed very sorry you weren’t speaking with him earlier” you added

“I will try to talk with him again then. Thank you for… Thank you. I think I really needed to have this conversation with somebody but no one wanted to have it and I couldn’t really go to a therapist. You’re easy to talk with” he whispered, a little bit awkward

“I know” you smiled “I’m glad if I’ve been able to help”

“Is it your good action of the day to go to Heaven?” Jason joked 

“Absolutely” you giggled

A moment of comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. You both enjoyed your tea before you resumed talking:

“Hey you know what, this is my phone number. You can call or text me whenever you need it.” you offered

“Why?” Jason plunged his eyes onto yours. 

He was definitely not used of adults being there for him, especially without a catch

“Well I’m afraid I’m a family woman and my own family sucks very much. And since Bruce wants me around, I’d prefer it if I can get along with his people. I’d like to take care of you all.” you admitted, feeling a little shy to say all of this out loud.

Jason was also very easy to talk to.

“I don’t think I’m one of his people. Not anymore at least.” Jason sadly smiled at you

“You can be one of mine then. Take it as a repayment for allowing me to go back home every night without having to worry about anyone slicing my throat off” you insisted

“All the pleasure’s mine” he chuckled before saving your number onto his phone “You know, everyone says Bruce is nicer since you’re around. I have to admit this is true. Maybe happiness can truly change a man” 

“Even a bat?” you joked because Jason’s words were touching you a little more than you wanted to show it

“Even a bat” Jason nodded

A few days later, you received a message from Jason, clearly tasting the water with you.

J: Hey wanna go have some lunch together today or tomorrow?

You: Today sounds good :)

After this, you regularly had lunch together and Jason clearly started to see you as a motherly figure, and you saw him as a son. He crashed at your place more than once after patrol, so you could eat together. Bruce never commented on your relationship with Jason, but he heard you when you asked him to apologise.

Which he did.

Jason accepted it and tried his best with Dick and his other siblings. He was still feeling awkward around everyone, but he was slowly spending more time at the manor, even when Bruce was there. 

When Bruce asked if you wanted to meet all of his children anytime soon, you agreed but you instantly sent a message to Jason to make sure he would be there as well. He eagerly agreed because he couldn’t wait for you to be officially a member of the Batfamily.

--

PART 6

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

[zer0brainc3lls]

Newtmas headcanons pt2!

Newt and Thomas both read and they just sit in bed together reading all the time, ever so often gasping and going "you'll never guess what just happened-"

Newt is a chronic clothes THIEF. he doesn't buy baggy clothes because he will just go and steal Thomas's stuff 😭 "its not your shirt, its OUR shirt. big difference." "I BOUGHT IT?!" "AND I PICKED IT FOR YOU!" "YEAH I SEE WHY NOW"

Thomas would see little trinkets or flowers and just give it to Newt with little to no context except maybe "for you!" "i found this" Newt has kept every single one. he presses the flowers and keeps them in a book, the trinkets are in a box.

Newt got told by a doctor he should be using a cane, Newt refused but made the fatal mistake of complaining to Thomas about it.. Newt now has a cane decorated with stickers.

before Newt got the flare he had a weaker immune system then the other guys (aka they have really strong immune systems and his was just normal so everyone thought his was weak) but after he got the flare and got cured it ACTUALLY got weak, like a cold for someone else will have him in bed for days vomiting :( Thomas however almost never gets sick.. so he takes care of sick Newt OFTEN

Newt loves taking care of plants, Thomas cannot keep them alive.

Thomas is wearing shorts in the freezing cold, Newt is in multiple layers the moment the temperate gets even slightly cold

Newt is a flower crown/bracelet WARRIOR. Anytime Thomas comes home with flowers he found if he has enough Newt makes them into bracelets for Thomas to wear around (sometimes he makes crowns but he usually makes bracelets because it’s more practical for Thomas)

Thomas won’t take the bracelets off unless he’s showering/sleeping (so they don’t break) and will wear them till they have withered off

Thomas BEGGED Newt to teach him how to plait hair, once he got it down he plaits Newts hair for him

Thomas sometimes has a hard time focusing, and will sometimes not look at people while they are talking (not in a rude way!!) and Newt will just tap him on the shoulder if it’s someone else but if Thomas is “ignoring” HIM.. yk that move he did to frypan when he was looking at Teresa? Yeah. That gets Thomas’s attention alright 😭 example:

Newt: yeah so then-

Thomas: *staring off into the distance, fiddling with his hands deep in thought*

Newt: *rolls his eyes and grabs Thomas’s face and makes him look at him* y’know you’re s’pose to look at people when they talk to ya Tommy

Thomas: *red in the face* uhm- yeah you’re right- sorry what did you say hun?

(Newt knows this gets Thomas flustered btw. Uses it to his upmost advantage)

When Newt got the cure (I’m insane) he still suffered from the rare burst of anger/paranoia and on very very bad days hallucinations, since he was past the gone when he got the cure. No where near as bad to when he had the flare but still bad none the less, Thomas reassures him constantly and helps him calm down.

Being sick is a massiveee trigger for Newt. Fever, flu, vomiting you name it he’s on edge. Sometimes he gets in his own head and second guesses if he’s really cured but once again Thomas saves the day and is always there for him when he’s sick, staying home more to make sure he’s ok. (Writing a small fic about this btw!!!)

Newt is a back rub fanatic. Loves them. Receiving end or giving he does NOT care!! Thomas figured this out and whenever Newt is upset Thomas rubs his back

Fav kiss placements (giving and receiving):

Newt: gives cheek and neck kisses, loves receiving normal, forehead/hair kisses & neck kisses

Thomas: gives normal, just all over Newts face & neck kisses, loves receiving neck kisses and cheek kisses

More on neck kisses specifically there is a reason beside lust!! Its pulse points, reminds them that this is infact real and the other is ok :)

When they hold hands they sometimes check each others pulses out of habit, if in a uncomfortable scenario one will check the others and if it’s higher they gesture with a head nod if the other wants to leave

They both underestimate their own injuries, the other freaks out when the other is slightly sick/injured because in the scorch tiny cuts or the flu were very dangerous. Not much medicine or anything. Even in the safe haven, it’s a habit they won’t get rid of convinced it keeps them safe. They had a rule in the scorch that they had to tell the other if they were injuried since they own they themselves won’t see it as a big deal. Example:

*in the safe haven*

Thomas: hey Newt I got this cut on my hand today *shows palm, slight cut still bleeding*

Newt: *eyes widen in shock, grabbing Thomas’s hand careful not to touch the wound dragging him away*

Brenda: where are you going?!

Newt: to bandage it!! *tugs Thomas’s faster*

They do the whole deal. Cleaning, bandaging double checking etc :( poor boys

Newt tops, Thomas bottoms. No further questions!!

They are NOT picky eaters. At all. Plates fully clean, they do have favourites though

Newt: he loves sweet foods but also loves spicy food, adores pineapple with his whole heart

Thomas: loves salty food, not the biggest fan of spice. Loves carrots and apples though (the carrot one is canon I think)

Going on about food, they share food without question. Apple? Cut in half. Got a snack? Got extra for the other. The other still has food on their plate (very rare) the other will finish it off.

In the wicked facility whenever Thomas ever saw Newt besides sneaking out (rare af) sometimes they would purposely bump into each other just for an excuse to say hi, very very quickly whispering anything important before being ushered away

Sometimes, the others wouldn’t be there when Thomas snuck around so there were a handful of times it was just Thomas and Newt. Newt remembers this and told Thomas, Thomas however doesn’t and is very sad about it. :(

They have perfected lip reading to a tee. Having full on silent convos while everyone else is just like “really?! AGAIN?” Example:

*Newt and Thomas silently talking, gesturing a fuckton with there faces*

Minho: *whispers to Brenda* I’m slowly figuring out that lil shucking language they got going on

Brenda: *whispers back* how?!

They started learning in the scorch, since they rarely got a moment alone they would silently talk strategy. Slowly but surely it turned into silent flirting in the safe haven so Newt will just mouth something and and Thomas will go OUTLOUD “NEWT. NOT HERE!!” “Tommy they don’t know what I’m saying remember??” “… oh yeah”

Before they got together they got into heated arguments and even got slightly physical, all jokes of course but they would shove eachother around and grabbing each others shirts to “emphasise their point” (GAYYYY 🫵🫵🫵🫵)

Another long yap session, expect more. Also new lil fic on working on but do not threat!! I bet on losing dogs chapter 4 IS COMING OUT SOON. And I may write a short lil spin off of Thomas’s worst flare moments in his pov if yall would enjoy that. And soon one of my moots requested a Jeff x reader fic I usually don’t write those but that will be out soon too!!

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis

I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.

Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).

So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).

Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).

There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.

The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.

I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.

Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.

Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.

Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!

[ultrone]

I’m up late so here are some HC’s I have of the girlies

Nat:

- You get her one of those “back off, I love my gf” shirts as a joke, expecting her to never put it on and she wears it RELIGIOUSLY. She is so proud to wear that shit

- (If you’re lucky enough to have a positive male figure, a grandfather or father in your life) one time overhears Nat talking about her home life and now that male figure is determined to make her feel safe and happy. He’ll insist that you both join him for fishing and while you’re apprehensive, Nat is 100% down.

-She never has water or lunch because she forgets/chooses to not take care of herself so you drop it off to her at practice everyday

- She sleeps with a stuffed animal but will not let ANYONE know

Shauna:

- Early riser, even when sleeping w you but she will just happily lay next to you, holding your hand, admiring you while you sleep just taking you in for a few extra moments.

