#there’s actually a few different lines in this song that stick out to me but they’re so brief and random

[finderseeker]

I know this is the stupidest possible way to have a character's voice in your head but I've been writing DDAU Tempest with this one specific clip of a Stupendium song in mind. His entire voice is pretty much based off of like a 8 second clip that's three sentences long.

Well. Okay. Actually it's kind of evolved from this now that I'm listening again BUT, this is what I keep hearing in my head. I just don't know the name of this exact accent. It's not NY. It's not quite Boston. I don't know what it is but it's something like that.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Showed Me (How I Fell In Love With You)

masterlist

summary: dean helps you up your flirting game, but there’s really only one set of eyes you want on you.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, strands of hair falls on reader’s face

author’s note: you probably already know this but sideblogs (like this one) can now answer comments!! super excited about this update and fingers crossed the next one is for sending asks lol 🤞💞

music: showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer — i was listening to this song and kept imagining dean, idk

Dean always had incredible luck with women. He could go into a bar crowded with guys and walk out with the only woman—the bartender who’d been dodging men all night.

You, on the other hand, could go into that same bar and end up going back to the motel alone. It bothered you; what in the hell were you doing wrong?

So, you did the unthinkable—you asked Dean to help you get better at flirting.

That’s how you ended up here at the bar with Dean; he was showing you how to play pool. You had protested the idea of him “teaching you” something you already knew, but he claimed it was important.

“You’re standing wrong,” he told you when you were about to break.

“Uh, no I’m not?”

“If you’re trying to win the game, you’re doing great. If you’re trying to get your opponent to fuck you, you’re failing miserably.”

“Thanks,” you grumbled.

“Hey, you were the one who asked me for help!” He shrugged. “If you want to back out now-”

“No, I don’t want to back out,” you sighed. “I’m fucking desperate at this point.”

“So, are you gonna do what I say, then?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “How am I supposed to stand?”

He walked up behind you and put his hands on your hips.

“Stick your butt out a little,” he instructed and you did as he asked. “Alright, now when you bend over,” he moved his hands up and forward, resting them on your lower chest, “you’ll want to point your breasts in the direction of the person you want to attract.”

“What if he’s standing behind me?” you asked.

“Then his eyes are gonna be glued to your ass,” he replied, not getting the message. “If he’s standing behind you then focus more on the actual game, and less on where you’re pointing your boobs. Trust me, though, if he’s standing in front of you, he’s gonna be trying to see down your shirt, now…” he walked back around to the other side of the table. “Bend over, and before you hit the ball, make eye contact with him.”

“Okay…” You bent down and lined up your shot before looking up and into Dean’s eyes.

“Perfect! If you look at him kinda like through your eyelashes, there’s exactly one thing that’s suddenly stuck front and center in his mind.”

“And this works on…all guys?” you asked, still looking at him through your lashes.

“If he was standing where I am and didn’t want to fuck you, he’s either related to you or just not into chicks.”

“Good to know,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. You were about to start the game but a few strands of hair fell on your face.

“Don’t move,” Dean said before he hurried back to where he had been before and tucked the hair behind your ear for you. “Now, since he’s already thinking about that one thing, is that something you want him to think about even more?”

“Um, yeah,” you said quietly.

“Alright, pout your lips,” he instructed. He moved his hand down from your ear and tugged your lip out a bit. “Perfect, that’s gonna draw his attention to your lips.”

“So, now I start actually playing the game?” you asked, not sure if he had any more pointers for you.

“If you want. Or we can go over to the bar where there are three different guys that have been eyeing you the past ten minutes.”

“Really?” you stood up straight, whipping your head around. You saw the guys he was talking about and they all quickly looked down at the drinks in front of them. “Let’s go to the bar, then.”

“So, now that you know all those guys are interested,” Dean said as you both took your seats at the bar, several stools away from the other people already there, “you need to pick one.”

“Isn’t that the easy part?” you laughed a little.

“Oh no, most guys are monsters.” Dean shook his head, motioning the bartender over with his hand. “What’re you drinking?” he asked, looking at you.

“Just a beer’s fine,” you said, a little confused. Usually when you, Sam, and Dean went out drinking you each ordered your own drinks. Dean took initiative and ordered two beers. “And I know before taking someone back to my room I have to do the usual tests; holy water, iron, and silver.”

“Not those kinda monsters, sweetheart,” Dean said. “The guy on the far right has a little motor home keychain attached to his keys. Given the fact there’s a dilapidated RV parked outside that looks like a serial killer’s lair, I’d say he’s a creep.”

“Well, what about the guy in the middle?” you asked.

“I heard him talking with someone on the phone in the bathroom earlier about the fact his ex-girlfriend doesn’t know she got the clap from him.”

“Dear lord,” you groaned, making a disgusted face. “What’s wrong with the guy on the left?”

“Well, uh…” Dean started, looking at the man you were talking about and trying to find something wrong with him. “Nothing. If he comes over here, I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

“Shouldn’t I go and talk to him?” you asked.

“Oh no! No, no, no! Bar like this, pretty girl like you; he’ll think you’re a hooker.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, unless you wanna make a couple hundred bucks tonight?” he teased, earning a smack to his upper arm. “I’ll take that as a no,” he laughed.

“I’d make at least four-hundred,” you scoffed.

“Look, you’re cute and sweet and guys tend to turn their heads when you walk by them. Now, for your next lesson, take a look around the bar and tell me how many women you see.”

You looked around, counting in your head. “Five, including me and the bartender,” you said.

“And how many guys?”

“I’d say like twenty at least?” you estimated.

“Exactly,” he said. “See, at least half of those guys have their eyes on you. When we were playing pool earlier I guarantee you they’d have done anything to be where I was.”

“So…what’s your point?”

“You’re way above any of these guys’ leagues.” He shrugged. “Which is okay, but you need to know that you’re too good for them, just a fact. They’re spending their Wednesday night in a bar looking for a hookup, you came here to get a drink with your friend. So, like I said, you are in fact way out of their leagues.”

“You really think so?”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he laughed a little then looked at you and realized you were serious. “Oh dear god, yes! Not only are you fucking gorgeous, you’re smart, funny and a total badass! I mean you killed two vampires this morning!”

“Thanks, Dean.” You smiled.

“Of course,” he replied. “Now, before we head back to the motel is there anything else? You know how to kiss someone, right?”

“Ha, ha!” You smiled sarcastically. “I know how to kiss, Dean. But, I actually do have a question.”

“Shoot!”

“What about…the friend zone?”

“You wanna know how to friend zone a guy?” He furrowed his brows.

“No, how do I get out of the friend zone?”

“Oh.” He nodded. “That’s, um, I’m actually not sure. And I didn’t think you had friends?”

“Again, very funny Dean,” you laughed somewhat sarcastically. “What if I’m good friends with a guy and I really like him, but I’m scared to tell him because I don’t want to lose the friendship?”

“Look, Sam loves you but he doesn’t see you…that way,” he said.

“It’s not Sam, dumbass,” you said. “I have plenty of friends! And there’s this one friend, who’s a guy that I really like. I don’t think he feels the same way, but it’s driving me absolutely crazy that I can’t just tell him.”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I mean, I always think the guy has more to lose if that situation goes south, cause he’ll always be attracted to the girl but she might…get bored with him.”

“But what if the guy doesn’t like me back? What if I tell him and he says ‘gross, you’re like a sister to me’?”

“If he does see you as a sister, he’s not gonna say ‘gross’ when you tell him how you feel?”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I know Sam and he’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”

“It’s not Sam, you moron!” you exclaimed, a little louder than intended.

“…Garth?”

“What if the guy I really like is also really dumb?” you asked.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say Garth is dumb…”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Yeah, never mind.” You put your face in your hands for a moment before starting to drink the beer Dean had ordered for you. He watched you with furrowed brows and it felt like an eternity (really it was about sixty seconds) before he suddenly broke the silence.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Is it…me?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking over at him. “I didn’t plan on letting that slip tonight, I swear.”

“But, it is me? You like me?” Dean asked, you nodded. “Oh my fucking god!”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy and you were beginning to really worry.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. You turned on your chair to leave but he gripped your upper arm and kept you in place.

“No, don’t—fuck! I feel like I just won the fucking lottery and I just need a second to catch up.”

“Wait, you’re happy? You…You like me too?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.”

“Well…” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, still smiling; “Just let me kiss you, already,” Dean muttered. He put his hands on your cheeks, stood up off his chair, leaned toward you, and kissed you deeply. His hands moved to your shoulders then down to your lower back as you put your hands on his cheeks.

“Wait,” you mumbled, pulling back slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re incredible! I’m just now realizing how many creepy guys are staring at me.”

“Told ya,” he said, taking a look around the bar.

“Could we, maybe…head to your motel room?” you asked somewhat nervously.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Hundred percent.” You nodded vigorously, looking at his lips then up and into his bright green eyes. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

“Oh I definitely want to, I’ve wanted to since Sam and I picked you up after he left Stanford,” he said.

“And you didn’t say anything? Dean, it’s been like ten years?” You furrowed your brows then noticed he actually seemed a little embarrassed. “For the record, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about twelve.” His eyes widened.

“What? Wow, I guess we’re both a little stupid,” he laughed a little before leaning in for another kiss.

“Excuse me, Winchester?” You quirked a brow, looking at him.

“I mean, you’re smart, so smart,” he rambled a little. “And sexy, so fucking sexy.” He kissed you and you kissed him back, smiling against his mouth. “Let’s get the hell outta here, sweetheart.”

“Mmh, just another minute,” you mumbled, not wanting to stop kissing him.

He pulled away after a moment, both of you smiling.

“My god you’re beautiful.” He smiled, putting a hand on your cheek.

You hopped off the stool but stayed looking into his eyes; “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Dean Winchester,” you mumbled and kissed him again, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket.

He pulled out his wallet and was about to pay for both drinks but you stopped him.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you pay for my drink then this would count as our first date,” you said.

“Huh, I didn’t think of it like that,” he replied. “Alright, we each pay for our own drinks.”

“Exactly.” You nodded and took out your own wallet, each of you leaving a ten on the counter. “Now, shall we go to your motel room?”

“I’m sharing a room with Sammy,” he said.

“My motel room it is.” You pulled him down again and kissed him.

“Lead the way.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring lightly behind you and a smile formed on your lips as you recalled what had happened only a few hours ago. You felt Dean’s arm snake around your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

You assumed he was awake now and you turned to kiss him but he was actually still snoring. The thought that he wanted you closer to him even when he was sleeping made your smile deepen.

A wave of calmness washed over you, followed by an unnerving idea; how serious was Dean when he said he liked you?

