#picking drywall out of my teeth

[hella1975]

YOU'RE AN ANGEL IM A DOG OR YOU'RE A DOG AND I'M YOUR MAN YOU BELIEVE ME LIKE A GOD I'LL DESTROY YOU LIKE I AM I'M SORRY I'M THE ONE YOU LOVE NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME LIKE YOU AGAIN SO WHEN YOU LEAVE I SHOULD DIE I DESERVE IT DON'T I I CAN FEEL IT GETTING NEAR LIKE FLASHLIGHTS COMING DOWN THE WAY ONE DAY YOU'LL FIGURE ME OUT I'LL MEET JUDGEMENT BY THE HOUNDS PEOPLE ALWAYS GAVE ME LOVE OTHERS WERE NEVER TO BLAME AFTER ALL YOU BELIEVE ME LIKE A GOD I'LL BETRAY YOU LIKE A MAN

[running-with-kn1ves]

Desperation

A/N: I wrote something very similar to this with the Belsire previously but I couldn't help myself 🙏

Belsire: male equivalent to the Beldam (Coraline)

CW: kidnapping, manipulation, sewing needles

A beautiful lullaby hummed against your ear, fog-like breath both chilly and thick caressed against its shell.

You never imagined that he could sew; sure, he was keen to cook you extravagant dinners, you never saw him clean despite the crooked house always spotless, and the clothes that were put in your drawers were consistently washed-- but such delicate needlework? You didn't think the creature had it in him. His fingers seemed made for it though, long and spindly and black at the tips, they held the needle at a fine point, without having to lick the end of the thread before putting it through the eye.

"Stab the needle through the eye....wrap two knots around the tongue, and pull it out the mouth."

His low, rasped voice was unlike anything you've heard from the men in the "real" world. Its croaky demure made sound as if his vocal chords were on the brink of snapping. It was very few and far between that his voice resounded throughout the house in a thunder-like boom.

Tonight, was not one of those nights. Not unless you made an effort to wrangle out of between his stick-like forearms in the wooden chair and began yelling ungrateful spiels whilst staying in HIS house. He said it was yours-- your "other home," but since the gateway tunnel back to your original 1-bedroom apartment became nothing but sturdy drywall with a key hole, its been his. It was always his, you were just too blind to see past the beautiful illusions built for you.

"Just like that... mending is simple work."

You feel his left hand, the one once holding your torn cardigan steady, reach up to lay a cold finger beneath your chin. It rubs back and forth, relishing in the warmth of your throat, the soft flesh between your jaw and jugular.

The Belsire seemed to enjoy running his smooth, icy digits along your naked skin, brushing from side to side, up and down to dip against your collar bone. He relished your warm-bloodedness from how often he took advantage of it. It was a wild contrast to his ever-frozen, rigid body draped in fine blacks and bruised shadows.

"C-can you show me again?" You plead, hoping the end of this activity wouldn't be the finale before your demise. Each time you have one of these "bonding" sessions the Belsire encourages you to entertain him with, you anticipate it being your last.

Each day you wait and wait... wondering if he's hungry again, if it'll hurt, if you'll make one more frustrated comment away that'll make him snap and pick your bones clean.

"Again..?" He tapped thrice on your neck, a twitching habit that sent cold shocks through you. "Why don't you try it yourself this time, dear?"

The sweet, affectionate name oozing from his lips was unnatural-- and yet, perfectly normal for the creature of love seduction. How many had fallen for that same adoring title, only to find themselves now locked in his stomach?

You couldn't tell anymore what was genuine adoration, or a disturbing method at getting you to put your guard down. When he was angry with you, for hiding or attempting another escapade to get back home,  'dear' transformed to spits of "insolent one" and "maddening human", at the very least. On his worst days you were a bewitching, dimwitted little creature too stupid to be let free- better off in his hands if not crunched between his teeth.

"I'm not too sure, I might..accidentally stab myself with the needle, you know?"

You shrug in feigned helplessness, hoping your lack of enthusiasm wouldn't tick him closer to the dark side.

"If you do, then I'll lick your wound and we can start again. Give it a try, won't you? I've seen your work on my coats," he mumbles lowly at the rest of his comments, "and that damned quilt you seem keen to keep."

He muses at the mention of your skilled handiwork you sneak to do when he's gone away at "none of your concern" events. However he knew of your activities in this prison cell while he was out didn't surprise you; the house had eyes, in places you'd rather not think of.

You took the needle from within his delicate grasp, mahogany red thread swinging loose and ready to be tightly wound in your wine colored cardigan.

You copy the movements he had done a million times, though you really weren't watching when he had. It was hard to concentrate with your body shivering, waiting for a sharp dagger or set of teeth to find it's way buried in your back.

The Belsire seems to ease up as you begin to complete the torn cardigan hole, placing two abnormally long hands upon the sides of your shoulders.

"Don't move," he grumbles, almost annoyed at the idea. "Smooth and quite warm... I never understood the pleasure of keeping food around longer than it's due date. But you, little button... why, you're almost opening a soft spot inside of me.."

You didn't like the sound of that. A soft spot within him would certainly be something he sought to squash.

"Are you sure you want a soft spot? I'm not even sure where that would be."

You almost laugh at your own joke, imagining his crisp limbs deflated. If you were making a soft spot, you best keep at making it grow.

"It seems you force it in me, whether I like it or not. I enjoy having you to myself, to come home to... even if the idea that you're taking part of me, is... infuriating."

The Belsire leans deeper into you, pressing the inside of his thighs against yours, craning his neck downward.

"The unfortunate part is, I think I may fall apart if you disappear."

You see the looks he gives from the corner of your eye; dark, empty buttons staring into you, awaiting your reaction. Was this another attempt to swoon you?

"Then I guess that means you can't eat me."

You sigh, hoping he'd agree. And oddly enough, he cracks a grin.

"I guess not. Though, don't hold your breath. I can't make any promises as to what my temper will lead to." The bridge of his nose is uncharacteristically pressed against your cheek, black dots boring holes into you. "On the topic, I'd be less inclined to eat you if you accepted my present..."

You round off the last bit of stitching, only to see an all too familiar velvet box on your left. It was open, music box playing a soft melody as a range of colors and sizes in buttons were available to view.

"I... I still can't, give you an answer." You go back to tying an end to the thread, praying for the Belsire's eerily calm mood to stay uninterrupted.

He goes quiet, habitually running a thumb down the shell of your ear. The chill was almost welcoming, soft flesh touching your heated one. It felt... genuine, a form of physical affection that was done for his pleasure more than your own. It would be comforting, if you weren't waiting for him to explode.

"I expected as much," he calmly huffs, shutting the box with a single finger. Its harsh snap made you drop the thread. "But you can't expect me to wait forever; you aren't going home. You will remain here, either as my slave, or my spouse. The difference is whether I have to force these buttons on you, or you take them willingly."

"I.. I just need a little more time. I haven't-- I'm not-- done adjusting. I'm not used to this world, like you."

You've given up pleading; for all you knew, there was no way back home that either of you could conjure. This was your fate.

Like a doll he dressed and cleaned and made a perfect dollhouse for, you were to sit here and provide him the comfort he could not create on his own. Like a god, creating his creatures of free will, he relished in the uniqueness you offered without him having to fabricate it first, the obedience you gave from fear in your own desire rather than a direct command.

A long silence left the air hanging stagnant, your patchwork sitting in front of you, finished and yet not quite the same as it once was. Why couldn't you go to the store and buy a new one, spend frivolous money and speak to the miserable cashier that reminded you humanity was still alive?

"...Fine. But not much longer, my sweet button...this-- mortal flesh still tying you to your world, has kept me at a distance I do not wish to stand at." A soft kiss, from creased, inexperienced lips touched the top of your cheekbone. "I want you for myself... I don't like not getting the things I want. And, I want you far more desperately than I imagined."

His voice was stoic, gentle and logical despite the romantic lines that were fed to you. Spindly fingers pulled back pieces of your hair, caressing the skin on your face with soft strokes. Like a human would do to an animal, running his knuckles against your cheek and his fingertips along your jaw.

Just a simple touch and turn of your chin was all it took to make you look at him.

"Don't make me wait. I will have you, and I want it to be because you will it. Please, don't make me do what neither of us want."

His tongue was warmer than his touch, somehow. Maybe it led to his even warmer heart, but you doubted it. Even with the way both his large, balmy palms were gripping beside your ears, pulling your face to touch his in a dance of lips and stolen breath, you wondered if this was just another web of lies spun to create your damnation.

But the desperation in how he swallowed you whole, pulling your hands away from the touchy needlework he was once keen on making you finish-- there was something human about it all, something touchy and irritable and obsessive. If he wanted you desperately then, you could only imagine how horribly ridden he was now, feeling your warmth as he made you colder with his hands and wrists, him never changing.

You peeked an eye open, wondering if those buttons stayed all-seeing, all watching, even when you kissed.

[rip-quizilla]

Love Me Mercilessly (Ow!)

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 12: Ow!

A/N: This story, while able to be read on its own as a one shot, picks up where There Will Be No Tenderness left off. If you would like to read the full story in its entirety, I suggest starting there.

Content Warning: 🔥🔥🔥This story is basically just pure smut, so please only interact if you are 18+.

WC: 1000

Summary: During an argument at a party, Eddie put his hand over your mouth just to get you to stop talking. In a surprising turn of events, you liked it.

Tags: Eddie Munson X Henderson!Reader, Female!Reader, Backup singer!Reader, fingering, P in V sex, degradation kink, bratty reader, enemies to lovers

Divider was created by @strangergraphics

“You…liked that… didn’t you?” Eddie mumbled, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he closed in on your space against the bathroom wall. “Answer me.”

Your arms were crossed defiantly, yet your eyes couldn’t seem to meet his. “You’re a pig, Eddie.”

“And you’re all hot and bothered.” He was smiling now, the corner of his lips turning up in a smirk. “You liked that I got rough with you, admit it.”

Your eyes narrowed on him. “Prick.”

“Brat.”

He was inches from you now, caging you in with eye contact alone.

“Screw you.” you spat.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Eddie’s voice was more growl than whisper now; you could feel his breath on your face. It smelled like cinnamon gum and cigarettes.

One exhale from Eddie, one inhale from you. Then your lips were on his.

Eddie’s hands shot straight to your ass. He squeezed, earning a moan from you as your lips left his for a moment, only for him to feel your teeth bite down on his bottom lip. 

“Ow!” He groaned- grunted, more like- lifting you up and slamming you back against the wall, hips pinned by his as he attacked your neck. 

“Don’t leave marks,” you panted, “band can’t know-ah!”

Eddie ignored you, sucking at a spot just above your collarbone. “Stop telling me what to fucking do.” he murmured, licking the salty sweetness of your skin. 

“Jesus, you’re stubborn.” you rolled your eyes back, half from pleasure and half from exasperation.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s thumb wandered to the front of your panties, stroking over the fabric until he found the spot that launched your head back, wrenched your eyes closed and pulled a moan from your mouth that made his dick stand at attention. “I’m not the only one.”

“I…fuck-”

“Jesus, are you at a loss for words, sweetheart?” Eddie teased, pressing circles into your clit over your panties. “So much more agreeable when my hand’s between your legs.”

Your hand tangled in his curls and gave them a sharp yank, ripping a surprised moan from Eddie’s mouth. You smirked, excited to have found some kind of leverage against him, and gathered more of his hair into your hand before pulling even harder. 

“Fuck,” Eddie’s hand was a blur, shoving your panties aside one second and sliding a finger into your entrance the next. “God, you’re so wet. If I’d known telling you what to do would have this effect on you sooner, I wouldn’t have spent so long biting my tongue instead of telling you to shut up.”

This side of Eddie made you see red, made you so damn angry… he was mean and crass and god did it turn you on. You writhed on his finger, riding his hand while you gripped his mane for stability.

“Is this why you’re always such an ass?” You asked him, voice breathy as he slipped another finger in. “Have you just been sexually frustrated this whole time, Munson?”

The curl of his fingers inside you was exquisite, making your back arch against the painted drywall. 

“You gonna let me fuck you and find out, Henderson?” 

You nodded fervently, clutching Eddie close as his lips slid sloppily over the skin of your decolletage. He huffed a chuckle into your sweat as your walls squeezed his fingers tighter. God, you were gonna feel so good around his cock.

“As much as I love the fact that you aren’t arguing for once, I need to hear you say it.” 

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes, I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled at your eagerness, unbuttoning his pants and whipping his dick out in record time. “Are you on the pill?” he asked, to which you replied with a breathy “Yes.”

“Then I hope you’re close because we go on in ten minutes and I am not leaving this bathroom until I feel that pussy cum.”

That was the only warning you got before Eddie Munson’s cock slammed into you so hard, you saw stars.

He didn’t give you a moment to adjust, no gradual build-up to a faster speed. Eddie fucked you relentlessly, mercilessly. He fucked you hard and quick against that wall, murmuring into your ear about how tight you were, how hot and wet that pussy felt around him. 

“That’s it, soak my dick, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckled when your walls clenched around him at that. “Fuck yes, squeeze that cock baby. Holy shit that feels so good.”

Your moans had grown in volume with every thrust, and if you didn’t quiet down then people were definitely going to hear you through that locked door. 

Eddie’s hand once again clapped over your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure as he continued pounding you into the wall. “Always so fucking loud.” He saw that look in your eyes again, that submissive, deer-in-the-headlights expression that woke something up in him- made him want to break you. 

It was intoxicating, intense, and it was all you saw when you looked at his smoldering brown eyes. You were getting tighter and tighter just looking at them, closer to unraveling, teetering on that delicious edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-”

And hearing Eddie moan that into your ear was what pushed you over. You mewled into his hand, lips parting to taste the salt on his fingers as you spasmed around him. You felt his cock twitching inside you, felt the wet slide of his cum as gravity sent it dripping down his shaft. 

You were both breathing heavily, sweating and spent when he carefully slipped out of you and helped you find your footing on the bathroom floor.

There was a beat of silence between you, and you both knew that the two of you would eventually need to talk about this… but now wasn’t the time.

“You’re coming home with me tonight.” Eddie didn’t phrase it like a question.

“That’s presumptuous of you-” 

He leveled a look at you that said ‘Really?’

You sighed. “Fine.”

[mustainegf]

The ‘that’ll be fine’ situation with James, the reader being the groupie? (I’m so sorry 😭)

THE AMOUNT OF TIME IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS REQUEST… 😍

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁰

My back was pressed flush agaisnt the wall. Staring down at me was the James Hetfield. This was a position I NEVER pictured myself in. The air was already tinged with sweat as his eyes admired me, fingertips tracing up my jaw.

His length stood proud only inches from my face, and my god... he was big.

So very big. It wasn't something I would normally look for, but when you were given this kind of opportunity... it didn't matter what size or shape your partner had. What mattered was that it was James Hetfield.

"Open up, sweet thing." He demanded softly.

I swallowed hard. I wanted to do this. I wanted to be with him. With James.

I have him a teasing grin, obeying him as I parted my lips, keeping my teeth out of the way of his path.

I felt his cock on my tongue as he pushed in. My throat worked around him as I moaned, my hands gripping his hips. "That's right," he whispered.

"You like that?" He slid out before pushing in again. I whimpered.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you." He teased my gagging. The more he talked, the more he pumped into my mouth. I lost track of the words after a while. The only thing I could focus on was him fucking my face.

"That's it," he growled, tightening his grip on the back of my head. He began pounding into me now.

Harder. Faster. Deeper. All three combined until I felt my stomach turn.

He picked up speed, the first hints of his balls slapping against my chin as he slammed himself deeper inside my throat. Then his hands were on my cheeks, squeezing my face as he fucked me faster.

In. Out. In. Out. I couldn't breathe. Everything was getting darker around the edges, my vision blurring. Fuck... it was perfect.

At this point my head was bumping agaisnt the drywall behind me, his hips snapping as he slid his member down my throat.

"God, yes," he groaned, his balls slapping against my chin faster and faster. "Fuck yes," he bit out, shaking and stilling all at once. I gagged, coughing uncontrollably as I struggled to breathe. "That'll be fine... fuck.. yes!" He groaned.

His voice quickly turned to a bellow, that thunderous 'James Hetfield' sound that could scare anyone away, all because of pleasure that I was giving him. "That'll be fine! Agh... that'll be fine!" He tossed his head back as he bunched my hair together in a fist.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes closed tight, his brows furrowed, lashes sticking to his cheeks from how much sweat was dripping off his forehead.

I managed to take a deep breath before I started to cough again. "Fuuuck!" He threw his head back, the vibrations from my throat sending him into his orgasm. "Fuck yes!"

He bellowed. "That's it. That's it!" The tears pricked at my eyes from the force of his cum spilling into my throat. I choked harder, trying to swallow the stream. "Just swallow baby, doin' so good..."

He crooned, petting my head. When he was done, he let go of my hair, sliding out of my mouth and I coughed softly. "Such a good job..."

he chuckled, running his hand through my hair.

He started pulling himself together, and I finally got enough air to get myself together. It took a moment, but I was able to wipe my mouth clean.

"There we go," he said, looking down at me. "Not so bad, huh?" I smiled, feeling shy, but excited. Excited about the fact that I just gave James Hetfield an orgasm.

“Did so good for me, baby.”

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part Four: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of Grief, Child loss, Death. Panic/Anxiety Disorder. Swearing. Fluff. Super cute friendship scene with Eddie & Robin.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 4k

Cold, it was so cold. You don’t know what happened; you remember laughing with Sam and then the next thing you see is the crack windshield and hearing the sirens. You don’t even know how they got Lily out, you remember her crying and then silence. 

“Sam…”

“I’m here baby.”

“I don’t wanna die.” 

“You won’t.”

“Everything hurts.” 

You turn your face to look at him, but when you do, his face is almost unrecognizable, his skin is blue, and the piece of metal in his stomach seemed to be three sizes too big. 

You scream.

Screaming yourself awake wasn’t uncommon for you, but it had been a while since you had a nightmare like that. Your hands shook as you sit up in bed, turning on the bedside light. You felt the sweat drip down your neck, and you take in three deep breaths. It was four o’clock in the morning. Only hours ago, you were the happiest you had been in a while, but that was now overshadowed but the crippling anxiety you felt in this moment. Pushing the covers off yourself, you go into the bathroom, opening the bathroom mirror to take your lorazepam to settle your nerves. You dry swallow it, gripping the porcelain sink in front of you as you try to settle your breathing. 

It was only a dream. 

Please, I can’t hear your voice right now.

I’m sorry.

You tried to think of making love to Eddie, you tried to think of the way his lips felt against yours, the way he made you laugh.

Nothing worked. 

You felt like screaming, you just wanted to feel peace. Not for those few hours like you did with Eddie, but you wanted the peace to be constant. Everything was so fucking chaotic inside your head; you were almost convincing yourself that the last 48 hours weren’t real. And that you were still locked up in the psychiatric unit, getting woken up every fifteen minutes, pretending to take your pills and your plan to end your life as soon as you walked out those doors. 

No.

You are here, in your childhood home. You have air in your lungs, your breathing is starting to slow down, your hands are less clenched. You are here, you are healing, and you are safe. 

Why do I have to be here and heal?

Why do I have to do it without you two?

Why couldn’t she have stayed a little bit longer?

“My beautiful baby girl.” You whisper, clenching your stomach, your throat burns, and you sob. You curl your legs up to your chest and lay down on the cool bathroom floor. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Your mind was playing tricks on you, you think you’re better off dead. 

No mama! Stop that!

Your eyes snap open and you gasp, sitting up quickly. “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean it.” 

Mama, you don’t need to be sad anymore. I’m with daddy.

“I know.” Your bottom lip trembles. “I know.” 

Go find kitty.

Lily’s lovey. Her all-time favorite stuffed animal that she took everywhere. You get up from your spot in the bathroom and go down into the basement. You sneeze immediately as you approach the back part of the basement, the smell of your parents’ old belongings bringing you back to a spot in your childhood, an overwhelming aroma of dryer sheets permanently stuck to the drywall. You find a box labeled Lilyand open it up, you find her old books, some of her old shoes. You find her coming home outfit and feel the tears immediately fill your eyes. You lift it up, it was a purple onesie, with tiny little mushrooms on it, it also came with a hat. You place it in your lap, and you almost scream in excitement when you find the cat. You pick it up, smiling at the raggedy looking thing. It was an orange and gray tabby looking cat, missing a plastic eye, its whiskers were bent in odd directions, and it’s left ear was practically chewed off from her teething. You take the small newborn outfit, shut the overhead light off and cuddle the cat as you go back upstairs. You go into your bedroom, jump into bed, and immediately fall back to sleep, hugging the cat close to your chest. 

