#so many typos oops

[runomye]

If kingsisle isn't gonna let me see my favorite boys again, I guess i gotta draw them myself

[sfsolstice]

exurb1a, from "Kitten Sicks" in Poems for the Lost Because I'm Lost Too

[lady-caden]

Tbh i think I'm aro/ace and maybe that's why relationships are so whatever for me and that's why I have a hard time telling between platonic vs romantic. Or at least I'm somewhere on the aro/ace spectrum

[lesbiangiratina]

Estament anthology 🔥

[aeinova]

NPC profiles!

ooc note: i'm setting this page up for all of the npc muses i have linked to nova. i realized that she talks a lot about all of these characters in her life, so this is me in an attempt to give them that life. discretion advised – anything listed is all FALSE and only used to ROLEPLAY.

name: kim myungsoo "L"

occupation: former member of idol boy group "infinite"; current ceo of unnamed company; head of underworld.

species: hellhound

age: ??? (31 years old to humans)

affiliation to nova: toxic ex-boyfriend.

fame level: international

weaknesses: unknown

k-netz know him as the pretty boy of the century. his visuals ooze with refreshing appeal, even now that he has aged from teenagehood. he started to pursue nova in 2012, when nova was just 18. both of them were pretty popular on the k-idol scene by that time. his true essence did not come to the surface until a tragic moment in his life; the passing of his father in 2014. when that happened, his father's devilish essence took ahold of him, making him the man he is today. in a few years, myungsoo has managed to become not only one of the richest men in south korea, but the head of all illegal underground trade. his obsession with nova is evident and very public, mentioning her in almost every interview as the "one who got away". in reality, he would abuse her every chance he got, in all ways. he will forever haunt her, both physically and mentally. that is, until someone is able to put him out for good. to the public, he is constantly mentioned in the news both negatively and positively, so many people should know him either by visuals or by the articles written about him. surprisingly enough though, he's willing to abide by nova's pleas in the times that he becomes conscious of his cruelty, meaning that nova might still have the upper hand in certain situations.

name: jessica jung

occupation: former k-pop idol of girl group SNSD; idol in china; wife to a rich hotelier; ceo of her own entertainment company.

species: human

age: 34

affiliation to nova: sister

fame level: international

jessica is considered a legendary idol who was banned from the korean entertainment scene. not much is known about what she does day to day, but she is constantly flying between seoul, san francisco, and hong kong to visit her family. she plays a big role in supporting nova through all her hardships. she disapproves greatly of myungsoo, and voices her opinion when she can if asked. besides that, she's a sweet soul, taking care of anyone who is dear to both her and her sister.

name: david kwon

occupation: husband to jessica; international hotelier

species: human

age: 36

affiliation to nova: brother-in-law

fame level: very minimal

husband to jessica. not mentioned too often. if anything, nova only stays at his hotels when she travels.

name: ????

occupation: ???

age: ????

species: satyr

affiliation to nova: head satyr of their fae society

not much is known. he only appears when something major happens to a fae or satyr (i.e injury, death, etc.) he has to approve all marriages and has to appear at the birth of each satyr/fae child.

[widevibratobitch]

You know I just have to. Philip and Rodrigo AND Carlos for the bingo

see this was actually a little tricky cause i didnt wanna be too repetitive but lets see

philip

rodrigo

carlos

[welcometothevale]

the fish: the fish becomes lost without clear goals and intentions. forever swimming in life’s current…is/was your muse lost? what are their intentions and motivations to keep moving forward? / Myra

I could go into after the whole trauma with captivity and friends dying and killing for the first time. But, old news. I rarely go into detail about Myra killing her father, who was a vampire. For context, in my lore all undead vampires are soulless, merciless, and are driven by instinct and morally grey at best desires. I won’t get into the mortal, living vampires because that’s a lot.

Human mothers can’t survive birthing a dhampyr child. Even without the institute reminding all the students of it, many would already come to view it as their father killed their mother. Hatred for vampires is stoked from birth to the age of 18. Myra made killing her father a goal at a rather young age.

When she finally crossed that off her list, she found she’d not planned for an ‘after.’ Myra figured she’d most likely die whether she succeeded or not. She floundered for a bit, stayed with Bo in his college dorm (unbeknown to the RA until she could get an apartment, and tried following Bo’s lead. That was to live a normal, human life. That left her restless and agitated most times. She was constantly on guard and stuck in her own head. She couldn’t hold down a job because she either stopped showing up or was fired for her sharp tongue.

Myra began going out most evenings in search of a fight and quickly began clearing vampires. Then every evening. Then she gave up on living in town and began to travel.