- she has a scrapbook of everything you guys have done (movie tickets, Polaroids, etc), and she also keeps all the flowers you’ve ever gotten her in there after they’ve dried and withered

- She loves stargazing, she knows astronomy and can and will point out the constellations to you

- Reading to or with each other is common and probably a love language, especially reading the other to sleep

Lottie:

- Surprisingly very good at all the fine arts; she can draw well, she definitely can play the piano bc her rich parents paid for her to have lessons, etc

- Blanket stealer; she insists on having the AC CRANKED at night, then steals the blankets while you both are sleeping and you wake up with hypothermia while she’s snuggled up in all your blankets

- She wasn’t allowed to have a pet so you buy her a single goldfish once and she loves it so much, she let you name it (you named it something stupid but she still calls it what you want) it dies in like 2 days because as intelligent as she is she is incapable of taking care of another living thing and she is inconsolable for days. You got her a succulent to make her feel better

Jackie:

- Clingy (derogatory) sure it’s cute of her at first until she’s waking up at 5 am for her morning practices and wakes you up too so you both can “brush your teeth together”

- She will always ask for your old marked up books to read and she makes small notes in the margins in a different color before giving them back (She has reading glasses too, and she looks gorgeous in them)

- She asks you to help her stretch, or roll out her muscles before practice but she doesn’t need help she just wants to get you flustered and have your hands all over her

I LOVE THEM 🤭

nat would wear that shirt 24/7 istg 😭 especially as her pjs, and omg i love the idea of your male parental figure inviting nat to everything as well 🥹 even if it’s just something simple like going out for brunch, it’d make her feel way better and more welcomed. and her forgetting to bring lunch everyday is SO REAL 😭 then she’ll prolly buy a bag of chips and a soda as her first meal of the day and then complain about having a stomach ache 🙄 GIRL… also for sure, i bet her plushy is a little white bunny with long ears that was given to her as a toddler.

shauna has always given me the vibe that she wakes up at 9am idk but yeah she’d def just lay there looking at you 😭😭 and the scrapbook thing is SO TRUE, i bet she also adds entries of everything you do together 🫣 since she loves stargazing you got her one of those custom star maps of your anniversary day and she LOVED IT 🥹 and she for sure loves reading to you and hearing you read her favourite books to her

i def see lottie being good at drawing and playing the piano 😌 i also bet she’s especially good at painting landscapes and stuff like that. whenever u complain about her taking the blankets, she’ll just tell you to snuggle up to her to get warmer instead of actually sharing her blanket with you 🙄🙄 but if you’re the one stealing the blankets she’ll pout and whine for hours until you share them with her… the AUDACITY 😒 my girl came back from school on a random day and realized the goldfish wasn’t there anymore, she got concerned and asked the domestic helper what had happened, and she told her that the fish died like two weeks ago ☠️☠️ when i tell u lottie was SHOCKED… she was so embarrassed that she told you that it got a weird disease and died from natural causes LMFAOO

jackie waking you up so you can brush your teeth together is so real 😭😭 my girl doesn’t get the concept of having “alone time.” i just know it takes jackie an hour to read 3 pages, i bet she spends half of that time drawing silly little doodles all over the margins ☠️ and for sure, she also asks u to rub sunscreen on her body even though she could do it herself, she just wants to feel your touch 🫣

[miss-madness67]

Cool Cosplay (Dean W.)

Prompt: You go to a Supernatural convention and -unknowingly- meet Dean.

The Supernatural convention is finally here. You’ve been waiting for months for the gathering, supposedly, Carver Edlund, the writer, was going to make an appearance late in the afternoon. The Supernatural books belong to a small niche because not everyone likes them. So when you started reading, you had trouble finding people involved in the fandom as much as you. Meeting new fans became a slow process of writing on the internet forum. That’s how you met one of your best friends, Celeste Middleton.

She seemed very into the books, just like you, although her fanaticism was different because she didn't partake in the discussion of the characters or the narrative, she was mostly interested in learning about the monsters and the ways to kill them. You, on the other hand, couldn't shut up about your love for Castiel, and how much of an underrated character he was. But because you were also interested in the monsters, you became quick friends and met up a couple of times. It was she that told you about the supernatural convention. You also agreed to go together and dress up as your favorite characters. You, obviously put on a trench coat, and she decided to be Charlie, the redheaded tech friend of the hunter brothers.

“Even if you’re a redhead, I still don’t think you quite fit as Charlie.” You tell her while walking through the stands.

One of the sellers has a collection of Castiel stickers that you stop to watch. The best thing about this type of convention is that everyone in the fandom can bring their own things to share and sell. If the fandom were bigger, that probably wouldn't be allowed.

“Really?” Celeste asks with incredulity. “I’m a hacker; she’s a hacker, I’m gay; she’s gay, I’m a badass; she’s a badass. What’s more to compare?”

“Celeste, there’s more to Charlie than being gay, you know?”

She chuckles, “oh, believe me, I know.” She murmurs.

You’re about to answer something when one of the nearby stands calls your attention. It’s one of the writers whose fanfic you’ve been reading. “C’mon, let’s go over here.” She follows without hesitation.

While you decide to buy one of the copies of your favorite fanfiction, your friend’s checking something on her phone. “So, you remember the friends I told you about?”

You think briefly, “the ones that were curious about the convention and wanted to come?”

“The same ones!” She announces, “they just got here, wait for me while I go get them?”

You're way too interested in your new acquisition, to really pay attention to her words. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Celeste told you about some friends that she had that weren't supernatural fans, but wanted to get to know the fandom and the surrounding fame. You're not sure whether there's anything interesting to learn considering they haven’t read the books, but you’ll be the best tour guide you can be. Your friend comes back shortly after, followed by two tall guys that are dressed up in a way that reminds you, probably too much, of certain characters in the books.

“I thought you said they weren’t fans?” You ask Celeste.

The one dressed up as Dean chuckles, “oh, we’re not, sweetheart, believe me.”

You look at him with incredulity, “well, then, why are you dressed up as Dean, and your friend here as Sam?”

The Sam cosplayer shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny. The Dean cosplayer, though, is quick to answer, “because we are Sam and Dean.”

The encounter is proving to be way too funny. You look back at Celeste, “and they role-play too?” In spite of being dressed as Castiel, you’ve never been too much of a role player, so it amuses you that some non-fans are very into the characters. Even fake Dean’s voice is how you imagined real Dean’s voice would be like.

Sam throws an annoyed glance at Dean . “What my ah- friend here is trying to say is that our names are actually Sam and Dean, and Cha- Celeste convinced us to come as the characters in the books.” There’s something in his words that doesn’t quite persuade you.

“I see,” you murmur, “you did a great job!” Your wary demeanor instantly shifts to a friendly one. “You really do look like Sam and Dean.”

Celeste chooses that moment to finally speak, “and I don’t look like Charlie?!” There’s incredulity and exasperation in her tone.

Because you already had this discussion multiple times in the day, you decide to ignore her. Looking at Dean, you add, “though you need the Samulet, did you forget to put it on?” You pull something out of your trench coat pocket, “here, I’ll give you mine.” Technically, your costume didn’t need the jewelry, but you decided to keep it for some reason.

You extend your arm and give it to Dean, who takes it reluctantly. “Oh, thanks? But I’m good.” He tries to give it back.

“No, I insist. If you’re going to do cosplay, you’re going to do it good.” At your insistence, he takes it.

Celeste smiles mischievously. “Yes, my friend right here is a very good fan of Supernatural.” She looks up and down your outfit, “guess who her favorite character is.”

You don’t even let the boys speak, “obviously Castiel.” As if there’s any contest with the rest of the characters. “After all, he’s an Angel of the Lord .” Your imitation is too bad that Sam and Charlie can’t avoid laughing.

Dean chuckles, “so, you’re not a Dean girl?” You’re not sure, but there’s something in his voice akin to disappointment.

“Dean is ok, but there’s no one like Castiel.” You clear your throat, trying to contain the excitement when speaking of your favorite character. “I mean, he’s sweet, powerful, understanding…”

“Cas? Really?” Now he’s almost indignant, “and Dean is definitely more than ok.”

Now, normally, you’re a pacifist, but you’re not going to let this rando talk bad about your fictional love. “How would you know? Considering that you’ve never read the books before.”

There’s a hint of condescension in his voice, “oh, honey, I know, I-.”

But before he can say anything else, Sam interrupts. “So! Why don’t you girls show us around?”

Dean seems to be completely annoyed by being interrupted, but he doesn’t complain when his friend Sam tugs him forward. At this point, a lot more people have arrived at the convention. The fans of Supernatural are not enough to be a crowd, but not as small as to allow you to recognize everyone. Your group is not the only one dressed up as the characters. You mostly see Deans and Sams lingering around, but there are also some Bobbys, Johns, Castiels, and even famous monsters like the walling woman. Sam and Dean (the ones in your group) take everything in with open eyes, and, sometimes, uncomfortable gazes. You and Celeste show them to the different stands, there are merchandise, game tables, fanfiction tables, fanart artists, and discussion tables. There’s anything and everything to make the Supernatural experience enjoyable. You can even see a fake tattoo artist draw a devil’s trap, in, well, a fake Meg.

“Oh, and the author, Carver Edlund, is supposed to be giving a conference and signing,” you finish your tour.

This last bit is what interests the boys the most, “really? Do you know when?” 

“Uh, I don’t know. I suppose in a few hours,” you answer Sam’s question.

If he is disappointed by your lack of knowledge, you don't notice because you're too busy now looking at a stand full of drawing of different supernatural characters. It doesn't take you long to buy what you want, though, by the time you turn around, you see that all of your companions are chatting in whispers a few steps away. They seem to be in a heated discussion, so you don't dare to go near them. Whatever they're talking about must be private. Nevertheless, on some occasions, you catch them looking your way and then continue speaking. Are they talking about you? Out of the blue, Dean and Sam start a game of rock, paper, and scissors. Dean wins and cheers in place as if it’s something that doesn’t happen often. Before you can even try to make up your mind to approach them, Celeste and Sam walk away, while Dean returns to you.

“What happened? Where are Celeste and Sam going?”

Dean answers without hesitation, “they're taking care of something, don't worry. Why don’t you keep showing me around? They'll be back in a bit.”

Despite the fact that you are still worried about the sudden turn of events, you decide to listen to him and venture to some of the stands with Dean's company. He seems to be very on high alert because he keeps looking everywhere like something is about to jump from the crowd. He also looks at the “monsters” with a particularly nasty frown on his face that earns him some compliments for being very ‘Dean’. The demeanor, though, appears too real to be fake. You try and encourage him to buy a few things while he waits you wait for your friends to return, but he really is not interested. You even suggest playing a game, but he refuses. The only thing he seems to be remotely curious about is a particular stand on Supernatural creatures the brothers have defeated. You try to be a good guide by letting him in on your knowledge about the supernatural.