Did he think this was a one-and-done situation? Were he and Sam just gonna drive off in that beautiful Impala and leave you to start hunting alone?

You hadn’t hunted alone since re-connecting with the Winchesters back in ‘05. Before that you’d been hunting alone or with Dean while Sam was in college. Before that you’d hunted with your dad, who occasionally worked with John.

You honestly didn’t really remember the first time you met Dean. You were both just kids and you blocked out a lot of your childhood due to the fact you’d been hunting your whole life. (It was actually a similar story to Dean’s—after a monster killed your mom, your dad became obsessed with hunting and seemed to forget he was a father with a four-year-old in the back seat of his pickup truck.)

What you did remember was the first time hunting alone with Dean. You were twenty-two and (finally) not hunting with your dad when you ran into Dean who was also hunting alone. He had recently had some kind of falling out with Sam, who had been at Stanford a couple years already. You remembered how Dean reacted to the fact you were hunting alone.

He was genuinely worried for your safety and insisted he hunt with you for a while. You took him up on the offer and spent a couple months together before parting ways but still staying in touch.

You were drawn back to the present when Dean let out a breath of air as he stirred awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, a smile on his full lips when he opened his eyes. He sat up on his elbow and tilted your chin up with his finger. “My god, how are you so beautiful?” You giggled a little before he bent down and kissed you.

He sat up further and slipped an arm under you, bringing you to the center of the bed. He caged you beneath him by putting his hands on either side of you as your hands went into his already ruffled hair. You brought him back down and kissed him again, his left hand moving again and trailing down your side, bringing your bare thigh up to graze his own.

You could tell where things were going so you stopped him, “Dean.”

“Y/n,” he mumbled back.

“Dean, wait,” you said quietly.

“What is it?” he asked, looking down at you.

“How, um, how serious is this?” you asked.

“What?” He furrowed his brows a little.

“Is this a one-night thing?”

“Oh,” he realized. “Um, it can be, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that…what you want?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes and slowly shook his head negatively, your smile returning to your flushed face.

“I was kinda thinking this would be at least a two-night thing,” he said, showing off his adorable smirk and making you roll your eyes a little. He bent down and kissed you. “Maybe a three-night thing.”

“A four-night thing?” you teased.

“I think you’re gonna be stuck with me for a lot longer than that, sweetheart,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“You really think?” you asked, smiling.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m kinda in love with you.” He stopped kissing you, realizing what he said. “I, uh, I mean, not—fuck, I really am. I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” you interrupted his spiraling, “I’m kinda in love with you too.”

“Oh thank goodness,” he whispered and kissed you again.

[murdrdocs]

inspo from hot to go!; post stanford tashi; fem!reader MDNI 18+ w/ TASHI DUNCAN

tashi is in a bar.

it's not just any bar, she knows this. she wouldn't even be seen in just any bar, but this bar is different. the demographic is different. the music is different. the drinks are more or less the same. this isn't just any bar and tashi likes that.

she came to this bar because she wanted to. because she wanted this. because she wanted to take some hot stranger back to her hotel room and get her brains fucked out. because she wanted to forget that she's just katarina's hitting partner, and not the one with the trophy.

she came dressed for the occasion. glitter along her lined hooded eyes. nude lipstick smeared over her lips. low rise jeans hugging her ass and a sparky top making her tits look phenomenal. she was going home with someone, she knew she was.

it took a while, lots of searching and a few drinks, but tashi finds her target.

you, dancing to every song as if you know it well. laughing and talking with people as if you know them well. she thinks you might be a regular, or at least this isn't your first time here. she doesn't think this is your first time doing anything like this in general. at first, the thought intimidates her. but tashi has never been one to back down from a challenge. she's never been one to become intimidated because someone knows more than her.

it takes a short while, tashi begins to think she missed the sweet spot, but she eventually approaches you.

and there's nothing to be worried about.

sure, she's a little worried that you might not be into her, but she was once told that she's everyone's type. so she stands tall in her heels, uncaring about her height for once, and she smiles at you.

and the two of you click. you're like fucking magnets, bodies pressed together, moving as one to whatever song playing throughout the bar. her head buried in the crook of your neck, your hands on her waist and hips, your perfumes rubbing together to create a unique mix that tashi never wants to forget.

at one point, you dip your hand to slide past the waistband of her jeans, resting right over her mound, and tashi fucking moans. you haven't even touched her yet, not really, but her celibacy streak has made her needy.

so needy that she's jumping at the first opportunity to be alone uncaring how desperate she may seem.

"are you hot, too? or is it just me?" you ask her, your voice right in her ear.

tashi nods immediately, quick to agree even if she's actually not that hot. nothing compared to summer training on a court. but she still nods because she knows what you want.

your hand slipped in hers, you leading the way out of the bar until you're both outside in the summer air, feeling the breeze against your skin when she has you pressed against a wall and her lips against yours.

she kisses you sloppily. it's probably the messiest kiss she's ever had, and it's all her doing.

she's the one slipping her tongue into your mouth, missing the cavern a couple of times.

she's the one knocking your teeth together.

she's the one moaning and groaning into your mouth while her hands, appreciative and curious, pull at your waist.

and then she's the one throwing the suggestion out there.

"i'll call a cab."

after a torturous twenty minutes where you and tashi try to be decent people who don't grope each other in the back of a cab, the two of you end up in tashi's hotel room and there's no more inhibitions.

she's stark naked on the bed with your bare body rubbing against hers from above. she lets you stick your fingers in her mouth and then in her cunt. she writhes and moans as you devour her in ways she's never experienced before.

her nails dig into the white sheets as she stares up at the ceiling, praying this would never end.

you're so earnest between her legs, telling her she tastes sweet and sounding like you mean it. like you actually are getting pleasure from having your head between her thighs and your tongue against her soaked cunt.

you keep calling her pretty, and tashi feels pretty.

when she's having another woman tweak her nipples and lift her legs in the air, she feels as pretty as she ever has.

she's so quick to return the favor, too. she wasn't just here to get fucked. she wanted to make you feel good.

her brown eyes big and kind as she watches you, one lithe hand slipping between your parted legs. when you take that first gasp, a sharp inhale at the feeling of tashi rubbing two tight circles into your clit, tashi echoes the sound. it's as if she's mirroring you, as if she's breathing with you.

and when the night's over, tashi gives you her number. well, it's like that night never ended, actually. when she’s on the road, you call often and let tashi listen to the way you fuck your cunt while pretending its her.

[steddieas-shegoes]

CONGRATS ON 3000!!! ❤️ That’s so exciting!

For the ask game, I’d love to see your take on the song Heaven, Iowa by Fall Out Boy! (I vibe with “Scar-crossed lovers forever” as a Steddie-coded lyric but honestly whatever comes to mind for you when you hear the song is great!)

Congrats again!! 💕🎉

Thank you! I got a few different steddie-coded lyrics from this song, but the one you provided is good for something short, so I’m sticking with that! ♥️

〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️

He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Wayne specifically asked him to stop coming to the Harrington parties, didn’t want him to risk being caught when they inevitably got shut down.

He knows he’d be in deep shit if a cop managed to catch him and see what he had in his lunchbox.

But one of his best customers insisted he stop by, promising he knew enough people would buy his entire inventory. He wouldn’t have to stay long.

“That’ll be $30 for the bag, or $10 if you just want a joint,” Eddie told one of the girls who always gave him dirty looks in the hall to cover up the hungry look she gave him at parties.

“What about the harder stuff?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Don’t have any on me,” he rolled his eyes. They should know by now he only handles those items when requested.

“Fine. Just a joint then.”

He exchanges his product for her money, another addition to his savings that seemed to constantly dwindle on useless. He never stopped trying though.

She was his last customer in the line that had built up in the kitchen, so he decided to make his way to the backyard to finish up. Not many people usually hung out there when it was this chilly outside, but he had to give it a shot.

The patio surrounding the pool was absent of people, but he decided to take that as a sign that he needed a minute alone.

He heard a sniffle and his head shot over to the table in the corner of the covered area.

“Harrington?”

What the hell was he even doing out here? Was he crying?

“I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jesus. He sounded like someone had tried to strangle him. Was he sick?

“Dude, you okay?” Eddie steps closer, hopes he doesn’t end up regretting choosing kindness. “It’s kinda cold out here.”

Steve was sitting in a chair, knees up to his chest, arms around his legs. His face was half-buried in his knees, but Eddie could still make out the shivering.

“Yeah. Just needed some air.”

“You shouldn’t stay out here long without a jacket, man.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Eddie was actually growing more concerned for him, like maybe he’d been drugged with something and couldn’t move.

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie snaps his fingers in Steve’s face, relaxing slightly when he glares up at him with surprisingly clear, but watery eyes. “You need a jacket.”

“I’m fine. Go back inside.”

“You won’t be if you sit out here much longer. You’ll freeze to death. And then I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing I could have stopped it by making you go inside and I’ll die feeling guilty.”

Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it make Steve give the tiniest smile and lift his head to look at him completely? Also yes.

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

There was a cut under Steve’s left eye, and as his eyes adjust to the light coming from the windows, he sees a purple bruise surrounding most of the left side of his face.

“What happened?”

“The crown was pretty heavy when it fell,” Steve laughs without humor.

Eddie feels his stomach sink further.

“Who did this?”

It’s not like Eddie could do much, but maybe he could at least make sure he didn’t sell to the guy.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve placed his legs down, careful, like he was trying not to hurt himself more. “You got anything left?”

Eddie should say no. He should leave now, head to the comfort and warmth of the trailer, forget about this interaction entirely. Maybe give one awkward head nod to Steve at school on Monday as an acknowledgment he didn’t forget, but won’t say anything to anyone.

“Just the one joint. You want it?” Eddie set his lunchbox on the table across from Steve and sat down.

“How much?” Steve turned to face him, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Free for the host.”

That’s not something Eddie ever did, but if anyone needed it, it was Steve.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I am. You got a lighter on you?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then I light it and get the first drag. Deal?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie is gonna regret this entire interaction, but of all his regrets, it’s probably pretty low on the list, so he pulls his lighter out and does exactly what he said he would.

Steve is watching him so intensely, it’s almost enough to make him blush. He won’t, he hopes, but it’s a hell of an effort.

“This why you’re sitting out here instead of enjoying your party?” Eddie asked as he hands over the joint.

“Part of it,” Steve takes a long drag. “Just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?”

“All of it.”

An alarm starts going off in Eddie’s head, a reminder that Steve may seem like he’s got the entire world, but those who hold the world tend to lose their grip.