Eddie was in a solemn mood, Robin could tell. He told her that he burnt the letter, he said he just did it on impulse, but he doesn’t regret it. 

“What are you gonna do when Hunter asks about her?” Robin asks gently and Eddie pauses as he’s cutting up Hunter’s strawberries. Hunter was content in his highchair, watching his favorite toddler show. 

“I’ll tell him the truth.” He says, placing the strawberries on the tray. 

“And what’s the truth?” 

Eddie looks at Robin, she had a way of Jedi mind tricking people to get you to think way too hard about things. “You know what the truth is.” 

“I know your truth.” She says, leaning against the counter. “But you need to tell him her truth.”

“I’m not gonna make her out to be a monster if that’s what you’re thinking.” He says, almost snappy. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” 

Robin asks Eddie about you, what steps are you planning to take. “You already slept together, so what happens now?” 

“I don’t know.” Eddie grumbles. “I haven’t talked to her in a few days.” 

Robin sighs. “Is that why you’re grumpy?” 

He whips his head towards her. “I’m not grumpy.” 

“Says the grumpy man.” Robin raises her eyebrows and gently pats him on the shoulder. “Just be careful, this is so new for the both of you and…you’re not the same people. I don’t want you two to strictly form a relationship on trauma bonding.” 

“It’s not like that Robin.” Eddie sighs, turning towards the sink and rinsing off a few dishes. 

“You just reconnected a week ago, man. How do you know that?” 

“I just know…I’ve always known. There’s been this tether there between us since that night in the woods.” Eddie groans. “It sounds crazy, I know it does. But, there’s something there.” 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Or her for that matter, but…” Robin takes a fist full of his hair in her hand and turns him to look at her, he mutters an ow and laughs. “You’re my best friend, dude. My brother. I can’t stomach the thought of you getting hurt again.” 

Eddie smiles sweetly at her, gently taking her hand out of his hair and squeezing gently. “I’m gonna be fine.” 

“Famous last words.” Robin smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Just don’t let your guard down. That’s all I’m asking.” 

“Yes, mom.” 

Eddie had put Hunter down for his nap not too long after Robin left. He noticed Hunter was coming down with a little cold, his nose wouldn’t stop running and he was a lot more restless and he could hear his soft snores on the monitor. He had a low grade fever and when Eddie called his pediatrician’s office, the on call nurse said to monitor his temperature and to give Tylenol or Motrin to help with his fever. Eddie hated when Hunter would get sick, it always threw him into an immediate panic because he would convince himself he wasn’t breathing or if he gave him too much medicine. It was moments like this he really missed Olivia, and he hated admitting that to himself. She knew what to do, even if it was so hard for her to exist in that moment, she was always super mom. 

“Vapor baths to help with the congestion.” Her voice reaches his ears and he pauses on the page of the book he was reading. 

“Yup. Got it.” 

“I see you burnt my letter. Surprised it took you this long.” 

He doesn’t answer her, his eyes continue to scan over the same sentence in his book over and over again. His palms were getting sweaty. 

“Eddie, pretty soon I’m just gonna be a memory to you. Can you just look at me?” 

His eyes squeeze shut and he mutters a broken. “No.” 

“I’m not gonna be here much longer.” 

“Lucky me.” He mutters and he feels her presence disappear. He looks over his shoulder from the couch and slams his book shut, not bothering to mark his place. He hears the sound of Hunter coughing through the monitor and his soft whimpers. “Da…Da…Da…” 

“I’m coming, duder.” 

He makes his way up the stairs and into Hunter’s nursery. He was curled under his blanket, sniffling and coughing. Eddie places his lips on Hunter’s forehead and is shocked with how much hotter he felt. Hunter turns on his back and lifts his arms up to Eddie who picks him up gently. Even his back felt hot. Hunter rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he fishes the drawer one handed for the forehead thermometer. He places it on his forehead and it beeps twice, Eddie knows that’s not a great sign. The window was lit up red: 102.3. 

“Oh buddy.” He says gently, rocking him back and forth. “Let’s get some medicine into you and get you in for an appointment.” 

Hunter replies by sniffling and burying his face more into Eddie’s chest. Eddie had given Hunter some medicine to lower his fever and had called his pediatrician to get him an appointment. The outcome was the flu, on top of an ear infection. Eddie felt so bad for him, he was so uncomfortable and even with the vapor bath he still clung to Eddie like a lifeline. That night, they laid in the couch together. Hunter laid on Eddie’s chest with his pacifier as Bluey played on the screen. His fever had gone down, and Eddie had set up the pack and play in the living room so he could easily get to him if he needed him in the middle of the night. 

Hunter had fallen fast asleep on Eddie’s chest, Eddie let him lay there for awhile, gently rubbing his back, playing with his hair and just admiring his features. He loved this little boy so much. He would move mountains for him. 

Eddie’s phone buzzes on the kitchen table and he carefully places Hunter in the pack and play with his favorite blanket and stuffed animal and stretches out the muscles in his arm as he walks to the kitchen. 

You: Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA. Been in a weird griefy state but I’m okay now. How are you?

Eddie smiles at your message, his heart doing a back flip, excited to hear from you. Don’t apologize, I’m sorry. Been there, it’s not a fun feeling. I’ve been good, Hunter has the flu and an ear infection so I’ve been dealing with that. He’s okay, his fever went down. 

You: Oh no! Kids being sick is the worse. I hope he feels better soon. Do you need anything? 

Eddie: We’re okay! Got some medicine in him. Let’s get together when he feels better?

You: Absolutely. 

Hunter was almost 100 percent the next day, Eddie, however, felt like he got hit by a truck. He was curled on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders, his hoodie was over his head, and he had cold chills going all over his body. Robin had called him, and stated she was gonna come over when she heard the sound of his voice. Hunter was on the floor of the living room playing with his blocks when Robin walked in. 

“You look like death.” She laughs as Eddie turns to her, just having blown his nose. 

“You don’t want to come near me.” He grumbles. 

“If I get sick, it gives me an excuse to stay here and quarantine with you two.”

“This is awful, Robin.” 

“Go take a nap.” 

“I don’t need a nap; I need to lay down in the middle of traffic.” He chuckles at his own joke, but the chuckle turns into uncontrollable coughing and Robin rolls her eyes. 

“Dude. You have a giant bed upstairs.” 

His eyes flick to hers. “I can’t sleep in there.” 

Robin sighs. “Eddie…” 

“Robin, I really can’t. I’ll sleep here, or on Hunter’s floor.” His lip was almost trembling with how cold he was feeling. 

Robin sits on the floor and takes his hand. “Eddie, you need to start taking steps like this. You know that room looks completely different, you know that if you don’t get rest, you’re not gonna be able to function and we know how you are when you can’t function.” 

“It’s not the room itself…I just…I feel like I see her there. Lying there.” He inhales a shaky breath, his eyes well with tears. He was feeling so sick, and his emotions were all over the place, he felt like he was failing at being a dad because he was sick. “I don’t want to see her.” 

“She’s not there, Eddie.” Robin tells him gently. “Not anymore. That’s your space now. I’m not trying to force you to go in there, but you need your rest. This is already kicking your ass, and I know not being able to do the dad thing to your full potential is killing you.” 

“It’s killing me.” He whispers, tears fall down his cheek and Robin pats his face. 

“As soon as your head hits those pillows, you’re gonna pass out. Please. You’re gonna be okay, I know you are.” 

“You believe in me too much.” He mumbles, taking the tissue out of his pocket and blowing his nose. 

“Look at me.” She tells him and he looks at her, his lip quivering. “You can do this, okay?” 

After a few more minutes of pushing, Eddie made his way at the top of the stairs. He hovers by the bedroom door, tightening the blanket around his shoulders, reaching towards the knob. His hand shakes as he turns it and pushes open the door. He keeps his eyes closed and holds his breath. He flicks the light on, a soft amber light illuminates the room and his eyes open. 

It did look different. 

He gazes at the floor; he doesn’t see her; he still wasn’t sure after all this time if he was seeing her. He looks at the bed, a California king, bigger than the one they had together. The comforter was a dark gray color, the pillows were a navy, there was also a body pillow tucked behind the two pillows. He groans, feeling his fever coming back, places a water bottle on the nightstand and pops two cold and flu medicine capsules in his mouth. He pulls back the covers, lays down and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

Last summer…

He was walking for miles it seemed; the darkness didn’t help, also the warm night was making his skin feel clammy. He couldn’t see straight; he had gone to a bar and had one too many whiskeys. He felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world; he knew Hunter was safe and was being looked after by Robin – but he still felt guilty. He didn’t want to get this drunk. It was a normal day for him, and suddenly he was struck with the overwhelming feeling of grief. There was nothing happening, no anniversary or song that came up – he immediately felt as if her death had just happened. His sneakers scuff against the pavement and the iron gates approaches his vision. He was at the cemetery. 

He used his flashlight on his phone to light his path, the light made everything look foggy, like it was just him and his ghosts. He hadn’t been here in months – but he knew where she was. 

He stops walking, his light illuminating parts of her name on the marble headstone. His hand begins to shake, and he feels a lump form in his throat. “So, we meet again.” He chuckles a little, the silence was deafening. He bites his bottom lip, staring at her name. “I don’t even know why I’m here, you’re not even in there; it’s just your body. Your soul is somewhere else.” He looks up at the sky, the moon was barely visible, it made the stars bright, beautiful. He looks back down at her name. “I loved you; you know.” 

A tear falls down his cheek and he quickly wipes it away, his hands clenching into fists. “I don’t know if it was a romantic love, or I just loved you because it was us, and our son and we were making it work.”

A pain hits his chest. “We were making it work!” He yells, inhaling a sharp breath, not bothering to wipe his tears that started up again. “We were making it work, being a family and you took that away! You took it away!” He sobs, falling to his knees, the phone drops out of his hand, darkening his entire view. “You robbed him of a mother, and you know exactly what that did to me. You knew exactly how desperately I wanted that bond with a mother and how happy I was that my son would have that…you knew, and you did it anyway. Why? WHY, OLIVIA?!” He rips the grass blades with his fingers, his body shaking as he wailed with sobs. “We were your only family…and we loved you…we loved you…”

He doesn’t remember much after but waking up the next morning, lying next to her grave.

He hasn’t been back since. 