[wynnyfryd]

Eddie hesitates with his thumb hovering over the send button. The date tonight went so well. They've been on three so far, and honestly? Eddie's not even sure if Steve Harrington is a real human being or just some shroom-induced daydream of an old-school Hollywood star; he's so....

Sharp-nose-drowsy-eyes-blahblahblah-expression. High fashion model cool, he makes bored look hot; he acts like you're the only interesting thing in the whole room. Eddie's never been aloofly cool a goddamn day in his life (unless you count the villain characters he's played at the head of the Hellfire club, which—he's pretty sure actually suave characters don't get so keyed up with performance anxiety that they chug Mountain Dew out of a gold-painted "chalice" from the Dollar Tree just to have a moment to remember their next line.)

Point being, he doesn't want to fuck this up.

And he's pretty sure he's going to, because Steve kept glancing at his mouth all night, and now he's all worked up, and the question that's been worming its way through an apple core in the back of his brain has suddenly burst through the skin and demanded an audience.

And also?

It's too late to play guitar without pissing off his roommates and he needs something to do with his hands or he's going to die, so it's really either this or chew the skin around his fingernails until they get all gross and bleed. Steve would care about his health, right? So really, it's like.... it's like Steve basically encouraged him to ask this. I mean, he did, right? He prompted the question in the first place by responding to Gareth's dumbass prank profile. My friends call me Eds, but you can call me Daddy. Which is stupid for so many reasons, namely that no one even calls him that, but—well, now Steve calls him that. Steve calls him Eds, and it's actually kind of really charming the way he says it; how it slides out the side of a lazy smirk; his eyes a little closed; and—and Steve swiped right! He read the whole thing and still swiped right, so, so maybe it was a joke and maybe it wasn't, but regardless as his Gramma would say Eddie's near to working himself into a tizzy over the idea that Steve might want to call him the other thing, too.

....Fuck it.

Eddie: heyyy uh

Eddie: [cowboy_pewpew.gif]

Eddie: i had a really great time with you tonight

Eddie hits send and then panics a little, because he- he sent the pew pew gif? Why? Why the hell did he do that?

Steve: That feels ominous ha ha

Shit! Eddie deletes the paragraph of anxiety-induced excuses for his behavior and just generally who he is as a person and starts typing:

Eddie: no! no genuine GREAT TIME like

Eddie: !!!

Eddie: rly guf

Eddie: *guf

Eddie: GUD. DAMN IT

Steve's incoming call takes over his whole phone screen mid text-rant, so like, he's really not even sure if he can be faulted for how ridiculously quickly he answers—like, his finger was already right there.

Steve says, "You seemed like you were struggling," in that same tone he uses when he calls Eddie Eds. Jesus. Eddie can see the smirk so clearly it's like he's on a video call.

Oh, god. He's not on a video call, is he? Cause he definitely has, like, a little bit of goddamn drool on the edge of his mouth.

"Eddie? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah." It's muffled through the sleeve he's wiping his mouth off on. "Sorry, yeah, hi."

"Hi." There's a smile in his voice. He's doing that thing again. The model thing, where he makes Eddie feel like he's fascinating to listen to.

"Hi."

Which, clearly, Eddie isn't. Shit. His chest is gonna explode out of his chest. He's gonna find out he has some weird Russian nesting doll configuration going on in there or some shit, whatever; his heart feels like a bomb.

On the other side of the line, Steve takes a deep breath in, lets it out through his nose, so much slower than Eddie's. "Okay." There's a soft laugh, a beat where Eddie imagines him rolling his shoulders back and down, then, "You seem like you have something you want to say to me, so, as long as you're not trying to tell me you don't want to go out again— I mean, you could still tell me that. I wouldn't get mad or anything, it would just suck to hear because I like you, but—" Eddie's never heard him talk this fast before. "—I guess what I'm trying to say is." A deeper breath; pumping the breaks. "You can just tell me stuff. I'm not gonna, like, freak out on you or whatever."

There's the slightest wobble to it, a strain that suggests that maybe Steve's got a softer, squishy side tucked behind the prince charming smirk. Eddie wants to crawl inside and find it. "Okay," he exhales; here we go. "So like, obviously you know Gareth screwed with my Tinder bio the night we matched."

"Yeah."

"And uh- and I know that you said you swiped because you thought it was funny."

"I thought it was insane, actually. And also I was bored and drunk."

"Wow. Killer blows to my ego over here, Steve."

"Sorry," he laughs, "I did think you were really hot, too, though, if that helps."

"It does not."

"Aw, come on," and his voice goes slinky again like a cat stretching its spine, "It's got to help a little bit, right?"