“All of it meaning…”

“All of this. The parties, the people who only like me because I have money and throw parties, the popularity contest I didn’t even ask to participate in, the fucking concussions and nightmares. I’m just-“ Steve takes another drag. “I’m just tired. You should go back inside.”

Eddie watches him lean back in his chair, his shirt riding up and exposing just enough of his stomach to see a scar. The moonlight reflects off the lighter line of skin.

“Nah. Kinda like it out here. It’s quiet. Company ain’t bad either.”

Steve looks back at him with a frown. “Don’t have to pretend to like me, dude. Everyone else already does that enough.”

“Who said I like you? I’m tolerating you.” Eddie smirks, waits for Steve to recognize he’s joking. When Steve relaxes, he nods towards the scar on Steve’s stomach. “Appendix?”

“What?” Steve glances down. “Oh. Yeah. When I was 12.”

“I was 14 when I got mine out,” Eddie lifts his layers to show off his matching scar. “My Uncle Wayne thought I was dying. He didn’t even know what an appendix was, let alone that it can cause all this trouble.”

“Yeah. My parents weren’t home when mine ruptured so I had to call the neighbors.”

Eddie frowns down at the table. “They leave you alone a lot? Even then?”

“Yeah. Not a big deal. I made it through okay.”

Okay isn’t the word Eddie would describe, but Eddie didn’t wanna argue.

“You eat a ridiculous amount of ice cream after?” Eddie’s smile grew when Steve nodded. “I convinced Wayne it was the only thing I could eat for nearly a week after.”

Steve laughed, Eddie smiles.

“You got a nice laugh, Harrington.”

He watches as Steve gets red in the face, a beautiful blush covering his cheeks and spreading down his neck.

“Not sure the last time I really laughed,” Steve admitted.

“Shame.”

Eddie stood up, grabbed his lunchbox, and walked around to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him with glassy eyes, the high already sinking in.

“Want me to clear everyone out?” Eddie shouldn’t offer that, or anything. But Steve looks so lost, so tired.

“Nah. It’s nice just not being alone, even if it’s people I don’t like.”

“That’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugged. “Thanks for the weed.”

“Anytime.”

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it’s the one drag of the joint he’d taken, maybe it’s the cold air, or maybe it’s just that annoying crush he’s had on Steve Harrington for years.

He reaches out, cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, and holds him for just a moment.

Neither of them say anything when Steve leans into it.

They don’t say anything when Eddie pulls away with a sad smile.

They won’t talk about it again at school.

But when Steve saves Eddie from the Upside Down a full year later, when he’s sitting at his bedside cupping Eddie’s cheek in his hand, they both seem to remember at the same time.

“We’ve got two matching scars now, Harrington.”

“Don’t think the appendix has anything on demobat scars, Munson.”

“What happened to calling me honey? I liked that.”

“What happened to sweetheart?”

Eddie let out a small laugh. “You’re gonna be trouble, sweetheart.”

“But I’m gonna be your trouble, honey.”

[chirpsythismorning]

WSQK Update

The Twitter account for WSQK Radio has reached 100(ish) songs! And while it's currently unknown whether or not this account is in any shape or form associated with Stranger Things, I still want to give a breakdown about it as well as some reasons why this account intrigues me so much, because there are actually quite a few.

For some context about when and how this started, it might be helpful to know that the first (un)official leak regarding the existence of the WSQK filming location occurred on January 18th, the day prior to WSQK making their first post.

That same Friday when WSQK made their first post, fans also got official 'Week 2' BTS from Ross, which more openly acknowledged the existence of the radio station location in comparison to his previous posts for s5.

What then followed was a rocky start in terms of this Twitter account’s approach at making posts. Initially, they only made posts consisting of lyrics, followed by another post with a short clip of the song those previous lyrics came from.

After less than a week of the account being sporadically active, they became very consistent and continued their roll-out of lyrics + video, and then adding in + dialogue, every single day. There are a few outliers, with them not making a post on March 14th and March 20th, but the first time they had a big break in between posts was from March 22nd-March 24th, notably with their March 21st's post being related to Will's birthday:

After the March 21st post, and with their return on the 25th, they officially switched it up from posting every day, to every other day, and more recently with a consistency of every 2-3ish days.

But still, over 5 months later (roughly 156 days), they remain active.

When it comes to the type of posts this account interacts with, they stick to strictly liking and sometimes retweeting/replying vaguely to posts regarding the WSQK location, along with liking the posts of anyone that replies to their posts.

After some time though, I noticed they began posting songs that they already posted before, just with different lyrics and lines from the show along with them. This actually makes sense given that they are acting as a radio station, where songs are known for playing and replaying numerous times.

Which brings me to the most interesting aspect about WSQK, which is that while a good chunk of the songs posted have featured on the show at some point, there are also a decent amount that have not.

Here is a playlist of the songs for reference:

Here are some songs specifically that pique my interest. Some I will elaborate on, while others I might just share and let you figure out for yourself why I think they're worth mentioning.

This song was originally the third song they posted, though it was removed about a week later. Hard to tell why exactly they removed it. Maybe since it was still early on. they mixed something up and decided to get rid of it? Regardless, lyrically there could be some significance to this song choice.

Since we've obviously heard Kate featured on the show already, I don't think it would be too hard for a fan to include this. Though, it being added this early on is an interesting choice to me. Lyrically a song like many on this playlist that I think have a specific meaning which could fit quite well with a potential storyline in s5. It is also one of quite a few songs that have been posted at least twice.

While this song did feature in s3 and s4, this song is one of many that are unlisted for the show. It doesn't feature on any official soundtrack or playlist and so you'd have to already know it to recognize it or go out of your way to search it for yourself. And the meaning is also ummmm... yeah.

I actually got barely any results when looking into this song and its lyrics. Though I did discover that it is most known for featuring in an episode of Miami Vice in 1986.

I could only share 10 songs here, so if you want to look at more or even all of them, I highly recommend taking a look, even if it's only out of mere curiosity. I do plan on going through and confirming all the songs one by one again because I probably mixed up or missed one or two (or more). Scrolling down a Twitter account until their first tweet is not exactly fun, but this should be accurate for the most part!

Something else I want to mention is that @erikiara80, who also keeps an eye on the account, noticed a while ago that they have always followed 11 people, some fans and some connected to the show. There was one time they unfollowed some accounts and then instantly followed some others, keeping them at 11 follows, which means the number could be an intentional choice.

A while ago, it hit me that, if this is a hypothetical radio station, wouldn't they also take requests? So Erika helped me with that by requesting two for them to post, getting this reply:

And they did in fact eventually post those two songs requested... I'll let you guess which ones :)

Basically, I felt the need to bring this whole ordeal back to the conversation now, not because I am convinced that it is run by someone connected to the show, but because the eeriness around it persists.

Keeping something going on this long would not only require someone to be very consistent, but to also have the willpower to not go over the top interacting with fans (which I don't think most fans have the self control to not take advantage of). This account doesn't seem to have any bias towards anything. In fact they remain completely impartial, sticking to their script. They seem fine with remaining in the shadows with fans assuming they are insignificant or otherwise, all while keeping the act going almost a half a year later.

With s5 getting no promotion outside of Ross's (sometimes) weekly BTS photo-dumps, this season's roll-out has been almost non-existent. Usually we would get phone numbers to call and obsess over, even 1-2 years out from release, and yet nothing.

I find this approach interesting because it does honestly resemble something I could picture the show doing to hype up s5. If the radio station is going to be a prominent location, then it offers up a really creative way to interact with fans as a way to promote the show.

Them humbly leaving hints about the final season through songs via a ‘radio station’, could parallel similarly to easter egg like approaches they've presented in the past. Only this time (the last time) it would have existed and built up for months with most not knowing about it, offering up a sleuth different songs fans could dig into if it was ever revealed to be promotion for s5.

With their being whispers that we could get something revealed in regards to s5 very soon, and with this playlist finally reaching 100 songs, I thought I would celebrate and remind ya'll it still exists in case you need an excuse to overanalyze something new.

[trashmouth-richie]

nothing kills you slower than, letting someone go

Eddie x Fem!Reader ; Steve x Fem!Reader

W.C 6k [whoops]

A/N: I’ve had this floating around my brain for weeks, based loosely on the song “Letting Someone Go” by Zach Bryan

TW: underage drinking/ drug use, drug addiction, driving while drinking, mean!Eddie.

💋💋

Searching your bag for the soft pack of cigarettes, you push your way through the heavy metal door leading to the back of Hawkins High.

You needed a cigarette and right the fuck now. This stupid fucking town, stupid fucking people at this asshole school—you had had enough. The heat of the day was at its peak as you made it over to the corner behind the wood shop. Heavily graffitied and coated in butts and ashes, this had been your secret smoke spot for the past few weeks. It wasn’t a picnic bench in the woods where he had brought you years ago, no this spot was yours, since you had broken up last month you had to find more than a few different things to make your own.

You didn’t frequent the Hideout on Tuesday’s anymore; he made sure of that. You dropped out of Hellfire, giving away your dice to Dustin and Mike as a parting gift; the trailer park you had spent so much time in was now filled with the ghosts of memories, and any time you had bumped into Wayne at the grocery store or pumping gas, you smiled shyly and waved. Wondering if Eddie ever told him why you weren’t around anymore. Why you didn’t surprise them anymore on Saturday mornings with almost stale, day old donuts.

This wasn’t a typical breakup, he didn’t have a new girlfriend and you didn’t have a new boyfriend. Eddie had been pushing you away for weeks, unthreaded the strings of your hearts from one another and drifted apart. It wasn’t easy seeing him around school, interacting with your mutual friends who were now only his friends, waving in the hallways to you as a sort of pity, eyes casted downward when they were with him, loyal to their DM.

The sting of the breakup and the events that unfolded that night were still fresh in your mind. The way the rain fell as you fought with him in front of his trailer, both drenched to the core, his curls lengthening from the heaviness of the rain, chin quivering, shoulders sagged. The pitter sound of the drops of rain hitting his leather clad arms. Seeping through the crooks of his rings, threatening to let them slip off his fingers, wetting the tape used to make them a bit smaller.

Exhaling a line of smoke through your mouth you shudder at the memory. You didn’t want to think about that night or even him. Long legs and baggy jeans stroll beside you, you know it’s her before she even says anything, passing her the cigarette you chuckle when her blue fingernails swing down to take it out of your hands.

“I swear Ms. O’Donnell has a stick up her ass.” Robin explains, “I hope her car breaks down on her way home tonight.” She huffs and throws her back against the brick, one foot folded upwards pressed against the wall.

“She does,” you blow a cloud of smoke from your nose, “it’s sideways.”