Eddie wakes up coughing, his body felt cold, and he realizes he hasn’t felt this sick in a while. Robin had come up the stairs with some soup, and another round of flu medicine. He kept falling asleep, his dreams all over the place. He dreamt of his mother, not seeing her face but her silhouette. It was like she was being incased a beautiful ball of warm light. He dreamt of you, and he how desperately he wanted to hold you again, to touch you. 

His chest clenches, and he wakes up gasping. His palms felt sweaty, his heart began to race, and he clenches the bed sheets below him. He felt like he was going to get sick. He hasn’t had a panic attack in months, and he knows that this vulnerable state he was in was causing it to happen, and everything that has happened since he ran into you. His gasping must’ve alerted Robin, because she’s barreling through the door, staring as Eddie is hunched over, holding his stomach. She climbs into the bed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head into her chest. “I’m here.” She tells him. “Breathe with me.”

He closes his eyes, and inhales a shaky breath, his hand grips the bottom of her t-shirt. “Where’s…Hunter?”

“Sleeping, it’s almost midnight.” She cups the back of his head, and he glances out the window, seeing darkness and little moonlight. “Slow your breathing down.”

“I’m okay.” He whispers.

“You’re okay.” She says gently, tightening her old on him, entwining their legs together. The pressure from her holding him, the feel of her touch, how safe he felt in that moment, he begins to calm down. He releases his grip on her shirt but keeps his hand there, afraid of fully letting go.

“It’s been a while since you had one of these.” Robin whispers and Eddie nods. “Can I get you anything?” The back of her hand feels his forehead, a motherly gesture that he had grown to love about her. “I think your fever is breaking.”

“I think…I need to stretch my legs.” He says quietly, but he didn’t want to move. He keeps his head on her chest, the sound of her heartbeat was oddly comforting. 

“Take your time.” 

His breathing slows and he carefully sits up away from her. She looks at him with concern and he gives her a silly smile, gently knocking her chin with his knuckles. “I’m okay, Rob.”

“I’ll make you some hot tea, you should probably have another round of medicine.” She tells him, getting off the bed and hovers by the doorway. She looked sleepy, and he couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that overwhelmed him as he looks at her, but he knew she would dismiss it, tell him he was stupid and walk away.

Instead, he says. “Okay, mom.” He chuckles, unzipping his sweatshirt and running his hands over his greasy hair. He had waited for her to go downstairs and carefully gets out of the bed. His body was still sore, but the sleep helped, and he was feeling a lot better. He goes into his hallway closet to get some clean clothes and carefully walks into Hunter’s room. He peeks over the railing and smiles; Hunter was splayed out, his binkie hanging out of his mouth, his favorite blanket was curled at his feet. Eddie gently caresses his head, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently. “I missed you today, little dude.” Hunter stirs a little, and Eddie takes it as a cue to quietly leave the room. 

After showering, he felt more alive and quietly goes down the stairs. Robin was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in her hand, her long legs were bent under her chin as she swallows back a yawn. Eddie nudges her shoulder. 

“Go home.” He tells her, sitting down across from her. 

She shakes her head. “I will tomorrow, I need to make sure you’re 100%.” Another yawn escapes her.

He sips the tea, the warm liquid soothing his throat. “Robin, you’ve been here almost every day. Vicky must be furious at me.”

Robin smiles. “No, she enjoys her alone time. Plus, she said it gives her time to set up a surprise for me, she knows how nosy I am.” She leans her head back against the chair, closing her eyes.

Eddie smiles at her, and stares at her face. “Thank you…for being here.”

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes tired, but kind. “Definitely worth the risk of getting sick for getting to hang out with that little boy.”

“No, I mean…for almost two years…since Olivia—” He clears his throat. “You’ve been constant, even when I wasn’t easy to be around.” She looks at his face, hers softening at his kind words. He slides his chair over to her, taking her hand. “You befriended me right off the bat in art class freshman year, and I thought you were so weird, but I realize that you thought I was weird and that’s how we mesh. I had such a crush on you, but I realize now that I think it was because I knew you were totally gay and would never give me a chance.” She laughs and he grins. “I never believed in soulmates, but I think you’re mine. Not in a romantic way obviously, but I don’t think soulmates are based off romance. I think soulmates are two people who just work, can deal with seeing the ugly without running away. You have seen so much of my ugly these last few years, I was certain you’d run away. But I’m glad you stayed. Hunter loves you, and I couldn’t have picked a better person to help me navigate this thing called fatherhood. You’re my person, Robin. And I hope you know how much I appreciate you, and how much I love you.”

“Eddie, COME ON dude.” Robin says, tears springing to her eyes as she gently slaps his face. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I’m on two hours of sleep and I have caffeine coursing through my blood stream.” 

Eddie laughs, pulling her into a tight hug. She hugs him back tightly, and he kisses the top of her head. She lets out a sigh. “You’re my person too.” 

“Always.” 

(Taglist - thank you for all your support my beauties, it means the world) @mysticpeachobject @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @fearless-wretch-insanity @darknesseddiem @amberolivia666 @amandahobblepot @sxdghxstsbxxkshxlf @sariahs-stuff @trixyvixx @h-ness1944 @munsonzgf @ali-r3n

[captain-mj]

Are we gonna get a part four for love potion pretty please I‘m eating drywall right now

Of course!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Soap went into the woods that night with Ghost to search for the beast. Well, that’s why Ghost invited him. He was collecting some of the ingredients for Roach. And then he did it the next night. And the next. Eventually, it had been two full cycles of the moon. 

Ghost had become slightly more lax around him. Not much, but if his armor exposed some of his skin or he just didn’t know what to say, he let Soap know. He joked with Soap. Soap was pretty sure he smiled at him. He swore he heard it in his voice. 

Right now, Ghost casually took off his mask. This far away from his beloveds, his eyes were normal. His hair had been cut a bit shorter since they had last talked. Soap wanted to draw him. Or kiss his freckles. Or both. “Hungry?” 

If he had less of a filter, he would’ve said yes, for him. The time together did not do him any favors. Instead of finding flaws with him, something to convince him that his crush is stupid. All it did was make him want him more and more. Sometimes all he wanted was to press his face against Ghost’s neck. 

If he was honest, with all of his spare time being used for Roach as well, he had a similar feeling. He wanted to press against him, kiss him breathless.

It was a good thing neither wanted him as it would impossible to ever choose. 

Soap nodded. “I could eat.” He pulled his bag out and sat down to lean against a tree. He expected Ghost to pick a different tree to sit at but instead, he sat right next to Soap, thighs almost pressed together. “We do this for how long, sir? Won’t Lord Roba miss you?”

“He’s found his time with me.” Ghost sighed. “Always does.” He stole a piece of the goat cheese Soap had and popped it in his mouth. 

Soap watched him, fascinated with how his teeth chewed through things. He took a piece of the fruit Ghost had and ate it quietly. 

Memories faded. That was part of the passage of time. But that night had been sealed into his brain. Ghost in the throes of pleasure, head tilted back, mouth open. Soap knew he could do better than them. With no spell, he was sure he could do better by Ghost. 

Maybe it was a bit of a wicked thought.. Especially with what he knew Ghost went through. But God that did not help his feelings for him. He wanted to kiss him desperately. To touch him. Run his fingers through his hair. Press against him. 

“Finds time?”

“In the morning. Today he decided to get my time before I left.” 

Soap glanced at him, biting his jealous back. Now that he pointed it out, Soap could see the bites right at the edge of his collar. “Hmm. And when do you sleep?”

Ghost laughed. “I don’t sleep.”

“Elf thing?”

“Ghost thing. Never slept well. Especially not now a days.” Ghost closed his eyes. 

“Did they do something that hurts?”

Ghost paused and glanced at him. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know if you’re hurt.” Soap answered honestly. 

He seemed to accept that answer as he nodded and looked away again. “Some cuts on my thighs. I can move just fine. My fault?”

“How was it your fault?”

Ghost finished his food and sighed. He glanced at him. “Haven’t found the thing yet. They’re punishing me until I find it.” 

Soap nodded. “We’ll find it.” Or he’d die trying. He hated the idea of Ghost being punished for the crime of not being able to track a creature that might not even exist. 

Ghost sighed. “I hope we don’t. I can take it. It’s just a creature following it’s nature. Doesn’t deserve to die for that. I’m used to being hurt.”

“You joked about eating it.”

“I’ll make the most of it if we do. I won’t hesitate to kill it. But… I don’t want to. I stopped wanting to hurt anyone a long time ago.” Ghost smiled and closed his eyes. 

Soap swallowed and chose to sit in silence with that. He looked at him, wanting to kiss him. 

Simon looked at him. Soap could feel the difference. Something changed from one second to another. “Johnny.”

“Simon, do you think if we were miles away, things would be different?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we were somewhere else, miles removed from everything, what would you do?” 

Ghost thought about it for a minute. “I’d go home to Roba and Pilar as soon as I could.” 

Soap felt his heart break. “Ah. I see. Let’s keep going.” 

Ghost nodded and got up, pulling his mask back on. 

The two of them ventured further out and Soap looked for the last two ingredients on his list. Something from Ghost and foxgloves. They had something to do with deception and the breaking of it. 

Soap had no clue how he was going to get something from Ghost. He did tell Ghost he was looking for foxglove. When asked why he’d need foxglove, he fumbled before just awkwardly explaining they were his favorite.

Ghost had stared at him for a minute before they continued through the night. As the moon started to set, Soap realized it was another night without the plant he needed and another day where Ghost would be punished for not finding this fucking thing. 

Soap sighed as they circled the entire town. “Guess we’ll have to call it a night, Simon.” He turned around and paused. 

Ghost had a bundle of foxglove out. “Here. I passed some earlier.” 

Soap swallowed and took it slowly. “Thank you.” 

Ghost nodded and left him alone there. Soap looked at the flowers in his hand and swallowed thickly. His hand came up slowly to touch the buds. 

It took him a long time to walk away from that spot as his head spun. But eventually he did. He went straight to Roach. 

Roach who beamed when he saw him. Roach who always let him stay longer than he needed to. 

Roach who took the foxglove and noticed an important detail. 

Ghost had used his handkerchief to hold the stems together. 

“Everything I need.”

[dizazter-dragoon]

You:1 | Kirishima:1

So, uh, I accidently lost my Gym Bro Switch!Kiri x Switch!Reader wip cause I was an idiot- So here's the mild beginning while I rewrite the rest

Synopsis- You try to get a headstart on Gym Day with Kirishima with mixed results.

Tags- aged up(obviously), gn!reader, dragon!reader, switch!reader, switch!Kiri, size difference, consensual roughhousing, no smut...yet

Word Count- 551 words

This is still an Adult Blog , so Minors DNI

A knock at the door had Kirishima stumbling out of his bedroom in the pre-dawn light. The hulking hero yawned wide, sharp teeth glinting and vision blurry, as he sleepily shuffled towards the entrance. What time was it even?

Opening the door wide, Kirishima barely had time to process the peculiar sight of 2 coffee mugs on the sidewalk before your heels swung down from above the door frame into his field of vision. His ruby eyes widened as he sprang to catch you by your hips as your swinging tackle hug knocked you both to the ground right inside the threshold. The impact forced a big “OOF” from the huge pro hero sprawled on his back beneath you.

“Mornin'! ” You chirped down at Kiri, scaled tail happily whipping to-and-fro behind you. Cracking your fingers, you crossed your legs to sit on his lap as he groggily sat up on his elbow. You reached out with one claw and booped him on the nose, snatching back the appendage before he could give it a retaliatory chomp. “That's Me:1 and You:0, my guy.”

Kirishima's chuckle rumbled in his chest, and you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way it reverberated through your smaller frame. “Not very Noble to attack before the sun's risen” He teased, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “Doesn't count before coffee, remember?”

You gave an amused snort and threw your head back in the direction of the travel mugs on the pavement. “Oh look- Coffee.” you smiled down at him mischievously, “Besides- when do villains fight fair?”

Kiri rolled his eyes despite not being able to help the sharp grin spreading across his face. Oh ho, two could play that game.

His muscular arms were hoisting you into the air before you even registered him rolling forward off of his elbows and picking you up off of his lap.

One second you were on top of the stunned scarlet haired hero- and the next your back was whamming against the wall next to the door, forcing the air out of your lungs with a sudden whoosh.

You tried to squirm out of his hold, you really did. If it weren't Eijiro “built like a fucking fridge” Kirishima, you probably would have succeeded. His grip under your arms was like stone as he kept your pinned just above him. You noticed in your dazed state, that your shoes dangled almost comically a good couple feet off of the floor. However your attention was quickly grabbed by the shark teeth grazing your collarbone, as he nipped his way up to your ear.

“Looks more like 1:1 to me, Dude” He pulled away from your neck and gave your flushed form a once over and quirked a eyebrow, “Unless you can get out of this hold without destroying my drywall?”

The rough treatment and teasing nearly left you as breathless as the physical exertion. Your tail thumped against the wall as your face flushed with slight embarrassment. Avoiding Kirishima's smug grin you craned your head as much as you could behind you to look outside, before turning back to face him.

“Does-Doesn't count b-before coffee?” you panted out weakly with a broad smile, thumb pointing at the abandoned lattes behind you both.

“1:1, Brat”

[awellboiledicicle]

My lover pauses, hand resting on my cheek, and asks what poetry is being written behind my look of adoration. I can only offer that I'm writing it, before I kiss him. Willing my tongue to convey my love, where it can't with words.

Because I'm not writing some grand poem immortalizing his beauty, while I feel his hips against my palms. I'm not thirty stanzas into an epic about our love, as my teeth sink into his shoulder and his moans dance through my nervous system. Nor am I composing lyrics to a song my throat is too tight to sing, when I'm shuddering under his touch.

I am, instead, painting the walls of my memory with broken open sharpies. Hoping that the impression and sensation of his mouth get set down as permanently as they are physically impermanent, so he will be with me when he is not. I do not stop until we do, every detail dabbed onto the surface of thought. The drywall is soft, mostly, from all the additions. This is how it should be. My hands end up messy, and I come out light headed, but by the time we lay holding each other, the picture sets.

Poetry, pretty words that trip my tongue and make my lover smile. .. I do not write while we lay together. I do not write it while I gaze lovingly from across the couch. Because, when I cup his face and memorize every freckle, I have only to say I Love You. My throat is thick with it, my eyes threaten tears, and my tongue feels heavy with all the times I want to say it. But it do not write it then.

Words, those fickle little things with more weight than sense, fall into form... later. Later, when I lay in bed alone and miss the sound of his breathing. When I, in the haze of sleep, reach for his comfort and find nothing on the other side of the bed. When I feel the phantom of his lips as I try to fall asleep, and hold my own hand to make up for a lack of his.

The poetry behind my eyes puts together that room covered in sharpie. It outlines the curves of my lovers body, the spots on his skin, the wisps of hair in his limbs... the look of love and longing that I'm not sure he knows the scale of. Words, sometimes perfumed and sometimes heavy, school together to try conveying my feelings. I cannot write the poetry my lover could make into a song, but I can outline the feeling of him learning a song for me. How the honor I felt choked me like a vice grip being wrenched tighter with each note. I can finger paint the picture of my emotions when he explains his interests, bright hues staining my hands as I pick out adjectives for the halo of joy he wears in those moments. I can even splatter letters around to silhouette the grand palace he's helped me make of my self confidence-- though the paint fades here and there on that one.

My lover asks me, his breath in my mouth, what poetry I am writing behind my half closed eyes. And all I can think to answer is I Love You

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for saving my friend?

My (20s F) friend, T (also 20s F) was on trial for a crime she didn't commit! This is terrible, right? Some bozo blew up a politician's (old af, M) car and they can't find the culprit, so they're pinning it on my friend! I think it's because T is the last in line of her family and they want to strip her of the political power that comes with being the head of an influential family. Oh well. So, she just has to prove herself innocent!

Except she doesn't! She was going to plead guilty for some dumb reason, so I borrowed a ride into the courthouse just in time to make my dramatic entrance! So, I stepped out of this giant truck and told the judge that I did it! I didn't, naturally. I would have blown the geezer up, sure, it woulda been funny, but I didn't. But neither did she! And they wanted to hang T or something for killing the guy! Maybe it was life in prison, I don't remember. I wasn't paying attention, too busy honking my horn and picking drywall out of my teeth.

Anyway, T has a lot of friends that rely on her. Folks to live for. A legacy to uphold. She doesn't need this punishment! So I, having disowned my family years ago (dad's an asshat), decided I would take it instead! If someone has gotta take the fall, it's better that it's me! But T seems pissed about this. Am I the asshole for bailing her out by throwing my head on the chopping block?

[soulofgenocide]

Sickness

. . THIS WILL BE FUN . .

"Bloodthirsty psycho."

. . THE POT . .

Richard laughed and pulled out a stim from his coat pocket, taking a deep hit and letting the drug surge through his entire body like a shockwave of pure ecstasy. A grin close to that of a cyberpsycho spread across his lips, that or someone about to finish, either way he grit his teeth and popped out both of his mantis blades.

"We're just getting rid of an unwanted sickness."

The door of the drug den burst open with Richard's foot on the other side of it, he'd kicked in the metal sliding door like it was one to a doll house and it sent the 'elevated' residents inside into panic. Stumbling like fools Richard walked past, eyes scanning over them as he placed an incendiary grenade on the table with their stash and made a small waving gesture. Those who understood ran for their life, those who didn't we caught as the stash and nearby burst into flames, Richard already moving his way down the hall deeper into the den.

. . NO SIGN YET . .

"Pestilence has learned a bit I guess, still walks around with that stupid ass mark but at least learned how to hide it now."

At the end of the hall Richard came across a red X, spray painted across a fairly normal looking wall, but as he gave it a knock with a mantis it made a clearly metal sound in response. With a roll of his eyes Richard then dug his blade into the shitty drywall directly next to the metal door, and sliced clean through the electronic lock keeping it in place.

"Moron puts a reinforced door in the slums but doesn't fix the walls up too."

The opened path lead to a short set of stairs, just enough to go down into a basement which then lead deeper into an old bunker, one likely from the corpo wars or before. Slum residents knew how to survive hell, and that was dig deeper until nobody can even fucking smell you anymore, survival comes before anything else. The basement was mostly empty, except for a small stash of boosters that got another grenade chucked their way, and he was down the bunker stairs before the burn started.

"Seems his cult is still the same, slum, guttertrash, traitors and shitbags is pretty much all he ever gathers, so where the fuck did he get all that iron and tech."

. . PESTILENCE AI IS CAPABLE OF RECREATING BIOLOGICAL WEAPONS. THEORY. THEY FOUND THE NEEDED LOCATION TO RECREATE A STRONG ENOUGH WEAPON. USED IT AGAINST A MILITECH OUTPOST. TAKING CANDY FROM A BABY'S CORPSE . .

"That is absolutely not the saying, still to get that all back not only states side but into NC, someone heavy has their hand above him, whether they're a puppet master or the unknowing puppet."

. . THEORY. CONQUEST? . .

"Why the fuck would he ever arm his enemy, you know how it goes, there can only be one."

. . CONQUEST IS INTELLIGENT. HE PLAYS A LONG GAME WHILE WE TRY TO SIMPLY WIN ONE ROUND OF CHESS. IMPOSSIBLE TO PREDICT HIS PLANS. DO NOT DISMISS . .

Richard sighed but WAR was right, always assume in NC someone was gonna pull off the impossible and that their bullshit would likely get you killed. Finally they came to the bottom of the bunker stairs and kicked open another door, only to find this room empty, not of just people but of everything entirely, except for an old cellphone sitting on the floor which rang the moment they walked in.

"Motherfucker."

. . TRACING . .

With another sigh Richard picked up the old phone, flipping it open and then rolling his eyes when there was an annoying laugh on the other end.

"Hello my dear brother."

"Eat shit Pest, if we were ever related I'd purge the whole bloodline."

"Oh? Didn't a corp take care of that already, ever find out who that was? I'd truly love to meet the lads that were kind enough to give me this gift."

"You know what I actually did."

"Really now?"

"And every single one of them is mutilated beyond recognition, and that fucking gun they stole from me is on my trophy as it should be, granted it's now stained with their blood."

"Mr. Mantis using a gun? Must've been really mad."

"Get to your point, I walked into your little trap what now?"

"Oh, nothing brother, I moved all of my supplies out of there the other day expecting you to come along and just left some addicted dregs behind. This was just for our first hello, it's been so long after all, thought you'd miss me."

"You know what, I did miss part of you."

"How sweet!"

"The dipshit part, that thinks this is the first place I went to today."

"...Wha-"

On the other end Pestilence was clearly interrupted, as he was told not only was more than half of his product up in flames, but every single militia cultist that were in those dens were torn to pieces. Richard wore a tiny smirk as he then heard the loud bang of him slamming his fist into something metal.

"Still there. Dear brother?"

"Burning some RAT nests won't slo-

"There you fucking go again, same as before, you think you're fucking Conquest and above me like I can't read you like an open book. Hell, try reading a book, maybe then you'll actually get one step ahead of me."

"Like the men I've got outside waiting for you?"

"What men?"

There was a loud silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a sigh, as Pestilence mumbled something to whatever subordinate was in the room.

"You don't learn Pesty, I thought you had, you brought all that iron and heavy here but what's the fucking point if you don't know how to use it properly. You're trying to fight me with violence, with soldiers and psychos high off their ass? Bitch please, this is NC and I'm motherfucking WAR walking."

Richard crushed the old phone into a mix of dust and scrap which fell from his palm, he then turned and went back up the stairs, avoiding the burning fire in the basement. Once back in the main drug den he tossed another two firestarters across the room, then slipped out the door and lit up a cigarette.

. . HE IS DOWNTOWN . .

"Mm, not for long and we're too far, cunt at least knew to keep some distance, tell Rogue theres some places burning in the slum that may need put out. She'll like the bunker actually, always good to have a hole to hide in."

. . THEN WHY DID YOU SET IT ON FIRE? . .

"Gotta burn out the stench first."

He raised his leg a bit high, the reason of course being the dozens of dead men littered around the entrance to the den, all with holes blown cleanly through them and charred around it. As he made his way through the body minefield the Javelina slowly rolled up from across the alley where it had been hiding, in the perfect spot for shooting fish in a barrel.

[kydoesthings1]

Some songs that remind me of makugae hand picked from the Spotify of yours truly. Yes I’m very mentally well why do you ask

part 1 because this got too long with all the lyrics

Sure hope the formatting isn't fucked up lol. Also I forgot how links work but all this is on Spotify

As per popular demand and in no particular order, an un-exhaustive list of songs I bend metal bars with my mind to:

Bodybag by Chloe Moriondo

I don't know where exactly you expect my head to go When you look at me it's like I lose control You know that you're to blame when you say my name When you say my name, yeah … Don't know if I hate you or if I wanna date you Put you in a bodybag instead of my bed … I could cry when I hear you speak But that just makes me angry I wanna kiss you on your cheeks But I also wanna punch your teeth in

Such a Gaelio coded song. And he really did put McG in a bodybag instead of his bed so :D

Stardom by King Gnu

The English lyrics on the Internet are Wrong so I made up my own that hopefully don't sound like a bot wrote them

Behind the smile I tried to make up in my dreams How many times have I shed tears? Remembering the roads I have walked How many times have I swallowed humiliation? It's not quite like yearning But there's no end to the dreams of people who continue walking on the right path … Tearing through the clouds up into the atmosphere And right down to the end of Hell … I've overcame the nightmares from that day Then I'll reach for the spotlight no matter how many times … Life has to come to an end But there'll be no end to my name Poisoned by the light of glory, just beyond the limit Don't fear the end Laugh it off as recklessness Now that I've done all I can All there's left is to wait for fate

Apparently this was written for the Tokyo Olympics (aren't the lyrics too ominous though??). I don't really care about sports so this is a McGillis song to me

Father by The Front Bottoms

But you look good tonight, girlfriend Can I sleep in your bed? And when I crawl out in the morning Can I stay inside your head? 'Cause you were high school And I was just more like real life And you were okay, okay as a girlfriend, girlfriend But I was just more like his wife I'll do the push-ups, I'll wear the makeup I'll do whatever he wants all night 'Cause you were okay, okay as a girlfriend, girlfriend But I was just more like real life

To me this is McGillis pov about Gaelio and it makes me want to chew on drywall. Izn*rio is there too although we all wish he weren't. (Ignore the heterosexuality.)

Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

I know people have opinions about Mother Mother songs in character playlists BUT the lyrics are too good to not put in this one:

I fell in your arms tonight I fell hard in your arms tonight, it was nice I died in your arms tonight I slipped through into the afterlife, it was nice White light in your arms tonight I lost sight in your arms tonight, it was nice And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute That I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? That I'm fine even after I have died? Because it was in your arms I died

Fairly straightforward McDeath song.

(In a way it was the best possible way for McGillis to go out, in a fight not after he get arrested and tried. Or he could've blown up in space and not die in the arms of his historians-will-say-they-were-best-friends best friend)

Crystalline by Circrush ft. GUMI

Tell me what to say And lead me through the shadows Show me the escape Where you go I will follow … I'm falling apart piece by piece To shards of what you have made of me But I've risen above all that I have become Turned from the pain I was trained to love … I am fixated on all of the things we were together But those are fragments that are better off lost forever

Return (Kaeriuchi) by John ft. Hatsune Miku

The English lyrics are wrong again lol

I won't forgive you if you keep up that irresponsible attitude Can't you never show yourself in front of me again? Do you know of blue roses? They go well with sad words Though they would be a waste for you Take this! The gunshot heard in the middle of the night And this upside down love Are still waiting to strike back The genuinely lonesome ringing cheers And those annoying trash Are still waiting to strike back It's the last stand

A song that fits Vidar!Gaelio well

Love and War by Fleurie

Lover, hunter, friend and enemy You will always be every one of these

There are so many songs that go nothing's fair in love and war for some reason

Romantic Homicide by d4vd

In the back of my mind You died And I didn't even cry No, not a single tear And I'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive In the back of my mind I killed you And I didn't even even regret it I can't believe I said it But it's true I hate you

I know I know another overused character playlist song but it matches if you interpret it in a Gaelio is coping with killing McGillis and failing type of way

Say It. by Yorushika

This is quickly becoming just me translating songs wth

I'm sure I'll be thinking of you on the last day of my life Although it's a shame that I won't be able to say everything Ah, someday on the last day of my life, I'll say that you’re gone Even, even, even, even, even more properly … And on the last day of my life, if I'll be able to see you I’m sure I’ll be singing of love even on the last day of my life So I can say it wasn't all for nothing Ah, someday on the last day of my life, although I still won't be able to believe that you're gone More, more, more, more more, more, more, about you I'll say it even more, more, more more, more properly

I expose myself as the biggest Yorushika fan. Something about not being able to say what you really wanted to say to the person before they died...

Spiracle by Flower Face

Not pasting the entire lyrics lol but here are some ones I really like

I want the parts of you you only show To the corner of your bathroom mirror I want the parts of your hand-grenade heart That beat slowly with anger and fear … I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you And I want your violence, your silent sedation Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation … I want you, butterfly, I want you, sailor I am your lover and I am your jailor

Something about desiring someone so deeply and wanting everything about them...This is just an insanely good song

part 2 very soon. I have a stomach ache and am going to watch youtube videos in bed now (please don't judge my taste in music this is the only thing i have going for me)

[myriad--starlings]

i'm tired of being in pain to survive. it's not even really to survive. my body isn't getting any of the benefits of infusion care right now because shit keeps FAILING. i'm going to shred drywall with my teeth. i'm so tired. the universe should have to pick one, either the medical system doesn't help me OR my body rejects everything i can squeeze out of doctors

[moonssugar]

🌳 👁️ for the asks please!

thank you for the ask rachel!!! :3 i love doing these

🌳 share a snippet featuring nature of any kind

this is from a chapter named "fireflies" i wrote i think last year! i really love this one. my three (sam, chelsie and aubry) are sitting in the middle of this marshland in the middle of the night and aubry finally shows them that she has an ability to summon insects (and repel mosquitoes which is really useful!). she summons fireflies to light their way out of the marsh

Sam didn't make a sound except to laugh breathily. He held his arms up, watching the fireflies dart over him in a river of bioluminescent light. They were everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. The entire world was aglow in yellow-green, an even growing river of light.

👁 share a snippet where the character is very visually engaged/a snippet with description

this chapter doesn't have a name right now except "sam's house" but this is when sam and chels are earlier in their friendship and she lets him do her makeup because he's more experienced at doing it and she isn't and wants to learn. the result is beautiful. its very sweet and i can bite through drywall whenever i think about this scene it literally drives me insane

Sam’s pillow is soft under her head. Her hands folded on top of her belly, Chrysa is looking at herself in the makeup kit mirror, reading all the names of the colors and Cosmos watches closely as Sam does his magic. It is magic to Chelsie, how he knows how to do this. His magic has the full focus of his attention. Any caps or gloss and packets of glitter that fall from the edge of the bed are picked up in Kaid's teeth and placed back into Sam's hands. It usually hurts when Chelsie tries to apply eyeliner. Lots of accidental poking and tears with no results. This, what Sam is doing, doesn’t hurt at all. A thin brush moves over her eyelids and it feels cool, nice. "I used to love doing this," he began. “My mom and Fae taught me how. Mostly Fae. She used to love to doll me up all the time and she'd let me practice on her." Chelsie smiled knowingly. "Used to? I can tell, you still love doing it. That's why you're so good at it." He blushed. "Thank you. And yeah, I do still love it," he happily admitted. "But you know, the harassment." She sighed and closed her eyes. "They're assholes. And you know what? Probably jealous as well." Opening her eyes again she shifted her head on his pillow to a more cozy place. He waited for her to get comfortable, then continued. "You have the arcane magical skill they don't." That made him smile. She felt the little happiness of success. Chelsie’s attention drifted to the prints on the bedroom wall. A lot of them were things created with oil pastels and gouache, watercolor, crayon, ink, pencil on scrap paper. Many landscapes, lots of sunsets and sunrises, trees and coyotes on hills. What he had made spread across the walls beside and across from them, torn outs from sketchbooks pinned up, wood blocks with glue on the backs, a few small canvas fitted together like puzzle pieces. Where the edge of one stopped another began, ocean touching desert. In others, where one began and ended was hard to see, they phased into each other with no boundary, no beginning or end. Different worlds touching. "I can see why you like doing makeup so much. It’s kind of an art isn’t it?" Sam looked back to her from where he followed her eyes across the wall. "It is art," he said, “and right now i think it’s coming out beautifully."

fun trivia under the cut!

btw the whole insp for the makeup chapter is this LMAOO. think this but t4t

[hmslusitania]

If you build it…

another 5x18 spec because I am useless at all other thing s

Buck is not…a handy person. He’s good with power tools, obviously, has to be for work. Drills, chainsaws, axes, halligans, sledgehammers. Give Buck something to destroy and he can pull it apart in ten seconds and look good doing it.

Also, he’s never lived anywhere that he was allowed to change the basic structure of the place. So the caulk? Spackle? Drywall putty?? aisle of Lowe’s is a foreign land. Buck doesn’t know how to make things.

But fuck it, he’s gonna learn.

The lady at the paint counter is helpful when he doesn’t know the exact shade of off-white-taupe-beige, and lets him leave with some samples. Apparently looking helpless as shit and like he hasn’t slept in a week goes far.

His plan, his thought, is that if he fixes it, if he sets it all up pretty, then maybe — maybe Eddie will let him stay.

On his way back to Eddie’s, he stops at the grocery store to get beer. It feels like the thing to do, right? It’s guy stuff, fixing walls, having a beer, all that jazz.

Eddie hadn’t wanted Buck to come pick him up from the airport. They were getting in late, and it was just easier to take an Uber. So it means that when Eddie and Chris get home, Buck is still crouched on the floor of Eddie’s room with the …drywall putty and a spatula.

“Uh, hello?” Eddie calls from the living room.

Because Buck’s stuff is in neat piles by the couch.

“Its just me!” Buck calls back.

“Hi Buck!” Christopher shouts, and he sounds tired but happy and the next thing Buck hears is the clack of crutches down the hall and then Chris’s arms are around his shoulders.

“Hey buddy!” Buck says. “How was Texas?”

“Abuelita made tamales,” Christopher says which is apparently the thing that matters most. Buck appreciates that. He’s missed Isabel’s tamales since she moved back to El Paso too.

“I’m very jealous,” Buck says.

“We were gonna try to bring some back but we weren’t sure if they would get seized by airport security or not, so she’s gonna try and freeze some and mail them,” Christopher says.

“And someone here is about to crash from travelling,” Eddie says. Buck looks up and past Christopher’s shoulder to see Eddie leaning in the doorframe, looking down at Buck and Christopher with a warm, fond smile.

“I’m not tired,” Chris insists and betrays himself with a yawn. “Ugh, fine.”

He hugs Buck again and then heads off to brush his teeth. Once he’s in the bathroom with the door shut, Eddie’s expression turns to worry.

“Hen, Chim, I saw the news and—”

“They’re good,” Buck says. “Yeah, no, they’re okay.”

Eddie exhales and drops his suitcase on the foot of his bed. “Good. I mean, I figured if anything was — if they were — you’d have called me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Buck says. “But they’re good. Really. And Jonah’s in jail and he’s gonna go away for a long, long time.”

“Good,” Eddie says. He unzips his suitcase and Buck feels his eyes linger on the back of his head. “So, uh, what are you doing?”

“Making myself useful,” Buck says, holding up the putty spatula. The wall doesn’t look wildly better he has to admit. Lack of experience is ruining him. “Sort of.”

“And, uh, the bags out in the living room…”

“I broke up with Taylor,” Buck blurts.

“Oh,” Eddie says in the most neutral flat tone Buck’s ever heard him say. “You broke up with her. With bad feelings?”

The distant echo of shattering porcelain rings in Buck’s ears. He hadn’t taken Taylor for the type to smash all his shit — no, just in an ephemeral sense, in a fuck your family I’m going to publish everything sort of way — but, well, in the end, how well did they really know each other?

“Yeah,” Buck says. “With some real fucking bad feelings.”

“Oh thank god,” Eddie exhales.

For the first time since, Buck laughs.

“And you’re — I’m sure you’re not okay yet and apparently you’re sleeping on my couch but, you’re like….”

“I’m fine,” Buck promises. And he is, for now. Somewhat. Its like the moment after you get out of the water when you’ve been drowning. You feel like absolute two day old laundry and like the salt down your throat is going to pickle you from the inside out, but you’re not actively dying anymore. And so its better.

“And so you’re…here. Fixing my wall,” Eddie says.

“Trying to, anyway,” Buck says. “I’m not really great at making shit as it turns out. How was Texas? Besides the tamales.”

“It was…good,” Eddie says. He clears his throat and Buck looks up at him again. He’s taking a second to rub at his eyes. “Yeah, it was a good start, I think.”

“Good,” Buck says. “Good. I’m glad.”

Eddie’s hand drops to Buck’s shoulder and very gently, he squeezes. “Did you get a second spatula?”

“I wasn’t sure what kind to get, so, yes,” Buck says, fishing the second one out of the bag.

Eddie inspects the second spatula and the project on the wall.

“Why don’t we put this away for the night,” Eddie suggests. “And tomorrow maybe we can try making something together.”

[grimoireofhayley]

The Jealousy Monster

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie had known each other for years. However, at the beginning of Freshmen year, you found yourself falling head-over-heels for the boisterous personality and devilish-good looks that make up who Edward Munson is. Unfortunately, as soon as senior year came about, Eddie found himself hanging out with Chrissy Cunningham far more than you; because of that, the jealousy monster became your number one personality. 

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, swearing, fluff

My first time writing an Eddie Munson one-shot, let me know how it is, haha. I also tried my best at editing, but today my attention span is that of a goldfish. I hope you enjoy.

 I groaned, gripping my DynaTAC in my hand, rolling onto my stomach and kicking my slippers off my feet in frustration, the image of Chrissy Cunningham not leaving my mind. 

 "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I cried, staring at the bulky-white phone for a few seconds, contemplating whether I should call Eddie and tell him how I feel before it's too late, before Chrissy weasels herself in even more than she already has. 

 I bit my cheek, tears welling in my eyes and without hesitation, I threw my phone in vexation, "Stupid feelings, stupid Chrissy!" 

 The phone clattered against the wall, shattering into a million pieces, leaving a hole behind. 

 "Oh, no..." I whined, regretting what I had just done. I walked towards the broken phone, kneeling down, picking up buttons, sharp plastic and bits of drywall. 

"(Y/n)?" I hear a knock and then the door swung open, revealing my brother, Dustin Henderson. "Are you okay? I heard a bang..." He trailed, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, seeing the massive hole in the wall. 

I sighed, throwing the last pieces of what was left of my phone and wall into the garbage pail. "I'm fine, Dusty, just... stressed." I smiled half-heartedly, reassuring him. 

He nodded, not wanting to further his nit-picking. 

"Um, uh..." He began, "Will you be able to drive me to and from Hellfire tonight... If-If you're not busy, that is..." He mumbled, twiddling with his thumbs, he was nervous, which was unusual for him. 

 "Why are you sounding like that?" I queried, folding my arms over one another, questioning his tone. 

"Sounding like what?" He quickly spoke, avoiding my gaze again. 

"Like I'm going to bite off your head at any moment." I snorted, tapping my foot. 

"It's just, I heard you yelling and your phone is broken." He blathered. "Plus, there's a gaping hole in the wall." He gestured to it, "And let's not forget that you've been avoiding Hellfire altogether." He pointed an accusatory finger at me, "You're irritable lately." 

I huffed, dropping my arms to the side. "I have not been avoiding Hellfire, Dustin." I spat, ignoring the remainder of his sentences. "As a matter-of-fact, let's get going to that club, right now." I smiled sweetly, but Dustin gulped as I grabbed his wrist and we headed out the door.

•~•~•

Dustin waltzed through the doors to Hellfire, myself not far behind. I soon felt the anger building up slowly again as I glanced at who was in my seat (which was always next to Eddie), Chrissy Cunningham. 

Her hair tied tightly into a ponytail, wearing her cheer uniform, her notorious giggles reverberating in the room as she attempted to be cute, listening to Eddie's cheesy jokes. She was stunning, perfect, even. Everything that Eddie wanted, everything that I didn't have. 

I gritted my teeth, oozing with resentment and sadness as I stared at the two in front of me, chit-chatting away like no one else was in the room.

 I took it upon myself to change that, I was tired of feeling like this. "Hi, guys!" I shouted, trying to act casual, but the words dripped with venom. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie stuttered, quickly composing himself, baffled that I was here. He snickered soon afterwards, his usual-cockiness more defined. "Look who finally decided to join us!" He commented, clasping his hands together, staring at me. 

"Yeah, it's me, don't cream your pants, Munson." I retorted, rolling my eyes, and looked back at Chrissy, "I believe you are in my seat." 

"Oh, uh..." She whispered, playing with the hem of her skirt as if she was waiting for Eddie to say something. "Well?" I bit, "Are you going to keep sitting there, gapping at me like a fish out of water, or are you going to move, Pom Poms?" 

"S-sorry." She stuttered, abruptly standing up and headed towards a different chair, luckily it was at the far corner of the room.

 "Easy, Henderson." Eddie voiced, raising a brow, watching as I strode to my spot, clearly not understanding the change of demeanour. "It's just a spot..." He whispered, his voice smooth and velvety, if I wasn't so mad at him or Chrissy right now, I would've melted in my seat right then and there. 

"Oh boy..." Dustin rubbed his temples, "I knew this was a horrible idea." He whispered, just audible for me to hear, though, I ignored him. 

"You're right, it's just a spot, I'm sorry, Chrissy. Do you want it back?" I popped the K, tilting my head, waiting for her to answer. She shook her head 'no' and I grinned. "She doesn't seem to mind, Munson." I leaned back, "Go on, start." I gestured for them to embark on their campaign. 

"Alrighty, then!" Dustin swallowed a lump that seemingly formed in his throat, "Let's begin." He tried his hardest to cut the tension that corrupted the atmosphere, and for a moment, I felt bad, no one else had done anything wrong, it was just me being... jealous. 

•~•~•

 I couldn't help but notice Eddie's eyes on me, a concerned expression planted on his features. I shook him off, involuntarily sending him a distasteful glare, which caused him to seize back.

 I hated being so short tempered lately, especially with him, with Dustin, with everyone, really. I was usually timid, afraid to speak up, but I was also outgoing and cheerful when I wanted to be. I was once an easy person to talk to, but from what happened earlier before Hellfire, it's safe to say that I'm no longer that.

I had no one to blame, but myself, especially for the lack of control I had on my emotions.

 I lost my desire to be here, to be around Eddie, our friends, everyone. I quit Hellfire, I avoided my eccentric best friend at all costs because my feelings were embarrassingly strong for him. I was so scared of him finding out, so I left, but mostly because I couldn't stand being in the same room as him and Chrissy, I felt replaced. I felt alone.