"Oh, my god." Eddie's voice cracks.

The smirk is audible. "Are you blushing?"

Jesus H. Christ. He's blushing so fucking badly.

"Because you look cute when you're flustered."

"Steve." Eddie squeezes his eyes shut; begs mercy. Goddammit is this shit embarrassing, and Eddie's got to get away from it, got to spit it out of his mouth before it corrodes his tongue or something, got to— "DO YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO CALL ME DADDY OR NOT? Because I'll be honest, Steve, I'm not totally sure I'm into that, and I don't even know if I could do a good job of that for you, but I am pretty good at roleplaying for D&D, and I do also like you a whole lot and think you're hot and would be open to trying—I mean, shit, uh, whatever with you, I guess; I mean, maybe not the real weird stuff, but—"

He only cuts himself off when Steve's cackling gets so loud it starts blowing out his speakers. "Eddie," Steve chokes through long peals of laughter—showing off his teeth, Eddie can picture it: the angles and ridges, the holds Eddie would use to climb inside him and look around. Shit. Maybe he is into the real weird stuff. "Eddie, I'm—you—"

Steve takes eight seconds to calm down and catch his breath. Eddie knows that, because he was counting, so as to not lose his goddamn shit waiting for Steve's official government response to the natural disaster he just unleashed on the state of Indiana.

"To be clear," he says when he collects himself, "I did swipe because it was funny, I was drunk, I'm pretty sure I'm not really into that one, either, but I'm willing to try basically anything once. Also..."

Oh, no.

"I meant it when I said you look cute when you're flustered."

"Je-suuuuus."

"Hey," Steve purrs, "maybe you could call me that."

It's...

Hmm.

Eddie feels himself making kombucha girl faces, because, like, there is something kind of conceptually hot about the power play, something kind of peeling the paint off the edges of his brain at the thought of Steve keeping that supermodel calm while he bosses him around, but also— Ugh. Yeah. No. His dad's a fucking dick. "I think I'm good," he snorts. "No judgement or whatever."

"No judgement."

They're quiet for a moment, but it's nice. A warm, pretty bubble before it pops in soapy swirls. Eddie thinks if they were in person they'd be pinky-promising. "Maybe... we could, uh. Talk about. What we are into, sometime. Maybe try some of it out on the next date?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "Yeah, whenever." There's a sound like he's biting his lip, the wet click of his tongue against the back of his teeth. Eddie knows the smirk's back. "Just text me."

Steve’s drunk and sad at a party and doom-swiping through Tinder when he comes across this profile:

Eddie, 21

guitarist, dm, dipshit, six time ass eating world champ 💪 🌎 my friends call me Eds, but you can call me Daddy

“What the fuck?” Steve laughs to himself. First time he’s really laughed all night, actually; this party kinda blows.

He slinks down further into the couch, takes another sip of hunch punch and tilts his phone so no one sees him swiping right on this shit. It’s obnoxious. Like, objectively. He’s just…

Bored.

And curious. Surely that bio has never actually worked for the guy, right?

Steve swipes.

It’s a match.

He snorts to himself again, sends a message before he can overthink it.

Steve: Hey, Eds. That’s kind of a bold move, isn’t it?

Message sent, he goes to back out of the app; doesn’t really expect an answer this close to midnight on a Saturday night — only losers use Tinder at this time of night, and what the fuck does that make him? — but then Eddie starts typing.

Eddie: hey, cutie :) what is?

Steve: Uhh…

Jesus. Why is he blushing? He’s not the one who wrote a wildly aggressive hookup bio. Guy might as well have sharpied DTF on his forehead.

Steve: Your bio? 🫣

Eddie: huh?

Eddie: i mean, dnd can get a little spicy on occasion but i’d hardly call it scandalous

Steve: What’s that?

Is it a sex thing? It’s probably a sex thing.

Eddie: okay, what?

Steve: What? I’m so confused lol

Eddie must be, too, because it takes him a few seconds to answer, and when he does he just says:

Eddie: hold pls

Steve holds. Takes a big gulp of his drink and winces; pretty much all vodka at the bottom.

Eddie is typing and then he isn’t, then he is again and then he’s not, and Steve frowns at his empty cup and wonders if he’s already fucked up the one interesting thing that’s happened to him all night.

Finally, finally, a new message pops up.