Robin snorts, smoke escaping her lips as she exhales, “So are we going to Steve’s party tonight or are you going to bail, again?”

Your response comes slower than you had hoped, you really didn’t want to see him there. Usually avoiding any opportunity you could have of running into him.

“It’s been a month,” Robin says softly, treading lightly on the sore subject hoping not to break the ice of your fragile sanity, “besides, he probably won’t even be there.” She was right, he didn’t hangout with that crowd. The hellfire boys wouldn’t be there so why would he?

“I know… I just— if I see him with someone else it would actually kill me.” Robin knows you better than anyone, she knows how hard it has been for you. Moving through the motions of these last few weeks as if they were on film and you were just a bystander. “Three years is a long time to have it just end over an argument.” The first few days of your breakup it was rumored that he was fooling around with Chrissy Cunningham. The thought of that alone was enough to get you to miss school for a week straight. Refusing to leave your bed, holed up around your sheets like a baby being swaddled. The pain was too much. Robin had stopped by multiple times and assured you it wasn’t true. But the idea of him moving on so quickly, hurt.

“It is—you’re right.” Robin says, turning to you resting her head on the wall, “And you have every right to be upset. What he did—I’m still mad at him for the way he treated you in the end.”

“Join the club,” you mutter, wiping a stray hair behind your ear flicking ashes into the wind.

“So why not just get out and have a good time, maybe you’ll meet someone?” Her lips twist into a shit eating grin. You give her a look as if to say, ‘spit it out’, lowering your eyes to her, eyebrows raised. That’s what you loved about Robin, her emotions were worn on her sleeve and she couldn’t hide anything from you, “Okay fine! I’m like 96% sure that Steve has a crush on you, and if you were to tell him that I would deny everything so don’t even try it.”

A year ago, you wouldn’t have hung out with Steve Harrington, but since you and Robin started working with him at Scoops a few months ago, you had all gotten close. The past month you had become a recluse, only agreeing to go to places that you 100% knew Eddie wouldn’t be. Robin was the one who plucked you from your decaying shell, forcing you out into the sun, watering you like a flower watching you blossom.

Maybe getting out there and even putting on a fake smile would work. Maybe bring some happiness back into your life. “Fine, but I’m not drinking that witch's brew shit Vicky makes.”

The party was like any other one at Steve’s. Music flooded the streets, the thumping of REO Speedwagon could be heard from blocks away. Cars lined every square inch of the driveway, and the surrounding side streets. Beer cans were littered in the front yard, a very drunk Jonathan Byers was laying in the cool grass, taking pictures of the sky, red cups surrounding him and puke starting to dry on his denim jacket.

Having taken a few shots at Robin’s house while getting ready, you were already feeling yourself relax a bit as you entered the Harrington house. Steve was wearing sunglasses inside, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as his hair moved with the music. Surrounded by people taking long pulls from their cheap beers dancing along to the latest hits.

“Robin, Y/N!” Steve yelled above the crowd. He raises his arms above his head and begins making his way towards you through the maze of drunk underage teens. He sweeps you into a hug, pulling you in close and grinning into your hair, “you made it!”

“There were terms to her coming here ya know,” Robin stated, lifting a beer from a freshman’s hand and claiming it as her own, “no dancing, no drinks made by Vicky and no Eddie Munson lurking around.” A quick glance around calms your nerves seeing that Eddie wasn’t here, the tension in your shoulders subsiding.

“No dancing?” Steve presses, a look of fake shock on his face, “I was just going to put ‘Thriller’ on!” The three of you laugh as you look around the living room. People are packed into every corner, some making out, others swaying like bowling pins after an almost strike— trying like hell to not fall over. “Hey dickwad, put that down!” Steve rushes over to a guy in your grade and as attempting to put a lampshade on his head.

“Just give him a chance,” Robin whispers in your ear, “I’m telling you he’s got it bad, just nervous about if you still have feelings for Eddie.”

You did. You wouldn’t deny that. But those feelings weren’t reciprocated. Not anymore. He had made that clear the night he broke it off. Saying he was going to be too busy for a relationship, that you needed to move on from him, find someone else. He was leaving Hawkins and not returning.

Steve returned with the lampshade, setting it down in the corner as he grabs your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles softly with the pads of his thumbs. “And as for Munson? He won’t be here, I promise.” A smile breaks on his face as he pushes his sunglasses into his hair. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

The kitchen is oozing with the smell of spilt beer and strong liquor. The countertops are sticky like candy—a half assed attempt of cleaning has napkins stuck to them like cement. People are crowded around the kitchen island concocting mixed drinks of pop and various liquors, a game of tippy cup is being played in the dining room. “Pick your poison,” Steve says above the crowd, gesturing to the array of drinks on the counter.

“Personally, I wouldn’t touch the punch, Vicky emptied more than half of the liquor cabinet into it. Byers had about three cups and hasn’t been seen since.”

You laugh and a grin spreads across Steve’s face, “we saw him on the way in actually, he’s laying in the front yard, taking pictures of the sky.” You grab a beer off the counter, cracking it open, suds surrounding the aluminum top of the can you slurp them up and tilt it back into your mouth the iced pale ale flowing down your throat like a wheat river. Steve’s eyes haven’t left you since you got here.

“That looks good on you,” he says, taking a sip of his own beer, brown honeyed eyes pouring into yours.

You give him a confused glance, “the beer?”

He laughs and gestures to your lips, “a smile.” Your cheeks heat with a blush, you weren’t good with flirting. You and Eddie had only gotten together because you spun the bottle in his direction that summer night between 8th grade and Freshman year in Namcy Wheeler basements. Steve holds your elbow and looks at you through his lashes. Of course he was good looking, he was tall, hair always perfectly positioned, strong facial features and those dreamy honey eyes could make anyone fall for him. You smile shyly at him and take another sip of your beer. “Wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see it again,” he whispers into your ear, pulling back closer than he was before.

Steve had known the ins and outs of your breakup just like Robin had. You had spent countless nights sitting on the floor of Scoops sampling the flavors while you delved out the inner workings of why Eddie did what he did. You were heart broken, no other way to say it. And it had hurt Steve to see you so low. You had done your best to avoid Eddie entirely, and Steve would do anything to try to help.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, looking down at your shoes and back up to Steve, “I wasn’t sure either.” Maybe it would be easier to get over Eddie if you just moved on from him, finding comfort in someone else, even if just for a night.

“I, uh— can’t believe he’d be that stupid.” Steve says, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Your brows knit slightly together as Steve continues moving a strand of hair from your face, “Eddie I mean. Cause if you were mine, I would never let you go.”

A shy smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you look up at Steve. Those nights at Scoops had made you all closer, the three of you spilling your guts about relationships gone bad, secret hookups, etc. Not in any of those nights did you put together that Steve liked you more than a friend. Usually you were too busy daydreaming about a time where Eddie was still yours, still the sweet Eddie you had known and fallen in love with. Now he would hold his head high above yours in the hallways, never even glancing your way. You search your mind trying to remember if Steve talked about any girls during that time but you can’t think of any.

“Oh come on Steve, you don’t mean that,” you shake your head, Steve gently placed a finger under your chin positioning your face towards his.

“I mean it,” he says sternly with a hint of softness, “I care about you, a lot.” His eyes show sadness, your stomach flutters at his words. Maybe it’s the alcohol making this easy for you, or maybe it’s the way he’s staring so deep into your soul your whole body is tingling, but you feel safe with Steve. You can’t help yourself when you lean into him, licking your lips slightly and closing your eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why the hell are you making me do this?” Eddie huffs as he jumps out of the van and stomps up the sidewalk to Steve Harrington’s house.

“You’re the one who kept saying you were bored,” Dustin says, “listen I know you’ve never hung out with Steve before, but once you do you’ll see he’s a pretty cool guy.” A mouthful of braces smiles up at him.

Hellfire had ended early since none of the boys could defeat Eddie’s sadistic campaign. They were out of Doritos and Family Video didn’t have any new releases this week. “Yeah I doubt that,” Eddie scowled. He was finding it more and more difficult to be happy this last month. He thought breaking up would push him in the right direction of where he wanted to go, leaving Hawkins for good after graduation, getting a record deal, maybe. But so far all he had was one more failing grade before he was held back, again. He was annoyed beyond belief, hating himself for being so naive.

Agreeing to go with Dustin so he wouldn’t get himself into trouble, Eddie walks faster to the party, his Reeboks squeaking beneath him. Dustin makes it to the door first, “should I take my shoes off or should I leave them on? There aren’t any shoes here, are they somewhere else?”

Eddie chuckles at his younger friend, “keep ‘em on, easier to run if the cops come,” he says, eyes wide to scare Dustin.

“Come on man, don’t say that.” Dustin says, following Eddie as he made his way up the steps to the split level home. Maybe a few beers would help his mood. Not fair to Dustin that he has such a shitty attitude lately, the kid worships Steve so he could hangout for a bit, drink a few beers and then go home. Landing on the top step peering into the kitchen, Eddie stops dead.

Watching your lips move with Steve’s has Eddie feeling sick to his stomach. He’s convinced his heart stops beating. Blood rushing to his cheeks, this shouldn’t hurt the way it does. He had been the one to end it, the one who shoved you away. But you looked so happy with Steve. “Oh shit,” Dustin says behind Eddie’s shoulder, “uhh.. drinks? We need drinks!” Dustin pushes Eddie forward through the kitchen and out to the patio, finding the kegs, he pours two of the worlds foamiest beers and thrusts them into Eddie’s hands. “Here,” he says, raising Eddie’s hand to his mouth to get him to drink, “swear to God that’s not at all what I— ”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie says, slamming the beer and refilling it, foamy suds running down his chin, “I’m fine Dustin, really.” His eyes were dark with anger, rubbing his jaw with the heel of his hand he walks back inside the kitchen and grabs the closest bottles of whiskey he can find— noticing you and Steve are now gone— and waltzes back out. Throwing himself into a lawn chair and pressing his lips to the open bottle, stewing in his own misfortunes.

This was his fault, he broke up with you for no particular reason other than his own stupid ideas. You were each other's first kiss, first time, first everything. Of course he wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone else, feel a body that wasn’t yours. But he had always considered you to be his. Seeing you lip locked with Steve was worse than a punch to the gut. Pull after pull on the bottle of whiskey, Eddie’s eyes got darker, he slumped further into the seat. He had no idea what Dustin had even been saying. The only thing he could focus on was you.

The way your hair smelled like coconuts when you were cuddled up against his chest, wearing his shirt when you slept over. You were his everything back then, he didn’t just love you he admired you, worshipped the ground you walked on. He had been regretting the breakup since it happened, but couldn’t find the heart to tell you that. He saw the way you cowered away from him at school, changing your schedule to avoid any contact at all with him, your locker used to be next to his now it was empty. He fucked up bad, but all he was trying to do was save you.

He stands up, his tall figure swaying slightly with the help of inebriation. He stumbled into the sliding door, face pressed flush with the glass, scanning the kitchen. You still weren’t in sight, but Robin was.

Throwing the door open a little harder than it should have been, it bounces slightly at the force. Eddie climbs in all legs first, “Robin! Robin!” Eddie yells above the crowd, maneuvering around drunk teens.

“Eddie,” Robin spins on her heel, a glare to her blue eyes, “you look— like shit.”

“Aww,” Eddie scoffs, “thought I was your favorite.” He takes a big swig from the whiskey, too drunk to even taste the amber liquid sliding down his throat, the burn barely there.

“You were, until you hurt my best friend, and became a giant dick.”

“Well now that just hurt my feelings Robby.”

“What’s the game here Munson, Vicky’s waiting.”

Swaying more than he would have liked and holding onto the kitchen island Eddie lets his guard down, “where is she?”

“Listen, you weren’t there. You didn’t see the way she trapped herself in her room for a week after you broke her heart. She’s trying to get over you— you can’t just pretend like you’re still her boyfriend.” Robin lights a cigarette and blows smoke directly in Eddie’s face.

“I just wanna talk to her. Tell her congrats, I’m sure she’s happy with the upgrade from Prince of the Trailer Park to King of Hawkins thassall.” He says with a shrug of his broad shoulders, leather creaking with his movements.

“I mean it— leave her alone, you already did it once, shouldn’t be too hard the second time.” Robin ashes her cigarette into a discarded cup and saunters off to find Vicky.

Eddie takes another swig, rolling the liquor around his teeth, before swallowing when he hears it. Your laugh coming from the living room. Long legs moving like he’s on ice skates with the help of the walls bearing the brunt of his body weight, he enters the living room with a frown. You're sitting on Steve’s lap, his face is nuzzled into your hair the same way Eddie’s used to when he surprised you by your lockers. You haven’t noticed him yet. Your eyes are pinched shut and you’re laughing at the way Steve’s fingers dip into your sides tickling you.

Always one for theatrics, Eddie starts to clap.

Steve’s lips are like silk, smooth and warm against yours, the taste of beer mixed with carmex on the tip of your tongue as you drag it across his bottom lip. His hands move into your hair, holding you closer to him as he slots his mouth against yours. Kissing Steve comes naturally, as if you have done this before. For the first time in weeks you feel at peace with the breakup. You hear the sliding door open and close as Steve deepens the kiss, moving his head in a slant to paint your mouth with his tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and a smidge of cigarettes and mint gum. You pull back from him, “whoa.”

“Shit, I’m sorry— just you were leaning in and I thought you wanted me to kiss you—fuck I just messed this up didn’t I?” Steve pushes his fingers into the inner corners of his eyes, you pull his hand away looking confused.

“No,” you giggle, holding Steve’s hand in yours, the other pressed against his chest. “It was good, great even— I haven’t felt like that in weeks,” you admit to him, “don’t apologize.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he brings you into a hug, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his large hands around your back, moving them across your shoulders as he ushers you to the living room where Robin and Vicky are dancing. Steve pulls you into the couch with him, whispering into your ear about how pretty you are, how long he has been waiting until you were ready to say anything. The sweet gestures make you blush again and again. When he asks to take you out for a date tomorrow night you tease him.

“I think I’m busy, yeah definitely busy.” A sheepish grin lands on your face and Steve’s face goes from concerned to mocking mad as he tickles your sides you squeal and use his full name as if that were to somehow deter him away from you. A noise is growing louder in the living room and it’s not the music— is someone clapping? You slowly open your eyes and take note of the very drunk barely standing Eddie Munson making his way towards you, eyes black as tar a look of maniacal madness plastered on his face.

“Well well, what do we have here?” Eddie slurs as he steps cautiously towards you. Steve stops tickling you and moves his face away from your hair, you can hear his heart beating against his chest as he moves you off of his lap and onto the couch, protective hands on your legs as puffs out his chest.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, panic rising from your chest.

“Well I just thought I would wish the happy new couple many years of blissful togetherness, looks like I missed the knighting ceremony— sorry about that.”

“Eddie, you’re drunk,” Steve interjects, “let me take you home”

“Not really my type Harrington,” Eddie says, looking only at you, “ ‘m not leaving until she talks to me, alone.”

“Come on, man. You’re making a scene and she’s uncomfortable.” Steve places a hand on your jittering leg squeezing it tight to let you know it’ll be okay, a gesture that Eddie doesn’t miss.

“Oh is she?” A false expression of concern clouds Eddie’s face, “how dare I? Turns out,” he says, inching closer and dropping down to stare into your eyes, your eyes burning from the aroma of whiskey on his breath. “I know how to make her very comfortable when it comes to that, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you!” You yell, slapping his face.

“Now now sweetheart, poor Steve doesn’t need to hear how vulgar that mouth can get, you usually leave that for a second date at least right?.”

Steve stands from the couch and is toe to toe with Eddie, both fuming. You try to shove your way in between them before they start swinging. Luckily Eddie stumbles backward creating space between them, you turn to Steve just as Dustin runs into the living room, holding Eddie back as he grins wildly, shoving devil horns onto his head and throwing his tongue out.

“I’m gonna go talk to him Steve, he’s clearly just upset, I’ll be okay. I promise.” Steve gives you a look of concern, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Be careful.” He says, eyes glaring into Eddie’s from across the room. You press a kiss into his cheek and squeeze his hand.

“Let’s go,” you scowl, grabbing Eddie by the elbow and dragging him out to the front yard.

“Ow!” Eddie whines, “Christ, cut it out, babe!”

“Okay first and foremost, enough with the pet names, they were cute when we were together but they’re not now, so knock it off.”

Eddie salutes you like a soldier saluting his lieutenant.

“Secondly, what the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Eddie preens, “what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have a problem, I’m just a, a concerned friend is all.”

You scoff, “we are not friends, this is the only conversation we have had since you dumped me that night, and look at us—we’re fighting again! Last I knew you hated my guts, so don’t come at me with this ‘concerned friend’ bullshit because it’s nothing but a fucking lie.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Really? Could have fooled the fuck out of me when you made me quit Hellfire and told me to stop showing up to your shows. You forget they were my friends too! Did you even tell Wayne that we broke up? Cause every time I see him he looks more and more confused as to why I’m not around!”

That hit deep. “It’s not his business who I’m fucking.”

“So that’s all I was to you, huh?” Tongue in your cheek ready to slap his stupid perfect face, “You’re un-fucking-believable!”

“You look good tonight.”

“Shut up Eddie— don’t fucking start with me. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here and try to make an ass out of me, in front of my friends!” You poke a finger into his chest and glare up at him.

“Oh, now look who’s all high and mighty, well I’m sorry, your excellency, to interrupt the clever mind of King Steve—but I didn’t come here to fucking win you over. Dustin wanted to be here so I drove him. I didn’t even know you would be here! First person I saw was Steve Harrington and he was all over you. So yeah, it hurt to see you move on with someone else.”

“I’m only doing exactly what you told me to do!” You can’t help the tears from falling, “or did you forget that part?” You close your eyes remembering the way his mouth moved the way the rain fell against his leather jacket, how it felt sticking to your shirt soaking you to the bone. “You were the one who told me to find someone else, so I did, just so happens that you were around to see it happening. We aren’t even dating— that was our first kiss.” You wipe your tears as they fall, pulling away from Eddie as he tries to mimick your motions, his hand falling down to his jeans.

“You fucking think it’s easy for me to see you with him?” Eddie asks, looking at you through his lashes, “I felt like someone shot me in the chest when I watched him kiss you.”

“What did you expect? Me to wait around for you after you basically told me to go fuck myself?” You yank at the hair closest to your scalp, pulling in frustration, “you dumped me Eddie! Not the other way around.” You’re yelling at this point, so beyond pissed off that he’s making this seem like it’s your fault for the way he acted.

“Did you act like it was me? Wish it was my lips on yours instead of him?”

“Grow up, Eddie.”

“Oh come on baby,” his voice dripping seductively, “don’t you remember what it felt like to have my lips on your neck,” he sweeps your hair off your shoulder, “or when I was between your legs, making you come with my t—“

“Don’t— do not finish that sentence! You think insulting me while you’re hammered and a half ass apology is going to fix what you did? Think the fuck again.” You turn on your heel in a huff and try to head back into the house.

“I know your body better than any tweedle dick in Hawkins ever could, sweetheart.”

“God you are so fucking infuriating! Here you are again, acting like I ended this, like I was the one who ripped your heart out that night and stomped all over it. Leaving you to walk home in the rain. I fucking hate you Eddie Munson! I hate everything about you— now leave me the hell alone!” You turn on your heel, huffing as you walk the sloped grassy hill past a blacked out Jonathan Byers.

“Baby please,” Eddie has you by the waist pulling you closer to him. “Please just hear me out, I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. That’s the only thing I’m good at is fucking everything up. I’m sorry I said those things when we broke up—I’m sorry for being an asshole tonight. I just—seeing you with him, letting you go— is a pain I’ve never felt before. And I’m sure the bottle of whiskey I drank isn’t helping that.”

You fish in your pockets for your keys, realizing Robin drove, “Give me your keys, I’ll drive you home.”

Climbing into the driver's seat of the clunky hunk of metal, you are met with the all too familiar scent of him. The cheap cologne you gifted him for his birthday last year, Marlboro reds, the spice of his deodorant that he kept in the glove box, all hitting you at once. Turning the key you press your foot to the accelerator to give it a little oomf to turn over.

“You gotta give it a little—”

“I know. Not my first time driving it.”

“Sorry, forgot I guess.” The van roars to life and you flick the lights on, Eddie is leaning with his head on the headrest, one long leg thrown across the dash the other stuffed under the glove compartment. You speed down the road, heading towards Forest Hills Trailer Park. Silence is golden but not if you’re Eddie Munson, “remember when you almost fought that guy at The Hideout?”

A chuckle breaks from your lips sighing at the memory, “he was talking shit about Corroded Coffin, specifically you.”

“He was at least 6ft 8, 400 lbs, a fucking caveman,” a smile forms on his mouth, showing his pearly whites, “he could have easily beaten up the entire bar, and you just stood there poking him in the chest giving him an earful.”

“And I’d do it again, too.” you smile widely back at Eddie.

“I fell in love with you that night,” he admits, “I already knew I was but that just put the nail in the coffin for me.”

Your smile fades at the memories of Eddie once being in love with you, being yours.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts.

“You already did, but go on.”

“Why Harrington?” He’s facing you eyes droopy with drunkenness as he fiddles with a lighter. “Out of all the ass clowns of Hawkins, why him?”

“I told you, we aren’t dating, we just kissed. We got close after the— a month ago, and— why does it matter?”

“Easy..”

“No, I'm being serious. Why does it matter to you that much?”

“There’s road construction up ahead, take it easy!”

“Don’t change the subj— “

“Fuck! Fuck! The bridge is ou—”

Eddie wakes up a week later in the hospital. He suffered a concussion and broke his right femur, 4 broken ribs and a broken nose. His spleen had ruptured as well. Doctors thought he wouldn’t wake up due to the severity of the accident. The first thing he asked about was you. Dustin couldn’t tell him. He tried but when the machines hooked up to Eddie started beeping and he started ripping IV’s out of his arm— the nurses ran in to push more pain meds, making him drowsy again.

It was Wayne who ended up telling him what had happened. The van nose dived into the creek bed, the van’s exterior was nothing compared to the jagged rocks and old slabs of concrete at the bottom. The force of the fall crushed the front of it like a pop can. Ambulance crews from 3 counties came to assist with the crash, nobody on either crew had seen anything like it before. He was lucky to be alive, Wayne had said.

“Wayne— don’t bullshit me, where is she?”

The warble of Wayne’s lower lip was enough answers for Eddie. He shook his head until a headache blurred his vision. He threw anything around him he could get his hands on, ripping every single IV out of his arms, punching the cast on his leg, screaming until his lungs gave out and his ribs ached even more. He was sedated. Sent to the psych ward where he was kept on an involuntary 72 hour hold. Refusing to eat, refusing to talk to anyone. He was released into Wayne’s care. Roane County Hospital was thankful to get rid of him.

The Hellfire boys visited, each giving their condolences. Heads hung low like the dwarfs from Snow White after she bites the poisoned apple and is in a death/sleep limbo. Robin and Steve came next, offering to take Eddie to see your headstone. The ride home was quiet as Eddie’s tears fell silently. A red eyed Robin rubbed Steve’s back as he put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” Eddie finally said, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I— ” his voice breaks as he clutches for sanity.

“It’s not your fault,” Steve muffled through his hands, “it was an accident Eddie, could have happened to any of us.”

Eddie’s grief wore him down, he barely left his room, his senior year came and went, returning to school was too much for him, the anxiety creeping through his veins surging panic anytime he was somewhere you would have been, should have been. If only he had drove that night, maybe he would have been dead instead of you. He would gladly take your place, nothing here for him, you had friends, family.

He found the only solace he could.

“I don’t usually make house calls but I guess I’ll do it for you Munson,” Rick croaked into the phone.

The high was fast, his breathing evened and he fell asleep quickly. The addiction was even faster, hitting him like a freight train against the rails, he was a shell of his former self.

One night it went too far.

The taste of grease coated fingers in his mouth jars his eyes awake, vomit fills his mouth as he hurls all over the shower. The beads of water beating down on his chest as Wayne places his fingers into his mouth again, making him puke again and again, the long coiled cord of the telephone dragging and bouncing across the bathroom linoleum as Wayne holds the receiver with his shoulder wedged against his ear.

That was eight years ago. A night that scared the absolute shit out of Wayne Munson and aged him at least 15 years. Eddie had been sober since that day, making a vow to himself and to you to live for the both of you. He did escape Hawkins, taking Corroded Coffin to the top of the billboard charts, and making Wayne quit that God awful factory job and go on tour with him, never to lift a finger for anyone but himself again. Tonight was the anniversary of your death. Corroded Coffin was performing a memorial show in your honor at the Hideout.

Eddie addresses the crowd, “this is for the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, she’s gone but never forgotten, living on through the people who knew her and loved her…” a teary eyed Steve wipes his eyes beneath his glasses, holding Nancy tight against him, resting his head atop of hers. “…sweetheart, this is for you.”

[hippolotamus]

You wanna talk fic?

tagged by lovely @spotsandsocks (rescuer of wayward bees) @inell @tizniz @kitteneddiediaz thank you 💞

1. How many WIPs do you have currently?

*laughs in Distracted Author while shoving a bunch of docs under a rug that now looks like it's hiding a body* I'm going to try sticking to the ones I'm "serious" about, but... yeah, take a seat, friends

watch my shattered edges glisten, with my heart in my lap (Twylexis), you can plan for a change in the weather and time, all my days i'll know your face, Bi Buck, home is where you love me (Twylexis), lights camera bitch smile, if this love is pain sequel, come close (let me be home), you're where I wanna go, run to the water, the darkest fairytale, a new religion, Buddie kid date fic, this is the part (OG work)

so let's see that's 1, 2... (runs out of fingers (fuck!)) 15! (not nearly as bad as I thought actually)

2. Which one are you finding the hardest to finish? Why do you think that is?

Other than all of them? I would say home is where you love me because it's for someone and I'm probably putting a lot of pressure on myself that doesn't need to be there.

3. What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

Usually it comes from a song I've been listening to. Like a single line (or several) hit just right and make me think of a certain scenario. So then I go to my docs and tippity tap like hell so I don't lose whatever I'm thinking about. Then inevitably James will ask me a ton of questions that help me hash out what comes next.

4. Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

Not on purpose. The only current WIP with an intentional playlist is watch my shattered edges glisten. Some of these have acquired quite a few songs that carry the right vibe so they wind up getting a playlist.

5. Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organised?

Mostly balls to the walls tbh. Longer WIPs, especially those that cross multiple years/decades do get an outline if only so I remember what happened when 😅

Any one want to share? Not sure who’s actively writing right now so if you do please tag me

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @a-noble-dragon @diazheartsbuckley @dangerpronebuddie @saybiwithme

mi amor @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @stereopticons

@your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings

@jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress

@bi-buckrights @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @welcometololaland @blackandwhiteandrose and anyone else who wants to 😘

[superscd]

plots i want based off some taylor swift songs

because i'm t-swift obsessed and adore the lore that potentially ties so many songs together, i've decided to make a list of much needed plots that have been brewing in my head over the last few releases of new albums and vault songs! note: i'm not at all saying these specific songs are tied together. i'm saying that i love the way she connects her songs, so i'm simply connecting some of my favorite ones that i think work for plot ideas!

slut! and i can fix him ( no really, i can ) ; muse a is a beloved public figure with a good reputation to match, while muse b may be adored, is a notoriously bad influence with a not so great public life. despite all the red flags and backlash from each other's fan base, muse a thinks they can 'fix' muse b and turn their life around. eventually, muse b's public antics, scandal after scandal, and cyclone becomes too much. muse a has to decide if being called a slut! will be worth it for once and they can fix them, or whoa... no really they can't.

question...? and is it over now? ; back in their very early twenties, muse a and b were going from one kiss to getting married. though it was rushed, reckless and not always the healthiest, they really loved one another. but while finding who they are in life, they lost one another, something neither saw coming. muse a moves away from their small town, muse b sticks around, remains a common name in a tiny place and builds a life with their now spouse. years later, muse a comes back into town for whatever reason, and what's that? you're still with them? that's nice, i'm sure that's what's suitable and right... but tonight... can i ask you a question...? is it really over now?

imgonnagetyouback and cowboy like me ; strangers who can both recognize a kindred spirit, that's what muse a and muse b start out as. and ever since, it's been a cat and mouse game. they both hustle for a good life, in some way or another. as a result, both have a lot of trouble with settling down and allowing themselves to love. over the years of knowing one another, they've had their brief moments together and encounters, there's always been attraction and desire, they've crossed the line once or twice, and the last time they saw one another, things didn't end the best. but now life has brought them together again and they see each other at an airport bar... so pick your poison babe, they're poison either way.

maroon and chloe or sam or sophia or marcus ; muse a and muse b always wanted different things out of life, but they tried so hard to make it work. after dating for years, sharing the same group of friends and making a life in the big city, muse a and b realize they aren't on the same page anymore and things end in heartbreak. given their same circle of friends however, it becomes normal for them stumble into their life with someone named chloe or sam or sophia or marcus and they just... watch it happen, always wondering. some time passes, muse a gets sent to work in another city temporarily, while muse b is back in new york working on their gallery. the night of the opening, muse a happens to be in town, shows up and sees that they're one of the inspirations behind the exhibit. because that's a real fuckin' legacy to leave.

getaway car and fresh out the slammer ; it was the great escape, the prison break. muse a and b were partners in actual crime and lovers until muse a got caught and took the fall, while muse b ran and hid. now muse a is fresh out the slammer and running back to their old life, finding that muse b is still on the run themselves. they hit the road together, rekindle their romance and face the challenges of staying ahead of the law. navigating through a series of motels, backroads and small towns, muse a and b eventually have no choice but to confront their trust issues, the feeling of betrayal, heartbreak and more. will they screw it up this time now that they know what's at stake?

so it goes... and guilty as sin? ; muse a, notorious playboy, is a member of an exclusive lifestyle club known for it's discretion, while muse b is about as inexperienced as it could get. their paths cross unexpectedly and muse a finds themselves hooked, wanting to write mine on their upper thigh, while muse b is curious but scared. in full agreement, muse b introduces muse a to the club they are apart of, embarking on a very passionate, but primarily physical situationship, at least for muse a. what muse b doesn't realize, however, is that muse a isn't known for their long-term commitments, but muse b is already in a gold cage, hostage to their feelings. soon their situationship begins to crumble as muse a begins to wonder if they're anything more than a plaything.

[omarera]

Breaking down the Aftonbladet article putting into Swedish context, at least my perspective. Markus is viewing the award as a music award and he has strong opinions on what his music taste is. People should vote as he wants lol. So a positive thing g here is that Omar seems to have a lot of votes. He is always very sarcastic and often have one line slaps sticks liners in his articles and is always straight forward. Markus wants it to be a his taste of “best music “ award but in reality fans are voting based on their own taste and dedication to vote. He needs to change his view of what Rockbjörnen is and why people vote.

Long post ahead…

Some nominations are the joke of the year. Doesn't just stand out. It sticks the eyes.

Ok, I have a few questions. La Gunilla? Fröken Snusk? Where did the musical taste go, dear audience? Is it out drunkenly riding a valley horse?

Since Rockbjörnen is Aftonbladet's prize, I should probably hold back.

It will be such a bad atmosphere otherwise.

The taste is different. After rain comes sun. It's always worse in Gällivare. Take pastors in Knutby with a grain of salt, and so on.

But one of the nominations doesn't just stand out. It sticks out the eyes of sensitive people.

Gunilla Persson? What is she doing here? Her contribution in the Melodifestivalen, "I won't shake (la la Gunilla)", was quite a lot. But "Breakthrough of the year"? What to say about it? Hawk tuah?

Nominating her is like watching the pole vault final at the Olympics, watching Armand Duplantis break a new world record and then giving the Gold of Achievement to a falcon.

I interpret everything as Aftonbladet's dear readers trolling us. If La Gunilla is the breakthrough of the year, you might as well give the bear to Babsan's chorizo ​​hit "Give me a Spaniard", even though the song was released in 2011.

That would be about as reasonable.

For context: Babsan you all know 🫠 but Gunilla Persson is known for being a “Hollywood wife reality star” and she is just loved or hated and just a strong character. She is not a music artist and the actual new breakthrough music artists gets in her shadow.

Another nomination makes me demand that Sweden should introduce a driver's license test before people can express themselves about music. Otherwise, there is a great risk that many people will accelerate backwards towards a red light on the left side of the traffic. That is, cogs in the run-up by voting for Fröken Snusk.Her mix of knight fun and epadunk in a pink robber's hat would only have been a given winner if Rockbjörnen introduced the category "Joke of the Year".

Then so. Now it feels easier to breathe.

For context: Fröken Snusk performes in a pink mask and have songs like “Ride me like a Dalahorse” and “the Gynecological”. Fröken Snusk kind of translates into Miss Naughty. She is though very popular among kids and teens mostly. A guy behind her pulls all the strings and she basically sings the songs. She wants to take a bigger role and is starting to change her image. The song she did in Mello she was a co-author on and she was also the winner of this year’s “The mask” showing off she has great voice. Taking of the mask having her pink mask on. Some songs were also taken down from Spotify due allegations of manipulation of streams. But many love her. Others hate her.

Otherwise, this year's gala seems to be a classic duel at dawn between two relatively young men: Omar Rudberg and Benjamin Ingrosso.Omar can win four Rockbears and Benjamin three, which is due, among other things, to the fact that "Benji" has not performed at Gröna Lund this year and therefore cannot be nominated in the category "Grönan live act of the year".

There is nothing wrong with Rudberg, but if the prize is still about music, Ingrosso should sweep home everything. This summer he took on a new giant leap as a stage performer.

For context: I won’t riot against Markus, so if that’s what you want to read, move on. He acknowledges that it is a duel between them and he has probably seen the numbers of votes. That is positive news for me. There are not just Omar and Beji nominated and Omar and Benji seems to be close in voter numbers (if that’s the reason he writes the article and want to prime Benji winning)

Stating “there is nothing wrong with Omar, but if the prize is still about music, Ingrosso should sweep home everything”.

Music is subjective, and Markus saying there is nothing wrong with Omar is like a compliment coming from him. I prefer Omar’s music and we all know he is not recognized is Sweden as any of us thinks he deserves. I fully agree with that. I also agree that Benji is the biggest artist this year and he has taken leaps both performance wise and with his music. He has done an outsold European tour ( similar to the one Omar will do) and he has had several hits dominating the charts with a little bit of, for him, music style and quality. He has also had a very successful summer tour ( designed by the same person who designed Beyonces stage performance). He has had arena show in Sweden, very few Swedish artists pull that off. He IS the biggest Swedish male artist atm. So I understand Markus viewpoints. Omar is still in the beginning of his career, he has just started performing on stages and has his first tour announced. It’s not possible to compare them. Benji has so much more experience and has released so much more music. Omar is already great but he will have more music coming out with better producers and he will ofc evolve even more on stage. I see many compare Benji with Harry Styles and that’s where my references goes as well. He kind of has similar stage clothes and also the reading signs and having people proposing on his stage. So he interacts with the audience in a similar way.

The trolling part when it comes to Benji is that Benji has been/is by some hated just bc he is a nepo kid and his family. He had a FB group with 9000 members called “we who hate Benjamin” when he was 9yo. And yes he has benefited a lot from his family background and the benefits that comes with that but he also gets hate. And he still has that feeling with him it seems and seem to consider himself as a kind of an underdog needing to prove himself. So him being the biggest artist atm, and if he doesn’t win some will see it as people voted on other artist to make him not win and build on the narrative that it is bc he is a Wahlgren/Ingrosso. He also gets votes for that reason ofc, people loving him and his family, rather than people loving his music.

But all together, La Gunilla and Fröken Snusk might win, loved by the people but maybe not the best music. Omar is loved and have dedicated fans even though Benji is the biggest artist this year. And has the music that has been recognized. Markus seem to prefer his music, I prefer Omar’s music.

Regarding the trolling history for Rockbjörnen, last year Hooja won four categories, they are also liked and loved by kids and people all ages I guess, they wear masks and do fun songs with kind of silly lyrics. Listen below. But they were also “outed” and their names and life’s were written about by Aftonbladet last year which was quite controversial since they wanted to be anonymous for their sake and also their families. They live north in Sweden and lead somewhat just normal family life. So, that was also probably one reason people voted for them. A way of trolling as well.

[chelleztjs18]

We Don't Talk Anymore (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: When words are no longer there between you and Wanda.

Warning: Angst, swearing words and a little some more angst :D

A/n: Hello! This is a spontaneous short angsty fic idea that was inspired by a song. I have been wanting to write angst so when i listened to this song again, i knew i gotta write it. haha. Some lines in this fic are from the lyric of the song. Surprisingly i got it done. I tried to write it a little different, with no dialogues at all. Let me know what you think! Enjoy the angst! Reblog and comments are highly appreciated!

Here is the song behind this fic:

Main Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff, yes, that’s her name. To you, it’s a powerful name for one hell of an amazing woman. That name sticks to your mind and of course your heart. With just a mention of it, your heart would skip a beat and your lung forgot how to breathe.

You would do anything for her, literally. Why? Because she has your heart in her grip. You think about her all the time. A smile automatically shows up on your face everytime you think about how her voice sounds when she tells you that she loves you, or the sounds of her laughs.

You love Wanda. Yes, actually you overdose with everything about her. Her silky brown hair, her smile, even her pouty face. Not to mention her touches and her scents. 

You fell for her hard and it was the best thing ever happened to you. Well, at least that was what you thought at that time before you both broke up and it's such a shame that it was a messy break up in the beginning but both of you decided to stay civil and keep the friendship.

Well, the break up was a little over a year ago. In the beginning of the first few months after that, you and Wanda tried to keep in touch. Unfortunately, the efforts from both ends didn’t last long. It slowly died. Two of you don’t talk anymore.

You keep telling yourself that it was just all a game for Wanda and you think it would help you to get her out of your mind. Do you ever wonder how she is doing? Yes, of course you do but you are not proud of it. Not at all, especially after you heard from Tony that Wanda has found someone else. You know that person, it’s Vision, Tony's assistant.

You wish you would’ve known that you weren’t the love Wanda was looking for. Even after all this time you still wonder why you can’t move on just the way she did easily. Your mind is all over the place right now as you sip the whiskey you have at Yelena and Kate's wedding party.

When you heard that Wanda is coming too, part of you regretted that you came here. Your brain reminds you that you don’t want to know what kind of dress she is wearing or how she does her hair tonight. You wish that you could just leave but it’s your best friend’s wedding so you know that you wouldn’t get away with this. It’s a big party anyway, so you have less chances to bump into each other.

Well, turns out you were wrong. Half an hour after you mingled and talked with Kate, Yelena and Melina, you caught Wanda in the corner of your eyes. Of course, she comes with her new lover.

You stole a glance at her, so did she at you. She is wearing the red dress you gave her on the first valentine's day together. You always know that red is her color. You loved how the dress shows her curves. You can still feel the ghost of her lips when she kisses you a thank you after you gave her the dress. Oh her flawless hair. You remember exactly the smell of her shampoo.

Her soft green eyes warm your heart yet could stab it the same way cupid’s arrow strikes it when you fell for her for the first time.all over again every time she looks at you 

All these thoughts stop abruptly when you see Vision’s hand run down from her back to the curves of her waist. No, no, no. You don’t want to know if he holds onto her so tight the way you did before.

Wanda’s stomach did somersault and her heart flinched when gazes were locked for a few seconds. Her mouth falls slowly open a little. It’s the first time you two see each other again after the break up.

She sees how you smile to everybody else but her and she can’t complain, it’s the same to her. No matter how much her heart smiles, her face refuses to show it. Just like you, as much as she wants to know how you have been, but she tries to keep herself in place.

How everyone laughs around you, it reminds her how goofy you were and you always made her laugh with your antics and jokes. All of that leads to more and more memories. How romantic you were, how you would do anything for her.

Every now and then, Wanda thought you might want her to show up at your door but she was too afraid that she was wrong.

Then Natasha comes into her sight. Seeing the red hair excitedly come to you and kiss you on the lips while your hand touches her hips, proves to her that she was wrong. You wouldn't want her to show up out of the blue. In her mind, you are over her and all the sweet things you two had.

Being ex-girlfriends to each other when being in the same circle of friends is not that easy. Everybody knows how messy the break up was and they are all aware that you two are not talking anymore but nobody wants to bring anything up about it. Wanda also has her own little bird that told her about you. She heard from Pietro that you and Natasha are seeing each other now.

Oh it wasn’t easy for the brunette to hear when Pietro told her about you and Natasha.

Wanda doesn't want to know if you look into Natasha's eyes or if she holds onto you so tight the way Wanda did before but she knows all she can do now is just hoping that Natasha knows how to love you like she does or kisses you the way you like it.

Just like you, she overdoses everything about you and now she can't get you out of her mind.

You thought that one stolen glance that got caught with hers was the only thing you have to handle tonight and you were proud to yourself that you are doing well fighting it subconsciously but boy oh boy, you were wrong again. So damn wrong.

Your eyes refuse to let go of Wanda from your sight. You are slowly sinking into a quicksand of memories and feelings. The more you fight, the more you lose. All the words around you from Yelena, Kate, Natasha and somebody else gradually turn into a muffled sound. Good thing nobody noticed that you are out of it now.

Your body tenses up to ward off shaking, your legs weaken. Questions and thoughts start to bounce around in your mind. Why did Wanda choose to wear that dress and do the hair the way you like it? Was it on purpose? She still looks beautiful as always, just like on that first Valentine’s day night.

Does she still have feelings for you? Fuck, no. no. no. You don’t want to know that. Wanda moved on and stopped talking to you so easily. She dates Vision a few months after the breakup. Even though there’s no rule for how long exactly after a breakup that you can date again, to you it was too early but who cares? Apparently Wanda didn’t, so why should you? And that's a good enough reason for you to move on too.