“And you learned all of this from the books?” He is really surprised by all the things that you've told him, even to the point of slightly forgetting about keeping his guard up.

“Some, other things I’ve researched on my own or Celeste told me.” Your hand caresses one of the books’ covers with a vampire. “I know it’s not real, but it’s fascinating to know.”

Then you dive into a full-on explanation about the different, fictional, possible ways one can get rid of certain monsters that you come up with. Things that supernatural books and your research don’t quite show that you think could work as an alternative to certain methods. You jokingly tell him that sometimes your mind wanders into the possibility of the supernatural being real, and you cannot help to think about it. Dean seems deeply impressed, and then something else.

“You know? You’d make one hell of a hunter,” he nods approvingly.

“IF hunters were real,” you respond instantly.

He chuckles, “sure, sure, if they were.”

You continue through the convention for half an hour, this time he seems to be more taken by you than before, because, despite that he’s still on guard, he makes conversation about yourself and your interest in The Supernatural books. He even tries to convince you that the best character is not Cas, but Dean. You believe that he is biased, considering that his name is the same one as the one from the character. Sometimes you notice the way his eyes look at your figure, and you cannot find it in yourself to feel angry. More like there's a small part of you that cannot help to gloat at the feeling of a handsome man finding you attractive. Though, you believe it must have to do also with the fact that, for some reason, besides his name, your mind cannot seem to stop pairing him up with Dean from the books. You’ve never been a Dean girl, but you’re starting to think you could maybe make an exception. He has something that draws you in. Whatever it is, you’re a goner because, by the time Celeste and Sam come back, they find you entangled in each other’s arms, kissing near the restroom’s door.

A/N: For plot’s sake, let’s imagine Charlie is in the Supernatural books. Also, if reader is dressed up as Castiel, does this count as Destiel?

[anadiasmount]

Could you do one about how Christian would be as a dad to be? Like during pregnancy and when the baby is born please?

i’m guessing you wanted this as a head cannon? if not i hope you don’t mind if i do it like this ❣️

masterlist

when you reveal to him ur pregnant, he’s in utter shock. which makes you feel uneasy, until you feel him bend down to his knees and hug your stomach. his head laying on your abdomen where he talks with the baby. he cries and pours his heart out of him being so happy and grateful for you. “is this actually real? i’m going to be a dad?”

despite his heavy and hectic schedule he still attends the doctors appointment every time. he drives you there, opens the door for you, holds your hand, and even checks in with the receptionist for you. while waiting for the midwife, he talks to you about the nursery, and the different color schemes he likes.

you have to reassure him every time you wince at the cold sensation of the gel, bc he gets so concerned, only wanting for you to be comfortable and safe. he holds your left hand constantly kissing it, as you watch your baby through the ultrasound. “look at the baby! i want to meet them already…”

his brown eyes widen when you get to hear your babies heartbeat for the first time. he shakes his head with excitement, and tells you he wants to hear it all the time. he even goes out to buy a baby heart beat monitor. “christian, seriously?” “can you blame me? i love the sound. it’s our baby’s heartbeat.”

throughout the pregnancy he makes it the priority for you to be relaxing and resting at all times, making you feel completely helpless. you’re so used to moving around and getting different tasks done, so when this happens you just have to bite your tongue. knowing christian is so protective of you and his baby. “don’t you dare move. i’ll be right back.”

you sometimes take trips to different to baby stores to check out the cribs, clothes, beds, carriers, strollers, some bottles, breastfeeding pumps, etc. he’s such a dad already, and researches the best products so the two of you can buy. “i saw this stroller online, it’s a 2-in-1. let’s go check it out.”

when the day of gender reveal comes around, the two of you decided to head north to Hershey, where all his family and yours reunite to celebrate. you asked his sister to surprise you, and she couldn’t back down on the idea, more than ready and excited to do so. especially since you helped her with hers. “OMG I WOULD BE SO HONORED!”

he’s dressed in a white button up, and you with a tight white dress with brown sandals. you kiss his cheek and jaw when you feel his hand nervously draw shapes on your bump. “you okay chris?” “yeah. just nervous that’s all. we finally get put out our misery,” he’d joke.

the long debate of whether it was a boy or girl ends, when you the color blue pops out. you immediately let out a small laughter and began to let out a couple tears of joy, which causes christian to softly kiss you and wipe them away. “we’re having a baby boy! a mini me running around!”

the next few months fly by. the now impatient waiting for your due date to appear. the constant cycles of going to pee, take frequent naps, weird craving, insomnia kicking ur ass. but despite it all, christian is there to guide and help you. “how can you eat that?” he’d say, “oh shut up. it’s this or me being cranky. so you decide…”

one thing you especially love is where he pulls out his guitar and sings to the baby, where they respond by kicking your belly when they hear the small noises. christian also reads to the baby, his head on your bump while reading nursery books. “you see here? this story is about how the piggy went to market.”

the day before labor, you feel the contractions and cramps. taking small step around the house, your hair in a messy clip, sighing and breathing in and out. christian is there to help you practice breathing methods, and timing the contractions before it’s go time. “ready? 1,2,3,4… let it out… there we go… again….”

after ur water breaks, you began to get nervous and filled with anxiety, but he reassures you everything will be okay. “i’m here baby. i’m here for you and our baby boy okay? scream, cry, laugh all you want.”

christian ties you hair up, holds your strong grip hand around his and you walk around the hospital room, he wipes off the sweat and applied cold wraps around your head to ease the heat. he whispers words of encouragement to you, rubbing your back and abdomen when the pain gets bad. “i’m going to change this okay? this will help your back better. just breath baby, im here for you.”

christian gets a bit light headed during labor, especially at the sight of his baby coming out of you. he just nervously laughs it off, holding your hand and encouraging you to push. the relief on your face once you let out that final push and hear your baby cry, ends his misery and wait. “you did it baby! i’m so proud of you…”

when he finally holds his baby, he cries. especially when the baby wraps his hand around christians pinky. feeling the bundle of joy in his arms is the most happiest day of his life, right after meeting you of course. all you can do is tiredly watch as your boys hold each other. “he’s so tiny” he coos, “he has your brows and lips…”

when coming home he helps you inside the house, going back and forth to gets the bags, and baby carrier. he heats up some pads and some water for you to make some coffee or tea. he puts your feet up to reduce the swelling and kisses your head while holding you. the baby sound asleep in your arms after feeding him.

with one hand he opens the nursery door, the baby occupying the other one as christian hold him secured. you follow behind him, wrapping a hand around his tattoed bicep. he looks around proudly at the monsters inc decorated themed room, before whispering, “welcome home theo… daddy and mommy love you so much…”

[dsybouquet]

nine while nine - ellie williams

“and the lipstick on my cigarettes, frost upon the window pane. nine while nine and i’m waiting for the train.”

cw: smoking, mention of smoking weed, mention of od’s (just tiny not related to ellie or reader at all !!), neither angsty nor happy, ellie and reader talking the whole time, no real story to follow

„Fuck this.“, Ellie sweared to herself, watching her train pass by.

Of course she had to miss the earliest train home after a late shift. It being already 9pm, she dropped onto a bench, lighting up a cigarette carelessly.

She had a shitty day and missing the train was the cherry on top. Nevertheless, she couldn’t change her situation. Could only get better from here on, she thought.

Slumbed on that bench, she pulled her scarf closer around her neck. The months kept on getting colder and colder as winter approached. To her surprise snow wasn’t falling yet - perhaps a good sign.

Ellie silently watched the people, though there were hardly any. Most of them appeared to be students that drove home after uni, standing in the cold alongsides homeless people begging for money to buy booze and food - hoping to find a warm place to spend the night in.

„What a sad world we live in.“, a voice said next to her. Ellies head turned and next to her sat a girl, lips painted in blood red lipstick, eyes tired.

„The guy you were watching, he‘d just trying to get money for drugs and will spend the night in the hospital after overdosing.“

The girl pointed at a man, he looked tired, fragile, his body shivering either because of the cold or a possible neglect of poison in his system.

„Yeah. That’s so sad.“, Ellie replied, exhaling the smoke of her cigarette in the pale light of the trainstation laterns.

She eyed the girl again. Her black coat covered almost her entire body, only her heeled boots were visible underneath.

She too light up a cigarette, watching the people in the same silence Ellie had just seconds before she had appeared.

„Do you ever wonder what lifes they live? If they‘re happy?“, she then asked, exhaling the smoke away from Ellies face.

„Sometimes, yeah. Hard to tell.“

Ellies eyes where glued on the girl. Her lipstick staining her cigarette in a pretty red tone, it almost looking like blood coated the filter.

The night was clear, stars slightly visible through the light pollution of their city. The moon as bright as ever. If it wasn’t for the streetlights maybe he could illuminate the entire town by himself.

„What train are you waiting for?“, Ellie dared to ask the girl.

„The one for 9pm, but it had passed already. Will have to wait for the 9.40 train now. You?“, she smiled slightly, inhaling another bit of smoke before exhaling, looking hauntingly beautiful in Ellie’s eyes.

„9.29.“

And they turned silent again. The cold made it unbearable to wait, but there was no inside area at small train stations like this.

Usually, Ellie would kindly decline talks at this hour. She just wanted to go home, roll a blunt and smoke it with a shitty sitcom playing in the background.

But today, she did want to talk. The girl was so.. special, sort of. She didn’t know her, she was a stranger. But something about her was so interesting, breathtaking too.

“Isn’t it so interesting how we see these people every day, taking the same train but we know nothing about them? Their lives, their dark secrets, their routines. Yet we’re kind of a part in it by spending time with them every day at the train station.”, the girl continued, throwing the filter of the cigarette on the ground, exhaling a last bit of smoke.

“Thats crazy, now that I think of it. I see some of them every day, others once a week.”

At this point Ellie figured the girl was a psychology student or a girl that reads too many books. She looked like a Sisters of Mercy song and talked like the biggest poet.

The girl looked at Ellie, taking in her auburn hair, her green eyes and freckles.

“Your face too tells a story, like the little scar on your eyebrow or the eye bangs. Wonder how these things happened.”

Ellie instinctively touched her scar. She tends to forget about it, to forget about how she got into a fight with some guy trying to give her less money for her weed and how she punched his face and he returned the fist too quick for Ellie to dodge.

“Guess we all have our secrets.”

Ellie light up another cigarette, watching every move the girl took.

“I too wonder about you, your ambitions, your past.”, she then added, watching the girl steal the cigarette from her hands.

“As you said, we all have our secrets.”

She put it between her lips and inhaled, her eyes never leaving Ellies. And Ellie couldn’t help but to grin at the silliness of this situation. Sharing a cigarette with a stranger at the train station while waiting for the train.

“What’s so funny?”, she asked, returning the cigarette with a lipstick stain to it. Ellie looked at it.

“Nothing really. Just didn’t have a good conversation like this in a while.“, her eyes went up to the girl as she spoke, taking in the beauty she held for a second.

„Glad to hear th-“

She was interrupted by the automatic train station voice announcing their train to arrive, 9 minutes early.

„Guess that was a good spend of time.“

“Whats your name?“, Ellie asked, standing up and taking the cigarette up to her lips.

„______.“

„I‘m Ellie. Nice to meet you.“

Gently, they shook hands before Ellie turned around to watch her train drive in.

She turned around to wave goodbye, but the girl had vanished, leaving Ellie in confusion.

Yet, she was just a stranger and Ellie just waited for her train.

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (48)

*When Felix was outed as a Ravinstill* Read [this] first.

Felix: Hi, Dill.

Dill: Hey, Philip.

Felix: How are you holding up?

Dill: Fine. Those ✨Miracle Pills✨ you gave me earlier worked wonders!

Hy: True. They even cured my f*ckin’ Asthma.

Dill: Stop swearing in front of me, Hy.🙄

Felix: So you two are not coughing blood anymore?

Hy: Yup! My lungs are good as new!

Dill: I can even sing better than Baird-

Lucy Gray: Are you challenging me to a sing-off, child?!

Jessup: Lucy Gray, stop being mean-

Lucy Gray: Fight me, Dill! Fight me! C’mon now! Let’s have a sing-off battle!

Jessup: Lucy Gray, no-

Lucy Gray: Lucy Gray, yes!

Felix: By the way, I brought you guys some homemade pizzas and lemonade from my place to enjoy-

Mizzen: Thanks. But can we order takeouts again?

Dill: I want takeouts too. That green bean casserole was so good-

Brandy: I need another whole ass chicken, boy! A whole ass chicken!

Lamina: Can we order that famous pink peppermint ice cream from that boring Capitol commercial?

Felix: But I have pizza-

Lamina: Pretty please?🥺🙏

Felix: Um-

Lamina: I never tasted ice cream before!😭

Velvereen: I’m starting to think that those are just fake tears.😒

Lamina: My tears are real!😭

Velvereen: Then why aren’t you dying from dehydration?

Lamina: Velvet is bullying me again!😭

Velvereen: 🎶Fake tears~, fake tears~. Lamina has fake ass tears~.🎶

Lamina: I’ll f*ckin’ axe you and your ugly braids, 1!😭

Treech: 🎶Oh, Velvereen, you better watch out~. You better watch out~.🎶

Felix: Why am I even here again?

Coral: Oi, Philip, where’s my red headed idiot? He still owes me a whole ass cheesecake!

Felix: Red headed idio- Oh, you mean Festus?

Coral: Duh~. Who else?

Felix: He’s in juvenile jail right now. But don’t worry about it. We’re bailing him out later.

Coral: What did that idiot do now?

Felix: Creed was caught trespassing and dumpster diving on private property.

Coral: Whose property?

Felix: The President’s.😩

Coral: Nice one, Festus! F*ck those sh*tty Ravinstills!

Marcus: Yeah! F*ck the Ravinstills!

Mizzen: And their ugly Bichon puppies!

Felix: I feel so attacked right now.🥲

Treech: How about that pretty blondie and his rich annoying boyfriend?

Lucy Gray: FYI, Sejanus is Coryo’s ✨fiancé✨, Treech.

Tanner: More like his sugar daddy.

Wovey: What’s a sugar daddy?

Tanner: That’s when-

Marcus: Shut it, Tanner! Think of the children!

Felix: Well, Coryo and Sejanus are actually busy-

Treech: Making out in a gold encrusted broom closet?

Felix: Huh?

Sheaf: Planning for their upcoming royal wedding?

Felix: Um-

Sol: Booking their first honeymoon!

Felix: That’s-

Lucy Gray: Can you call them right now? I really need those lovebirds to buy me some makeup and hair curlers for our upcoming late night interview with the funny man.

Reaper: Yo, shorty, where’s my Mentor? She gave me the wrong flavored energy drink again-

Felix: First of all, I am only here to help Dill! So if you guys have problems that you want to cry about, then complain about them to your Mentors!

Facet: Oh, you look kinda cute when you’re angry, Philip~.😏

Coral: Lol. Look at Philip fuming like a baby.😂

Mizzen: Are you gonna cry, Philip?

Felix: You guys are so mean! I’m going home-

Androcles: Yo, Felix! My man, what are you doing here?

Felix: Andie?!

Coryo: Hi, Felix. How’s it going?

Felix: Coryo, please don’t use that name-

Dill: Who’s Felix, Philip?

Sejanus: Felix, my Coryo just kissed me earlier! I’m so happy!😍

Dill: Who’s Felix?!

Dennis: Yo, Ravinstill, can I borrow 50 bucks from the President again?

Felix: I- Um- I’m not-

Clemensia: Hey, Ravinstill, Monty wants to talk to you about her “kitchen rights” again.

Felix: I’m so dead-

Dill: Ravinstill?! You’re a nasty Ravinstill?!

Reaper: F*ckin’ Felix Ravinstill!!

Felix: Yup. I’m dead.

Dill: You lying traitor!

Mizzen: You monster!

Velvereen: Capitol scum!

Reaper: F*ck off and die!

Coral: Fight me, you coward!

Androcles: Yo, why are you bullying Felix?! My bromantic brother did nothing wrong!

Dennis: Yeah! Quit swearing at our poor Class President!

Reaper: He’s an evil Ravinstill!

Sejanus: He’s our baby!

Brandy: He gave me no chicken!

Clemensia: F*ck your chicken!

Dill: He lied to me!

Androcles: He’s just sensitive! Look at him!

Felix: *is not responding*

Coryo: Call the medics, Babe. Felix just fainted.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

I saw drabbles were open and I am here to be a menace to society~

Typical evening in the WooJoongJong (idk sis if u got a better name I'm all ears 😭) dorm? Maybe them arguing over dinner and gn!9th member MC platonically getting in on the chaos?

I just love those three platonically sm, genuinely wanna be besties they seem like a riot

ok ok i had a lot of fun writing this 😭 do i know what the fuck is going on?? no, but at least it was enjoyable

thank you for the ask, love 💗💗 this was a blast to write

✭✭✭✭

If you were being honest, quiet was a rare occurrence in the dorms. With the sheer number of people, it was almost impossible that you would find a moment of complete silence in your day in the dorms. 

Tonight, though, it seemed like that might happen. You and Jongho slurped away at the dinner you had so graciously cooked for the two of you (it was payment for him killing the roach you had found in the bathroom only two days prior). No words were exchanged. He silently scrolled on his phone while you skimmed through the book you were trying to read. It was incredibly boring, but somehow you didn’t mind. It was peaceful. 

You were excited to hopefully enjoy a nice and peaceful night. It was the start of a night you could only dream of.

But when Hongjoong burst out of the bedroom, your dreams instantly shattered. Wooyoung trailed behind him. Both looked unsettled. Joong was clearly upset, and Wooyoung looked like he had gotten the first glimpse of that. You could only assume you and the man seated across from you were going to receive the next moments of his rage.

Jongho, clearly unbothered, had yet to look up from his phone. 

“Alright!” Hongjoong started. You waited in anticipation, but Jongho only glanced up at the man, “Who broke the lamp?”

“What lamp?” Jongho inquired. 

Hongjoong scoffed, “What lamp?” he mocked, voice pitched higher than usual. “We only have one fucking lamp. And it’s broken. So…who broke it?”

You and Jongho glanced at each other. Clearly thinking the same thing. You both turned to him, “Wooyoung.”

“Ok fuck you guys,” the aforementioned man piped up from behind Hongjoong, “You both know I didn’t break it. It was that stupid rabbit Y/n brought home last week.”

You gawked at him, “Snitch.”

“Rabbit!?” Hongjoong was clearly thrown off by the presence of the little critter you had acquired.

“Yeah Y/n bought a rabbit, and they’ve been keeping it under your bed,” Jongho finally put his phone down, “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.” 

You shook your head, so called friends. They had promised they wouldn’t tell, but you, too, honestly were pretty surprised Joong had yet to notice the newly acquired animal. She wasn’t quiet, at all, and she shed profusely. Maybe he had thought the hair was one of your guys’.

“Why the fuck did you get a rabbit? What happened to ‘no pets’?”

Shrugging, you answered him, “She was really cute. I couldn’t help it! And it’s only temporary! My parents are coming to get her next month when they visit Seoul. I honestly didn’t think it would matter since she’s in a cage when you're here.”

“So you were purposely hiding it from me?”

“Her. I was specifically hiding her from you. Because I knew you’d freak out.”

You saw the door behind him open, and behind him emerged Jongho (who you didn’t notice had gotten up from the table). He had the rabbit in his arms. 

He showed her to Hongjoong. “She’s honestly pretty cute.” Jongho said, pushing the rabbit into your friend’s arms.

You, in real time, watched him melt at the sight of the little white bunny. 

“Ok, yeah she is kinda cute.”

You laughed at him.

“But the lamp is still broken.”

You waved a dismissive hand, “We can just buy a new one.”

Joong glared at you, “No, you can by a new one. And I’m keeping the rabbit.”

“What!? No the fuck your not!”

He shrugged and retreated into the bedroom with your daughter in his arms.

[sundaynightlive]

august of ‘85 (Steddie, Part 1)

Steve’s hands are shaking, which is not entirely conducive to safe driving. His legs, too—he’s trembling all over. He’s had (and seen) enough panic attacks to know what’s happening. He feels like he’s going to throw up. He feels like he’s going to pass out.

He drives.

