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himbosandhardwear · 6 months ago

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Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

#i might save this to flesh out later #who knows #steddie #ficlet #my writing

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motheyes · 2 years ago

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pushed a huge ass tonsil stone out of my throat

#like damn how do y’all even get in there #whatever tho i got it out #um. i need to just sleep rn #i cut my finger at work idk how it even happened #and the burn on my hand is going through the peeling / scab phase #been keeping a band aid on it at work and stuff #can’t believe i did that while frying tofu just my luck fr

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trulyumai · 7 months ago

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Blinded by the Flame

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Warnings: Blood, Death.

Synopsis: Left bloodied and blinded, Messmer searched. Not for revenge, but for his wife.

A/N: So, this fucking sunflower boss is kicking my ass. Im cooked.

Enjoy the story!

“Ah! Mother, please!” In the middle of the room, sat the legend of the flames.

He balled up in agony, his fingers covered his face— his eyes entirely.

Blood seeped between the crevices of his digits, his eyes burned with an itch, a feeling he wanted to tear out.

“For how could I— your spawn, be subjected to such a monstrosity of an ending?” The man cried out, his deep wails echoed throughout the chambers around his being.

Messmer mumbled incessantly, begging and twitching as his vision blackened.

He had to gain control— before the chaotic numb feeling goes too far, before his mind slips away completely.

Think of the throne

Think of the order

Think of…

“Wife,”

He called out, saliva dripped down in a reddened pace between his lips.

Messmer reached out to nothing, to the blackness that surrounded him.

“Wife!” He wailed

“Don’t— don’t leave me alone!”

The lanky man keeled over, his hands beat against the wooden floor with fury.

“A-Answer me! Your husband— your Lord demands it!”

With a slurred speech, he crawled, began to move toward where he thought the door might be.

His hand met with a stone wall, it stood firm against his blood covered palms.

He couldn’t think- couldn’t remember the size of the room, the chamber at all for that matter.

The pain was piercing his mind, it left fire in its wake.

“Augh—“

The knight continued his mission, persisted onto finding the exit, the way to his home- his love.

Knees now scratched and molded over with scabs, he stopped his movement, as something cold came into contact with his dirtied palm.

Shakily a pale arm reached down once more and with his posture bent, he leered over the object.

It was fleshy, wet with a warming substance and–

“No,”

Firm hands acted, looked for proof that could refuse the perverse thoughts invading his mind.

“No, no, no!”

Shaky fingers guided their way to a hand, it was soft, so small that he could cover it whole with his own.

He came into contact with a cold metal, a band that had been wrapped around the person's finger.

His darling wife’s finger.

“—Ah! No, this— this is a warning- a vision, it's a farce!”

Not bothering to stop the blood from pouring down his chin, it fell atop of the bloodied woman.

Her eyes remained closed, the middle of her person laid into a deep maroon color.

As best as the weakened knight could, the woman was pulled towards him. She rested upon his lap like a deity.

Her head was angled towards him, it sagged into the man’s chest instantly.

He smelled the apples— the Elder flowers that clung onto her stilled skin.

There was no denying, it was his love that lay crumpled in his arms like a wilted lily.

Only his cries were heard through the chamber, bouncing off the walls with ease as his wails got louder and louder.

The cries were wet, uneven hiccups accompanied the tears.

As if nature mourned her loss; thunder boomed, rain seeped down to drench the land and the wind howled beneath the winking stars.

The man’s shoulders shook, he howled— it was too much, too far beneath the golden rays he was promised.

Burying his head into her neck the man refused to move.

His kin could walk through the gates now— with a cure for his blindness yet he would say put.

For his protective reign is over.

Now that his purpose lay still and quiet.

His grip tightened, wide knuckles turned white with pressure.

“Thy will bury it all in flame,”

His voice but a whisper among the pelting rain.

“I will offer it all; and join thee with the heads of the filthy accusers, who dare put thy to rest.”

Biting down on his cheeks, more crimson seeped down with unwanted reign.

“Rest, my wife,” his forehead met with hers, the surface sticky and wet.

“My love will hold me here—“

“—nnnghh,”

Thin red brows raised, with his mouth agape he let out a noise like no other.

“Darling, love, please!” He didn’t know what he was begging for, but it came out in unseen repetition

Her mind was foggy, vision even more so as her arm raised above her being.

It felt as if daggers pierced through her chest, and needles laid about her arms like unseen birthmarks.

“–mer, Messm—“

“I’m here! Gods, I’m— lovely, hear thy cries, please!”

The voice sounded like it was under rubble, or even perhaps miles of sand and dirt.

She felt the light touches, how they guided their way on her cheeks, her jaw.

It was a loving, soft touch made by roughened hands.

Familiar hands.

Tears struck her bloodied cheeks, a sloppy smile graced her expression.

He hadn’t left her afterall— after the fall, the oncoming of soldiers, he was here, by her side.

Grunting out a low groan, words fled her cut lips in a rush.

The woman’s words slurred together, and the man tried to make sense of them.

“Slow down, my wife, slow—“

“Es, mess, yo— your eyes!”

On queue, the blackened holes throbbed. Dark pits of ash wobbled down the crevices and met the material of his armor.

“Shhh, Darling, it will be alright, it will be alright.”

Her lips shook with a new level of fear, of total shock.

“I will take care of it— mother will help. I— it will be alright.”

“She is the cause of such damnation, how will she help?” Taking her hand in his larger one, Messmer placed kisses upon each finger.

The woman gaped up at him.

“Why are you so calm, aren’t you angry— hurt?”

“I… was,” He replied. Still distracted by the kisses he laid upon her skin.

“But thy are here to calm such a flame, hm?”

The red knight pushed his woman closer, till the cheek of her face mushed against his dirtied armor.

“Let us get fixed, then such a discussion can be demanded.”

Ignoring the woman's constant worried touches, a smile adorned his face.

He wasn't alone, his wife lay huddled between his arms. The unspoken horror lay hushed beneath his heel, stomped and winded.

Although he was blinded, left to die on his own, he could continue his push to the capital.

For the prophecy has already been foretold.

The kingdom will be left in ash; with only his wife and him to huddle in the flames of ambition.

#messmer x reader #messmer the impaler #messmer elden ring #elden ring x you #elden ring x reader #elden ring dlc #Messmer the impaler x reader #video game x reader #Spotify

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faux-parenchyma · 3 months ago

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[Minecraft winter drop spoilers but it’s just from the Minecraft socials]

So obviously Minecraft has just come out with some new blocks that are going into testing on bedrock for the winter drop. And like, man I’m SO excited yall should have hopped on sooner.

This test implements the eye blossoms, which bloom as eyes only at night, as well as resin blocks from the trees. Once again, I cannot keep emphasizing just how much each of these little details makes it seem like the pale garden is going for the route of something truly *alive*.

Obviously, I don't mean alive in the sense of a general ecosystem, because of course it is, but something so ancient, and massive like the aspen Pando, and almost sort of aware. It is silent in the day, it notices the players presence, the lack of mobs makes the land safe, if not a bit tense. It needs to protect itself at night, so its puppets, the *limb* of the garden, stand in the dark ready to defend. Now, the eye blossoms, telling by the name could become part of the gardens sensory system, considering just how dark the land becomes each night. How else would the garden know to send its puppets out, to recognize threat, which very well could be you? And the resin, which in my opinion is one of the most interesting, could become the pale gardens final attempt at self-preservation. Often, trees use resin to act as a sort of scab or Band-Aid, and it very obviously knows its way around defense systems, why not go the extra mile? The garden knows you're hurting it, though I do wonder to what extent of feeling. And all for a set of wood.

#nullscript #minecraft #mineblr #the creaking #pale garden

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stormyelliotwritez · 1 month ago

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SCRATCHING AND SCARRING

this is gonna be so self indulgent

mentions of reader being called pup, age difference (still legal but hes like 200 so there’s bound to be one), reader scratching and picking at scabs, blood

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Logan had needed to get away for a bit so he’d packed a bag and gone on a bike trip to a nearby cabin. You’d stayed back at the mansion to finish off some work and do some extra stuff.

He came home a day or so before you thought he would. When he did, you were sitting at your desk and grading papers. He walked in as quiet as a mouse which was always surprising. You were scratching a scab on your arm and he crossed his arms.

“You said you’d stop,” he huffed.

You turned around in your chair and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He nodded at your arm and frowned. You glanced at your arm. It was just a scab.

“It’s just a habit. I got stressed. You get stressed and fuck off to the mountains for days. Can’t I have this?” You said, raising your voice slightly.

He stalked towards you and stopped a meter or so in front of you, his arms still crossed. He glanced between your face and the scab.

“It’s bleeding,” he said quietly, his expression not changing.

You glanced down, saw the blood and then jumped up and rushed towards the bathroom connected to you twos room. Logan slowly followed, ready to jump in if you’d ran into something or hurt yourself more. You grabbed some band aids from the first aid kit and sat on the toilet.

He watched from the doorway and sighed. “Need a hand?”

You looked up at him, your expression not unlike a scared puppy, and nodded. He closed the gap between the two of you and took a band aid out of your hand and opened it. With the most gentle care, he put it over the now open wound and then leaned down and kissed it.

“I get that it’s a compulsion, bub, but we need to work on this, okay? It ain’t healthy to tear into yourself like this. You can’t keep scratching and picking,” he said softly before taking your hand and leading you to the bed you shared.

You dragged your feet and eventually, he just picked you up and dumped you on the bed.

“Hey, you can’t do that,” you squealed before bursting into giggles.