Eddie: ………god. DAMN it, Gareth 😤😤😤😤

[thatfizzyyyy]

please follow me on twitter at UMFIZZ 🩷 im more active there

[sfsolstice]

exurb1a, from "Last Date" in Poems for the Lost Because I'm Lost Too

[kirsctein]

x

[swampybogg]

Gosh!! ヽ(˵ ▨-▨¬˵)̄ノ💖💖💖 You really marked the point when you said that they still weren't creating something original, I wasn't giving it more deeper thought and ruminating of Dreaming's words I think it goes hand in hand with the superficiality of the nobility…

The grandiose castles dotted with hundreds of fake windows, hollow spires, self powered carriages still led by a dozen horses. The only objects of beauty that they're creating is all inherently superficial. To distance themselves from humanity, and put forth a claim and image of their superiority. But then, after all that, what is there left of their art?

There is nothing deeper. They'll create portrait after portrait, they'll paint the night filled with the scientific abominations they created, and if it wasn't destroyed paintings of their longing of what only the humans have. Even the only human visual artist - obsessed with become one of the nobility- only creates as a tool to take advantage or harm others, even those with the thoughts of becoming nobility are completely corrupted by it's spirit ( Rose Princess....)

I think it's a really compelling thought that the nobility would rather turn down further creation in the name of bloodlust. Everyone who is a descendant of the nobility are cursed by it. I mean, even D, the so called only success is afflicted by it! But instead of chowing down on some necks he's mowing them down with his sword. Imagine what he could have created if it wasn't ingrained in the nobility's DNA…Weirdly enough, all of it reminds me of those drawings that serial killers/murders in prisons would make actually, you can sense that something crucial is missing in those creations.

Potentially a fundamental lack of spirituality? ( Gold Fiend spoilers [as it is recent] I would say soul too, but gold fiend basically confirms that they do in fact have one….Though their souls still seem to be distinct from humans, it's only ever mentioned nobles reincarnating into nobility a new). Vampires are abominations of god, symbols of holiness repels them, that hollowness presents themselves in their creations.

Well essentially, they're masquerading as something that they're not, the evolution of mankind, when in reality they truly are monsters driven by an inescapable bloodthirst. And even if they were able to keep it in check by constitution alone, who's to say it didn't plaque them to the point it renders them unable to do something else? In the Tyrant's Stars mental health facility there's no mention of therapeutic arts, they seem to be using only SA's left behind energy.

There is no true love found in the nobility, they don't have a love of life. They cannot truly enjoy life - they are beings created to sap from it like disgusting leeches. Unoriginality is their curse, it's their doom, and it became their extinction.

Can Nobles create art themselves? I wondered because I don't remember any examples. Only that they made humans do it - someone wrote songs/plays, I remember? Or the girl who played the harp in the second Greylancer book. The singer that Valcua loved to listen to. Or maybe some humans just wanted to do it? That artist from the first book who drew SA's portrait

I'm just thinking that I don't remember any Noble doing this, but maybe I'm wrong. I wonder if there is any explanation for this (other than they just don't want to)

[nilla03]

𝑩𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 ✰

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡：𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑏

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖，𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦

Nanami wasn't thrilled about you going out, but he let you go. You had pouted, kissed his jaw, and assured him you'd be safe, promising to text him throughout the night. He trusted you-of course, he did-but that didn't mean he liked the idea of you in some dark, crowded club, surrounded by drunk men who wouldn't know how to keep their hands to themselves.

Still, he kissed your forehead before you left, his large hands squeezing your waist as he muttered, "Be good."

You had every intention of listening. Really, you did.

But a few drinks in, and things started getting a little hazy.

You were laughing with your friends, dancing under the dim neon lights, feeling warm and weightless as the alcohol pulsed through your veins. You had been texting Nanami like you promised-little updates here and there-but at some point, your replies got lazy, a few too many typos slipping in, and then... nothing.

That's when he decides to come get you.

By the time Nanami arrived, you were at the bar, giggling at something your friend said, a drink in your hand that you were already too tipsy to finish. He spotted you instantly-your pretty outfit, your glossy lips, the way your jewelry caught the low lights. You looked like a doll, and you were practically glowing, but the moment his sharp eyes landed on you, all he felt was irritation.

Of course, you had gotten carried away.

You didn't even notice him at first, too busy swaying to the music, but the second a warm, familiar hand touched the small of your back, you gasped. You turned, blinking up at him with wide, glassy eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

"Kento!" you chirped, stumbling a little as you reached for him. "You came!"

Nanami exhaled through his nose, steadying you with one firm hand. "Of course I did," he said, his voice even. "You stopped answering your phone."

"I did?" You frowned, pulling out your phone and squinting at the screen like the little device had betrayed you. "Oops..."

Nanami only shook his head. "We're going home."

You pouted, clinging to his arm. "But I was having fun."

"I can see that," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to the way your dress had ridden up from all your dancing. His jaw clenched.