He struggles to maintain an acceptable speed, struggles not to plow through stop signs and over curbs to take corners a little sharper, get there a little quicker. He curses his parents for building a house so far from Hawkin’s tiny little doctor’s office, stupidly wishing he could’ve run there, because maybe that would’ve gotten rid of some of this nauseating adrenaline. He can’t tell if he’s building or crashing.

He coughs. It’s half a gag. Now is not the time to be gagging.

Steve tries desperately to take his mind off it, but all he can think about is Eddie. Eddie.

And August of ‘85.

But first, the end of July—

“I’m sorry, pumpkin,” his mom is saying over the phone.

It’s not like he’s all that upset—he had expected this. At least this time his parents had had the decency to warn him they wouldn’t be joining him at their beach house in Maine. The last three years, it had been a crapshoot, and if they did show, they stayed a week, max, and left Steve alone for the majority of August. This would’ve been fine, if Steve had brought anyone down there with him, but he always chickened out of inviting people, false hope overcoming harsh reality each time.

Being alone wasn’t so bad. He had all the time in the world to watch movies, visit the sights, walk along the beach, and read old books (that he suspected were meant to be decorative) he found around the home.

And he cleaned. He cleaned and managed the upkeep. He hired people to paint and he moved furniture around sometimes or bought something new if he decided his mother’s tastes had changed—he’d be damned if he was going to let them sell this place, not when all his happiest childhood memories resided here, and not when it was his only real escape from Hawkins, Indiana.

No, the house would be kept and it didn’t matter if his entire trust fund went towards it. He wasn't going to college, wasn’t moving somewhere expensive, wasn’t buying sports-cars or a thousand-dollar engagement ring for a long-time girlfriend.

He was keeping this damn house.

It’s all he had left of them.

“I’ll still go down,” he tells her, “But, yeah, that’s alright. I figured.”

“Aw, pumpkin, have fun, okay? I know you love it up there. Maybe take Nancy?” Steve flinches. Had he forgotten to tell them? Or had she just forgotten? He can’t remember.

“Right, okay. Love you, mom.”

“Love you, too, pumpkin. I’ll talk to you later.”

And by later, she means sometime within the next few months or so.

Steve hangs the phone on the receiver and sighs, stretching a little bit and mentally shuffling through possible outfits. It’s almost noon, and he has plans. Well… half-plans. He hadn’t exactly agreed to meet Dustin and Munson for lunch, but Dustin would be expecting him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to disappoint the kid. He’s pretty apprehensive about being seen in public with the local drug-dealer and town-pariah, but Dustin has been insisting for a couple months now (all summer) that Eddie is ‘cool’ and Steve should ‘get to know him.’

How did you even fall in with this guy? He’s, like, greasy.

Freshman orientation—and he is not. Greasy. He’s really, really cool and funny and I want my two best-friends to also be friends.

Why are both your best-friends full-grown adults?

Why’s your best friend a 14 year old?

Touché. But I’m not wrong about Munson—he’s sketchy. He sells drugs.

This sounds like ‘King’ Steve talking.

King Steve wasn’t wrong about everything, Dustin.

Yes. Yes he was.

And the argument had gone on, but Dustin is impossible to outsmart or convince, so Steve had ultimately been roped into this whole ‘coffee date’ situation.

Not date. It’s not a date. It’s coffee. He’s not sure why he put it like that.

In fact, this is so casual and so pointless and so stupid that Steve is going to wear his least-expensive pair of jeans, and a t-shirt.

That’s how much he doesn’t care.

He puts some version of that on, and then immediately decides against it. He’s not used to looking so casual, and he will be in public, and despite the fallout with his friends, and his quest to be okay with being unpopular, he’s not exactly willing to also be unattractive. Not that clothes are always what makes people attractive, but it is what makes him attractive.

The nice jeans that sculpt his ass, the polos tight against his chest and working wonders for his arms—yeah, that’s Steve.

Nice jeans, blue and green polo shirt—he checks himself over in the mirror a couple times. He feels good, normal, right.

So he leaves.

On the drive over, he finds himself nervous, and understandably so. He gets along with most people easily, but Eddie Munson isn’t most people. Eddie’s like Robin, and Robin didn’t come to him easily at all. On the bright side, Steve had never been one of Eddie’s tormentors—that had been reserved for ‘popular’ upperclassmen. Eddie was technically a grade ahead of him and therefore higher on the high school food-chain despite his well-known loser-ness. Steve didn’t deal in making kids older than him miserable—just younger.

But Steve was still a well-known ass, and Eddie knew that, and if it was going to be anything like talking to Rob was, then Steve was in for a barrage of snide little side comments that he ultimately deserved, but made him uncomfortable, anyway.

Might as well prepare all his sincere responses—

I’m not like that anymore.

I’m sorry.

I know. I was stupid.

He parks. He sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. He steps out of the car.

He freezes.

Dustin and Munson are standing outside the coffee shop, chatting, and the sight sends something incredibly foreign into his guts, something he wants to clock as jealousy, but doesn’t feel like jealousy. It feels more like—

No. Nope. Nada. Not that.

Eddie Munson doesn’t look the way Steve remembers at all. He remembers choppy brown hair, wiry limbs, and clothes that never fit him—most of this is from ages ago, though, when Steve was a freshman. Eddie was in his home room that year, but after that, he rarely even saw him in passing.

This Eddie Munson, on the 20th of July, 1985, is not wiry, and wearing clothes that definitely fit him, with brown curls (like Nancy’s) clipped back to keep them off his neck in the heat. His outfit—this cropped band tee and jeans and boots—flatters him. It does more than flatter him, but Steve doesn’t think like that, so no it doesn’t.

It just flatters him.

Anyway—

Steve unfreezes. Dustin finally spots him and grins, waving him over. Eddie spots him, too, which is greatly unnerving, but whatever. Steve runs his hand through his hair again, trying to ground himself.

What is happening?

“Hey Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve.”

Steve extends a hand—sort of a peace offering—and is relieved when Eddie takes it.

“Dustin tells me you’re not a douche anymore,” Eddie says.

Oh, here we go.

“Trying not to be,” Steve answers, politely.

“Cool,” Eddie replies, dropping his hand, “How do you feel about Star Wars?”

What? Star Wars? Steve’s brow furrows of its own accord. He looks over at Dustin, who’s trying and failing to feign some sort of innocence.

“You told him I like Star Wars?”

“It’s the only thing you two have in common,” Dustin admits, and Eddie grins—blinding. His smile is blinding. That’s all Steve has to say about that.

“Luke Skywalker or Han Solo?” Eddie asks, and Steve’s brows raise this time, instead.

“Solo. Obviously.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong—“

And it comes alarmingly easily to them. Talking with Dustin and Eddie is like spreadable butter on toast, and it has Steve in a daze of disbelief for about the entire time. The conversation doesn’t even cease when Dustin gets up to go to the bathroom—they’re arguing about the band on Eddie’s t-shirt, whether or not Steve would like metal if he tried it, if it’s “the future of music” or just a bunch of screaming. Eddie doesn’t get mad about it, just insistent.

Steve concedes, eventually, that he doesn’t actually know what he’s talking about, and that most of his opinions are just other people’s opinions.

“We’ll listen, sometime,” Eddie says, “I have tons of tapes—I’ll bet you a hundred bucks you like it.”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

And that’s how Steve and Eddie end up hanging out at Steve’s the next day, listening to all sorts of stuff—a lot of the harder stuff isn’t really Steve’s thing, but he has to admit, at the end of the day, he did like a vast majority of what Eddie played for him.

And he really enjoyed Eddie’s company. A little too much, maybe.

“Pay up, Harrington.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve relents, “I owe you.”

“Good thing, too,” Eddie jokes, “I do not have a hundred bucks handy.”

Steve laughs. He had suspected that, but it didn’t matter to him. He liked Eddie’s company. Spending the day with someone he actually liked would’ve been payment enough. Steve doesn’t usually get to do that unless he’s working—he and Rob hang out sometimes, but her mom’s so goddamn strict trying to convince her to let Robin hang out alone with a guy is near impossible.

Hopefully, when summer’s up she’ll let Steve drive Robin to school or something.

“Figured that,” Steve replies.

An offended gasp— “Are you calling me poor, Steve?”

There’s a beat of silence, Steve’s heart sinking a little. Had that been presumptive? Why had ge automatically assumed Eddie wasn’t good for it?

Shit.

Shit.

What? No, I—“

“Steve. I’m joking. I am poor. Obviously.”

Steve glares.

“Asshole.”

“You really have changed, huh?”

It feels really good to hear someone like Eddie say it.

The rest is ancient history. They’re friends, good friends, for the rest of July. And sure, that’s only eleven days, but nine out of eleven of them Steve sees, or at least talks to Eddie. He comes into family video, they chat over the phone, Steve even goes to one of Eddie’s goofy ass garage-concerts.

It’s not half bad. Eddie’s a fantastic guitar player. That part is impressive. More than impressive.

Maybe.

“You really won’t come?” Steve whines a few days before he’s set to leave for Maine, and Robin glares at him, obviously annoyed. He’s asked about twenty times in the last two days, and for the last twenty-times, it’s always the same answer—

My mom would never in a million years let me be alone with you for an entire month. And I have to work, idiot.

The idiot part seemed unnecessary, but it is kind of his fault for asking a billion times.

“We have talked about this, Steven.”

“That’s not even my name.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” Robin says. “I’m not going.”

“But maybe you could meet a cute girl or something! I’m sure if we told your mom my parents will be there—“

“Steve! I. Am not. Going.”

“Going where?”

Steve jumps. He had been so busy begging he hadn’t noticed the door open, even with the bell on it, and somehow Eddie was already right next to him at the counter, leaning over on his elbows. Steve huffs.

“I’m going to Maine for the month,” Steve says, shooting a glare in Robin’s direction, “And someone refuses to go with me!”

“You’ll be fine by yourself,” Robin argued, exasperated, “You’re always by yourself!”

“But it’s boring.”

“I think you can handle boring,” Robin snaps, turning around, “If you need someone to go so bad, ask Eddie!”

Ask Eddie.

Right. How has he forgotten about Eddie?

Steve turns to him, and Eddie immediately straightens, hands up in mock surrender.

“I like ya, Stevie, but alone together for a whole month,” he chatters, nervously, backing away, “We’re basically strangers. We just met, what? A week ago?”

Steve pouts. He puts on his very best puppy dog face. He doesn’t wanna go alone—not this time. It’s fine and productive, sure, but knowing that his parents won’t be there and there’s not even a sliver of a chance of spending quality time with them? He doesn’t wanna be alone.

“Please?”

Eddie blinks. Then, he hangs his head dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.”

“Ha!” Steve cries, pointing a finger at Robin, “You’ve been replaced!”

“Please,” she says, unphased, “You could never replace me.”

She’s, ultimately, correct.

And then, August—

“You wanna do a 16 hour drive in one go?” Steve asks incredulously. Eddie shrugs.

“I mean, why not, man? You take eight, I take eight, and bam, we’re there.”

“Dude, we have an entire month to be down there. Taking a couple days to travel—“

“I hate motels,” Eddie insists, “I sleep in a shithole, but at least I don’t pay to sleep in a shithole.”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at that, despite how it’s mostly sad.

“Your uncle pays to sleep in a shithole,” he points out.

“Are you calling my home a shithole?”

“Eddie—“

“Kidding… I’ve gotta tell you something before we commit to this.”

“What? You snore?”

“I’m gay.”

Steve frowns, and glances over. They’re sitting together on his couch, almost an entire cushion apart, which is weird, but Steve supposes it’s comforting for Eddie in this moment of vulnerability. He looks awfully pretty today, in his sweatpants and baggy band t-shirt.

Steve is totally confident in his sexuality. He can totally, casually think his friend is pretty.

“And that’s important… why?”

Eddie is clearly surprised by this response. He opens his mouth to explain himself, and then closes it, and then matches Steve’s frown.

“You don’t care?”

“No,” Steve says—he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He might have in high school, but he has changed. Extensively. He thinks about telling Eddie Robin is also gay, but realizes before he does that’s probably rude and also a breach of privacy.

“Oh.”

There’s a brief awkward silence.

“So… what’s that like, anyway?” Eddie giggles a little and then bursts into full laughter. Steve should be offended because he’s being laughed at, but he can’t help but grin along with it, anyway.

“Hey—I’m just curious!”

“Curious!” Eddie repeats, giggling up another storm. Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“God forbid a guy try learn something—“

“No, no,” Eddie breathes, putting a hand on Steve’s knee. Something jolts through his spine like lightning.

Woah.

“It’s just such a stupid question.”

“Ouch?”

“You know how you like girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I like guys. That’s it. You’ve got the hots for the Leia Organa’s of the world, and I’ve got it for the Luke Skywalkers.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“The Luke Skywalkers? The goody-two shoes golden boys?”

“You’ve got a problem with my type?”

“No,” Steve says quickly, hoping not to appear judgemental, “I just thought—you just seem like more of a “bad boy” kinda guy.”

“Maybe I am,” he teases, “Maybe I like to do a little corrupting, first.”

Steve swallows hard. Eddie’s tone takes him totally off-guard—all low and suggestive. And the smile he’s wearing is so cocky. Steve should be used to this, as Eddie is often a cocky, theatrical bastard, but when it’s directed straight at him talking about “corrupting good boys” it’s just… a lot.

He doesn’t stop to think about why that might be a lot—just accepts that it is.

“Just kidding,” Eddie says. Then, “I really do just like nice guys.”

Nice guys like me? Steve wants to ask.

“Noted,” he says instead. He’s not sure which one of those was worse. “So. I take it you’re not backing down on the 16 hour drive?”

“No, sir.”

“Do not call me sir.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Jesus Christ, maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Too bad,” Eddie sing-songs, “You’re stuck with me.”

They actually do make the trip all in one go, much to Steve’s surprise. 8 hours and 8 hours isn’t totally awful when you’ve got someone to talk to (or occasionally glance at while they sleep, fighting the feeling you get when you realize just how pretty and peaceful they look).

Yeah, it’s not terrible.

“Holy. Shit,” Eddie says when they finally make it. It’s coming up on three in the morning, but Steve isn’t even remotely tired. He’s too excited to be back, happy to finally be out of the car and far, far away from the town they came from. “It’s on the beach?”

“Oh—did I not—“

“We’re going swimming. Right now.”

“We can’t right now.”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Sharks,” Steve says, putting the car in park in the driveway and popping open his door, “But there’s a pool.”

Eddie looks over at him, incredulous.

“Why would you have a pool right next to the entire fucking ocean?”

Steve grins— “For when you want to swim at 3 in the morning and not get eaten by sharks, duh.”

Eddie pops the handle and kicks open his door which is something he has been consistently doing for the last 16 hours, and Steve cringes every single time. He also doesn’t bother going for their bags—just bee-lines for the front door, Steve hot on his heels, fumbling around in his pockets for the keys.

“Holiday House?” Eddie asks as Steve steps past him. A fancy metal name-plate with those very words rests below the number on the door.

“My parents name all their properties,” Steve says as he fumbles around. This lock has always been a little fidgety, but he hasn’t had the heart to fix it. It’s too nostalgic to jiggle the handle the way his father used to while his mother told him all the fun things they had planned for the month of August.

That feels like forever ago.

“They have an apartment in New York called The Skyline and a flat in London called Elton.”

After Elton John, who Steve’s dad often called ‘the piano fairy.’ Steve’s pretty sure Eddie wouldn’t enjoy that bit of information, though.

“What’s the one in Hawkin’s called?”

Steve finally gets it. The door swings open into the hall and he steps over the threshold. The windows need to be opened and the shelves need dusted—it’s stuffy.

“The Kid,” he answers quickky, hoping to avoid any further conversation about that. He flicks on the lights in the hallway, and heads straight for the windows and blinds and curtains as Eddie shuts the door behind him and follows slowly, taking it all in—the foyer, the great room, the sun room, the dining room, the kitchen.

Unlike Steve’s house, the place has a more “lived in” feeling, with soft rugs thrown over the hardwood, fabric couches with throw pillows and blankets, and little trinkets lining the walls. There’s family photos, his mother’s art, awards won by his father, candles, memorabilia. It’s still grand, and boasting wealth—

But it’s still cozy, with white and blue tones and more windows than were probably necessary and a lofted upstairs that opens into the main area so it never feels like you’re truly away from everyone else.

Steve loves it here.

“This is insane,” Eddie says, plopping down on the couch. Steve feels himself being watched as he begins opening windows, running his hands along the sills to wipe away some of the dust before he breaks out an actual duster tomorrow.

Later today, actually.

“Welcome,” Steve says, “You’ve got a month to get used to it.”

“I’ll never get used to this,” Eddie says, breathless. Steve turns to look at him, all wide-eyed and awestruck by a house that, for Steve, is just house. A house full of good memories and comfort, but still just a house.

Eddie looks like he’s seeing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel for the first time.

Steve kind of wishes it was his first time coming here. He wishes he knew what Eddie was feeling in some way.

He wishes he could forget what this used to be for him.

“You gonna swim?” Steve asks, turning back to the windows. Eventually, he reaches the curtain pulled over the sliding glass door, pulls it away, and reaches for the outdoor lights. “Hopefully these—“

The pool, patio, and steps to the beach spring to life in warm light. Steve’s happy to see none of the string lights have fallen or broken—those were a new addition last summer and he’s actually quite fond of them.

“Are you?”

Steve hums, considering it.

Why not?

“Yeah, sure. Just let me get these open, first.”

Eddie moves past him, and at first, Steve’s unbothered at the notion of Eddie swimming out there while he’s opening windows and turning on lights in here, but then pale skin catches his eye—

He’s captivated.

Eddie’s just… taken off his clothes, fully stripped down to his boxers, and Steve probably should’ve assumed that’s what he was going to do, but it didn’t even cross his mind until it had already happened. Eddie’s standing at the edge of the pool, tying his hair back behind his head.

Oh wow.

Steve’s done a very good job of pushing it down, but this is the last straw. It floods over him, just how hot Eddie is, and sets his heart into a full race—

You like him.

You think he’s cute.

You like boys.

You like girls and boys.

But you like boys.

You like Eddie, who you’ve invited to spend an entire month in a house with you alone.

You’re screwed.

Fucked.

Ruined.

Steve only feels the tears on his face after they’ve fallen. He takes a shaky breath and wipes them away, because how stupid to be crying over this? He knows better—he’s past the point of thinking it’s wrong or unnatural, Robin made damn sure of that.

But now he’s… now he’s stuck here with Eddie. And he likes him. And he can’t have him, because how would that even work? Logistically, they can’t date in Hawkins, they can’t get married—

God, who’s even thinking about getting married? They’re nineteen and twenty!

Steve. Steve’s thinking about getting married.

But who’s to say his feelings are requited? No one. And he shouldn’t just assume because Eddie’s gay that he automatically has a shot. He’s probably the exact opposite of—

I really do just like nice guys.

Is Steve a nice guy? Lately, yes. Before? No. And does Eddie think of him as Old Steve or New Steve? King Steve or Babysitter Steve? Who’s to say?

Why is he even getting worked up. Why doesn’t he just open these windows and go outside and get in the pool? Just be normal. He should just be normal. And he should ignore all this, because it’s too much to deal with right now, at the beginning of his vacation.

Their vacation.

The last thing he’s gonna do is ruin Eddie’s vacation by having a crush on him—god, a crush? This can’t be happening.

The universe fucking hates him

Steve finishes with the windows and heads outside. Eddie’s already in the pool, and he looks downright blissful, floating around running his hands over the water like he can’t believe it’s real.

When’s the last time he went swimming?

“Don’t pee in there, or anything,” Steve says, which is stupid but he’s flustered and he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what— “Because then I’ll have to drain it and no more night time swimming, unless you’re risking the sharks.”

Eddie scoffs, turning to face him, “Steve, why the fuck would I piss in your pool?”

Fair question. Steve’s cheeks burn.

“I don’t know!”

“Too late, anyway. I already did.”

Steve, in the middle of unbuttoning his jeans, freezes.

“Are you—“

“No, I’m not serious,” Eddie laughs, coming up to the edge and dropping his chin onto his arms, grinning up at him.

It’s beautiful. And blinding. But mostly beautiful.

“You really need to figure out jokes, Harrington.”

“Maybe you’re just bad at making them.”

“That,” Eddie says, “Is not possible.”

There’s something in his voice as Steve pulls his pants over his feet that nearly knocks him off balance. Something… breathy and… Steve’s not sure. Just something, something more than teasing. Steve wants to believe it’s because he’s seeing Steve almost naked for the first time, but he’s afraid to read that far into it.

If he does, he’ll never make it in the water.

“Is it cold?” he asks, carefully sitting himself down on the edge.

“No,” Eddie replies, so Steve sinks his feet into it, and Eddie’s right. It’s a nice temperature, probably from the sun. “Is it always full?”

“No—somebody filled it last week,” Steve answers, kicking his feet a little. The water’s nice, Eddie’s nice, the warm summer air is nice.

He’s feeling a little too nice, actually.

“Are you gonna come all the way in, your highness?”

It’s Steve’s turn to scoff, then— “Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.” Eddie pushes away from the wall, and good thing, too, because he’s too busy floating away to see Steve malfunction at the insinuation. Insinuation? Maybe Eddie wasn’t insinuating anything—he has a tendency to be a bit of a drama queen.

Maybe it’s nothing at all. It’s probably nothing at all.

Steve pushes himself off the edge and into the water.

“Fuck,” he groans. He hasn’t swam in awhile, either, he realizes, and the wet feels nice and relaxing around all his limbs. Eddie is spinning in languid circles, trailing his arms through the water. He looks ridiculous, but Steve’s only thinking—

Cute.

“We have to get groceries tomorrow,” Steve says, an effort to keep a conversation going. He can’t help himself. He wants to keep talking to Eddie—it’s been like this since he’s met him.

Eddie’s just so good to talk to.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, “You gonna cook for me, big boy?”

Steve burns. Even hotter.

“Unless you wanna waste all your money on takeout,” Steve confirms.

“Tempting,” Eddie replies, which is like him. If Steve’s learned anything about Eddie in the past 12 days, it’s that he loves Chinese food, and he’s very good at convincing Steve to get him some.

Or maybe Steve is just very eager to please him.

“And we should probably check if we have toilet paper, sunscreen—and wash our sheetd, even though I—“

Steve is cut off abruptly by a wall water smacking him in the face, getting in his mouth and up his nose. He coughs, sputters, wiping himself off and mourning the loss of what had been a really good hair day.

“You’re so—“

Steve’s turn. He splashes Eddie back, and from there it’s an all out war. Steve hasn’t been in a splash fight in a swimming pool with anyone in probably a decade, and here he is, barely breathing, laughing uncontrollably, shouting unintelligible nothings until Eddie’s seizing both his wrists and lifting them above his head—

“You lose.”

“Yeah, right.” Steve wrenches easily from his grasp and tackles him in the water, initiating some form of wrestling until Eddie's pinned to the wall, arm twisted (as gently as the angle will allow) behind his back, both of them wheezing for air.

“Asshole!” Eddie gasps.

“You started it,” Steve snaps back.

“Ow—let me go—“ Steve does as he’s told. The last thing he wants to do is—

Oh.

When Eddie turns, they’re practically nose to nose. Steve’s breath blows out of his lungs like it doesn’t belong there, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes on Eddie’s eyes—it’s too intense.

Fingers brush over the side of his face.

This can’t be happening.

“Is this okay?” Eddie whispers.

More than okay. Perfect. Kiss me. Fuck me. Have me. Marry me.

“I—uh—yeah, yes. Please—“

Eddie silences him finally with his mouth. Steve’s eyes flutter closed—the boy tastes like pool water, spit, and morning breath, but Steve could honestly care less. He melts into the kiss, pressing into Eddie as closely as he’s afforded.

Until Eddie pulls away from him.

“Two things,” the metal-head says, breathless, but firm, “One—I refuse to be the thing that ruins your life.”

Ruin his—what does that—?

“Two—wait a week. If you still want me for the rest of August, I’m yours.”

Eddie pulls out of his grasp.

Now, today, July 18th, 1986, Steve knows in this moment, he should have snatched Eddie back and told him all sorts of things—

You won’t ruin my life.

We could be good.

I’m not waiting for you, I want you now.

Let’s do this.

But then, in the small hours of August 2nd, 1985, Steve could barely breathe, let alone think, and as he watched Eddie push himself out of the pool, boxers clinging to his ass and thighs, hair tied up and dripping, smooth skin and more smooth skin and so much skin, all he could think was that September 1st was an eternity away.

And he would take what he could get.

End Part 1

(Next Part)

[shipskicksandgiggles]

I’m sending you this in an attempt to get my writing brain going. This idea just came to me like five minutes ago and is poorly thought out but here we go!

It’s the Fourth of July and Steve is hosting a party at his house for all his kids and the rest of their friend group. Everyone had shown up relatively on time except for Eddie. Steve had expected the metal head to be late since he’d protested the idea of celebrating patriotic capitalist ideals the minute that Steve had told him about the party. So when the phone finally rang almost two and half hours into the party, Steve was expecting it to be Eddie calling to make some bull shit excuse about why he couldn’t make it.

Steve had not been expecting Wayne to be on the other line. Steve’s heart felt like it had stopped dead in his chest and like his stomach had dropped down to his feet as he listened to Wayne explain that some of the jocks from high school had apparently come up with a plan to burn down the trailer and stage the scene like a firework mishap.

Eddie had caught them in the act but hadn’t been able to hold his own against Jason’s stupid gang of jocks. They had apparently beaten Eddie to a pulp and tossed him just inside the trailer before starting a fire and booking it out of there.

Wayne explained that he’d been awoken by the smell of smoke, Steve had not been happy to find out that their fire alarms had apparently been broken for some time and neither Wayne nor Eddie had the spare cash to buy new ones but that was beyond the point right now. Wayne had woken up just in time to rescue his bloodied and bruised nephew before the fire could do any real damage. However, Eddie had been close to the point of ignition and had sustained some minor burns to go along with his other injuries.

Wayne had apparently gotten Eddie to the hospital as soon as possible and wasn’t sure what state that the trailer would be in when they got back. He knew that his neighbors had been trying to put the fire out as he hurried to get his nephew help but who knew how much of the trailer as well as their belongings had been damaged…

But anyway so yeah that’s all I got. Just imaging Steve being pissed and worried all at the same time and he immediately invited Wayne and Eddie to stay with him and he nurses Eddie back to health etc. as usual I didn’t proof read this so hopefully it’s legible lol

oh wow I love this. if I was in any state to get up and get my computer, I’d be half way to writing this into a fic where Steve uses the experience as inspiration to become an EMT, because the Fourth of July is one of the more dangerous holidays out there, and he wants to be able to prevent anyone else from getting hurt like Eddie did

he’d take to it like a fish to water, and now when Eddie goes on his anti-patriot spiel, Steve just kisses his head and agrees, because he works with real heroes every day who aren’t nearly as recognized as they should be given the lives they save

[lazywitchling]

Alright, I’ve just finished Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller.

Summary:

8/10 if I can ignore the author

7/10 if I can’t

So here’s the thing. I have come out of this book with a deep distaste for this guy. He just… oof, there are times that he just reads like a twitter tech bro who, within ten minutes of meeting him, will tell you all of the famous people who follow him on twitter. There’s just something about the constant name-dropping of Super Cool and Edgy spirits that just got on my nerves to no end. Like, buddy, can I get some more examples of you working with local no-name spirits in your area? Spirits that are just a lil guy? Or do they ALL have to be big name demons from ancient grimoires and cryptids from local legends and shit?

Also, yeah there’s too many times where he’s… maybe not always outright saying, but definitely heavily implying that closed cultures can be yours to take from if you really really really want to. I don’t love that.

AND chapter 2 definitely opens with a little example story of how Dave Chapelle’s Netflix comedy special is a case of people just ~*~*not understanding a joke and being too sensitive*~*~ and HELLO SIR????????

(He doesn’t specifically say it’s that comedy special, but check the timeline of writing vs that comedy special. It’s 100% what it is.)

So. Yeah. I’d love to meet this guy so I can throw a drink in his face.

THAT BEING SAID.

I am so annoyed to say that as much as I hated this guy, that’s how much I loved the book.

UGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Friggin’… out here like goddamned Dabbler’s Guide to Witchcraft. WILL YOU PLEASE LET ME HATE YOUR BOOK?? I WANT TO!

But no, it’s actually a pretty good one. Best ever? Nah. But good. I am definitely better for having read it, and it gave me a lot of stuff to think about. There’s a section about how you *can’t* be bad at meditating, and it just… [chef kiss]. It was a really good section and I’m very glad to have read it.

Some of the criticisms I’ve heard of this book is that if you’re not interested in working with Hekate, St Cyprian, or Astaroth, then this book isn’t going to be very useful. And I can see what they mean, because they make up the bulk of the examples in the book. You’d think they were the only entities out there to work with. But though Jason isn’t always the best about saying it, the Hekate/Cyprian/Astaroth rituals are supposed to be examples of how to structure your own thing to fit the entities you work with.

There’s good, practical advice about working with and communicating with spirits, and it’s stuff you can actually put into practice. Additionally, I don’t recall him having any real “You need to buy this fancy thing!” stuff in there, which is nice. Even the anti-capitalist witch books I’ve read have had SOME kind of consumer element to them.

He says that this should not be your first witch book, and I (sort of) agree. This isn’t a basic-witchcraft text, so you should know how to put together some basic protection, do some divination, etc. There’s a good quote in chapter 7 that says “If every book has to contain every possible preliminary and protection, then there will never be room for the substance of the book itself.” I LOVE that. I’ve read too many books that are supposed to be about some specialty, but they spend so long rehashing the basics that they barely even touch on the thing the book is supposed to be about.

That being said, while I wouldn’t consider this a Basic Witchcraft book, I would consider it a Basic Spirit Work book. If you know what you’re doing and you consider yourself a spirit worker, I don’t know that you’ll really get anything much out of this book. If you want to learn to be a spirit worker, though, this one has enough foundational things in it to get you started, imo.

(This is the part where I usually link you to the book in the Portland Button Works shop, because I want you to buy things from Alex, but I don’t see the book there anymore? idk if it’s gone gone or if it’ll restock. Anyway. Support your local bookstore, support witches with indie bookstores, etc.)