“I think I can, pup,” he said with a smile before climbing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.

He didn’t call you pup much. It usually came out when he was worried. You were part of his pack so he had to protect you and you were young as well so he had to guide you. He had to keep you safe. You’d never felt safer than when you were in his arms.

He rubbed your back and hummed softly. You turned your head and breathed him in. You rubbed your face against his shirt. You loved him so so much. He just kept saving you.

He laid down and pulled you with him. Gently, he laid you down next to him so he could pull his shirt off. He pulled it off and then picked you right back up. When you scared him like this, you stayed in his arms for ages. He knew you were safe, but you were safer in his arms.

“Sleep, pup, alright?” He said quietly into your ear.

You nodded and the thoughts of scratching left your mind. You slowly fell asleep, protected by him. He kept watch for a while before falling asleep as well.

#stormy writes things #x reader #x m!reader #x male reader #logan howlett x male reader #wolverine x male reader #hehehehe #i love this sm #logan x male reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader

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bloodykora · 6 months ago

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Scrapped Knees

Hehe I just started writing and this came out. Hope yall enjoy, more stalker mc content.

MDNI this game is 18+ therefore so is my writing. TW: mentions of blood, and the normal yandere tropes TKATB List

'Hey so uh I may be a smidge late. I totally did not fall and scrape the fuck outta my knees. :)'

You hit send and wait, looking down to your legs that are now dripping with blood. The concrete making a perfect target. You glance back to the phone, those three familiar dots appearing as Sol quickly typed back.

'Oh wow, where? I'll just meet you there with some bandages. Don't hurt yourself further.' Your face pops into a huge grin while reading his text, you look around for a place to sit. Finding a curb where you could plant while you waited.

'I'm like.. a block and half down from the cafe. But I can meet you!' You text back, taking your bag off and setting your phone down. You pull your legs near your face, observing at the carnage when you hear your phone buzz again.

'No, stay. I'm coming.' You smile and shake your head a bit, giggling at how easy it was. Bait set and trap. Not very easy to fall just enough to only damage your knees, speaking of. Your gaze falls to them again, using your fingers to pry out the few rocks that had settled into the wound.

It wasn't long until the sound of steps echoed closer to you, relaxing your legs out instead of being scrunched up. You turn to look down the road, Sol speed walking with a plastic bag in one of his hands and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.

"Hehe hi, sorry about this." You sheepishly spoke as he approaches you, setting both of the bags he had down along with yours. He immediately kneels down to look at your legs, gently taking them into his hands. Heat of embarrassment building in your body as you watch his eyes.

"You need to be more careful." His tone darker then normal, flutters of butterflies in your chest as you hear his words. Need to be more careful, careful for him because he cares. He practically rips open the bag. Gauze and bandaids, cotton balls along with two bottles of water. Even some pain meds.

"Where did you get all that?" Turning your head to the side a bit in confusion as you eye all the supplies. He cracks a top of one of the bottles off, taking out a few cotton balls before pouring some water on them. Dabbing it to the scrapes.

"I ran to the little store down the road. They luckily had this stuff." Your smile grows wider at his words. "Sol thats so nice!" The words spill out before you can even think about them. A small blush now filling his cheeks as you reach out to hold his arm. Rubbing along his long sleeved shirt.

The stinging of the cuts barely being noticeable as he touches your skin. Sticking dried blood now being wiped up, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling when he throws a cotton ball out. It goes quiet as the sun begins to set, orange skies casting over the pair of you.

He begins to open the band aids, choosing which size would fit over your knees best. You admire him, taking in his hair, his face, his piercings, his black painted nails, the way his eyes fix into a stare as he begins to concentrate on something. He places two band aids on one knee, covering the now beginning to scab parts. He then begins to repeat with the other.

"When you're all done, are you gonna kiss my boo boos better?" You ask earnestly, his stare blanks for a second before a small smile appears on his face. "If you really want me to." His smile turns into a smirk at your face blanking, your ears burning. It quiets down again as he finishes patching you up, gentle with his touch.

"Do you want any pain killers?" He asks, finally looking back up to your face as you shyly shake your head no. He then keeps eye contact with you as he lofts your knee to his face, closing his eyes softly. Then pressing his lips to the bandage. Your hands fly up to your face, covering your face. Too embarrassed to even look at his face afterwards. A low chuckle hits your ears causing you to shake your head in reply.

"Uhh anyways!" You shout behind your hands, trying to change the topic. Peaking out as he tucks the extras into his bag. "Its gonna be dark soon now, how about I walk you home?" You remove your hands and agree, smiling as he puts his hand out for you to take to get up.

"Yeah! And we can finish up the assignment there too." He nods as you two start walking as the street lights begin to turn on around you.

#solivan brugmansia #solivan brugmansia x reader #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back #sol x reader

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