"Come on, sweetheart. We're leaving."

The ride home was quiet.

You sat in the passenger seat, still tipsy, playing with the hem of your dress, stealing little glances at Nanami He was gripping the wheel tightly, his jaws is expression unreadable.

You knew that look.

He wasn't angry-not really-but he wasn't happy either.

When you pulled into the driveway and he helped you out of the car, his hands steady on your waist, you leaned into him with a dramatic sigh.

"Kento," you whined, tilting your head up to look at him. "Are you mad at me?"

His golden-brown eyes flickered down to you, his fingers tightening slightly around your waist. "No," he said, calm as ever.

You let out another little whimper, pressing against his chest. "I just wanted to have fun," you mumbled. "Now l wanna feel good..."

You curled your fingers into his shirt, tilting your face up for a kiss, but he only exhaled sharply through his nose.

"No."

Your brows furrowed, and you let out a small, needy sound as he pulled you inside, guiding you toward the bedroom.

You thought he was going to give in, but instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap-his thigh, to be exact.

You blinked, confused for a moment. "Kento?"

"If you're so desperate," he murmured, his hands resting heavily on your waist, "you can help yourself."

Your face burned as you realized what he meant. Your thighs squeezed together on instinct, your hands resting on his broad shoulders,

"That's mean," you whispered, trying to shift in his lap, but his grip tightened.

"You were being a brat tonight," he said, his voice low and unwavering.

Your breath hitched.

He was warm beneath you, his thigh firm and unyielding as he kept you still. You squirmed, just a little, testing him, but his fingers dug into your waist, keeping you in place.

"Go on," he murmured, voice deep and smooth. "Show me how bad you want it."

Your lips parted slightly, embarrassment and arousal mixing in your chest, but you listened.

You shifted against his thigh, feeling the friction immediately, and let out a soft, desperate little whimper.

Nanami exhaled through his nose, watching you with sharp, dark eyes.

You whined again, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, but you didn't stop moving. His thigh was so firm beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your breaths coming out in short, needy little gasps.

Nanami hummed, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

Your body was trembling-hot, desperate, on the edge-but Nanami still wouldn't budge.

His hands stayed firm on your hips, guiding you over his thigh, keeping the movements slow, controlled, not enough.

You were falling apart, your whimpers turning into soft little sobs as you rocked against the hard muscle, your slick staining his slacks, making a mess of him-but he didn't seem to care.

"You're crying again," he murmured, voice smooth, unaffected. His eyes moved down to where your hips stuttered against his leg. "Pathetic."

You were pathetic, and you didn't care.

You sniffled, rubbing your teary cheek against his chest, trying again to grind harder, to chase the relief you needed, but his grip tightened, forcing you back into that slow, agonizing pace.

"K-Kento," you gasped, nails digging into his arms.

"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You can finish, sweetheart-but only if you do it my way."

You let out a broken little whimper, nodding frantically, your body twitching against him. "I-I will," you hiccupped, pressing your face against his shoulder. "Please, I-I c-can't-"

Nanami hummed, finally letting you move again-but not how you wanted.

He controlled it-pressing your hips down harder against his thigh, making you grind exactly how he wanted, dragging you over the fabric just right, making the friction sharper, deeper, more.

You sobbed, your fingers curling into his shirt, your thighs squeezing around him as the pleasure hit, sharp and overwhelming, making your whole body tremble as you came with a choked little gasp.

Nanami exhaled slowly, watching you shake in his lap, his grip loosening just slightly, smoothing over your soft, overheated skin.

"There you go," he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "That's my girl."

You hiccupped, still trembling, still trying to catch your breath as he rubbed slow circles into your back, grounding you, keeping you close.

"Messy little thing," he sighed, his voice softer now, amused.

You sniffled, pressing a weak little kiss to his jaw, blinking up at him with glossy, exhausted eyes.

"Still mean," you mumbled, breathless.

Nanami sighed, brushing your hair back from your sticky, flushed skin. "You're exhausting."

But he was soft with you now, gentle-pulling you close, letting you curl against him, keeping his big hands warm and steady on your body, even though you'd ruined his pants, even though you'd whined and begged like a spoiled little brat.

[linda-rose]

Rewatched "200" yesterday and I still can't stop thinking about this scene:

"What do we do now?"

"We call in reinforcements"

It's such a powerful moment like. He's just so matter of fact and knows immediately this is the best idea and Emily is SO ready to fly the fuck back even after all this time without skipping a single beat. IT'S SO GOOD!!!

[duchessvultjag]

a really good podcast is the only way to motivate me to actually clean/cook and dear god am i picky with podcasts

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis