#one out for the slurpee brain

[lovebugism]

Heat wave with Eddie and he's watching you on the other side of the couch and he wants you so bad but it's so hotttt

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where you and eddie try to make the most of the heatwave (established relationship, implications of smut, 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Metal heads hate summer. It’s an unspoken fact. Wild hair, leather jackets, and denim jeans don’t fare well in the heat.

And while there were many bonuses to the warmer season — the music, the ice cream, and you in a bikini to name a few — it didn’t quell Eddie’s personal vendetta with summer. Or rather, summer’s personal vendetta with him.

The month of August was hardly more than an incessant heatwave. One hundred-degree heat, statewide. Without a cool breeze to fill the seasonal silence, there was nothing but a low sizzling sound — like burgers cooking on a grill. The two of you got into his van for a Slurpee run one simmering afternoon and suffered second-degree burns from the pleather cushions and metal seatbelts in the process.

It was miserable. Eddie was far too pale and he liked the color black far too much to find any enjoyment in the summer months. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the power goes out. 

And the only thing worse than a power outage during a heatwave is being horny during a power outage during a heatwave.

“The neighbor said there’s outages all over town—” Your voice comes muffled from where you pad around in the kitchen. “—So, we’ll probably be out for a while.”

You return to the living room wearing an old, white-ribbed tank top and a pair of Eddie’s plaid boxers, rolled at the hem to fit you better. You carry two glasses of lemonade in your hands, fogged with the cubes of ice you’d dropped into them before they could melt in the freezer. 

You’re too pretty for your own good. Eddie’s suffocated by the sweltering heat as much as he is by the overwhelming urge to touch you.

“Fuuuck,” he groans in response, sprawled out on the couch across the room. He’s barely moved from that spot all day. He only got up once to tie his hair back and then anxiously pace back and forth for several minutes. A few ornery curls stick to his forehead, damp with sweat. “Should we just, like, get a hotel or something?”

“With what money?” you scoff in place of a laugh.

His scrunched brows go lax. “Oh, yeah…”

“We’ll be okay. It’ll only be out for a couple more hours— at least.”

“Hours?” Eddie whines, all pinched-browed, as you hand him his lemonade.

You scrunch your nose down at the boy with a sympathetic gaze. “Think we can survive that long?”

“I’m withering away as we speak,” he deadpans.

“You’re so dramatic…” you giggle. The unkind words come out coated in a layer of sweet honey. You love him too much for anything else.

You pluck your book from the coffee table and plop down on the other side of the couch. You curl your knees to your chest, not having much room left over from Eddie’s longer legs. 

He’d tried to do the same an hour or more ago. He’d been too bored to read then. All the words melted together because his brain was swimming with heat. He doesn’t know how you’re doing it, honestly. All he knows is he can’t stop looking at you.

You’re a pretty little thing sitting across from him. So much of your skin is on display — arms, collarbones, ankles, and thighs. He wants to kiss every inch of you. He could if it wasn’t so damn hot. Now, all he can do is admire you from a distance and pray the power comes back soon so he can love you all over.

Eddie shifts on the couch for a few moments. He jostles the cushions beneath you as he twists on them, maneuvering so his legs are propped up on the coffee table and he’s slouching against the back of the sofa. 

His underwear rides up his pale thigh. The white undershirt he refuses to take off is damp at the collar with sweat.

You pay little attention to his fidgeting. He’s often restless, but especially when he’s got nothing to do. You feel his sticky fingers curl around your stickier calf a second later. His touch is soft and slow, sweet like syrup, as he smooths his hand up and down the back of your leg. 

You shoot the boy a look from over the top of your book. “You okay, Eds?”

“Other than melting?” he retorts with his head tilted to his shoulder. He shoots you a wide, fatigued grin through his reddened cheeks. “I’m peachy, sweetheart.”

“It’s a little too hot to be touching each other right now, babe,” you advise with your gaze turned back to the book in your lap. He keeps on caressing you, though, and you keep on letting him.

“I know…” he murmurs with a faint pout scrunching his features. His palm squeezes the top of your ankle before rising again. “I just miss you…”

“I’m right here,” you counter with a soft giggle.

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah,” you concede with a sigh. “I know what you mean.”

If you had it your way, Eddie Munson would be touching you all the time. He usually is, anyway — but every second he’s not, it feels like you’re grieving. You’re made restless because of how underwhelmed you are, all grumpy because you’re so sticky with heat. You want so desperately to curl up in Eddie’s arms and hide there forever, but it’s already getting hard to breathe without the AC on. And the sweat’s making your clothes cling to your skin. The thought of physical affection right now makes you feel a bit sick.

He squeezes your calf again, this time to get your attention. 

Your eyes peek at him from over your book. You find his flushed face curled into a tired, yet still mischievous smirk. 

“And, you know, just for the record or whatever,” he lilts quietly with a twinkle in his chocolate syrup eyes. “If it wasn’t a billion degrees in here, I’d totally plow the shit outta you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes go wide at his words.

You might’ve laughed if you weren’t so immediately turned on.

You squeeze your knees together, clenching your thighs in hopes of soothing the ache that begins to pulsate between them. “Wow. That is… very forward of you, Eds.”

“I think the heat’s making me delirious,” he admits with his head tilted back against the couch. His pale, sticky neck is on display for you. You feel the sudden urge to sink your teeth into the milky white tendon there.

“Well, good thing about power outages in the summer — the cold water in the shower feels like heaven,” you tell him, feigning absentmindedness as you flip a page of your novel.

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his damp, curly bangs. He grins with a newfound light in his eyes. “Ooh,” he singsongs. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

“I have… three more pages left in this chapter,” you tell the boy after flicking through the book. You shoot him a glance beneath your lashes — less obvious in your mischievous disposition but still sparkling with it anyway. You knock his thigh with your foot. “Go get undressed, loverboy.”

Your words bring him back to life. 

He surges with an energy he lost sometime between the late spring and early summer as he leaps off the couch. He nearly trips over the coffee table on his journey to the bathroom. His hurried footsteps stomp, stomp, stomp down the hallway.

You hear the shower faucet hiss on from a distance. It’s music to your ears. You know you’ll be in there all day — or, at least, until the power comes back on. You’re left suddenly hoping it won’t come on for another good while yet.

Not until Eddie makes you forget your name against the shower wall.

[misaerabl]

Dead Girl Walking

(You do not need to watch Heathers to read this!) Ellie as JD and Reader as Veronica

Minors and Men DNI / Word Count: 9.4k words

SUMMARY: You just made the biggest mistake of your high school life: crossing the most popular girl in school. She was supposed to be your friend, but even you couldn’t ignore her ruthless, queen-bee ways. The fallout is inevitable—she’ll not only banish you from the social circle but will likely make your life an endless nightmare. Or worse, she might make you regret you ever dared to challenge her. Knowing that your time in this school, and maybe your life, is running on borrowed hours, you decide to do the unthinkable: live like you’ve got nothing left to lose. You’ve got 30 hours to squeeze every moment out of life before the storm hits, and there’s only one person you can imagine going to—Ellie. Something about her defiance, the way she breaks the rules but still outsmarts everyone, draws you in. If this is your last day, you’re going to spend it doing what you want, consequences be damned.

WARNINGS: the characters are fucking insane, fingering, use of those strap-ons where it's double-edged, referring to strap-on as cock and dick, slapping, aggressive sex, mentions of self-harm and suicide, murder, toxic characters!

A/N: you don’t really need to watch Heathers for these to make sense, but it does take place in the Heathers universe so it does help if you've watched/know heathers! Also to all the Heathers fans, this isn’t like on the dot completely the same as Heathers, of course. 

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The thump of the bass pulsed through Heather’s car as she sped down the dimly lit road. The night felt electric, charged with the promise of the unexpected. You leaned against the window, the cool air biting at your skin as Heather drummed her fingers to the beat, impatient as always.

A sharp turn of the wheel, and the car slid smoothly into a 7/11 parking spot. Heather didn’t look at you as she pushed a crisp hundred-dollar bill into your hand.

“Don’t take forever,” she said, her tone laced with irritation. “And get the sour cream and onion chips.”

You slipped out of the car, the chill of the night settling around you as you made your way into the brightly lit store. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in an artificial glow. As you grabbed the chips, your gaze drifted toward the register—and that’s when you saw her.

Ellie was there, leaning casually with a cherry-red Slurpee in hand, her eyes glancing lazily around the store. She was a walking contradiction—messy auburn hair in a half-up, half-down style, clothes that screamed rebellion, yet a calm confidence that belonged to someone who could take on the world. When her eyes met yours, her lips curved into a knowing smirk.

“Hey, Miss Ivy League,” she drawled, her voice a slow, teasing melody.

You felt a grin tug at your lips, despite yourself. “Ellie.” The way her name rolled off your tongue felt familiar and electric, like a spark you hadn’t known you’d been carrying.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

She took a slow sip of her Slurpee, the straw making a low, gurgling sound before she replied. “What, you think I only haunt alleyways and dive bars?” She quirked an eyebrow, the playfulness in her tone offset by something deeper. “Nah, 7/11s are where it’s at.”

You tilted your head, leaning into the banter. “Yeah? What’s so special about neon lights and convenience store hot dogs?”

Ellie chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Consistency. You know, no matter how messed up life gets, there’s always a 7/11 open at 2 a.m. A place that doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t judge.” She lifted her cup, swirling the ice around. “A brain-freeze that reminds you you're still alive, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

The way she said it, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, made the moment heavy. For a second, it felt like she was letting you peek behind the armor, at the girl who needed the chaos to feel normal.

Before you could reply, Heather’s shout cut through the air. “Hey! I said move it!”

Ellie’s eyes flicked to Heather, and her smirk returned, more mischievous this time. She took another sip, then set the Slurpee down with an exaggerated flourish.

“Remember, Ivy League,” she said, her voice softening, “when the world tries to break you, sometimes you’ve gotta freeze your brain, just to feel something.” Her gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer, her expression almost wistful. “Build walls, but don’t let them lock you in.”

She pushed off the counter, slipping out into the night with the ease of someone who didn’t quite belong anywhere—and liked it that way. The glass door swung shut, leaving you standing there, chips in hand, with her words echoing in your head like the last note of a song.

As you made your way back to Heather’s car, the cold night felt sharper, the air humming with a feeling you couldn’t quite place.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The party at Heather Chandler’s house is blindingly vibrant, neon lights casting deep shadows across the crowded living room. The air buzzes with music and gossip, a mix potent enough to make you feel on edge. You stick to the periphery, watching as Heather Chandler moves through her domain like a queen inspecting her court. Every smile she flashes is calculated, every tilt of her head a silent command.

Then you notice her—Emily Tran, a girl from your AP History class. She’s standing near the snack table, looking uncomfortable, eyes darting around like she doesn’t belong. You remember how she once lent you her notes when you were out sick for a week, her quiet kindness making a rough time a little easier.

Heather Chandler sweeps over, her entourage in tow, McNamara and Duke smirking behind her. Heather’s voice cuts through the chatter, sharp and loud. “Oh, look who decided to show her face here. Did you get lost on your way to the library?” she sneers, the words dripping with mockery. The girls around her laugh, the sound cruel and high-pitched.

Emily’s face flushes, eyes dropping to the floor as she tries to shrink into herself. Something inside you snaps. The sickly sweetness of Chandler’s dominance, her candy-coated cruelty—it’s too much. You step forward, voice clear. “Back off, Chandler,” you say, loud enough for those around to hear. The conversations falter, whispers bubbling up in their place.

Heather Chandler’s eyes snap to yours, narrowing into slits as the music’s beat pulses around you. “Excuse me?” she says, voice cutting through the tension. “Did you just tell me what to do?” The room collectively holds its breath, eyes darting between you and the queen bee.

“Yeah, I did,” you reply, swallowing the fear climbing up your throat. “You don’t get to treat people like that.”

Heather smirks, but there’s no humor in it. Her smile is hard, saccharine, like she’s gearing up to chew you up and spit you out. “Oh, look at you, little hero. Have you forgotten who made you into this? You’ve come so far, clawed your way into my circle, and now you’re turning on me?” Her voice lifts on the last word, as if she can’t believe you would dare.

The crowd gasps, a collective inhale that adds to the pounding in your chest. Heather Duke’s grin widens, enjoying the spectacle, while McNamara looks on with a raised eyebrow, more amused than shocked.

“Do you really think you can play in my world and come out clean?” Heather taunts, louder now, making sure everyone hears. “Because if you think this is over, you’re wrong.”

The room watches, anticipation crackling in the air. Emily’s wide eyes meet yours for a moment, gratitude and worry mixing together.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say, even if your voice trembles at the edges.

Heather lets out a sharp, cold laugh. “Well, you should be,” she whispers, leaning in close enough that only you hear. “Because once I’m done, no one will remember your name.”

With a wave of her hand, she turns away, leaving you standing there, breathless and shaken. The crowd splits to let her pass, the music picking back up as if nothing happened. People shoot you looks—some impressed, some sympathetic, but most afraid to even acknowledge what just unfolded.

The adrenaline only carries you so far. You push your way out of the suffocating room, past curious eyes and muffled whispers, until the cool night air hits your face. Your heart is a drum, thundering in your chest as you move down the dark, empty street, the confrontation replaying over and over.

You didn’t think. You didn’t plan. Your feet moved on their own, driven by the panic coursing through your veins. The fight with Heather left a gnawing emptiness in your chest, every harsh word, every sidelong glance, looping over and over in your mind. Thirty hours till Monday, till consequences came crashing down. You couldn’t tell if your life was over metaphorically or if you were teetering on the edge of something far worse.

But Ellie. She was the one person who made things make sense, who managed to pull you back from the spiraling mess your mind created. You didn't know what you expected from going to her house—comfort, distraction, maybe just to see a face that didn’t make you feel like the world was caving in.

As you stumbled into her neighborhood, the streetlights casting pale glows on the pavement, your eyes caught the lone tree leaning against the side of her house. You didn’t know why you chose to climb it, only that the ache in your chest wouldn’t let you just walk up to the front door. You scrambled up, bark scraping your palms, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just you and the rush of adrenaline. Each foothold, each rough branch digging into your skin felt grounding, tangible, and real.

At the top, you hovered by her window, the realization of what you’d done crashing in. You knocked softly, heart racing. The sheer absurdity of it all struck you; you hadn’t been to Ellie’s house before, hadn’t so much as looked up her address, and yet, somehow, you were here.

The curtain shifted, revealing Ellie’s face. Surprise sparked in her eyes before melting into worry, then something else you couldn’t quite place. She pushed the window open, her voice a whisper.

“What are you doing?” A smile flickered, half-bemused and half-concerned, tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed, caught in the mess of panic and exhaustion. You looked at her, the one steady thing left, and swallowed the tremor in your voice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you admit, the tightness in your throat making your voice crack. You’re hyperaware of the seconds ticking by, of the clock that seems to be counting down the hours left until Monday—until everything Heather promised becomes real. But right now, in the glow of Ellie’s room, it feels like maybe the world can stop, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to catch your breath.

Ellie’s eyes shift, scanning your face as if reading every fear, every question you’re too afraid to say out loud. The look on her face—half worry, half resolve—reminds you why you came here, why you needed to see her. You need someone who knows the real you, someone who can ground you when the floor falls out from under your feet. And right now, Ellie is the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

She steps back, making room as you slip inside. The glow from her bedside lamp paints her room in warm golds and deep shadows. Ellie crosses her arms, eyes searching yours. 

Without thinking, you move closer to her, your heart thudding louder with each step.

Ellie pauses mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you—?”

Before she can finish, you’re kissing her, your lips crashing against hers with a sudden urgency. It’s frantic, unexpected, and entirely out of nowhere. The shock in Ellie’s eyes is evident, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she stiffens, her hands hovering uncertainly as if she’s unsure of what to do with the sudden intimacy.

You pull back just a fraction, breathing heavily, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. “I—I don’t know why I did that,” you stammer, your pulse erratic.

Ellie looks at you, confusion flashing in her eyes. “How the hell did you even find my address?”

You blink, thrown off by her question. Of course, she’d wonder. You hadn’t exactly planned this. “I—uh—Student Files…” you admit, a bit embarrassed, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s... kind of a weird story.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her confusion shifting into curiosity.

“I—well, I helped Mrs. Turner with the student records for a while. She needed an extra hand with some administrative stuff, so she let me go through the files a few times. It was mostly just sorting things, but I guess I kind of memorized some of the addresses along the way.” You swallow, trying to steady your breath. “I—I didn’t think about it at the time, but when I got here... I just remembered yours.”

Ellie stares at you for a long moment, her lips parted slightly in disbelief. “You’re telling me you broke into my address book from some random school paperwork?”

You wince, feeling a rush of heat spread across your face. “Yeah, I guess that sounds bad when you put it like that.”

She snorts, shaking her head in a mix of disbelief and amusement. “That’s... honestly a little creepy.”

“I know, I’m not proud of it,” you say quickly, guilt bubbling up, “but I swear, it wasn’t like that. I just—needed to get away from everything. And you... you’re the only person who doesn’t seem like they’ll judge me for it.”

Ellie falls silent, her eyes narrowing, but not in anger. She’s just processing, trying to make sense of what just happened. Finally, she shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess I'm stuck with you now. Might as well make the most of it."

You exhale a shaky breath, relieved that she’s not freaking out. The tension between you is still there, but somehow, it feels like something else is shifting, too—a kind of quiet understanding.

You’re both sitting beside each other on her bed now, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Ellie watches you, her gaze steady, but there’s a hint of curiosity behind it. The silence stretches between you two, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders—the fight with Heather, the pressure of the thirty hours looming over you. It’s too much to handle on your own, and in this moment, you need something, anything, to make it stop.

You could still back out, apologize, and explain that you didn’t mean to make things awkward. But you don’t want to. You don’t want to walk away from this feeling like you're still running from your own choices.

In one sudden, impulsive motion, you push Ellie back onto her bed. The action is quick, almost reckless, and she gasps, taken off guard as her body sinks into the soft sheets. You move on top of her, your hands still shaking slightly as you hold yourself above her. Her eyes widen in confusion, and for a moment, she seems unsure of what just happened.

The heat rises to your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from her. For the first time in what feels like forever, you're not thinking about anything else. Your mind is too full of the chaos in your chest to focus on anything but this moment.

"What the hell?" Ellie breathes, her voice a little breathless, but there’s no anger, no rejection. There’s only surprise, and maybe something else you can’t quite place. She doesn’t push you away. Instead, she just stares up at you, lips parted, waiting for you to say something.

The room feels smaller now, the air thicker, and your pulse is pounding in your ears. You’ve crossed some invisible line, but you’re not sorry for it. You’ve gone too far to care about what happens next.

"I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore," you murmur, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "I’m done trying to please everyone."

Ellie blinks, her gaze shifting from confusion to something else—something softer, but there’s a challenge in her eyes now, like she’s trying to figure you out. “What’s gotten into you?” she asks, voice quieter, but still probing, looking for answers.

But you don’t have one. Not really. All you know is that, in this moment, you want to feel something—anything—other than the fear and pressure that’s been crushing you. You need to feel alive again, even if just for a few minutes.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

You know exactly when it all started—the moment you first felt something for Ellie. It was in the cafeteria, and you’ll never forget it. Ram and Kurt, two of the biggest assholes in school, had cornered someone—probably just because they could. The usual bullying, the usual sneers. But then, for the first time, you saw Ellie.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t hesitate. Even when they tried to intimidate her, Ellie stood her ground, her voice sharp, her posture a quiet defiance. When Ram made the mistake of getting too close, Ellie didn’t back down. She swung a fist at him—hard.

You watched the whole thing, frozen in your seat, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just the fight that caught your attention. It was the way she carried herself—the raw, unapologetic confidence she exuded, even in the heat of it. You weren’t exactly a fan of people who get into fights, but damn... in that moment, Ellie was something else.

Something that made your chest tighten, and for the first time, you weren’t sure whether you were scared or impressed.

One thing is for sure though, seeing that scene… Made you so fucking wet. 

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The moments were flooding your mind—those stolen glances, the subtle touches, the things left unsaid. They were all piling up on you, overwhelming you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It felt like everything had led to this point: you, on top of Ellie in her bed.

Her breath hitched, and for a split second, everything around you froze. Your heart hammered in your chest, the rush of blood in your ears drowning out everything else. There was something electric in the air between you two, something that had been building for what felt like ages, but you hadn’t known how to recognize it until now.

Ellie was looking up at you, her eyes wide, lips parted. But there was something in her expression that you couldn’t place—was it fear? Or was it something else? You couldn’t tell, but you couldn’t pull away now. Not when everything felt so intense, so real.

You’d spent so many nights wondering what it would be like to finally be close to her, to feel her warmth, to understand what it was that pulled you in. But now that you were here, with her beneath you, everything—every little moment, every glance—crashed down on you all at once, and you couldn’t think straight.

Her hand found your shoulder, not to push you away but to pull you closer. The world around you seemed to shrink until all that existed was you and her, suspended in a shared tension you didn’t know how to escape. There were no words, just the raw intensity of the moment, the feeling of being trapped in something you hadn’t fully understood until now.

And just like that, all your self-control, all your attempts to hold back, evaporated. You couldn’t think of anything but her—only Ellie, and the pull between you two that had been simmering in silence for so long.

Ellie’s hand tightened on your shoulder, her eyes never leaving yours. The room seemed to grow quieter, the outside world fading into nothingness. You could hear her breath catch, a clear sign that she wasn’t immune to the weight of the moment.

“You’re going to be my last meal on earth, Ellie Williams,” you whispered, your voice raw and unsteady.

Ellie's eyes darkened with desire as she watched you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. Smirking, she reached up and tore the fabric open, buttons flying everywhere. "I hope you know this is going to create one hell of a mess," she breathed, her fingers trailing down your chest.

Ellie's hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. She hooked a leg around your waist, pulling you flush against her. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" she growled, nipping at your bottom lip. I've been wanting to do this for so long.

“I know. let's fucking break this bed… You won't be getting any sleep tonight you know?” Her eyes widen at your sudden boldness, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She knows you’re not the type to throw caution to the wind like this. Something’s different about you tonight—more raw, more desperate. Ellie studies you for a moment as if trying to decipher the shift in your demeanor.

"Has that fight with Heather really gotten to you this much?" she asks, voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

You can see the question hanging in the air between you, her eyes searching for the truth. “Do you really believe the Heathers would go that far? That they'd actually try to destroy you over something this stupid?”

Her gaze is sharp, unrelenting. You’ve always known Ellie as the type who doesn’t just take things at face value—she digs, pulls, challenges. But tonight, she seems almost... protective, as if she can sense just how badly this whole mess has broken you. You didn’t come here just to escape the night. You came because you truly believed your life was about to end. 

Nobody could control you. Not even yourself. 

You tossed your shirt away, lifting yourself off Ellie for a bit to slip off your panties. Ellie lifted her hips to help you push her pants down, kicking them off the bed. "You're so impatient,”

“I need you…” You leaned in and whispered in her ear, kissing her neck aggressively. 

Ellie moaned softly, her nails digging into your back. "Well, how can I resist such a request?" she purred, unhooking your bra. 

Ellie's back arched as you pushed two fingers into her, her body clenching around them, making her hiss at the suddenness. She nipped at your breast, her moans muffled by your curves.

Ellie's free hand reached down to join yours, her thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles as she fucks herself with your fingers. The sounds of her eating your tits and the wet squelching of your fingers in her pussy fill the room. “Fuck...fuck...fuck…”

Ellie's hips bucked against your hand, her breath coming in short pants. "Harder..." she hissed, biting down on your flesh. Her hand gripped your wrist, guiding you to that magical spot inside her. 

You started moving even faster, more aggressively, making the cheap bed squeak and move. You moaned as she sucked your nipples. 

Ellie cried out sharply as an intense orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your fingers. She released your nipple with a gasp, burying her face against your neck. "Holy shit...holy shit…” 

You chuckle, staring at her as you lick your fingers. 

Ellie's eyes were glued to your mouth as you licked her juices off your fingers, her chest heaving. “You're...you're so hot," she stammered, her hand sliding down to cup you between your legs. She found you soaking. “My turn.”

Ellie pushed you onto your back, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she nestled between your thighs. She teasingly blew cooling air across your heated flesh, making you shiver.

"Make me—Make me scream so fucking loud, the neighbors will think we're murdering each other,”

Ellie winked mischievously. "Challenge accepted." She dove in, her tongue lapping at your glistening folds, probing and teasing. Two fingers plunged deep inside you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot. "Mmmm…”

Ellie pulled back, a strand of your juices clinging to her lips. She stood up, her eyes gleaming with a hungry intensity. “Why'd you fucking stop?” You asked. 

She smirked as she reached for her large strap-on, buckling it around her waist. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet. I'm just getting started." Ellie stroked the thick cock, grinning wickedly.

Ellie grabbed your legs, hiking them over her shoulders. She ran the head of the strap-on through your folds, coating it with your slick heat. She leaned forward, bracing one hand beside your head, the other gripping your thigh.

Ellie slowly pushed forward, her eyes locked onto yours as she stretched you wide. "So...tight," she grunted, feeling you clench around the intrusion. "Relax for me, baby. You can take it." She leaned down to kiss you, muffling your moans. 

“Fuck yeah I can” 

Ellie smirked against your lips, slowly pulling back before slamming forward with a grunt. "That's it, fuck yeah," she panted, setting a hard, fast pace. The room filled with the slap of flesh and your cries of pleasure. "Scream for me,”

“Let me ride your cock…” 

Ellie pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your hands and knees before grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto the strap-on. "You want to ride, huh? Then ride," She sat back, guiding you to bounce on her lap as she held your hips steady.

Her hands tightened on your hips, controlling your pace as you rode her. "That's it, bounce that ass on my dick," She growled, leaning forward to grab your hair and yank your head back. "Look at me while you ride me, damn it.”

You were in shock at her sudden demeanor, but you fucking loved it. You stared into her eyes as you made pornographic noises, gripping the sheets… 

“Fuck I think you tore my mattress” Ellie chuckled darkly, a bead of sweat trickling down her brow as you tossed your head back. 

“Just get a new one…” You mumbled. “You're not fucking sleeping tonight. Make yourself useful for me, Williams!”

"Damn, you're insatiable tonight, aren't you?" Ellie smirked, gripping your hips tighter as she rolled her own, changing the angle of penetration.

"Fuck, just like that," Ellie panted, one hand snaking around to toy with your clit as she continued to relentlessly pound into you. "You're gonna make me cum, riding my cock so good like this.”

“Yeah…? Good.” 

Her words trailed off into a growl as her other hand grabbed your thigh, spreading your legs wider to accommodate her powerful thrusts. "Shit, shit, shit..." She grunted, her body tensing up as she prepared to erupt inside you.

At this point, the only thing you two could hear were the lewd noises you were making and the bed creaking. It's as if the whole town has disappeared.

For some fucked up reason all you could think about was…

“Slap me” You mutter under your breath. 

“What?” Ellie replied confused at your request.

“I said slap me!” 

Ellie's rhythm faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked back at you. "You... you want me to slap you?" She asked, her voice hesitant, checking for consent even in the heat of the moment.

“Yes! Come on just do it” You take her hands and lead them to your face.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was something you actually wanted, before finally giving in to your demand. "Fuck, alright..." She brought her hand up and slapped you across the face, the loud crack echoing through the room. "There?”

“Harder” 

Her hand came crashing down against your face again, harder this time. Her handprint was already visible on your cheek.

“Fuck… Yes!” You scream, tossing your head back, picking up your pace as you continue to ride her. 

She looked at you with confusion and fascination, her hand still stinging from the force of the slap. 

Ellie's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. A dark smirk spread across her face. "Oh, You're into that, huh?" She grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, exposing your neck which she bit down hard. 

You continued to bounce on her lap. Ellie's movements became more erratic as she struggled to keep up with your demanding pace. She slapped your face again, and again, each blow landing with a loud crack. "Fuck, what's gotten into you?!" She screamed, her voice hoarse from exertion.

Her grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your flesh as she pulled you down harder onto her with each upward thrust. Her own breathing was ragged, punctuated by grunts and growls as she fought to maintain control. "Answer me... " She hissed through gritted teeth.

“I'm a dead girl Ellie… In a few hours, I'll be nothing but a memory” 

Ellie's face contorted with emotion. She wrapped an arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back. She loomed over you, her eyes filled with a mix of passion and determination. "Then we'll make these next few hours count," she whispered hoarsely.

With a fierce intensity, she began to move inside you once more. Her touch was both tender and demanding as if she were trying to brand the moment into both of your memories. "Look at me..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of their joining.

Ellie leaned down, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath mingling with yours as she continued to fill you. Her hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing as she looked deep into your eyes. “Look at me…” She panted, her pace quickening as she neared her release.

Ellie's movements became more erratic, her grip on your throat tightening slightly as she felt her climax approaching. Her eyes, usually so fierce and intimidating, now held a vulnerability that took your breath away. "Fuck... I can't... I'm gonna…”

Her words turned into a guttural moan as she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body convulsing as she found her release. The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your fingers digging into her back as you came undone beneath her.

Spent, Ellie collapsed on top of you, her weight grounding you in the moment as both of you struggled to catch your breath. The room was thick with the shared silence of heartbeats and whispered sighs. After a while, she shifted, rolling onto her side and pulling you into the circle of her arms so that your faces were inches apart on the same pillow. Her gaze found yours, unreadable yet intense, as though she were searching for an answer you hadn’t yet asked.

You let out a soft laugh, breaking the silence. “I should probably apologize to Heather, right?” Your words hung in the air, teasing, with a hint of guilt.

Ellie’s lips quirked up, but her eyes stayed serious, studying you as if memorizing each line of your face. “Apologize? For what? For not being a bitch like her?” She tilted her head, the question more genuine than you expected.

A silence settled between you, heavy but not unwelcome. Her hand brushed over your arm, fingertips tracing lazy patterns that sent shivers down your spine. The moment felt fragile like it could shatter under the weight of what was left unspoken.

“Maybe she’ll forgive me.” you finally said, voice softer now.

Ellie’s expression softened, the edge slipping from her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “What matters is now.” She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the touch lingering as if trying to convey everything she couldn’t say out loud.

You closed your eyes, sinking into the warmth of her, the world outside forgotten. Whatever storm awaited beyond these four walls, you knew you’d face it when the time came. But for now, in this stolen moment, the rest of the world could wait.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The sun was still low in the sky when you pulled on yesterday’s clothes, feeling the fabric cling to you like a reminder of the night before. Ellie shot you a glance from across the room, a smirk tugging at her lips as she threw on her jacket and grabbed the keys to her dad’s old car.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice husky with the remnants of sleep.

You nodded, a tightness in your stomach as the reality of facing Heather settled in. The drive was silent except for the rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, Ellie’s fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel. You caught yourself glancing at her profile, the early morning light outlining the sharp line of her jaw. It stirred a strange mix of dread and comfort in you, like everything was about to change.

Heather’s front door stood slightly ajar, swinging gently in the breeze, as if even the house was recovering from the chaos of the night before. You exchanged a quick look with Ellie before climbing the familiar steps to Heather’s room. You knocked, the sound loud in the silence. A moment later, Heather appeared, her eyes rimmed with red, bleary with sleep. Her gaze shifted between you and Ellie, confusion furrowing her brow. Then, the realization hit—betrayal mixed with something darker.

“Why are you here… with her?” Heather muttered, her voice hoarse.

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Ellie before meeting Heather’s gaze. “I came to apologize,” you said, the words tumbling out quickly, awkwardly.

Heather’s eyes narrowed, skepticism battling the exhaustion on her face. She sighed, rubbing her temple. “My head is killing me,” she groaned, dismissing the tension for the moment.

“I’ll get you something for that,” you volunteered quickly, relieved to have an excuse to escape the weight of her glare. Ellie followed you down the stairs, her presence a familiar shadow at your back.

As you rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out random ingredients in a half-hearted attempt at a hangover cure, Ellie leaned against the counter, one eyebrow raised. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” she teased.

You shot her a tired smile. “Not even a little.”

She laughed, the sound sharp and unexpected in the otherwise quiet house. She spotted something in the cabinet, a bottle in her hand, her eyes glinting with mischief. “How about we give her this?” she joked, waving it like a prize, before pouring it into a cup.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly reached out, batting her hand away. “No, fuck, I’m not going to kill Heather,” you said, exasperated. You set the cup down on the counter, the tension in your chest loosening slightly at her playful grin.

Ellie’s expression softened, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Relax, I was just kidding.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just grab the cup and let’s go.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing the cup without a second glance as you led the way back upstairs. Heather was still sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the cup Ellie handed her. She hesitated for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a long sip.

It only took a few seconds for her face to go pale. Her eyes widened in horror, and she gasped, a strangled noise tearing from her throat before she collapsed, crumpling to the floor.

Time seemed to stop. You froze, heart hammering in your chest as reality crashed over you in icy waves.

“Oh my God, Heather!” you shouted, rushing to her side, shaking her lightly.

Ellie stood frozen, her eyes wide, the cup rolling to a stop at her feet. The room spun, and panic surged in your chest. The weight of the moment hit you all at once.

You fumbled for Heather’s wrist, your hands trembling as you felt for a pulse, even though you knew Ellie had already checked. The silence that followed was deafening, pressing in on you like a vice. Panic clawed at your throat as you stumbled backward, staring at Heather’s lifeless body on the floor.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, voice cracking. “This is it. My future… it’s over. We’re screwed.” The words rushed out in jagged breaths, and tears stung your eyes.

Ellie dropped to her knees beside Heather, her face pale but composed, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “Hey, hey. We’re not doing this,” she snapped, looking up at you. “We’re not giving up.”

You shook your head, fingers running through your hair. “Ellie, she’s dead. There’s no coming back from this. We need to turn ourselves in and tell them it was a mistake. Maybe—”

“No,” Ellie’s voice cut through your spiral like a knife. Her eyes locked onto yours, fierce and unyielding. “That won’t work, and you know it. No one’s going to believe this was an accident, especially not with our history.”

You swallowed hard, her words sinking in. She was right. It didn’t matter that it was an honest mistake; nobody would buy it. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as the reality of the situation set in.

Ellie’s gaze flicked to Heather’s desk, cluttered with remnants of last night’s party—crumpled notes, an empty bottle, a pen lying askew. An idea sparked in her eyes, wild and desperate. “We have to make this look like it was her choice,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “We need a note.”

Your stomach twisted. “What? Ellie, no. That’s insane.”

“It’s the only way,” she insisted, stepping closer. Her hands found yours, squeezing tight enough to ground you, even in the chaos. “Listen to me. You’re good at this—you know how to make it look real.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you met her eyes. They were wide with fear, but steady with resolve. You pulled away, pacing the room as her plan took shape in your mind. The thought of forging a suicide note felt sickening, but the image of everything you’d worked for slipping away was worse.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, voice cracking as you reached for the crumpled notebook on Heather’s desk. You picked up the pen, your fingers numb against the cold metal.

Ellie hovered behind you, her voice a whisper in the silence. “We don’t have a choice.”

Your hands shook as you opened Heather’s notebook, filled with neat handwriting, doodles, and half-finished notes from classes you all shared. The sight of it twisted your stomach into knots. You glanced at Ellie, who was pacing behind you, her footsteps restless on the creaking floorboards.

“Write this down,” she said, her voice strained but sharp. “Something about how no one really knows her. How they only see her for her looks, her parties, but never who she really is.”

You nodded mutely, the words flowing from the pen as if it had a mind of its own. Each sentence felt like a betrayal, but you couldn’t stop. Your mind swirled with memories of Heather—flashes of her laughter, the way her eyes crinkled when she was truly happy. The notebook beneath your hands felt like a violation, turning those memories into something twisted.

Ellie leaned over your shoulder, reading the words as they took shape. “‘I just wish someone could see me beyond the mask I wear every day,’” she added softly, a tremor in her voice.

You glanced at her, and for a moment, you saw something in her eyes—vulnerability, maybe even regret. But she didn’t look away. She couldn’t afford to.

You finished with a trembling signature, one that mirrored Heather’s, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it was echoing in your ears. The note was done.

Ellie exhaled shakily, stepping back. “This… this has to work,” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

You stood frozen, clutching the notebook like both a lifeline and a curse. The room felt colder, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, impossible to ignore.

The note sat on Heather’s desk, the ink still drying. You and Ellie exchanged a glance heavy with fear and silent understanding. Your heart hammered in your chest, every instinct screaming for you to run, to put as much distance as possible between yourselves and this room.

“Let’s go,” Ellie whispered, her voice tight, urgent. She grabbed your hand, grounding you enough to snap you from your stupor.

You stumbled out of Heather’s room, casting one last glance at her lifeless form sprawled on the floor. The sight twisted in your stomach, but there was no time to dwell on it now. Every step down the stairs felt like an eternity, the creaking floorboards and muffled noises from the outside world blending into a nauseating symphony.

As you reached the front door, morning light filtered through the glass, illuminating the remnants of the party—empty cups, forgotten jackets, a broken picture frame. You swallowed hard and pushed the door open, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

Ellie’s grip on your hand tightened as you both hurried down the driveway. She didn’t let go until you reached her dad’s car parked a few houses down. The two of you climbed inside, and Ellie fumbled with the keys, her fingers trembling as she shoved them into the ignition.

The engine roared to life, cutting through the morning silence as she pulled away with a jerky start. You couldn’t look back; you didn’t dare. The road ahead blurred as your vision swam, the reality of what you’d just done slamming into you with full force.

The silence between you and Ellie was suffocating, filled with all the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. Finally, after a long stretch of tense moments, Ellie spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

“We’re going to be okay. We have to be.”

You stared out the window, the familiar streets of your neighborhood passing by like scenes from someone else’s life. The weight of the lie you’d just created pressed down on you, an unshakable truth that would follow you both, no matter how far you drove.

The car sped down the road, the hum of the engine doing nothing to drown out the thundering beat of your heart. You clenched your fists in your lap, knuckles white as the gravity of what had happened sank in. The silence was unbearable.

Finally, the words burst out of you in a shaky gasp. “What the fuck have we done, Ellie?” Your voice trembled, cracking under the weight of your panic. Admitting it aloud made everything feel too real, like saying it would bring everything crashing down.

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her eyes fixed on the road, but you could see her hands shaking where they gripped the steering wheel. She swallowed hard, taking a breath as her neck tensed. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice fragile as the morning light seeping through the windshield. “I don’t know, but we did what we had to.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as you looked at her, searching for answers that weren’t there. “Had to? Ellie, we just—”

“Stop.” Her voice was sharp now, cutting through your panic like a knife. She glanced at you, eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “If we break now, it’s over. We have to hold it together, alright? Just… just breathe.”

But how could you? How could you breathe when the weight of what you’d done sat so heavily on your chest? The road stretched endlessly before you, each passing moment taking you further from Heather’s house and deeper into a future you couldn’t begin to understand.

The silence that followed Ellie’s words was deafening, a chasm between you. Your vision blurred, and you turned your gaze toward the window, watching the neighborhood blur into smears of familiar shapes. Memories of Heather flooded in, each one twisting the knife deeper.

Heather Chandler. Larger than life, with her sharp sarcasm and effortless command of any room. The girl who annoyed you endlessly with her need for attention, but who had also shown up at your house with ice cream and a playlist of your favorite songs when you had a bad day. You’d shared secrets, inside jokes, late-night talks when the world felt safe.

Despite her flaws, Heather had always been your best friend. She could be self-absorbed, reckless even, but you knew behind the façade was someone just as scared and insecure as anyone else. She trusted you in ways she didn’t trust anyone else, and in a twisted irony, that trust now lay shattered on her bedroom floor.

A lump rose in your throat, guilt clawing at you with an intensity that was almost unbearable. “She was my friend, Ellie,” you choked out, your voice thick with grief. “My best friend.”

Ellie’s expression hardened, eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to the road. She didn’t say anything, and the silence that filled the car was deafening. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand; you knew Ellie well enough to know she carried her own shadows. But right now, understanding didn’t change what had been done.

Heather was your best friend, and now she was gone. A casualty of a moment that had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even breathe.

Ellie’s eyes flared with frustration, and her hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles white. She snapped her gaze to you.

"Seriously?" she barked, her voice laced with frustration. "A few hours ago, you were freaking out about Heather trying to tear you apart. You thought she was gonna come after you, right? That she was out to ruin your life, and now you're losing your shit because—what? Because she’s gone?”

The words hit you like a slap. She was right. That’s exactly how you’d felt—like Heather’s rage was a ticking time bomb, and you couldn’t breathe without thinking she was waiting for the right moment to make your life hell. But now, everything was different.

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her voice rising, becoming sharper. “We took care of that problem, and now you're acting like it’s the end of the world?” She laughed, but it was bitter, almost a sneer. “Are you really this worried about killing someone when a few hours ago you were terrified she was gonna ruin your life?”

The truth hit you like a cold wave. You had been consumed by fear of Heather’s wrath, so focused on her anger, so terrified she’d destroy everything you’d worked for. And now, somehow, she was... gone. Just like that.

But that didn’t make this better. It didn’t make it right.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. How could you explain to Ellie that, even though Heather had been a threat, she had still been your friend? How could you say that this was a mistake, an irreversible one, no matter how much you tried to justify it?

Ellie’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, colder now than before. “Make a decision,” she said, voice steely. “Either you're with me, and we handle this, or you lose it and ruin everything. No middle ground. Pick one.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. There was no turning back. You could feel the tension crackling between you, daring you to say the wrong thing.

You stared at her, at the frantic energy in her eyes, and for a moment, you almost wanted to pull away, to scream at her to take responsibility, to make this right. But deep down, you knew that would only make everything worse. And a part of you—the part that had once feared Heather—knew that sticking by Ellie was the only way to survive this.

You took a slow, shaky breath and met her gaze, locking eyes. You didn’t speak, because you both knew there was nothing left to say. The promise was unspoken, but it was there. Both of you understood it in the silence that filled the car.

Never again. That was the promise. No one could ever know. Not Heather’s family, not your friends, not anyone. This was the end of Heather Chandler—and the end of the lives you’d known before this moment.

You could feel it, the weight of it settling in your chest. But there was no way out now. So, as much as you hated it, as much as it twisted your insides, you nodded. The promise was sealed between you and Ellie.

A promise that would haunt you both... forever?

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

A week later, it felt like the whole town was playing a part in a twisted play where everyone pretended Heather Chandler was some tragic saint. In reality, she had been anything but. Heather’s smile was sharp, a weapon she wielded as easily as a laugh. She was untouchable, rich, popular, and cruel when she wanted to be—which was often.

But now, the school halls were lined with flowers, photos of her with wide grins and perfect hair, as if she had been everyone’s best friend. As if she hadn’t left a trail of bruised egos and whispered stories behind her. The memorial was set to take place in the gym, with its polished floor and banners that Heather herself had probably ordered others to hang while she stood back with a critical eye.

You sat at your desk, the speech paper in front of you nearly crumpled from the force of your grip. You were expected to speak, to stand in front of everyone and tell them who Heather had been. Not the girl who snapped at you during rehearsals or spread rumors just for entertainment. Not the Heather who wielded secrets like knives, knowing exactly where to cut. But the version of her that the school wanted to remember—sanitized and perfect.

"Heather Chandler was... complicated," you wrote, then scratched it out immediately. The truth couldn't live in this speech; it wasn’t allowed to. What people wanted, what they needed, was a story that fit their idea of her. A tale that made sense of the mourning, justified the tears. And so you wrote a lie instead.

"Heather was a leader, a voice that demanded to be heard. She pushed those around her to be better, even when it was hard to see."

Your stomach twisted as you read it back. It was true, in a way. Heather did push people—but only when it served her. And yet, the guilt coiled tighter, because even if she had been sharp and demanding, even if she'd hurt others more times than you could count, she hadn't deserved this.

Ellie’s idea to forge the note had seemed like the only way out that morning. You’d done it, hands shaking so hard you thought the pen might break. And now, that act hung over you both like a storm cloud, pressing down on every breath.

The knock at your door barely registered. "Sweetheart, it's time to go," your mom said softly, unaware of the storm raging inside you. You forced yourself up, folding the paper into neat, straight lines, as if by making it perfect, you could convince yourself that it was okay to stand up there and tell this story.

As you walked into the gym, eyes followed you, their faces expectant, tearful, pretending that Heather had been something more than she was. Your gaze met Ellie’s from across the room, and for a moment, the mask slipped—both of you wearing the same haunted look. You knew that as you spoke the words written in shaky pen strokes, the real Heather would remain forgotten, buried under a lie that bound you and Ellie together forever.

“Heather... was my best friend,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to make it believable. The gym was silent, the air thick with the weight of collective grief and whispered memories. You took a shaky breath, feeling every eye on you, watching, waiting. “I had no idea she was struggling like this.”

The tears that welled up stung, but they weren’t for Heather. They were for the guilt gnawing at you, tearing through your chest like a beast. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this. Because beneath the surface, behind the eulogy and the sympathetic nods from the crowd, you knew the truth. You knew that you were the one who had killed her—accident or not.

As the words spilled from your lips, painting a picture of a girl who was kinder, more misunderstood than she ever was, your throat tightened. You blinked rapidly, letting a tear fall, and from the murmurs and shifting bodies, you knew it had the intended effect. The speech ended with a final echo, your voice cracking at the right moment.

The teacher stepped forward, a solemn smile on her face, and spoke. “Thank you for that beautiful tribute. We know this is a difficult time for everyone. The school counselor will be available for anyone who needs to talk.”

You descended the podium, the weight in your chest pressing heavier than before. The applause felt hollow, a charade, just like everything else.

Ellie found you by the corner of the room as people began to disperse, some going up to lay flowers, others wiping tears. She sidled up next to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re such a good actor, you know that?” The words had an edge, sharp enough to make you flinch.

You raised an eyebrow, your expression hardening. “Those were real tears, Ellie. This... what we did... it’s eating me alive.”

Ellie’s smirk fell, her eyes narrowing. “She was a fucking asshole to you, to everyone. Maybe she deserved it.”

Her words struck you like a slap. Memories flooded back—the way Heather had humiliated you in front of others, the cruel jokes, the power she wielded like a weapon. But you shook your head, the panic creeping up your spine. “No, Ellie. Not like this.”

A shadow crossed Ellie’s face, and she looked away, her jaw clenched. The silence between you stretched uncomfortably. Then a thought slammed into you with such force that it made your stomach churn. That morning, before it all unraveled, Ellie had joked about giving Heather the wrong cup—the one with your experiment, the mixture that was never meant to be ingested. At the time, you’d laughed it off, thinking it was just dark humor.

But what if it wasn’t a joke? What if she hadn’t made a mistake at all?

Your heart raced, the blood thundering in your ears. What if this wasn’t an accident, but something much darker? You glanced at Ellie, whose eyes remained distant, a coldness settling there that you hadn’t noticed before. And for the first time, you realized you didn’t know her as well as you thought.

Ellie’s eyes, once so familiar, glistened with something unreadable as the tension crackled between you. She turned back, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the gym, the memorial, and the hushed sobs around you all faded away. It was just the two of you, bound by the secret that threatened to suffocate you both.

“I would do anything to protect you,” she said, her voice low and steady, but with a strange, fervent edge. The words sent a shiver racing down your spine as if she’d just revealed a part of herself you weren’t supposed to see.

Ellie’s words lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and suffocating. You searched her face for any hint of guilt, any sign that she was as trapped in this as you were. But instead, there was a flicker of something else—something more complicated. Protective, maybe. Defiant. But not malicious.

The realization loosened something in your chest, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter if Ellie had meant it, if the poison had only been meant as a scare tactic, a mistake. The fact remained that Heather was dead, and the weight of that truth was too much to carry.

“It’s over, Ellie,” you said, your voice hollow, almost mechanical. The words tasted bitter, final. Her eyes widened, the mask slipping for just a second to show the raw shock underneath.

“What do you mean?” Her tone cracked, breaking through the confidence she always wore like armor.

You shook your head, stepping back as if the distance could somehow cleanse the guilt seeping into your bones. “I can’t do this. I can’t look at you and pretend everything is okay. We’re done, Ellie. I don’t want any contact with you anymore.”

Her face fell, the sharp edges softening with a kind of disbelief. “But I—”

“No,” you cut her off, each word like a knife. “I don’t care what your reasons were. We crossed a line, and I can’t come back from that. I don’t want to.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, her hands balling into fists at her sides. For a moment, you thought she might argue, try to convince you that she did what she did out of love, out of loyalty. But instead, she nodded slowly, the acceptance stinging more than any fight could have.

“Fine,” she said, voice tight and low. “If that’s what you want.”

You turned and walked away before she could see the tears that threatened to fall again—this time for everything you’d lost, everything you could never take back.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

Part Two??

Tag List : @mimasroom2 @pixelllliess @elliessgfsstuff @abandonedstars1

A/N : okay guys it's like 1am and i have to wake up at 4 for school. I hope you guys enjoy this! (ps. i only tagged people who said they wanted to get tagged!)

[silverzoomies]

silverzoomiezzz hi hi i was eating my cloudberry ice cream and i dont know why i start to think about peter and then i think about you. and i have a question for you. what do you think peter’s fav snacks that he would save it for you because he wanted you to enjoy and love it as much as he does? this is so silly lol but anyway have a great summer <3

💗oh my gosh, hello anon sweetie !! i'm sorry for answering so late !! i hope your summer has been nice !! it's been pretty decent here, aside from the lame ass humidity.🔥🫠🔥

i'm so honored you would think of me, after thinking of our beloved speedy boy. 💗honestly, i take that as such a huge compliment !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would like (he hoards them, cuz he's the snack hoarding type. ty dofp 💗):

⚡in canon, he hoards hostess snack cakes. specifically the chocolatey, cream-filled kind ⚡and twinkies. dude's got twinkies for two movies in a row ⚡like it's no wonder people assume he's a twinkie fiend ⚡we also see him with so much pepsi and mtn dew ⚡and i know it's just product placement obvi. but he does seem like a mtn dew guy, right? i bet he'd love baja blast. code red too ⚡dk if this counts as a snack, but he'd probably love taco bell. i mean, it's fast. it's cheap. it's addictive. it's easy to indulge in. mans would quote those old taco bell commercials with the chihuahua ⚡sour candy. all of it. gummy worms, airhead x-tremes, sour twists, sour patch kids. tell me i'm wrong. i'm not ⚡he'd make a mess with some fun dip, lemme tell ya ⚡any candy they used to give out on halloween? he'd be addicted to all that shit. he'd love sugary junk. he constantly needs his fix. laffy taffy, nerds, now and laters, skittles, pop rocks, m&m's - you name it, he's into it ⚡imagine the dorito fingers, anon. the cheeto fingers. the takis fingers. do y'all think he'd be more into regular cheetos, or hot cheetos? he reads as a hot cheetos guy to me ⚡he'd slam some icees. slurpees. any kinda syrupy, frozen drink. he mixes all the flavors, sucks it down, and feels no brain freeze ⚡if you took him to carnivals, boardwalks, or amusement parks; he'd put the funnel cake stands out of business ⚡sweets are his kryptonite, really ⚡i personally like to imagine he knows his fair share of international snacks too. since he can zip around the world in a blink. taiyaki. baklava. conchas. tres leches. pirozhki. european chocolate. any and all kinds of street food. he knows all the best 7-eleven instant ramen - and the best toppings for 'em too ⚡i think he'd also go hog wild over a really good steak, y'know? or some barbecue. some ribs. some brisket. all the shmeats !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would save, just so he could share them with you💗:

⚡he wouldn't ⚡correction: he couldn't ⚡c'mon, do you honestly think he'd have the self control? ⚡you're asking him to do the impossible ⚡see, anon, he'd think about saving a yummy treat for you ⚡keyword being think ⚡like, just as he starts to realize he's crushing on you big time ⚡he's guzzling something tasty, when he has the thought: hey...wait a sec! you'd probably really like this!! ⚡but a second later, the treat's already gone. devoured in an instant. whoops! oh well!! ⚡he's just way too impulsive to save anything ⚡like it would have to be out of sight, out of mind ⚡or you'd have to pick from his own, secret stash ⚡because otherwise, he can't hold himself back. he'll gorge any snacks in the nearest vicinity ⚡he'd legit have to wait 'til you were both together. in that moment. if you had a few minutes. he'd be like, "hey. babe. babe. babe. babe. i got somethin' i wanna show you." ⚡he speeds you away for some mind-blowingly good street food, in some country you've never been to, nor heard of ⚡even on valentine's day. he has to snag you one of those heart-shaped boxes of chocolates last minute ⚡that, or he has to hide it from himself. if he doesn't, he'll be lookin' down at an empty box - chocolate all over the corners of his mouth - like "ah, shit."

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Seven

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Seven!! Sorry it's taken a while, I've been busy with life and went away with some friends, but it's finally here! It's a long one too, so hoping it makes up for the wait. Also, I write music but fuckkk is it hard trying to actually rap, so this is just a forewarning to everyone seeing as there's a scene in this part that involves exactly that! Hope you enjoy it anyway:) Thank you for all the love on this series!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

“What’s your favourite chocolate?” I wondered around the Twizzler I’d gone ahead and stolen from the bag he’d gotten at the 7-Eleven. We’d been driving for a little while now, just under a half hour if I had to guess, and between us we had already succumbed to three short-lived encounters with brain freeze, all down to the Slurpee we continued to keep sharing. 

“Like brand?” Marshall questioned me, face wrinkling in confusion as he made another left hand turn, fingers loosening around the steering wheel when it righted itself.

“No,” I shook my head in answer, chewing on the red stick before I held out its end to Em when he tipped his chin in an asking gesture, “I don't know. Like, type?”

He had to think about it for a second, jaw working against the chewy sweet whilst his eyes continued to trail the length of road ahead. “Fuck, I don’ know. Like a Hershey’s maybe?”

I pulled a face at the reply, “Boring. Figured you might say M&M’s or something. Bring a little irony to the table, you know?”

Marshall’s head tilted sideways to level me with a snide look before he stole the next Twizzler right from out of my hand, “Hilarious.” He deadpanned as he took a big bite, “Come on then, Judge Judy. Tell me yours.”

Even whilst wrinkling my nose at his reference to the Tv Judge, I was quick with my retort, “Easy. Can’t go wrong with a Flake or a KitKat.”

“Heard of that first one.” Marshall mentioned, face dropping its previous snark as he pondered on my answer, “Ain’t ever tried it though.”

My eyes widened as I simultaneously turned to face him, ignoring the way my knee knocked against the centre console in my haste. “Oh, you’ve got to! It’s honest to God like Heaven melting in your mouth.”

With an unconvinced brow, Marshall just blew out a breath and shook his head at me. “But a KitKat?” He added after a second passed, “I don’t know. I mean, a chunky I could prolly get behind.”

My upper lip curled, “A chunky, really? What are you, twelve?”

Marshall returned the quip with a stupid look and then stole the rest of the Twizzler pack as a form of retaliation.

I rolled my eyes and it wasn’t long before he waved the topic away, claiming it was stupid anyway because Oreos were supposedly where it was at. An opinion which was strong enough steered us onto a whole new debate: biscuits vs cookies. 

I was still fighting for my life by the time Em eventually pulled the car off to the side, rolling up onto a curb outside a strip of buildings that appeared to get a whole lot of use. “All I’m saying is that a cookie is a kind of biscuit, right? So what the fuck sense does it make to claim that they’re all cookies?”

We’d since come to a slow stop, so confused I pivoted in my seat to look around us with a slight frown, catching sight of a bar on the very corner, a stretch of offices sat on the opposing side, and a huge block building that had long been dubbed ‘Saint Andrew’s’.

“This some sort of convent?” I wondered out loud whilst Marshall simply switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. When I glanced over at him again I found him already wearing an amused smirk, one which seemed to brighten at my words, though he just shook his head at my question. It was then that he chose to jump out. “Marsh?”

I was left with the low sound of his chuckle just as the door clicked shut behind him, leaving me in sudden silence whilst I watched the man round the front of the car. Blinking, I could only move to follow him, undoing my belt and finishing the last of the Slurpee before my door was opening all on its own. I raised a brow at Em’s gentlemanly act when I climbed out to join him on the pavement, but kept quiet about it as he shut the door behind me and locked up.

“Thanks.” I breathed out before peering around us once more, taking in the noisy street and the rowdy crowd that was gathered inside the bar a couple car lengths away. “Will you tell me where we are now though?”

“And spoil all the fun?” Marshall smirked, eyes glistening now as he backed away from the curb to start up the set of stairs leading into the big block building that had caught my eye a minute earlier. 

My face flattened, “You’re the only one having fun here.”

The grin he flashed me was cheeky and only lasted that of a split second before he was gesturing me to follow him up, tucking his hands away in his pockets when we finally reached the top step and came to a stop in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors that gave off such a retro feel. 

Staying quiet, Marshall was quick to push through them, as though he’d done it a thousand times before, slipping inside and holding the bottom plank open with just a foot so that I could join him. I wrapped my arms around myself slightly as the door stilted shut behind us, the sound echoing out. 

As I walked a little further inside, my gaze caught on the building’s lofty interior, a total contrast from both its outer disguise and what I’d first expected. It was a large lobby of sorts; four long tables were stationed in the very centre, a short stretch away from a snazzy looking bar detailed with ebony wood and warm lighting in the back, and adjacent to a set of stairs which led upwards.

I glanced back over at Em, who appeared to be watching me rather than taking in the room. I felt myself flush lightly under his gaze but quick to cover it up as I took another glance around, noting a different set of double doors sat on the other side of the room and a couple of sofas dotted around by the surrounding walls. I swallowed lightly before turning back to him, “Bit early to be drinking, no?”

It was a joke, a silly one seeing as he’d been sober for years, but one which seemed to loosen the atmosphere around us further as his mouth quirked upwards slightly and he moved to walk once more, nodding his head at me to follow. 

Follow I did, eyes catching on all sorts of details the building had to offer as he led me across the room and through the mentioned pair of doors, turning away from what appeared to be the ‘main event’ (a rather large hall decked out with a stage and a plethora of seating rows) so that he could instead jog down a hall full of metal stairs. 

The heavy door at the very bottom opened with a long squeak and although there had been people dotting the building here and there as we’d walked through, I took quick note of the small group which resided down here. There were only about six of them, from what I could first tell, the majority messing about with wires and other equipment by a platform stage whilst another two stood behind what looked to be a bar. 

My attention was ultimately caught though by the two men bickering back and forth by the side of the stage, just in front of a DJ booth.

“Fuck you, man. I’ma do what I like!” The first one spat, nose wrinkled as he swiped a microphone right from out of the other man’s hand. He was a few inches shorter than the latter but didn’t seem to mind, nor care, about that fact as he practically tiptoed to better get in the guy’s face. 

“Awh Jesus man, Soup! Why you always clownin’ around?” The second blew out, tossing the rest of the mic’s lead his way as he swatted at the air, “I mean, come on. You always tryna switch shit up when shit don’ need to be switched up!”

Soup? If that really was his name, didn’t seem to much care about his mate’s lack of excitement for whatever plans he had brewing as he fumbled with the jack lead and jumped back at him to defend himself. “I ain’t clownin’, dawg! Just trust me here on this one, this is gone bring a whole load’a new people in, D! I just know they gone be linin’ up out the door to get their hands on this stuff.”

“We ain’t sellin’ fuckin’ club merch, Soup. How many times I gotta say it?” ‘D’ retorted and shook his head as he turned his back on the other man to grab the rest of the equipment they’d obviously been unboxing.

“Yo, when have I ever been wrong ‘bout shit like this?” Soup followed up, unrelenting as he dragged the mic along with him, creating enough of a trip hazard that I worried when a young guy in a yellow cap swerved on past him. But it appeared that everyone here was far too used to the duo’s antics because the man in the cap skipped over the lead with an ease that looked utterly effortless, making it to the bar in one piece whilst the other two continued on none the wiser.

“How ‘bout every damn time?” D huffed with a look thrown over his shoulder, before he then sighed, “We stick to what we know, man. Stop houndin’ me with all this other crap.”

It was just as Soup opened his mouth to argue his case yet again that Marshall laughed from beside me, making me jump ever so as the noise rang out across the room. Heads spun in our direction then, most eyes widening at the sight of the infamous newcomer but mine were caught on the matching set of grins that Em was immediately met with when kicked off the wall he’d been leaning against, content with having watched the argument play out.

“Mickey, my man!” D hollered, dropping what he held back into the box to meet Marshall halfway. 

“Thought I told you to stop callin’ me that.” But even with the snippy retort, Em was smiling as the two of them clapped hands, sharing a short embrace before Soup wormed his way between them. 

D shook his head as he took a large step back, although the man was still grinning, eyes captured on the two friends, “Shit, man. It’s good to see you.”

Marshall just smiled before he turned to the shorter man and clapped him on the back, “How you doin’, Soup?” He let his hood fall back as he stood before the small group around us, seeming to become more alive in their presence, “Still mouthin’ off, I see.”

My own lips quirked up at that, watching the three of them from the sidelines. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they had history, all of them sharing an easy comradery that I hadn’t much seen yet with Em since I’d first arrived, and already I was hooked on watching it all play out.

“I ain’t mouthin’ off, man. This idea’s the real deal!” Soup countered and he was smiling so wide that I could see the silver tooth that was embedded where his front left should have been over from where I stood. “Genius even! Could see it settin’ us up ‘til The Jam finally passes.”

I had no idea what the fuck ‘The Jam’ was but I had a calculating thought as to what the underground level of Saint Andrew’s supposedly was now. It was a little surreal once I’d latched onto the idea, in truth, never having figured I’d be standing in The Shelter of all places. The building was notorious on its own, having hosted a plethora of artists up in the main hall, people like Nirvana, R.E.M., The Beastie Boys, Iggy Pop, Blur, and Bob Dylan. And so I kicked myself for not having realised it sooner, the venue truly was one of the best in the city! Then again, I’d only ever really heard it iconically dubbed as The Shelter.

Marshall appeared to look back over at me then as he shook his head at Soup’s justification, grin softening ever so. I smiled back at him, gaze flickering over the expanse of his face, taking in what I could.

“Yo, come on over.” He said, voice travelling over to me without him even having to yell. The two men seemed to recognise my presence then as they turned to get a good glance at just who Em seemed to be speaking to. So, accompanied by only a little trepidation, I walked over to meet them, D eyes calculating whilst Soup’s lips pursed in an act of surprise, his eyes raking over me.

“Woo, Slim. And they claim you gotta type!” Soup all but whistled at my approach, earning a raised brow from me and a hearty backhand from his promoter friend. 

Marshall just rolled his eyes, seemingly used to it, arm stretching out to welcome me into the odd triangle they’d created, an action I allowed even as his hand came to rest on the small of my back. “Ignore Soup, he ain’t never been near a lady.” 

Blowing out an unexpected chuckle, I pressed my lips together before they eventually settled into akin to a smirk, eyes flitting over the two men. “Most would beg to differ with those pretty eyes.” I quipped, ignoring the man’s previous remark but filing it away for later.

Soup blinked at the obvious complement, seemingly dazed for a split second before he bounced back with a kilowatt grin. He looked between Marshall and D smugly, batting his eyelashes. “Y’all see?” He said, before he turned to me, “I been tellin’ ‘em, baby. But do they listen? No.”

D rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, apparently done with him as he shoved Soup hard enough for the man to stumble slightly to the side, ignoring the scowl he got in turn whilst Marshall just snorted, the hand on my back unmoving. “You really gone dropped yourself in it now.” D chuckled to him, peering over at me with a sweet smile that warmed his face whilst Soup tried to right himself, “What, Mickey didn’t warn you?”

“Mickey?” I wondered, eyes flitting between the two. I grinned when Em groaned lowly, tossing his head back a tad.

D laughed at my ask, the sound bright in the shrouded shadows of which lower levels of the building offered, “As a kid he had these giant fuckin’ ears, his momma called him it the first time she picked him up from school and well, it sorta stuck.”

“Actually?” I looked back over at Marshall with an almost adoring face, peering past the brim of his cap to get a better look at his ears, “Oh my god, I can actually see it now!”

I joined D in his snickering after, muffling my amusement slightly when Em’s eyes narrowed a tad in a playful way, his hand dropping from my lower back to pinch my furthest hip. I raised my own in a silent surrender, but his settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up.” The man scoffed whilst he shook his head at us, pointing an accusing finger over at D, who’d since settled a hand on his stomach to keep from bowling over, “You know I’ma have to get you back for that one.”

D merely waved the warning away, just as Soup slid on over to pipe up once more, “Ayo, you gone introduce us to yo girl then, Slim, or you just waitin’ on me to work my magic?” He asked around a smug smile, shucking the collar of his heavy jacket before he flashed me a flirty look, “Homegirl’s got a real pretty voice, too. Where you from, baby?”

Never had I ever had someone be so blatant, I was honestly unsure if he was just messing around in hopes to annoy Em or if he was actually trying his luck with me. A little wide eyed, I looked back at Marshall stumped. The man’s face had flattened a tad at Soup’s remarks but his smirk was still ever present.

“Lay off it, man.” D sighed before Marshall could say anything at all, cheek dimpling as he shook his head once more at the shorter man. 

“I’m just sayin’!” Soup proclaimed before he spun back around to face Em, “A girl that fine is gone get snatched up real quick, man.”

“Keep talkin’ and you might not keep your tongue.” Marshall responded calmly enough, though it shocked me enough to have me keeping quiet as the man stared back at Soup unblinkingly, lifting an eyebrow at him whilst his hand continued to reside at my hip.

“Oo and the claws have come out!” D cut in with a whoop, obviously humoured by it all, but his response was enough to have Marshall rolling his eyes and for another small smirk to toy at the corner of his lips.

Soup grinned as well, hands held up in a placating gesture, “You know I mean no harm, Slim.”

“Yeah, you ain’t never mean it.” Marshall shot back around a low chuckle, clucking his tongue when Soup immediately tried to argue his case, rapidly mentioning a house fire, some sort of robbery that had gone wrong and then an accidental shooting far too quickly for me to really ask anymore about it, because Em chose then to speak over him, ultimately cutting him off. “You done?”

With a huff, Soup let up. “I was just sayin’.”

D snorted, “When the hell are you not just sayin’, my man."

Marshall shook his head at the duo and wet his lower lip before he finally moved to introduce us, although it was also in that moment that his hand finally slipped away. The lack of it had me blinking. 

“Boys, this is Elia. El, this here is Soup and Drew.” Drew shot me a smile alongside a slight tilt of his chin, whilst Soup just wiggled his brow. Marshall continued on with a swift jab to the latter’s abdomen, ignoring the slight squark given, “Known these guys since middle school.”

I tried to add up the age in my head, forever baffled by the difference in education here to that back home. Em must have realised it too, because his next smile was wry and knowing.

“‘Bout ten, if I had to guess.” He mentioned just to settle the matter for me, before he looked back at D and Soup to explain, “Girl’s from London, they do shit different over there.”

I rolled my eyes, though my smile gave away to the fact that he’d amused me with his explanation. Drew nodded in understanding whilst Soup– well, he was Soup, “Oh shit! I thought all them talked real classy.”

My brow rose all on its own, “This your way of saying I’m not classy?”

His eyes grew huge as he realised his mistake, stuttering to correct himself and stumbling ever so to be sure of it, “Nah, no! What? I jus’– I meant it like–” He spluttered before he finally landed on, “I said you had a real pretty voice!”

Snorting, I let myself smile which appeared to ease the man’s evident worry over having offended me and had the remaining two snickering between themselves. He shot the pair of them a scathing look and elbowed Drew, who in return just laughed that little bit harder.

“Shut it.”

I almost felt bad. Peering back over at Soup, I eventually spoke, “You’re all good. I was just teasing.”

“Teasin’.” Soup seemed to linger on the word, twirling it over his tongue and around his mouth as he muttered the word over again, lower lip turning itself out in thought. “Dope.”

Marshall shook his head with a huff before his eyes eventually landed on me once more, I widened my own in jest, but the wordless moment was cut short by D. “Aye, you ain’t the same Elia that sung Sinnerman are you?”

My head jolted back ever so slightly in surprise. Sinnerman had been an early days cover, one from when I’d been busking in pubs way back when and of the few that had been filmed on a shaky camcorder and uploaded to the internet by some random patron. I hadn’t thought of the video in well over a decade, but remembered it had managed to gather a large enough viewing at some point that it had dragged more people into the pub to see me.

Fishmouthing slightly, I nodded just the once. “Yeah. God, yeah. Wow, you saw that?”

Marshall’s brow had since furrowed, watching the conversation play out between us just as Drew’s face brightened considerably. “Hell yeah I saw that! That shit was cold, girl. Remembered hearin’ your voice and thinkin’ 'she’s gone make it someday.” He told me, making me flush a tad at the praise, “‘n I was right.” He continued on, nudging his chin over in my direction with a thoughtful smile, “Knew I recognised you from somewhere. Saw one of your shows when I was last in LA, couple years back now though.”

I actually giggled at that, fingers jumping up to cover my mouth whilst I shook my head slightly, “That’s insane.”

“Hold up,” Soup interrupted, a bemused look marring his face, “So you famous too? You ‘member how I just said you was fine, yeah?”

“Soup, man.” Marshall warned around a put upon sigh.

“I’m jus–”

“Just sayin’. Yeah, we know.” Drew finished for him, smirking as he rolled his brown eyes.

Chuckling, I went a little easy on the former, “I’ll make sure to remember.”

Soup perked up at that, tossing the other two a prideful look, whilst Em’s gaze turned Heavenwards. 

It was then that Drew turned to pick up the equipment he’d since dropped, the three of us following him as he spoke, “So what you doin’ down in these parts anyway? Figured you’d be workin’ or some shit ‘cause last we saw you was way back in December.” He threw a couple of cables Soup’s way, huffing out a soft chuckle when the man fumbled to catch them, earning himself a glare he didn’t respond to. “Made a fuckton of sales then though. Got me thinkin’ maybe you should show your face ‘round here more often. We all know those magazines don’t want it no more.”

Marshall flipped him off but came to a stand beside him, reaching inside the box to help out. “Still as unfunny as ever, D.” He replied, handing me a couple of packs to hold onto whilst he grabbed a few more, “Was showin’ Ms. London over there the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d stop in to see how you two knuckleheads were doin’ without me.”

“Hey we survived this long!” Soup exclaimed to him around a laugh, struggling with a mic stand he’d since dragged up onto the stage.

“Don’t I know it.” Drew murmured in a funny sort of self-suffering way that made me grin, “You take her to Cow’s head?”

The question had Marshall rolling his eyes as the man sorted through the packs he’d gathered, me aiding with the process whilst I listened. “Shithole’s gone be there longer than I ever will be, figured I’d have time.”

D blew out a chuckle, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Red.” I mentioned, handing back the pack Marshall had attempted to give me, fingers brushing over the back of his as he dipped his chin in a show of acknowledgement. “What’s the Cow’s head anyway?”

“Old ice-cream stand on Mack. Used to use it during drivebys or to just deal. You remember Jimmy? He still works that corner.” Drew explained, aiming that last bit over at Em, which ended up making the man chuckle around a small tutting sound. D continued on though, for my supposed benefit, “But mostly it was just a place people got caught hookin’ up behind.”

Feeling bold, I was quick to quip, “And I paint you as that type of girl, do I, D?”

Widening my stare up at the man when his head darted backwards with a shuttered expression, Marshall could only snicker beside me. “Awh, come on, be nice.” He said, though his smile was jeering, “I tell you, Drew’s a real feminist.”

Sharing a smile with him, I was quick to look back at the man in question, who in turn merely tossed another pack at Em, who narrowly avoided it hitting him upside the head. “Asshole.” Drew sniped, “A guy dates one vegan chick and a brother never lets him live it down.”

“It weren’t ‘cause she didn’t like meat, man!” Soup added his two cents in, smile smug as he propped himself up on the mic stand, “It was ‘cause she didn’t - like - meat!”

Marshall’s loud laugh had me looking up, instantly invested in watching the way his eyes closed with the action and how his cheeks then appled. He caught me watching him when he lowered his head and rolled his eyes fondly at his friend, figuring I’d only been staring because I hadn’t caught onto Soup’s joke, “Next person she dated was this vampy chick who worked at Chilly's.”

My mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape before I was tittering away too, much to Drew’s obvious displeasure, the man waved the three of us away with a lazy hand before he carried on hooking up a couple mics.

It continued on that way for a short while, me listening to the trios odd stories and funny tales from their youth whilst Drew and Soup grew comfortable enough to ask me a little more about myself. Though both of them were wholly invested in the story of how Marshall and I met, Soup latching onto it before I could think about where the explanation might lead.

“Come on then, woman.” The man was quick to start, jerking his head at me in a sudden rush of enthusiasm as he jumped past the DJ booth, “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

My forehead pinched in confusion as I pushed myself up from where I’d been crouching down by an amp. It was an older model and the fuse at the back really needed to be resoldered, but it would work for a while longer. I looked over at the man and his newfound excitement, brows furrowing further, “What?”

Soup just waved me over though to where he was now centred midstage. “You heard me, get yo ass up here!”

I could only look to Em then and when he didn’t offer me anything other than an amused shrug, cheek twitching, I turned to Drew.

The tall man simply raised his hands before he shrugged too, smiling ever so sweetly. “Need to mic check anyway,” He mentioned, jutting his chin over to where Soup continued to stand, “I propose a battle.”

“Hell yeah, man!” Soup hollered loudly, already moving to grab a set of mics from the front panel, sending an audible squeak through the room that had most of its occupants wincing. 

“Not happening.” I quickly shot down, shaking my head as I moved away from the amp– and therefore the stage. 

“Why, you scared?” Soup prodded mockingly, earning a low ‘ooh’ from both Marshall and Drew. 

“Terrified.” Came my deadened retort, before I chewed at the inside of my cheek, gaze flitting back and forth between Soup and the duo perched by the side of the deck. “There’s no way I’m doing it.” I added, furthering my previous answer.

“Don’t have to be long. A minute max.” Drew assured me, already moving to work the amp that the mics were connected to. My eyes widened at the move, flicking back to Em in one final plea.

“Don’t look at me.” The older man laughed, his blue eyes shining. “I already done did my time here.”

Way to rub it in, I thought to myself before looking towards the stage with a pinched expression. 

One final glance between the three men and I knew I couldn’t say no, not without a fight at the very least, so I let go of the heavy breath I was holding and took a big step up onto the stage’s panelling, holding out a hand to Soup for the remaining microphone. “Don’t say I never did nothing.” I heard myself say, earning a round of chuckles just as D finished setting up and Soup started to stretch theatrically. “I hate you all.”

“El-i-a.” Marshall started up and immediately my head snapped over to find him stood by the front of the stage, hands circling his mouth. “El-i-a!” He chanted again right as a steady beat came through the overhead speakers. I felt my stomach flip and was quick to shoot the man a scathing glare, not that Em minded it, continuing to grin up at me. Smug as could be.

It was that, I supposed, which had me forcing back the bile that was now building, enough to try and shake the nerves away too. I could do it, I breathed in deeply, it was just a little fun. Nothing unlike what Danny and I used to do as kids, making breakfast whilst mum was dead asleep in the next room or off getting high someplace else.

“You ready, Limey?” Soup snarked, but it only proved to further stoke that fire that had started. 

“You first.” 

Soup dipped his head before he started bouncing it to the rhythm, torso soon following it. I tensed as I waited for his first line, sole focus on the man stood across from me and wondering how the fuck people did this in front of such a huge crowd. All I could do was pray that I didn’t embarrass myself too much.

“See, this here is a little white girl, 

Who’s momma told her she could have the whole wide-world,

But just ‘cause she got Slim wrapped ‘round her fin-ger,

Don’t mean that my boy’s ever gonna ring her,

He’s a wraith, yeah, which means he never ling-ers,

Have her sleepin’ in his bed ‘fore he finds another singer.

And that’s not on me clownin’ girl, I’ve seen it,

He’ll wrap and tap, and then he’ll jus’ go ‘n leave it,

You cute and all but you ain’t nothin’ spec-ial,

We all know white girls ain’t on a brother’s lev-el,

So while you thinkin’ you out here makin’ it big,

Jus’ remember who’s runnin’ this motherfuckin’ gig.”

Pursing my lips to keep from grinning too broadly– an act to keep up the facade that this was a very real battle and that his words had actually stung me– I then booed the performance whilst the rest of the room applauded, a few laughs and cheers echoing out around us. “Alright, I see. That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Soup shrugged cooly, though his smile was wide and teasing. “I went easy on you, girl.”

I hummed disbelievingly, then looked over my shoulder at Drew, who nodded in understanding, moving to continue the beat. I sucked in a small breath and attempted to feel the rhythm, the way it pulsed beneath my feet and how it seemed to jump between my ribs. 

It was a split second decision I made to glance over at Marshall in the next moment which came and although he stood surly, arms crossed over his chest whilst he waited for me to start, his eyes were watching, anticipating. Between us we’d yet to work on any real music and so I figured this could be my shot to show him what I was really made of.

I inhaled.

“Man, you know for a rapper I think you’re missing one restriction,

The same type they tell kids is in the terms ‘n conditions, 

When they try and ride the big boy rides at the theme park, 

Only to find out that they went and fucking missed the mark.

I mean, I guess you’re kinda cute for a– short guy,

But kings are made, baby, so I won’t spin you a lie,

‘Bout how it’s okay to only miss a couple inches,

‘Cause it's one thing height wise, but your dick looks like the Grinches.

And I know I should probably stop before I hurt your ego,

But with a name like Soup that ships since sailed, amigo,

Like I can’t help but wonder who’d your mother hate more?

You, or that motherfucking grocery store.”

A loud chorus of applause went up as soon as the beat dropped, leaving me looking back at Soup’s slack jaw in the stooped light. It was only when Drew whooped right by my ear that I realised he’d jumped past the booth to drag both Soup and I into his hold, shaking our shoulders hard enough to rattle the pair of us. 

I let the mic slip slightly in my hold, arm dropping to my side as I casted a slow glance out at the audience, finding that a few more people had slipped into the room since we’d started the stupid battle. My chest tightened a little at the realisation but it was easy to let go of the anxiety when Drew was all but bouncing beside me.

“Damn, girl! That was cold, honestly thought Soup would have you there.” D grinned, looking down at me whilst Soup managed to release himself from the taller man’s hold. “You did anything like this before?” He asked and I had to shake my head.

“Hang on. You just butchered and served me up on a plate, ‘n now you gone deny not ever battlin’ before?” Soup spluttered, eyes wide as dinner plates, enough though to match his growing grin, “Woman, you don’t expect me to really believe you.”

Laughing, I tried to rally, but it was then that another body joined the masses, sliding in beside me. It was their appearance that had Drew’s arm loosening its hold on me. 

“She ain’t lyin’. I’ve heard her spit a little before, I won’t deny it, but that was some next level shit.” Marshall commented, absorbing all of my attention. “You went in hard.” He laughed incredulously, eyes roaming over me as though he was taking me in again in a whole other way. I felt my cheeks heat but couldn't decide whether or not it was down to the sudden attention we’d garnered or just him. 

“Hard?” Drew cut in, “Girl killed him!”

Soup shoved him as payback but it wasn’t enough to really trip the man. “I said I went easy!”

D hummed sarcastically, dragging it out long enough to earn himself another hearty shove before he then chuckled, “Face it, Soup. You got yo short ass handed to you.”

“Sorry, man.” Marshall stepped in before it could escalate and it was then he draped his arm over my shoulders, drawing me in enough to have me leaning against his side. “D ain’t wrong. Best hope no one breathes a word, otherwise you gone be fighting for your life in the next battle.”

I rolled my eyes at the sudden dramatics, and again when Soup’s expression troubled slightly, I shook my head. “I’m gonna say it again, I hate all of you.”

The words earned me a few laughs and the feel of Em’s chin coming to rest atop my head.

–

The drive back was made up of a dull buzzing tension, most of which emanated from me, seeing as I was still riding out the waves of anxiety I’d experienced throughout the battle and then after. I’d gotten a few nods of approval once I’d stepped off the stage under Em’s arm, Soup still echoing his previous sentiment of having gone easy on the new girl, and then a couple people's praises when Marshall had finally decided to head on out, claiming that we had places to be. 

So he’d said his goodbyes to his longtime friends, with both Soup and Drew managing to worm their way into my followers list on Twitter and having put their numbers in my phone. They’d claimed it was so I always knew that I had a place to come visit if I ever found myself back in Detroit and so I echoed the notion, saying that they could have tickets to any show they liked and a tour of London if they ever made the trip. Something which had seemed to please Marshall, seeing as his smile stuck all the way back up to the car. 

“I still can’t believe I did that.” I breathed once we were a little way away, The Shelter less than a dot behind us in the rearview mirror. 

Marshall blew out a small chuckle, “Why not?”

Shrugging, I found that I didn’t really have an obvious answer to his question. “I don’t know, just not my thing, you know? Like I never pictured myself doing anything like that.”

He made a short hum in retort, “I get that. Still, it was a sight to see.” He snickered after, mouth lifting into what I’d label a sarky smile, “Doubt Soup will live it down for a while.”

I winced before eventually laughing too, thinking back on the entire experience. “They’re good guys, real nice. It’s been a while since I really had fun like that.”

Marshall’s head turned to look over at me, eyes lingering on mine. “Me too.”

The smile that took over my face truly was unavoidable and so I looked towards the passenger window in hopes to shield him from it. “You do that often then?” I asked once a half a dozen shop fronts had passed us by, “Drag people down there in hopes they’ll destroy what’s left of Soup’s reputation.” I added teasingly when all he’d done was gift me a look of vague confusion. 

The skin between his brows slackened in understanding before he then shook his head, “Nah, reckon you’re the first.”

I blinked slowly at that revelation. “But you said–”

Marshall glanced over at me but was quick to hone his focus back on the road. “Know what I said. Also mentioned that it never worked out, remember?”

I did, remember that is. And immediately thought back to the earlier conversation we’d shared on the car ride over to his old home and how the people he’d let in never seemed to get why all this mattered so much. “Was that what Soup was on about then? When he claimed people thought you had a type.”

Em had to think back on that one and was quiet for a second or two before he worked his jaw. I wondered if he was reminded of the fact that once again he’d failed to mention that I wasn't in fact his girl. I didn’t ask about it.

“Nah, I guess that’s down to them havin’ met a couple of the women I’ve dated.” Marshall evaded slightly, confusing me enough to prod.

“What do you mean?”

He was silent for a long moment, but I allowed him it, figuring that whether he answered or not would be down to him. I wasn’t the type to force shit out of a person. 

“After Kim,” He started slowly, already assuming that I knew most of it, which wasn’t incorrect, if you listened to the guy’s music then you probably knew more than needed. “Lot of the girls I was seeing were fling type shit. Superficial, you know? A couple models, other famous people wantin’ to hop on the wagon. Tried to date a few women who weren’t immersed in that lifestyle after rehab and my divorce, but it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”

I chewed on my inner cheek, pondering over the string of women who had been welcomed into Marshall’s life. Still stuck on the thought that Soup reckoned I was different to them just from looking at me. ‘Cause see, I knew I was probably overthinking this but I wasn’t horrible looking, had to be at least a little attractive to sell albums with my face on, but I was far from being that of a model. That much I knew. In truth, I didn’t even know why I was so hung up on the thought, me and Em were just friends, that was all.

“Still, I figured that maybe Kim just fucked all that up for me. Hard to trust, to let people in. ‘Sposed it was easier just havin’ people leave before they could fuck me up any further.” Marshall explained, none the wiser to my thoughts as he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, “Drew and Soup, they’ve been ‘round for a long while, before Dre, ‘fore I ever even thought too hard about rappin’. They saw me through it all. I guess when you came over they kind of figured that shit had to be different, I ain’t never brought no one ‘round here to them, let alone a girl they’d never met.”

I ran my tongue over my lower lip as I listened, it wasn’t a complete answer to my question— why Soup had figured Marshall had a type and me being far from it— but it was him opening up and I wasn’t about to spit in his face and get all prickly over it.

“Should I feel a sense of privilege then?” I found myself poking fun at him instead, an effort to get away from the handful of ideas that had started to plague my mind. “‘Cause I feel like I should.”

Em laughed, the gesture light, easy. It felt like the visit to Saint Andrew’s had done us both some good. “Fuckin’ right. Shelter alone is somethin’ I don’t visit all that often. D and Soup are just an added nuisance, I guess.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled in return, shaking my head at his words, knowing just how much bullshit they held after having witnessed the relationship the three of them shared. “You love ‘em.”

With a grunt, Marshall then shrugged around a quiet smirk. “Come on, today’s been all about me, I’m sick of it. Don’t tell me you ain’t got no mad stories about a couple crappy exes.”

It was an invite as well as a dip into a pool of unasked questions, a topic where Em didn’t seem too keen on overstepping. But he was right, he’d given me a lot today and that meant something.

“I don’t know what to say really.” I answered him with a subtle shrug, “Never really had an ex.”

Marshall almost came to a full stop with the way his foot stuttered over the brake. The action would have earned us a lot of loud beeps, maybe even a small collision if we hadn’t been the only ones driving down this particular side road.

“Shit, Marshall! What the fuck?” I exclaimed in one fluid breath, releasing my hold on the car door I’d gone and grabbed onto in my haste to stop my body from propelling forward into the dash. I fixed him with a wide eyed stare, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why’d I do that? Why’d you say that?” He countered, as if he was making any sense at all. 

“Say what!” I asked him, voice shrill and still a decibel too high after the sudden scare, but Marshall appeared mostly unphased by it, having started driving again despite everything. 

He scoffed, “That someone as pretty as you don’t have no exes.” 

I paused, noting that the way my heart stuttered was very similar to the way the car had, suddenly and then all at once. But although I was surprised by the compliment, I forced myself to relax a tad, ignoring how my pulse jumped rapidly in my throat– down to the scare or his words I wouldn’t ever know. 

“I don’t.” I told him point blank, hoping that the heat I felt in my face was just that and not me blushing. “I mean, I've had little flings and the odd date, but nothing like— I don’t know, nothing too real or long lasting.” Describing that fact was more than a little embarrassing, I wouldn’t lie, it always made me feel less than in a strange way. 

“There ain’t no way.” Marshall continued on, unknowingly driving that particular wedge in further I supposed. “There’s gotta be somebody.”

I sighed. “No. But if you want a story, the last person I was seeing was this singer, we worked together on my last album, flirted, fucked and then went on a couple dates. He stayed with me in London for a while but ended up sleeping with one of my close friends on my sofa, so, you know.”

I let go of the rest of breath I’d been holding onto then, shoulders slumping a little with it, before I suddenly remembered the next part to that particular tale. 

“Oh! And he also decided to dedicate the whole B side of his next album to it. Can you believe that? The B side, Marshall. I mean fair enough, write about an experience and what fucking not, but the B side? That’s just kicking a person whilst they’re already down, no?” I added, shaking my head in hopes to get rid of the memory, but no such luck. “He was the one who did that film too, um— I can’t for the life of me remember the name of it, but when they won that Academy award last year he mentioned me as the ‘one who got away’ and then thanked me for being the reason he was able to channel so much of his ability into the character.”

I actually had to laugh at the reminder, having been utterly fuming when the whole thing had gone down. But I guessed that enough time had passed since then that I only questioned the very decision I’d made to have let that arsehole and his tiny dick anywhere near me whenever his name was mentioned. 

“Shit’s messed up.” Em blew out, eyes alert and flitting back and forth between me and the road.

Snorting in reply to that, I couldn’t help but shoot him a wry grin. “No shit. But yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never really let anyone get too close, I ‘spose. Just easier to keep people at arm's length than give them the chance to hurt me.”

“Damn,” Marshall said, “talk about daddy issues.”

Surprised by his words, a laugh bubbled up out of me, “Like you’re one to talk.”

Em’s lips pursed in an attempt to dim his amusement to that, turning the wheel with a single motion and letting it drag back over his palm when we turned onto the next street. “Still. It’s hard to believe.”

I gave a soft chuckle in reply, letting my head loll against the headrest so that I could bat my lashes in his direction, “Why, ‘cause I’m so pretty?” I teased him, recalling his earlier statement.

Marshall’s head shake was slight but visible, as was the tiny curve his mouth made.

I reached out to poke his shoulder, smirking now. “Come on, say it again.”

He swatted my hand away before I could continue on with my fun, “Anyone ever tell you you’re also annoyin’ as fuck?”

“Yes.” I replied easily enough, “No one’s ever called me pretty though.”

“Liar.”

I laughed, the bright sound filling up the car. “Yeah, but at least I’m pretty too.” He went to open his mouth after I said that but I beat him to the jump, “Can’t take it back now you’ve already said it!”

Tutting, Marshall had to shake his head again, eyes flitting over to my wide smile, trailing the length of it. “Such a shithead.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, two?”

“Maybe.” I shot back, pointing over at him. “What’s that make you then, if I’m two and you think I’m pretty?”

Marshall caught my finger with his free hand in retaliation and clung to it as he resettled his arm back in his lap, “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Least I’m not a creep.”

“Asshole.” 

“Dickhead.”

“Bitch.” He quipped, eyes gleaming as they darted over to meet mine.

I shook my head in hopes to hide my growing grin, but it was then that I instantly perked up, gaze catching on the large allotment sat up ahead. “Oh, let’s go there!”

“What, to Trader Joe's?” Marshall voiced his confusion at the sudden switch in topic, though his expression was much softer than I had expected in the face of my excitement when I peered back around to look over at him.

“Yeah, can we?” I pushed, an idea now blossoming. “I wanna get some ingredients, bake something nice before Rosie gets home.”

Lifting a single brow, Marshall’s eyes flickered rapidly between my own for a split second. He was quiet before he eventually flipped his indicator to switch lanes, “You gone bake me a cake just ‘cause I called you pretty?”

A full blown grin broke out on my face at that and it was too hard to hide this one from Marshall, seeing as I’d been looking right at him. “No, ‘cause you’re gonna help me.”

[harveywritings92]

{R/n and Soap having lunch outside of a 7/11.]

R/n: I'm gonna get a pet bird.

Soap: Don't get a bird.

R/n: Why not?

Soap: Because they're weird. I dunno. I can't relate to a bird. They're so far removed. They've got different chromosomes... and they come from eggs...

R/n: They have faces.

Soap: So do cockroaches. *takes a bite out of his hot-dog*  Whub re ya g-ing do wib a brb? (” What are you going to do wit a bird?”)

R/n: I'm gonna stick it in a cage and feed it, what do you think I'm gonna do wit’ it?

Soap: Well I think you should get a bird, at least get one you can eat.

R/n: I'm gonna get a friend! I'm not going to eat my friend!

Soap: They have brains the size of pistachios... it's not smart enough to be your friend.

R/n: You don't know what you're talking about! I saw this special on PBS called "Animal Miracles" and they did a dramatic re-enactment about a guy being robbed, and he had a parrot or a cockatoo or something, and that bird lost it's shit when its owner was attacked. It opened up it's cage...

Soap, cutting-in: Why would you put a bird in a cage if it can open the door?

R/n, getting frustrated: Where else are you going to put it?Anyway, it opened up it's cage and went crazy, pecked out the robbers eyes, scratched his face up like he was Tippi Hedren or some shit. And don't you tell me that's not friendship.

Soap, thinks as he sips his slurpee:.....

Soap: How big was this parrot?

R/n: I don't know, parrot size.

Soap: Well a parrot can't take on a full-grown man unless that man is a giant pussy...

R/n: I didn't say the parrot won! The robber stabbed it with a fork and killed it's owner. The bird's dead.

Soap:...

Soap: So why are you gettin’ a bird?

R/n, now very frustrated: It's not about national security, you stupid mother fucker, I'm gonna get a friend!

Soap, puts his hands up in surrender: Alright, jeez...

[luveline]

Could we get a second part of your recent fic where reader catches their cold + being tired from work and maybe even Eddie having to call her work/go in to get her from work since she insists on not being able to miss a day perhaps? :,)

thank you for your request! eddie and roan fem!reader

Eddie's expecting your call. 

"Munson Junior, it's for you!" 

He scoots out from under the truck he's assessing as quickly as he can. He hadn't touched anything, and if he had it wouldn't matter — the phone in the shop is layered in years of grease, mud, and sweat. He tries not to touch his face with it. 

"Hello?" he asks. 

"Hi, handsome."

"What's up? How's your head?" 

You sigh softly. "About that. I have like, an aura migraine? I think? Is that what they're called?" 

"What's the matter?" 

"It's not too bad, really, it's probably not that. The– the lights are really bright. I was gonna go home but I don't think I can drive." 

Eddie looks behind him into the mechanics. There's enough guys in today to survive without him, especially if he sweet talks Wayne into picking up his slack. 

"So you want me to come and get you?" 

He can hear you taking a breath coloured in hesitance. "Would that be okay?" 

"Well, it'll cost you. What have you got?" 

You audibly move, phone shuffled against fabric or hair. "Uh, I got a bag of cough drops, a rewards card for the cake emporium, lip smackers, and… uh, one of Roan's socks. Huh." 

"How many stamps on the reward card?" 

You laugh but stop short, a low groan sounding down the line. 

"I'll be right there," he promises. "Wait for me by the main door, okay? I'll idle."

It doesn't take much convincing for Wayne to agree to do Eddie's last oil change, so Eddie clocks out early. The drive to your work is out of the way, and by the time he gets there he's full to bursting with worry. He idles right outside the building and sure enough, you stumble out, hand over your eyes to hide from the sun. He frowns as you round the hood and climb into the passenger seat. 

"Hey," he says softly. 

"Hi, handsome." 

"You okay?" 

Your face crumples up. "Don't ask me, okay? I was keeping it together 'til you asked me." 

Eddie leans over the console to kiss you, taking your cheek into his hand. His forehead presses to yours without force. One kiss, two.

"You're okay," he says against your lips. 

"I feel so shitty," you say. "Is this how it felt for you?" 

Eddie reluctantly moves back into his seat, releasing the strain of the belt against his chest. "I don't know, I don't remember now, it was a week ago. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm gonna take care of you." 

"I wasn't worried," you mumble. 

Your eyes are still closed, your shoulder pulled up to your cheek defensively. Eddie pulls your seat belt around you and starts back down the road he came. You're quiet to Hawkins Elementary, little more than tense breaths. He squeezes your thigh when he can spare his hand, and rubs your shoulder after he's parked. 

"I'm gonna go get Ro. Don't go anywhere." 

You smile. It's like a shot of relief. 

Roan's in her usual good spirits, chattering and swinging her hand in his, though when she sees you in the passenger seat she bursts into a run, dragging Eddie across the parking lot, her hand reaching for the door. 

"Roan, she's not feeling good," Eddie says hurriedly, before Roan can throw herself at the door and harass you with love. 

"Oh no." 

"Uh huh. Be gentle, okay? She's got the world's worst brain freeze." 

You must hear their voices, turning your head as they approach, squaring your pained expression into something more neutral. You prop open the door. 

"Hey, there's my girl," you coo. 

"Dad says your brain is freezed," Roan says, stepping one foot into the car's footwell so she can rest her arms in your lap. 

"Too many slurpees at work," you say, nodding. "But it's worth it, 'cause I get to come home early and see you. I missed you." 

"Yeah! You can watch Princess Polly now, you missed it every day." 

Her voice is high and sweet, and every word she says makes you smile, though your left eye has started to squint closed. "Exactly, bub. There's always something good in the bad." 

You don't really pay attention to Princess Polly. Eddie forces some electrolytes into your system via a brightly coloured vitamin drink you'd bought for him only a week ago, and after that you sort of just slump. Roan doesn't seem very happy. 

"You're not watching," she says, pouting. 

You reach for her blindly. Your hand finds her elbow. 

"Sorry, babe." 

"Let's give her some space, okay?" Eddie asks gently, not wanting to spark any tears. "She has a headache like I did, remember? When your tummy hurt?" 

Roan frowns more and goes to move away, but you peel open your dry eyes to send her a reassuring smile. 

"You don't have to go anywhere. I'm sorry I'm not watching the TV, just the light's hurting my eyes. I'd love a hug if you want one, though?" 

Roan doesn't think about it. She steps across the couch cushions into your lap, curling into a ball against your tummy. "The light hurts?" 

"A little bit." 

Roan looks up at you, then Eddie. "Well, we should turn it off." 

"Oh, no, that's okay. I'll just close my eyes." 

Roan looks at Eddie. Eddie shrugs at her. "It's okay," he says. 

Roan ends up hugging your arm with her entire body, eyes on the TV. Eddie doesn't make dinner — he can feel a takeout order impending. He sits in the seat beside you and delights at your body slowly gravitating to his, your cheeks finding a home on top of his shoulder. You hug Roan like she's a hot water bottle and it sucks —you're still sick— but everyone's okay. 

"Can I get you something?" he asks quietly. 

"Magic spell?" you ask. 

He kisses the top of your head tenderly. 

You rub your cheek into his t-shirt. "Cured me. Thanks, Eds." 

[witchwyfe]

heaven to touch [sh]

| pairing: steve harrington x female reader

| précis: making out in steve’s car :) , allusions to smut

| word count: 792

“Y’sure no one can see us?” You wonder, not a hint of concern lacing your tone. You’re too busy making yourself comfortable on your boyfriend’s lap, thighs dragging against his.

“Positive babe,” He sighs, not in exasperation, but at the feeling of you in his lap, your warm weight evoking a spark in him. 

On one of Steve’s rare days off, the two of you had spent the day together, and on the ride back from the movies, you’d decided you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. So now, the two of you sat in his driveway, sun sinking prettily in the sky, as you cram together in the driver’s seat.  

A soft sigh flutters from your lips, brushing against Steve’s lips before you lean in to kiss him. His large palms hold your waist, pressing you against him. The warmth from his hands radiates into your skin, heat and close proximity making you feel woozy and lightheaded. 

Steve loves the way you’re straddling him, revels in it, and he drags you higher up his lap, as close as can be. You remove your lips from his, relocating to his neck. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, in attempt to hold in the groans and soft sighs from escaping his lips. The gentle drag of your teeth against the sensitive skin of his neck rips a hiss from between his teeth, eyes screwed shut. You laugh, lips still on his neck, pleased with the effect you have on him. 

“No need to keep quiet,” You say breathily. “Wanna hear you baby.”

He whines, the reverberations of your laughter hitting his neck. Your hand pushes firmly on his shoulder, your other hand gripping a handful of his hair to force his head back. Your lips make their way to the now exposed part of his neck and jaw, mouth pulling together to leave a little mark behind on Steve’s skin.

“Baby, baby,” He whimpers, fingers curling into his grip on your hips. Your lips meet the spot behind his ear, sucking the skin ever so gently. You coax another whine from him, as well as utterings of your name.

“Baby, please,” He’s breathing heavily, head thrown back against the car seat head rest.

“What is it Steve?” You wonder breathily, lips still on his skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I-I,” Steve stumbles over his words, thoughts of you clouding any coherent thing his brain could conjure up. You chuckle darkly, index finger toying with the neckline of his cotton shirt.

“C’mon baby,” You start, lips mouthing a path down his neck. “just gotta tell me.” You punctuate your words with a quick drag of teeth against his jugular, the lightest touch possible, but it still makes him shiver. The warm press of your palms on his neck makes him hot, sweat dribbling down his temple.

Finally, finally your mouth hovers above his, warm breath against his lips, lingering less than an inch away. 

“Baby, please.” He whines, eyes welling up in desperation. His lips are bitten pink, cheeks flushed and sweaty and you smirk, running a hand through his hair.

“Patience, pretty boy,” You simper, lips at his clavicle. Polished fingernails dance across his chest, mouth working another dark spot onto his neck. Steve squirms, realizing just how badly he wants to be kissed, needs to.

Once you’re ready, you slowly lower your lips to Steve’s, taking them in a gentle kiss. He sighs, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips on his. You taste like cherry Chapstick and the Slurpee you had earlier. His tongue swipes your lower lip, asking for permission, when you part your lips, he sighs again, heart thrumming against his chest.

Steve’s hands find your waist, curling in desire. You kiss him harder, passion bleeding through with every touch. Your movements melt into his, until you don’t feel like two separates, but one. Everything disappears, Steve’s thoughts and feelings are flooded with you, your scent in his nose, your taste in his mouth, and only your name on his lips.

“I love you,” You sigh against him, your knees weakening when he delicately bites your lip. Steve’s hold on you is firm, but gentle, as if you’re made of glass and he doesn’t want to drop you. But it tightens ever so slightly when those words fall from your lips.

“I love you,” Steve groans when you roll your hips against him, warmth spreading in his stomach and chest.

You both jump when your back presses the horn, ripping you out of your desire-clouded bubble.

Steve pulls back with a giddy yet sheepish smile, cheeks flushed.

"Maybe we should continue this inside?" He wonders cheekily.

“Yeah, but hurry up handsome, need to feel you.”

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[gasolinerainbowreads]

↓ ICON LEGEND ↓

🌈 = title 🪆 = series, multiple parts, etc. 💎 = hidden gem/should have more reblogs/followers imo 🔋 = make sure your vibrator is charged before reading 😈 = Horny Demon Hours™ approved 🥹 = hurts so good/ouch, my feelings 🧠 = did somethin to my brain/altered my brain chemistry

Here's what I read in September along with a comment/thought/favorite excerpt:

@atticrissfinch

🌈 Now I See Daylight ⇨ 🪆🥹 we get punished, and we do not like it. This made me feel VERY BRATTY reading it lmaoooo. DO NOT GIVE ME THE SILENT TREATMENT, DADDY.

@softlyspector

🌈 Moss & Mushrooms ⇨ 😈🧠 IT’S GIVING THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER WITH BONUS DICK DOWNS, AND I AM GOBBLING IT UP! SUPERB. 🌈 Blush ⇨ 🪆🥹🧠 IMPECCABLE. INSANELY IMMERSIVE. SICKENING TALENT. MAKES ME WANT TO GO TAKE A NAP IN A MUD PIT. GETTING THE SIDE OF THE OREO THAT HAS THE CRÈME FILLING ON THE WAFER. YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF SLURPEE IS READY TO BE DISPENSED. YOUR HANGNAIL DOESN’T TEAR OFF. YOUR SHOELACES DON’T DRAG ON THE GROUND BC THEY’RE TOO LONG. THIS IS THAT. NO I WON’T BE EXPLAINING ANY OF IT.

@thetriumphantpanda

This series really covers a whole lotta kinks for me lmao. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Creampies. Daddy kink. 🌈 Come Away with Me (Tuesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Imagine this is it?” He mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, leaning forward, “Imagine the time it takes is the time I fuck you against a tree like this.”  🌈 Come Away with Me (Wednesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Gonna fill me up, daddy?” You ask, the word slipping out of your mouth before you can catch it.  🌈 Come Away with Me (Thursday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “You’re in love with me, aren’t you?” He asks quietly, it’s soft, there isn’t an ounce of judgement or remorse to be found in his voice, and it’s not there in his eyes when you push yourself off his lap and turn to look at him. “Isn’t it obvious?” You ask him, “You’re in love with me too.” You don’t accuse him, it’s a statement of fact, because you know he’s been in love with you since the night he stayed when you were trying for Joshua.

@joelscruff

🌈 Beyond Infatuation ⇨ 🔋🧠 “Jesus,” Tommy mutters, and you open your eyes enough to see them both staring at your fucked-out hole, watching Joel’s come dribble downward into the sheets, “Filled her up real good.”

@swiftispunk

🌈 In My Hometown Headcanons ⇨ 🪆🥹 Omg it's the Lil Sebastian of Joel fics 💕 he can hardly remember how it felt to fear this, to fear being with you. now, he can’t shut up about you, giddy every time he gets to call you that word. it’s such a simple thing, reminds him of being young - “my girlfriend’s pickin’ sarah up tonight,” “my girlfriend chose this shirt for me,” “my girlfriend and i are goin’ out later” - doesn’t matter the context, he loves referring to you that way, even if it’s a little trivial maybe, even if it doesn’t quite capture how deep his feelings really run for you. if he’s honest, it might be that he likes the word “my” better than “girlfriend.” 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 6 - Savour ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Get you a man who blows your back out so good he blows his own back out, too lmaoooooo 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 3 bonus ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹🧠 my brain skipped the tracks on this one, babes. derailed me for a hot minute. the whole in the doorframe thing just makes my brain go fucking static. 🌈 Mad Love drabble ⇨🔋😈🧠 “kill him,” you say and joel finally looks over at you, sees you with your hand over your cunt, another smirk playing at his lips at the sight.

@ezrasbirdie

my bb rly scratchin that somnophilia itch with these 🌈 Claim ⇨🔋😈 “That’s right, baby, that’s right. Goddamn, you sleep heavy,” he murmurs. He slides another finger in and makes the same noise, fucking you gently with both of them, pulling your legs open further, and repositioning himself between them.  “One more, sweetheart, one more for me,” he says. A harsh sigh emerges from you as he pushes a third digit inside of you.  It almost hurts. You want it to hurt more.  🌈 More ⇨ 🔋😈 the debauchery is unhinged and perfect

@toxicanonymity

🌈 Clock ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 this lil dehydrated, crybaby bitch is the loml some days. 🌈 Needs ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 Part of her "Finally Fucking Friday". Virginity loss. Soft!Joel. 🌈 Fires ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 POV switching done well. inadvertently hilarious reader.

@sugarcoated-lame

🌈 untitled ⇨💎🔋🥹 idgaf if this isn't technically a proper fic. it's more of a ramble/thots type thing, but i enjoyed it immensely and am putting it on this list because it made me horny and also bc i fucking want to.

@gracieispunk

🌈 Bloody ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹 my fave menace is back aka tenant girl who is innocent and perfect. the panic at being in missionary sent me. 🌈 Heat Wave ⇨🔋 Joel is just ssooo thoughtful when he hears you moaning in your sleep and decides to help. What a gentleman.

@millerscoffee

🌈 Heat Lightning ⇨ 💎🔋😈🥹 sub!Joel. mommy kink. aftercare.

@bageldaddy

🌈 I Know It When I See It, Pt 5 ⇨🪆🔋😈🥹 HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER?!?!?! --- also, i want to punch the fucking air over the fact that i cannot go onto pornhub and type in "Lucky+Texas+bondage" and have this come up. life is NOT FAIR.

@frannyzooey FREE MY BITCH FROM TUMBLR JAIL!

🌈 In The Dark blurb ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 *screams into the void* --- hot. HOT. I'm obsessed with In The Dark (go read that entire series right now if you haven't. It's so beyond amazing.). This was just icing on the cake. 🌈 Squirming ⇨🔋 the way I would be THRASHING so I could get a "goodnight treat" lmaoooooooo 🌈 Short Days, Long Nights 13 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 The words come pouring out of his mouth before he can stop them, but once they’re out, he can’t stop saying them. Burying his face in your chest, he says the words directly over your pounding heart. “I love you, honey. Fuck, I love you.”

@iamskyereads

🌈 Compulsion, Pt 6 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 One of THE BEST versions of Ezra I've ever come across in fic. SO GOOD. SERIOUSLY SO FUCKING GOOD.

@netherfeildren

🌈 The Cassandra Complex, Pt 3 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 This story is so well-written, the plot is beautifully crafted, the imagery is wonderful. No surprises there, right? It's Vic lmao. It ain't gonna be anything but amazing! Having said that... the smut in this chapter..... whew. WHEW. You outdid yourself, Vic.

@velvetmud

🌈 home video blurb ⇨🔋😈 But you don’t find the words or the energy to conjure up an answer. You’ve become too lost, too deep in the moment giving your own boyfriend’s dad another long orgasm he’s been saving up just for your face. “Gonna tell him his dad’s thick cock fucked and wrecked this throat all night?” he asks, pointer finger dragging down your aching jaw. He continues with a whisper. “That I split that pussy open on it whenever you come over to see him, too?”

@psychedelic-ink

🌈 Ravish ⇨🪆🔋😈 Okay I love the set up of this story and also the way Joel is chill about ~cam girls~. But I did bust up laughing when she saw his dick and was like wtf idk man idk if that's gonna fit and his ass hits her with the I've seen you shove bigger dildos into your pussy you'll be fine lmaooooooooo.

@tieronecrush

🌈 Only Angel, Ch 2 ⇨🪆🥹 “I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

@cavillscurls

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋😈 Tommy watches you fuck Joel. Just go read it already! 🌈 Lover Man ⇨🥹 Soft and fluffy. You play with Joel's hair bc he is bb grl and deserves tenderness.

@walkintotheriveranddisappear

🌈 Waiting Room ⇨🪆🥹 I love this series, and this part carries so much of the story. The break down of relationship dynamics and friendships and people just trying to figure shit out was *chef's kiss*

@haylzcyon

🌈 Slow ⇨🔋 *chanting* EZRA EZRA EZRA EZRA “Fuck me slow, Ezra.”

@the-ginger-hedge-witch

🌈 Everything ⇨ 🪆🥹 from one of my all-time fave series Adversity. I'm not going to write too much of a blurb here bc I will go absolutely off the rails about Adversity if prompted lmaooooo.

@mandoblowmybackout

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋 Ezra gets his ass ate and fingered. *wipes tear* It's just so beautiful.

@leslie-lyman

🌈 Focus ⇨🔋 Ezra hypnokink that makes me very horny every time I read it.

@pascalisbaby

🌈 Heaven ⇨ 🔋 sub!Joel just wants to make us feel good, as he should. 🌈 Control ⇨🔋 now we're subbing and think we wanna dom but you know what sometimes it's just best if Joel doms 😅

@hier--soir

🌈 Whole New Can of Worms ⇨🪆🔋🥹 yyyooooo I wanna be BFF with Joel if it means getting dicked down that good. jesus!

@cupofjoel

🌈 Switching the Positions ⇨🔋🥹 The domesticity. The fluff. The fucking. Perfection.

@chloeangelic

🌈 Reflection of the Moon, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Joel Miller ascending to baby daddy status. We love to see it.

@the-scandalorian

🌈 Mine ⇨🔋😈 🗣️ PRONE BONE ANAL

@northernbluess

🌈 Art of Healing, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🥹 I. Am. OBSESSED. with this series. Marcus Pike, art therapist. It's a slow build, and the story is PHENOMENAL. I have gone back and re-read chapters of this so many times. I adore this story!!

WHEW HOLY SHIT I DID IT.

I know this is basically a month late. I apologize. I'm gonna go ahead and apologize in advance for whenever the October wrap up rolls around bc I'm pretty sure I read even more this past month than I did in September. *screams into pillow*

If all the writers in this fandom could please stop being so fucking talented and amazing please that would really help my To Be Read list.

😩

SEE Y'ALL NEXT MONTH

[harveybwabbit92]

{R/n and Hobie having lunch outside of 7/11.]

R/n: I'm gonna get a pet bird.

Hobie: Don't get a bird.

R/n: Why not?

Hobie: Because they're weird. I dunno. I can't relate to a bird. They're so far removed. They've got different chromosomes... and they come from eggs...

R/n: They have faces.

Hobie: So do cockroaches. *takes a bite out of his hot-dog*  Whub re ya g-ing do wib a brb? (” What are you going to do wit a bird?”)

R/n: I'm gonna stick it in a cage and feed it, what do you think I'm gonna do wit’ it?

Hobie: Well I think you should get a bird, at least get one you can eat.

R/n: I'm gonna get a friend! I'm not going to eat my friend!

Hobie: They have brains the size of pistachios... it's not smart enough to be your friend.

R/n: You don't know what you're talking about! I saw this special on PBS called "Animal Miracles" and they did a dramatic re-enactment about a guy being robbed, and he had a parrot or a cockatoo or something, and that bird lost it's shit when its owner was attacked. It opened up it's cage...

Hobie, cutting-in: Why would you put a bird in a cage if it can open the door?

R/n, getting frustrated: Where else are you going to put it?Anyway, it opened up it's cage and went crazy, pecked out the robbers eyes, scratched his face up like he was Tippi Hedren or some shit. And don't you tell me that's not friendship.

Hobie, thinks as he sips his slurpee:.....

Hobie: How big was this parrot?

R/n: I don't know, parrot size.

Hobie: Well a parrot can't take on a full-grown man unless that man is a giant pussy...

R/n: I didn't say the parrot won! The robber stabbed it with a fork and killed it's owner. The bird's dead.

Hobie:...

Hobie: So why are you gettin’ a bird?

R/n, now very frustrated: It's not about national security, you stupid mother fucker, I'm gonna get a friend!

Hobie, puts his hands up in surrender: Alright, jeez...

[likepraying]

7-11 run | oneshot

pairing: guy x honey summary: first meeting between guy and honey... or at least my interpretation. warnings: none! wordcount: 1,004 note: i know this took so long to release but here you guys go!!

You weren’t the type to go to 7/11 at three in the morning. However, the guy you talked to about Star Wars for around six hours offered and for some reason a slurpee sounded great right about now. You didn’t know why saying yes to him was so easy but you were sure it had to do with the way he smiled at you and the look of hope that was in his eyes… You could probably say yes to anything he said at the moment. 

The reason you two met was because of this dinner party. You were at the point in your life that people did dinner parties, which you didn’t even know if you were the best candidate for. Someone from your class invited you because her boyfriend was a culinary major and he wanted to do something for the sake of practicing his skills. Plus… you couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal where you had all five food groups. More sad to admit in your head now you think about it. 

Still, you expected to see a keg and some dudes with shirts off… Okay, maybe you weren’t the biggest party person and you didn’t spend time outside of your dorm other than for work. You didn’t want to talk about it. The dinner held around fifteen people and all of which you could communicate with, except for this girl named Kayla which was rough. Most of the time she wanted everyone to pay attention to her but you didn’t have the patience for that so you just ate your food and talked to others. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with her. 

It was a good meal. A wonderful array of different types of tacos. It was traditional style tacos with fish, veggies and chicken with some rice that was so good you had to take home. As well as the tortillas and a good amount of salsa. Your mini fridge will be thankful for actually being full for once. But the guy who sat next to you asked about you. He was interested in what you studied, what your hobbies were, why you specifically hated the Return of the Jedi when it was the best of the original series. You couldn’t understand Guy, you wanted to so badly but you couldn’t get him and that’s why you probably stuck around with him this evening. 

Your window gets rolled up as he finally turns on the air conditioner in his 2014 Subaru outback (that of which he named Steve Irwin) and you smell the royal pine air freshener once more. You two had a debate about that one too. 

“You know what would be totally crazy?” Guy’s voice breaks the long and lovely silence you were having.

A sigh escapes from your lips, “Yeah?” “If you like… stay at my place and we have a sleepover.” “...What?” “You heard me, dude.”

“Guy. I cannot spend a night at your place.” “Well! News for you, babe, it's actually three right now so you’re not exactly spending the night.” Guy counters but it only makes you close your eyes. 

“I cannot. I got work.” “Great. I’ll drive you to your dorm and then I’ll take you out.” You sit there in the passenger seat, tempted to just shake him. You hear his marble-sized brain shake around his head but you don’t. You bite your lip before shaking your head, “Fuck it.”

“YEAH! Sleepover at Guy’s!” He screams out before you  are swerving to the right and pulling to the 7/11. 

“I hate your driving so much, oh my god.” You say, holding to either side of the car, bracing as if you were going to crash. 

“Hey, I deliver pizzas for a living. I gotta get there fast or else they get a free pie. I can’t have that.” He turns off the ignition and steps out of the car. Before you have a chance to open the door he runs over, sliding over the hood of his car and opens up the door. With a huff he smiles, “Hey girl.”

“Never say that again.”

“No! It’s the Ryan Gosling meme!” “...Where do you get so much energy?” You ask. “It’s the H in ADHD.” He smiles back at you before gesturing to start walking with him as he closes the door after you climb out. 