I couldn't hangout with him because he was always doing things with her. 

I couldn't stand the fact that I had heart-eyes for him, where he had those same eyes for someone else. 

It killed me.

I balled my fist, slamming them on the table, causing everyone to stare at me. "I can't be here right now, Dustin, I'll wait for you outside, I shouldn't have agreed to drive you here tonight. I'm sorry. This was a mistake." 

With that said, I grabbed my things and went out the door in a hurry, tears threatening to spill from eyes. 

•~•~•

"Henderson!" I hear a familiar voice call.

"Shit." I mumbled, tossing my cigarette to the ground, stomping it out, quickly trying to find my car keys in my purse. 

"Hey, Henderson! Wait!" Eddie yelled, jogging over towards me. 

"Shit. Shit. Shit." I groan, fumbling with receipts, lipstick and gum packs, but no keys. "Where the fuck are they?!" I whined, kicking my tires.

"Woah, hey, hey." He stopped beside me, pressing his body against my vehicle.

"What do you want?" I utter, defeated.

He brought out his hand, dangling my keys in front of my face. "You left in such a hurry you forgot these." Eddie spoke, his famous shit-eating grin on his face. 

"Gee, thanks." I scowl, reaching for them.

Is that really all he wanted to come out here for; to give me my keys? 

Wow, that stun.

I went to grab them, but he lifted the keys up higher, my finger tips barely grasping onto them, "Real mature, Edward." 

 "What was that back there?" Eddie questions, ignoring my helpless attempts at reaching my keys. However, I could have sworn I seen a painful glint in his big eyes by the mere mention of his full name.

I narrowed my brows, taking a deep breath. "It was nothing." 

"It was not nothing, (Y/n), you snapped back there. Why?" He beckoned for me to answer, stuffing my only escape out of here into his back pocket, "What's gotten into you, lately? You're so...so--" 

"So, what, exactly?" I cut him off, "Bitchy, mean, short-tempered, tired?" I practically finished his sentence for him. "Why do you care?" I poked at his shoulder, harshly, shoving him back. "Huh? You never showed much interest about it until now." I hissed, my index finger digging deeper into his shoulder blade. 

He winced and I let my hand fall. 

"Yeah, precisely that." Eddie shot back, rubbing his shoulder. "You're cruel, Henderson, you know that?" He eyed me, "You stopped sitting with us at lunch, you stopped calling, you stopped showing up to Hellfire, only for me to find out from your brother that you quit." He grumbled, "When we do talk, which isn't very much might I add, you're snippy and hot-headed. What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to me, our noses barely touching. 

My face flushed from both closeness and anger. 

"Are you that dense, Munson?" I retaliated, catching him off guard. 

"What--" He trailed, and I only chuckled half-heartedly. 

"You're what happened, Edward." I breathed.

"Would you stop calling me that?" He clenched his fist and I snorted, waving my hand at him, looking down and sniffling, my waterworks starting. 

"Just go." I spoke softly, lending my hand out for him, "Give me my keys, Munson." 

Eddie took the keys out, but he hesitated.

"No." He snipped, "Not until you tell me what I did, I need to fix this, I need to fix us." 

I looked at him, a tear rolling down my cheek and I trembled, "I'm in love with you, you idiot." I blurt, "I have been since my freshman year!" I raised my voice, "But you started hanging out with Chrissy more and more each day, pushing me aside. I couldn't stand it, I was so hurt and embarrassed that I had to quit, I had to avoid you at all cost. I hated seeing you two together, I was jealous and I felt so alone, I wanted you, but you wanted her." I cried, wiping my nose.

I waited for him to say something, but minutes passed and he wasn't budging, just my luck, right? I confess to him and this is where he rejects me and our lasting friendship is ruined.

"Forget I said any--" 

I was cut off by a pair of lips crashing into my own, my eyes widened at the sudden touch. 

I was trapped in between the car and Eddie's body, his hand rested beside my head, planted firmly on the car. His knee between my thighs as his other hand gripped my waist, holding me up against him.

Eddie was kissing me, but why? 

He soon pulled away, a sheepish grin on his face, "God, I've been waiting to do that forever." He chuckled, looking me over. "I'm sorry I made you feel like that my sweet, sweet (e/c) eyed girl, Chrissy meant nothing to me, she was only helping me out with a promposal idea..." His face tinted pink, "I hate the idea of prom, but I wanted to do something special for you because I know how you dreamt of this day since we were kids, I wanted to give you your fairytale ending for high school, I wanted to go with you, as your date and hopefully as your boyfriend." Eddie smiled, grabbing my hands in his, "I love you, (Y/n) Henderson and only you." 

[tripleaxeldiaz]

this crown of thorns upon my liar’s chair

read on ao3

Buck doesn’t touch him until he takes the bat away.

He’s grateful for that, honestly. He barely knows up from down or left from right at the moment, fear and anger still coursing through him, thicker than blood and acrid in the back of his throat. Who knows what a comforting hand would have done to him so soon after he shattered.

But Buck waits, because he knows him. He doesn’t leave, his presence a lighthouse in the storm in Eddie’s head, and eventually, when the tears have slowed and his breathing has found a rhythm again, he reaches over. It’s slow, careful, like he doesn’t want to spook Eddie, which he very well could for all either of them know. He slides the bat out of Eddie’s lax, battered hands, and Eddie makes the mistake of looking him in the eyes again. They’re bright and sad, and the echo of the crack in Buck’s voice when he called out his name has made a home in his head, among the gunshots and shrapnel. 

He’s hurt someone he loves. Again. Because that’s all he’s good for, it seems.

Buck reaches over again, even slower than the first time, wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s wrist and squeezing. It’s the first sensation that hasn’t hurt since he hung up with Mills’ partner.

“I’m gonna go get Chris in bed, okay?” he says, voice still as shattered as the glass at Eddie’s feet. “Can you make it to the kitchen? We can clean this up later.”

Eddie nods, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to get as far away from this disaster he’s created as possible. Buck’s warm, solid hand moves down to grasp Eddie’s as he helps him up, steadying him when he stumbles, always there to catch him. He squeezes again before he leaves to get Chris, and it feels like the only thing holding Eddie together. 

Voices carry in from the hall.

“What happened?” High pitched, a little frantic, another stake in Eddie’s heart.

“Your dad got some bad news about an old friend.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

A pause — long, silent, yet still deafening.

“I don’t know, buddy. Let’s get those teeth brushed, okay?”

Their footsteps fade down the hall, and he’s alone, surrounded by collateral damage. He picks his way across the room as quickly as he can, trying not to focus on the broken pictures or ripped bedding or holes in the drywall, tangible reminders of his failure, his losing fight with his demons that he’d kept at bay for so long.

Frank would probably say it’s a good thing that they’re free now, out in the open for Eddie to dissect and analyze and overcome, eventually. His broken treadmill and terrified son say otherwise.

He can’t sit still when he gets to the kitchen, so he paces, tries to let the faint rumble of conversation from the bathroom tether him to reality. Chris is safe. Buck is here. That’s normally enough, but Eddie still feels hollow and wrung out, and he wonders if maybe this is just how things will be now. He cracked himself open along with the drywall, and maybe his pieces don’t fit back together anymore. 

The water shuts off and footsteps make their way back, and Eddie wants to run to Chris so badly, scoop him up and apologize and tell him everything will be fine, but he can’t. He doesn’t actually know if everything will be fine, and the biggest, darkest, worst demon is whispering in his ear, telling him that Chris doesn’t want to talk to him anyway. He’s scared of him now and all his poison that has come pouring out of every part of him tonight, and he’s never going to look at Eddie the same way ever again.

He doesn’t have time or energy to fight with the demon, so he faces the window and hunches in on himself, hoping he can make himself as invisible as possible so his son doesn’t see him at lower than rock bottom. The footsteps behind him don’t falter — they go into Chris’ room and are followed by the soft click of the door shutting.

He’s relieved, followed by guilty, followed by nauseous. This night cannot end soon enough.

The door opens and closes behind him again, and he knows he owes Buck an explanation. 

He could deflect — he could say he’ll be fine, that he’ll talk about it with Frank, thank Buck for coming and send him home. But he’s tired, so tired, of pretending, of putting on a show, of holding himself together with paper clips and prayers he doesn’t remember anymore. 

If you’re not being honest with Frank, at least be honest with me. You don’t have to pretend with me.

Maybe he should finally listen.

They sit at the table, and he tells Buck everything. About therapy, about Norwahl and Binder and Mills.

He tells Buck he’s afraid he’ll never feel normal again, and it’s the first truthful thing he’s said to anyone in months.

Buck’s quiet after, and Eddie can’t blame him. Part of him hopes he’ll leave, see that all of this is too much for him to handle and leave Eddie to deal with it alone like he deserves to. But a bigger part — the softer, honest part of him that’s been hurt the most tonight — desperately hopes he doesn’t. He’s not sure he’ll make it if he does.

He gets his answer soon enough — Buck stands, still moving slowly, and walks over to stop in front of him. Eddie can’t bear to look at him, keeps his eyes trained on his shredded knuckles and shaking fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Buck crouch down in front of him for the second time tonight, this time not hesitating to take both of Eddie’s hands in his. He’s quiet, waiting again, and Eddie knows with everything in him that Buck will wait forever, if that’s what Eddie needs.

He’s not really sure how to handle that.

When he finally tears his eyes away from their interlocked fingers, he’s met with the same bright, sad blue eyes from earlier, now tinged with sympathy and determination.

Buck’s not going anywhere. He knows that like he knows his own name. In another headspace, with another person in front of him, Eddie would’ve bristled, but he’s tired and flayed open, and it’s Buck, so it just feels like a balm, like it’s heaven sent.

“I’m scared,” he says, because it’s easier to say the second time.

“I know,” Buck says, “I am too.”

“I don’t know what to do, how to fix any of this.”

Buck smiles, soft and sad. “Me neither. But we’ll figure it out. Not today, probably not tomorrow, but we will.”

Eddie knows it’s not that simple. He’ll probably fall more times than he picks himself up. But he’s got no fight left in him tonight, so he lets himself believe it, if only until morning. He hangs his head again — half in defeat, half in exhaustion — and Buck meets him halfway, resting their foreheads together, anchoring them to this point, to this mess they’ve found themselves in, connected in more ways than they probably even know.

In the quiet of the house, in the aftermath of the atomic bomb, they breathe together. For now, it’s enough.