[the-roo-too]

cupid -> schoolmate! kim jiwoo

-your favourite genre was always romance. you loved the books from a very particular bookshop. the owner’s granddaughter always disliked romance books. she liked seeing you in the bookstore though.

warnings: y/n being very obvious; mamamoo are b e t t i n g

genre: fluff!

notes: plot idea goes to @cfvgbhndun-new-blog 🫶 i don’t think i’ve actually seen someone write for jiwoo?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

jiwoo always thought it was kind of stupid of you. while she herself wasn’t a romance fan, she could easily recognise the titles you’ve been reading- all of them were sappy love stories. and you could live out your romance dream, if you’d ever take your nose out of the book and see her standing there.

she’s told this to her grandma. said woman laughed at jiwoo for eight minutes straight (she counted) and said she wouldn’t even be able to woman up and ask you out, even if you noticed her.

jiwoo also told this to kyujin, who should have her side as she’s the older one. the younger laughed almost as hard as the grandma. that was the moment jiwoo stopped coming to older and younger people for advice.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

“i bet you 5 bucks they’ll end up together.” the teacher said, slamming the money on the desk. the other three women in the room looked up at her weirded out.

“yongsun? did you forget your meds again?” one of them asked teasingly.

“yah! you’re almost the same age, byul!” yongsun whined at the younger woman, at which the trio bursted into giggles.

“we get it, unnie. but what were you saying? who are we betting on?” the youngest out of the bunch asked. yongsun rolled her eyes playfully and gestured the outside with her head.

there, on the hallway, they could see a pretty usual sigh. a couple kids running, someone carrying some lunch, and of course y/n l/n with her nose buried in a book. not far behind her, kim jiwoo was also following like a kicked puppy.

“oh, you mean the jiwo/n situation?” byul asked before laughing. “i don’t really think she’ll confess. l/n is too obvious and kim is very scared of rejection.”

“nah, don’t judge her like that! jiwoo is my top student, she’s very brave.” insisted yongsun.

“yeah, brave enough to listen to you banter about literature for hours!”

“shut up, wheein!”

“yongsun unnie, i add 5 bucks jiwoo will confess but l/n won’t recognise her.” the youngest added, putting her money on the desk.

“good one, hyejin. 5 bucks she just won’t confess.” wheein pat hyejin’s arm and added her money to the pile.

“y’all don’t have faith in them!”

“you have too much faith, yongsun. 5 bucks she’s gonna confess.”

“didn’t you say i have too much faith?”

“confessing isn’t the same thing as dating!”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

“so, how’s it going with that girl you told me about?”

“grandma!” jiwoo whined at her elder and stopped putting the books on the shelves.

“what? i’m just asking! you’ve been talking about this girl nonstop for the past couple weeks…” the girl glared at her grandma.

“that’s so not true!”

“you begged me to move the romance section closer to the counter so you could see her.” jiwoo tried to think of a comeback but the smirk on her grandma’s face made her quiet and pouty. “okay, jiwoo-ya. go open the shop.”

the girl sighed and did as she was asked. maybe she’d get to see you come into the shop today.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

you sat in your favourite bookshop. it was your favourite because of the cozy atmosphere, and how nice the owner was, and how many different romances you could get there.

it was hard to say actually why you liked romance so much. maybe you wanted to experience something like that in real life.

satisfied with a plot summary you just read on one of the books, you took it to the counter. the girl that stood there seemed awfully familiar, but it might have been because you visit the shop at least a couple times a month.

“hi, what can i help you with today?” the girl smiled sweetly at you.

“i wanted to buy this book.” you handed her the piece and started digging your bag for your wallet.

“sure, let me get that checked-“

“no no no- oh god, i am so sorry.” a mortified expression appeared on your face. “i think i forgot my wallet at home.”

“oh no, i am sorry to hear that. would you like me to-“

“agh, i’ve gotta look for it. thank you and i’m really sorry!” you ran out of the bookshop, missing the look on the girl’s face.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

“bet news!” yongsun ran inside the room panting. “jiwoo brought some romance book! she had it on her desk durning my lesson!”

the other three teachers looked at her sceptically.

“maybe she started reading romance?” the youngest suggested.

“no, that can’t be. jiwoo hates romance books.” yongsun nodded along to byul.

“but you know who loves romance?”

“l/n?” wheein scoffed quietly. her bet was practically lost.

“l/n! she’s gonna confess, i’m sure of it!”

“maybe l/n won’t recognise her…”

“hyejin don’t wish bad for people.”

“i wish for my money to come back!”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

kim jiwoo. you finally pieced the face to a name. before miss kim’s class, you saw her walking with the book you almost bought. on one hand, you were sad she bought it because now you couldn’t, but on the other, you could talk with her now! maybe she liked the same authors as you? she did work in a bookshop, she probably loved books as much as you.

just as you were packing your bag. the mentioned girl approached you. “hi, y/n!”

“oh, hello jiwoo.”

“you know my name?” she seemed really surprised, making you giggle.

“yeah, you’re just before me on the list.” your gaze fell to the book in her hands. for a second, you wondered why didn’t she put it in her bag, but carried in around like that. “you like romance too?”

“um, not necessarily. i don’t know if you remember but you wanted to buy that book but you forgot-“

“oh god that was so embarrassing.”

“so i bought it for you!” she smiled brightly and handed you the book.

“what?” you had to do a double take, looking at the girl in front of you, then at the book, and back at jiwoo.

“i figured you really wanted it and it gave me the chance to talk to you.”

“oh jiwoo, i can’t just- can i repay you somehow?”

“i know you don’t really know me, but i really like you. could you go out with me, and maybe it blooms into something more?”

the book fell from your hands. that seemed almost like a scene you read in a book. “sure.”

jiwoo let out the cutest giggle ever and you thought you’d melt on the spot.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

wheein and hyejin grumbled in dissatisfaction. both lost the bet, now it was a fight between yongsun and byul.

“she confessed but they hadn’t started dating!”

“they just went on their first date! i’m sure they will after this!”

“isn’t this weird we’re four teachers spying on two of our students?” wheein asked, sipping her coffee. the four of them were trying to blend in the coffee shop where l/n and kim were on their first date.

“shut up wheein!” said yongsun. she then glanced at the two lovebirds and squealed excitedly. “guys they kissed!”

“what?”

“pay up byul!”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

“are we going to talk about how our teachers are spying on us?”

“not really. would you like to go on a date on thursday too?”

“sure!”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐶ

[angelbaby-fics]

Christmas Music

Pairing: CG!Eddie x Little!Reader

Word Count: 710

A/N: After going back and forth with myself I decided I like the fic the way it is & I don't need to change it into headcanons 😅😁 I feel bad because all my Eddie fics tend to be on the shorter side and I think it's just because 9 times out of 10 I'm fully Stuck-brained so when I write Eddie I have to think about it more instead of the plot just coming straight from my daydreams lol 😅 Maybe I ought to rewatch season 4 for inspiration anyways I hope you guys enjoy and happy December!!! 💕❄️💕

You’d been napping in Eddie’s bed all afternoon, exhausted from school and your part time job. Eddie knew that naps were the easiest way to put you in your little headspace, so he was more than happy to let you hog his bed. Besides, this nap would be the perfect opportunity for him to work on your little holiday surprise. Once he was sure you were sleeping peacefully, Eddie quietly crawled out of the bed without disturbing you, grabbing his guitar from its mount on the wall, and snuck into the living room, leaving the bedroom door open just a crack, just in case. 

It was time to get to work. Eddie had been setting aside a portion of his tips from the Hideout to buy a book of Christmas sheet music for the guitar from the local music store. He knew how much you loved the holidays, and he wanted to be able to accompany you on all your favorite songs. Being the perfectionist he was, he didn’t want to reveal his plan to you until he was absolutely flawless at every song in the book. It was rare to get a moment by himself since he was usually glued to your side, so for once he was glad you were so sleepy.

Settling down on the ratty couch, Eddie propped the sheet music book against a cushion and positioned his guitar on his lap. Opening the book to your favorite song, he started learning the music, effortlessly reading the notes and translating them to the guitar. His fingers moved across the strings in a way that was already second nature to him, every wrong note played was effortlessly corrected within a second, the tiny flaws and mistakes noticeable to Eddie and only Eddie. The notes carried out across the trailer, through the cramped hallway and into his slightly open door. 

The music made its way into your dreams, swirling around your sleepy little head until you were pulled out of slumber and back into the real world. You recognized it immediately, one of your favorite holiday classics. You sat up immediately, all remnants of sleep immediately shaken off by the excitement of hearing one of your favorite songs. You didn’t know where the music was coming from, and, determined to find the source, you hopped off of the bed and padded out into the main room of the trailer, dragging the blanket around your shoulders. Eddie didn’t even look up, he was so focused on playing the song perfectly. You sat in front of him on the floor, so as not to disturb him, and when he finished playing you started to clap.

“Oh! Baby, I didn’t know you were up!” Eddie said with wide eyes and a soft smile.

“I heard my song.” You whispered. 

“Did I wake you, baby?”

He did, but you knew he’d beat himself up over it if he thought he’d disturb you in any way, so you shook your head.

“Pretty music, dada.” You blushed.

“Yeah? I’m still learning, so it’s not that good yet.” “I thought it was perfect.”

“Well that’s because you’re my number one fan, aren’t you, my little hellraiser?” You giggled and hid your face in your blanket, but peeked back out when you felt a calloused hand brush your cheek. 

“Wanna come up here and help me learn, gumdrop?” Eddie asked, patting the couch cushion beside him.

You nodded and scrambled up, blanket still enveloping you as you settled next to Eddie, as close to him as you could be without getting between him and the guitar. He pointed to the open song book.

“Okay, see the words there, baby?” 

You nodded.

“Follow along with me, alright?”

And he began to play again, the festive song you knew so well. You’d had the words memorized for as long as you could remember, but you still kept your eyes trained on the page, dutifully following Eddie’s instruction. Every now and then, however, you stole a glance up at him, eyes practically heart shaped as he played your favorite tune. You didn’t know it, but every time you turned your gaze back to the book, Eddie was looking back at you with just as much love in his eyes.