The worker doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone screen as the both of you enter. The humming of the fridges and the slurpee machines fill the silence and already the two of you are giggling as you try and race each other to the machines. Guy hip-bumps you and you’re thrown off your course. You watch him grab a big gulp cup and fill the cup in every flavor. His giggles only make you question whether a demon possessed him. 

Slowly in your frightened state you grab a medium cup and begin to fill the cup with coca-cola and cherry and the man snaps up as if he just remembered what he needed to get. 

“The Airhead rainbow things. The sour things.”

You watch him furrowed his brows in confusion as he tries to remember the name of the candy and you feel laughter bubble in your throat before it escapes, shaking your head and you speak once more, “You are ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s right, honey! R-I-D… Uh…”

You look over at him with a raised eyebrow and he stares back at you with puckered lips and shakes a finger, “Whatever. I need the candy. You can sit here and judge me for not knowing how to spell ridiculous but I want snacks.” 

And he was off to another aisle. You grab a straw and feel yourself smiling more than planned. You didn’t know why you didn’t tell him not to call you anything. Especially “honey” of all things. But you could get used to him calling you that. You could be Guy’s honey.

[risetherivermoon]

heres another bunch of random specific dndads headcanons, this time its teen addition! ft. Hermie, D00d and Hero

- After everything was done and solved Lincoln and Normal remade the yellow bracelets from early s1, now they're braided friendship bracelets

- Taylor has surprisingly never broken a bone

- Normal took gymnastics before getting into Mascot stuff,

- Scary makes Terry Jr. drive her to hot topic and makes him wait outside while she takes like four hours (terry is just happy shes kinda spending time with him)

- Lincoln has a photographic memory

- In elementary school Taylor tried to hide Cassandra's kitchen knives all around the house 'for survival and easy weapon access.' she still finds random knives around the house

- Hermie did ballet

- Whenever Scary is ACTUALLY mad at any of the other teens she will just call them by their full name instead of either a nickname or an insult, (ex. instead of Linc, Tay, Herm, or Norm; Normally, Taylor, Lincoln, and Herman)

- Scary/Terri's favorite food used to be baked potatoes, but Terry ruined it for her bc they had it in common

- D00d thought Hermie was just some weird guy that walked around and stalked the teens without saying anything, for like...a while, because of how much they all forgot about them

- Hermie was genderless and built like a barbie/ken doll (goofs are beyond gender)

- Lincoln was such a lonely kid when he was younger that he'd make sculptures and give them names and talk to them, notably he had a sculpture of a soccer ball he called Soccie (sock-e)

- Scary has a collection of monster energy cans, especially after everything had happened, she would drink energy drinks to not go to sleep in the paranoid fear she'd meet willy again

- Normal has an extra toe

- Taylor has a life times supply of pocky

- Lincoln makes way too much eye contact

- Hero worked at Swallows Ice Cream part time before switching to the pizza delivery job

- Hermie would have never admitted it out loud but he preferred Teen High's theatre program to Chapperal

- Normal has made and ordered so much Teeny the Teen merch that he cannot do anything without something having Teenys face on it

- D00d tried to make friends with Lark at one point, it was not successful not because Lark got mad at them, but his anti-social behavior (he has never made a friend before in his life) mixed with his fear of the doodler lead him to just kind of try to ignore them

- At one point Hermie had a big cartoonish hammer that they would smack Normal's head with whenever they thought it was funny (the hammer felt like getting hit with a balloon)

- Hero convinced Normal he was adopted like ten different times growing up, Sparrow would usually be the one to have to calm him down

- Scary cut up one of her Mom's dresses to wear for herself at one point and after everything was resolved Veronica randomly asked Scary if she'd seen the dress and Scary said the dog ate it (they don't have a dog)

- Lincoln admitted at one point that he'd never had a slurpee before so all the teens went and got them and he had such a bad brain freeze that he started crying

[steviewashere]

Steddie Fic Recommendations Part 4!

Previous Recommendations: Part One Part Two Part Three

Okay, there's a lot of new people who follow me since I last did this. But I'm here to bring you some more recommendations! Last week, I did explicit only fics in anticipation for Valentine's Day (not that sex equals like love or whatever). There's no theme for this one, but I hope these reads treat you well!

Also, any Tumblr blogs that may be tagged, feel free to reach out for me to remove the tag. I have no qualms doing so!

As always, the tags and themes vary on all of these fics. Heed all tags, ratings, and archive warnings with caution.

it’s tactless, it’s a test (it’s just therese) by a_pleasure_to_burn

“Steve hasn't been the same since that night nearly a month ago when Eddie reinvented him in an Indianapolis drag club. A new piece of his puzzle has been added - or perhaps, it was there the entire time, embedded in Peggy Lee songs and navy blue dresses.

Or - Steve Harrington has a gender crisis on Eddie's floor. Cuddles and sweaters ensue.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 5,179, Rating: General no Archive Warnings Apply

Part of a Series: Steddie Drag Queen AU Canon Divergence AU Genderfluid/Genderqueer Steve Harrington

—————

2. The Only Living Ghost in New York by beetlesandstars @beetlesandstarss

“‘Eddie?’ Steve sounds sleep-rough even to his own ears. ‘What’s up, man? It’s like, midnight.’

‘I know, I know, sorry, just—’ Eddie takes a breath. ‘David proposed to me.’

Steve feels the world tilt on its axis. ‘Oh.’

‘Aren’t you gonna ask me what I said?’

Softly, Steve asks, ‘What did you say?’

‘I said yes.’

(Or, Steve and Eddie navigate their twenties together and apart. Eventually, something has to give.)”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 8,065, Rating: Mature no Archive Warnings apply Modern Setting AU

—————

3. don’t you (forget about me) by brokenfandoms @steddiehyperfixation

“A scared and confused Eddie wakes up in the hospital missing 11 months of his memory, with no idea what landed him in there or why Steve Harrington is at his bedside holding his hand.

A devastated and heartbroken Steve wrestles with the unprecedented grief that comes from the realization that the man he loves no longer knows him.”

Chapters: 8/8, WC: 22, 305, Rating: Teen and Up no Archive Warnings apply Canon Divergence AU

—————

4. steve’s secret munson mixtape by everythingwasragtime

“Steve could play it cool during his shifts and hell, he’d even manage to distract himself whenever him and Robin were frolicking around town, getting Slurpees and talking about her love life. When he was alone was where the trouble started. He would hang his keys up on the hook next to the front door and the silence would immediately bombard him with echoes of ‘don’t ya, big boy?’ the very words that made his brain short circuit.

(In which Steve Harrington unknowingly begins to make a mixtape for whenever he finds himself thinking about a certain metalhead)”

Chapters: 16/16, WC: 35,000, Rating: Teen and Up without using Archive Warnings

[autisticempathydaemon]

Alas, I have sent in a very long anon so I apologize ahead of time. But I hope these help with the pairing lol *** What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why? Sabrina Carpenter- Espresso. Such a good summer song.

What is your Enneagram type? I think type 6? I don't really understand them that much

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why? Not really? I used to be really into them but I haven't been watching much youtube lately. Attention span go brrr. Someone would have to sit with me for me to be able to concentrate.

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend. Didn't have one as far as I remember. But I attempted cause I thought it was the normal thing to do.

What is your go-to way to fall asleep? Shutting my eyes and maladaptive daydreaming to sleep.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?) I quite like my real name. I feel it suits me surprisingly well so I wouldn't change my name. Maybe add a middle name though.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why? Oh boy, hm. I think my favorite would have to be Hush at the moment, but I also really enjoy Elliott's videos.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.) I think they all have their merits honestly. If he were still present, I would say Marcus cause he always weirded me out a bit, but if I had to pick a current one? I'd say caller dude. I don't understand but I respect game lol

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to. The Untamed. I watched it so many times it's ridiculous. I also read Manhwas/Manga a lot so there are many of those I know like the back of my hand.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend? Hmmmm. I think I would love to be friends with David and Asher. They seem like a riot together. I only don't add Milo here because he makes me blush so I'd fold for him too easily.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

PFFFT. I do. Music and stories I want to write but can't find the right medium to get it done. Real-life people know I never speak about my creative stuff but don't know about my online life as far as I know, so it's comical to them to hear how many stories are up in my brain at once.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Pass, I don't drive and rarely go to gas stations. But I'd say if I had to, the places I go often have great slushies/slurpees

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. 

Random on my phone or spotify because I can't be bothered to find actual playlists 😅

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Romance novels/manhwa/mangas. God I love seeing people love each other, especially if it starts off bumpy. But if it ever happened in real life I'd be so confused and not know what to do lol. Also, I would probably turn as red as an apple if someone found out about it without me telling them.

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!

I indulge in a lot of creative stuff, but I am also slightly sickly so my patience with myself is less than I would give other people in the same position as me. I'm attempting to remedy that but it's difficult to give grace to yourself sometimes (ˉ▽ˉ；)...

The way you describe yourself as easily flustered and blush-y makes me want to pair you with someone who’ll push those buttons, I’ve got to admit- Vincent, specifically.

I like his flirty, Edward Cullen-esque facade and the dorkier, tenderer interior for you, you know what I mean? Like, he’d flirt and poke fun and smolder as he does, but I think he’d have a good sense of when to stop, when you’ve had too much. I also like him for you as Type Six, the enneagram that desires security, reliability, someone steadfast. Vincent, that blessed simp of a man, is an emotionally dependable, loyal lover on top of being a sap and romantic which works well since you also strike me as a romantic.

Your life together is very fun- as fun as constant, light teasing from Vincent can be. He loves a lot of the same things you do, like manga and danmei. (My Vincent is Chinese, as is William, so he’s especially attached to danmei and historical dramas.) He loves peeking over your shoulders, reading the dialogue in a smooth, smoldering voice and then kissing your cheeks when he makes them glow. He’s a little stinker that way, but Vincent definitely knows to be more genuine and sincere when you share your creative work with him. He’s incredibly supportive, buying you whatever tools and/or instruments you might need until you find the medium you like best.

Song:

The hungry heart, the roving eye/ Have come to rest, do not apply/ The frantic chase, the crazy ride/ The thrill has gone, I step aside/ And I'd believe in anything were it not for you/ Showing me by just existing only this is true/ I love you, I love you without question, I love you

As an 80’s kid, Elton John (and the Road to El Dorado soundtrack as well) feel like a good pick for him, you know? Very classic, timely, nostalgic. I like it for y’all specifically because of the vibes, because it reminds me of this lover that lived this crazy existence, lived hard and fast without knowing what it was all for, until they met the person who it was all for, until Vincent met you.

Runner-ups:

In that same vein of thought, Gavin is a strong, cute contender though I don’t think he would have quite as much of a grasp on your comfort levels and moods like Vincent would. In the opposite vein, the other arm if you will, I like Morgan for you. He’d be a good match for a Type Six, and his vibes just suit you; it’s hard to explain why.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[triangularitydubs]

Jaxon Dean; otherwise known as JD was a cool kid who managed to bring down the Brittneys of Easterburg High School and become the new king of the school, with his queen already being set in fellow classmate Monica.

But after Jaxson found out Monica planned to kill him, he decided to join Gangle's troupe before leaving a special goodbye present for her.

Jaxon Dean is the manipulative one. Whenever Gangle has trouble with the law or otherwise, Jaxson can be seen, Slurpee in hand, ready to make a plan.

Signature Song:

Freeze Your Brain

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

01000111 01100001 01101110 01100111 01101100 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 00100000 01100110 01100001 01101100 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101111 01100100 00101110 00101110

[schermit]

@churromancermasterofchurros @dyinggoosenoises

Thanks for introducing me to this!

Name: You can call me Justin!

Pronouns and gender: I'm a man! He/him is fine.

Sexuality: Honestly, not sure. At this point I'd probably say bisexual. Is that a dumb answer?

Country: US

Top 5 fandoms: Hard question. Probably:

I love the Arcane Ascension novels recently.

Avatar-TLA is an obvious choice!

The SCP Foundation has taken up hours of my time.

The TTRPG community.

I'm throwing in the tumblr wizards here because that shit jives with me for some reason

What is your Most forbidden snack:

Sometimes I smell the cat treats and I get the urge to shove fistfulls into my mouth.

Would you pet a bug: I have pet bugs before.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class:

I have like three eyebrow hairs that will seemingly grow infinitely long if I don't fucken handle them. Also I eat the tails of shrimp too.

What does the color blue taste like: The blue ICEE/Slurpees.

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen:

I love when the sunset hits the mountains and you can see rainclouds in the distance. It's one of my favorite vibes. Look at my blog's banner for reference.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done:

I locked my keys in the car like twice in one week once. I know there are stupider things but my brain must be repressing them now.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say:

I don't even know what to pick seeing as I worked in retail for most of my life. Probably any time a parent would let their kid try to pet the large birds at the pet store I worked at. Those things can amputate fingers.

Hyperfixation song: Currently it is Love's Not Enough by Lane and the Chain

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username:

Username is a portmanteau of a portion of my name and the word 'hermit.' My profile picture is of the plague doctor costume I made!

Dream career as a child: Veterinarian. Turns out you have to cut and stab things.

Dream career as an adult: Probably like successful Twitch Streamer or something. They make bank.

Thoughts on cilantro: I don't even know anymore. I thought I liked it but the last few times I ate it it tasted bitter. So yes I guess? Maybe I got a bad batch.

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why: Uh, not in real life but I was banned by the gamefaqs Pokemon Mystery Dungeon forum because I posted I was 12 like an idiot.

What is your cursed food combination:

I used to put mayo in a slice of bologna and roll it up like some sort of fucked up taquito.

Trans rights? Um, duh! Live your life, people. It has no bearing on mine. I wish I could give everyone struggling a hug. I have a few trans friends/relatives and seeing what they go through breaks my heart sometimes.

And instead of tagging people, if you follow me and you see this, feel free to reblog with your answers. I'd love to read them. :)

[oldguy56-world]

Waterworld

There are three things all people need to survive in the world: food, water and air. For food we can last quite a while without it. Currently I am approaching 11 years without having a donut so that says something. (Not sure what exactly). We can survive without water for a few days at best and as for air, give it four minutes tops. That makes air the winner in needs for us. (Interesting that while we need water if we stay under it for too long the need for air kicks in. Too bad we aren't like other species and have a blow hole, or at least one we can breathe through).

Perhaps you have guessed by reading the title that I am going to discuss the middle one, water today. My fascination was brought about yesterday when a scheduled overnight shut down of our water turned into a full extra half day. I had diligently timed my peeing to coincide with available flush times and this was completely thrown off when I discovered after waking up that it was not to be. Like any true survivor I headed over to the closest mall and marked some territory there. (relax. I used their facilities)

Cooking was going to be fun as most of our recipes involve water. We are fancy that way. There was a brief spurt from the kitchen sink but it would be best described as sludge that came out. Not an appetizing name for anything that is liquid you would want to drink. (Wait a minute! Perhaps a Slurpee that is made of fudge. The Sludge. I will look into that and get back to you.)

Anyway all was fine before supper and I am happy to say we had a nice meal. It did get me to thinking about water while we did not have it though and I thought I would share these ideas with you.

Humans are made up of mainly water yet we get flabby and lumpy. Is there something in this magical water we need to be concerned about? I have never seen flabby or lumpy water but maybe it is like that in other places we don't know about. So now the nightmares begin again.

People like to frolic in the water. So do gators and sharks. God really does have a sense of humor doesn't he? (She? I won't go down that road)

Everything we drink is 99% water, so why is a bottle of pop a couple of dollars and a bottle of wine can be a couple of thousand dollars. Are grapes that expensive? I may be wrong on this but I believe someone is making some fast money here. (Related topic. A liter of Coke goes for a couple of bucks but a pound of Coke goes for...I refuse to answer on the grounds it may incriminate me, but think about it. Same stuff that somehow the addition of water brings the price way down. My head is starting to hurt)

What if there were no oceans? How bad would the Earth smell with all those fish laying around? (Don't think too deep on that one). Or would they all have legs and feet to run around? Who needs a shark running at them while they are jogging? And how many legs would a whale require to be able to move?

What makes rain fall? It goes up and then for no reason it decides to come back to Earth. Does it miss its friends?

How come no matter what combination of foods we eat we pee yellow? Except beets. We need to look into beets.

How come most people want to vacation near the ocean but very few go in? It is much cheaper to just lie down outside your house on a sunny day. Could it be we want to see water but not get involved with it?

As you can see having the water shut off at our place for a few hours seemed to dry my brain out, or maybe it was the alternate liquids I chose to partake in that brought these thoughts to me. I should run a Beta test and find out.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Water is essential for the survival of the human race. So why is so much effort put into polluting it?