You are with Natasha now. You look at the red-haired girl next to you and smile.

Your heart wrenched when you take another quick look at Wanda only to find that she is looking at you with those warm loveable jade eyes. She is standing alone while Vision is busy talking with Tony and Steve. Embarrassment stirred in you because she caught you staring at her. Is it even staring when you only look at her for a few seconds?

Wanda is as conflicted as you are right now. She feels tightness in her chest. She mindlessly tightens her grips around her cocktail glass when she sees Natasha hold your hand and her other hand rubs your inner lower arm as if she is showing everybody that you are hers.

She sees you smile at Natasha again. Her mood plummeted.

Both of you let out a gaze that ping-pongs and avoids direct eye contact every now and then yet keep wanting to look at each other. It feels awkward but it still feels like a drop of rain on the desert.

Her fingers get colder, not from her cocktails but from all of the rush of feelings that she can’t even describe. Wanda knows she was at fault in the past that made the last piece of strings that kept your relationship all together for a while finally broken.

She tried to keep in touch with you but she thought that you didn’t want to and you were just doing it for your friendship with Pietro. Little did she know, you wanted her to stay in your life but you felt the same misunderstanding Wanda thought.

You swallow the lump of sadness and Wanda sees your jaw clenched. She knows that you do that whenever you are feeling upset or discomfort. You feel like time has stopped. Your heartbeat seems to slow down momentarily. Her thoughts spin. Your mind is focusing inward.

Wanda’s thought is a hundred miles an hour right now, dredging up everything that happened in the past. Her lungs constrict for a few seconds, making it hard for her to breathe.

She misses you. Do you? Without a doubt, you are in denial for that matter. Her feet mindlessly start walking towards you and to her surprise, she sees you take your steps to her. Her heartbeat tripled in speed, she could’ve sworn she could hear it.

You are a nervous wreck right now. You are going to be closer and closer to your ex-girlfriend in a few more steps after this long time. You don’t even know what you feel? Excited? Hurt? Angry? Are you going to be defeated by your own feelings? Do you really want to go to her? Should you ask if she is happy with Vision? No, definitely not that. Are you kidding? You are strong enough not to ask her that, you gotta be strong.

Words scatter around in her head. She is thinking what to say to you. Just a simple Hi? I miss you? I’m sorry?

Gosh, everything happens so fast yet feels like slow motions. The short distance between you and Wanda seems like hundreds of miles away.

This is it, she is a step away from you but you don’t cease your steps. You walk past her, continue your steps to the bar. Wanda didn't stop either. The fact that you keep walking, it felt like a knife to her heart and it plunged her to despair.

Both of you are internally broken and falling apart. A soft long shaky sigh comes out of your lips.

Disappointment sagged through both of you. Wanda’s and your feet feel heavy as you two walk. Pain claws onto your heart. Wanda puts a fake smile at the brides to cover how she really feels right now. At the same time, you are trying your best putting on a poker face and averting your eyes from her because you know how bad you are to hide your emotion.

Deep down, you and Wanda wish that you still talked but things happened and now you both regret that you stopped talking.

A/n: Welp, that's it for today! Let me know what you think. I'm gonna work on the requests i got now. Follow me for more!

Cheerio!

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[babytarttdoodoo]

Omg I’m obsessed with your fics! Your writing is so good! Can I request some hurt\comfort Roy / Jamie where Jamie just needs some cuddles?

And now for something completely different! Back to the regularly scheduled short and sweet prompts, I jumped at the chance to do some fluff after my brief descent into madness.

(It wasn’t that brief and I doubt that it’s over.)

Roy/Jamie, set maybe two years after canon.

Song rec: Better Together

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

Giving Jamie a key to his house had been an easy decision for Roy, regardless of how short the length of their ‘official’ relationship had technically been. Despite working together on a daily basis, their schedules could be vastly different and demanding.

Jamie had professional commitments outside of Richmond, split between brand partnerships and public appearances, on top of the time he religiously kept aside to spend with the team or on trips to Manchester. Roy was increasingly (frustratingly) involved in the day-to-day running of the club and spent at least two of the nights in a week that he wasn’t trapped in his office with Phoebe running circles around him after school.

Basically, dedicated ‘alone time’ was hard to come by and it was actually really fucking nice to come home some nights and find Jamie already sorting dinner in the kitchen, or to be surprised by an unplanned visit whenever he found himself at a loose end.

It was nice that Jamie clearly felt at home enough in his space to use it.

That said, this evening he was confronted with a lot more slamming of doors and aggressive muttering than he had typically come to expect when Jamie let himself in.

“In here.” Roy answered from his space on the couch when Jamie did eventually call out and confirm he wasn’t a bad-tempered burglar. He paused the film he’d been half-watching and scowled at his boyfriend when he poked his head into the living room. “What the fuck did my front door do to you?”

Jamie winced slightly and shrugged before all but collapsing over the back of the settee, 170 pounds of muscle immediately reduced to a floppy ragdoll. Roy made appropriately irritated sounds at being jostled, while simultaneously holding his arms agreeably up out of the way so Jamie could squirm around into a comfortable position. His head found its way to Roy’s lap and he tucked his legs up to avoid dangling off the arm.

“Sorry.” he said, smiling sheepishly once he was settled. “Long fucking day.”

“Yeah?” Roy’s hands automatically sought out more contact, one resting on Jamie’s chest, the other beginning to card through his hair.

He had let his natural colour grow back in this season. At this length, it had started forming a mop of soft curls on top of his head that Roy found unbearably attractive. Even with whatever overpriced products it had been saturated in for the day, it only took a few runs through of Roy’s fingers to set the strands loose again.

He suppressed a laugh at the way Jamie pressed into the touch with a contented sound, acting for all the world like an affection-starved cat.

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes drifting shut. “The bloke running the shoot was a right dickhead. Whole thing dragged on way longer than it had to.”

Roy frowned. Jamie had been looking forward to working with this company - some fashion line Keeley had secured a contract for. It would be a fucking shame if the whole thing was a miserable cock up.

“Need me to knock some skulls together?”

Jamie huffed a laugh, lips twitching up, but the pinch in his brow didn’t smooth over like Roy had hoped it would. He was clearly upset by whatever happened.

“Nah. Not sure they’ll invite me back, to be honest. Keeley’s gonna go through me tomorrow.”

That was a straight up alarming concept. The list of things that would push Keeley to be genuinely angry at Jamie was incredibly short. “What happened?”

“Told him where to stick it, didn’t I?” Jamie groused, turning his face to nuzzle into Roy’s stomach. “Got sick of him yelling at me for just doing what he said. Prick.”

“Hey.” Roy waited until he saw Jamie’s eyes open and peer up at him. “He shouted at you?”

“A bit.”

“Where does he live?”

Jamie snorted and lightly smacked Roy’s arm. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously, Jamie.” The hand that had been petting his hair moved to cup his cheek instead. “Keeley is not going to be mad at you for telling off some idiot giving you a hard time. You don’t need to put up with that shit.”

Jamie hummed, not looking entirely convinced, but the tightness in his shoulders did ease up a little.

“It were a big deal, this shoot.” he said quietly. “Supposed to do a couple more with ‘em next month. They won’t if they decide I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve done more modelling in the last two years than I did in my entire fucking playing career.” Roy pointed out. “If it went wrong, I doubt it was because of something you did.”

A thoughtful look overtook Jamie’s expression and, with a small grunt of effort as the only warning, he surged up to capture Roy’s lips in a sweet, warm kiss. He used the hand not propping himself up to grasp the back of Roy’s neck, pulling him in as close as he could at the awkward angle.

Roy was definitely not complaining but couldn’t help his surprise, blinking in confusion when they broke apart. “What was that for?”

“It’s sexy when you make sense.” Jamie told him, a welcome flicker of amusement in his expression. “And when you try to get me out me head. Sorry I’m being a grumpy bastard.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve never had to put up with that from me.” Roy deadpanned, eyebrows raised. Jamie rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin taking over his face. Fair play. “Tell me why you’re so upset over this. You know Keeley won’t give two shits about one bad day.”

Jamie’s face screwed up for a moment then he huffed and shifted around to sit properly beside Roy, still pressed up to his side but occupying his hands with spinning one of the few rings he had on that day.

Roy didn’t rush him, knowing he'd find the words in his own time.

“I don’t like being called ‘stupid’.” Jamie finally admitted, like letting that bother him was something to be fucking ashamed of.

The hot spike of anger that shot through Roy’s gut seized up his joints in a vice of coiled tension. Ten years ago, he’d let loose that energy by charging at the source and whoever else happened to be in his path. Now, with only Jamie there to take it out on, he forced himself to relax at least a fraction before trusting his voice wouldn’t come out sharply.

“What the fuck did he say to you?”

Jamie nudged him gently, no doubt reading the protective fury in every line of his body and appreciating the effort to rein it in.

“Dunno, exactly. I’m hardly fluent in Spanish but I’ve seen enough of Dani’s Twitter replies to know when I’m being insulted.” He shrugged. “After the third or fourth ‘móngolo’ and ‘apestar’ I told him to go fuck himself and stormed off.”

Jamie groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, ears going pink like they did when he was embarrassed or stressed.

“In my defence, he were pissing off everyone on the shoot. The photographer found me later to say he were five minutes away from doing the same. And he kept getting on at the makeup girl ‘cause me abs weren’t ‘defined enough’.” He put air quotes around the words and Roy gritted his teeth so hard he thought he heard one of the back ones crack.

“Right.” he ground out and took another deep breath when even he could hear the homicidal rage in his tone. “First off, that’s the most moronic fucking thing I’ve ever heard. You’re in the best shape of your bloody life and your torso looks like you’ve airbrushed it on every morning.”

Jamie snorted, clearly appreciating the compliment, despite everything else. 

“He’s just a prick they paid way too much money to fly in from Barcelona.” he said, leaning his head on Roy’s shoulder and sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as anything. “Keeley already told them that if they were gonna insist on doing the shoot during the season, there’s no way I would be getting dehydrated before it.”

Roy sharing his opinions on that fun part of modelling, whether on season or off, was not going to help matters. He made the magnanimous decision to let it go and was very proud of himself.

“Second.” He continued instead, putting an arm around Jamie to tug him in and press a kiss to his temple. “You are not fucking stupid. Or whatever else he said. Like to see that bastard fend for himself in the kind of tactical nightmares you find a way around.”

“Footie genius.” Jamie agreed lightly, nodding like he was humouring Roy.

“Fucking brilliant, on or off the pitch.” Roy corrected and squeezed Jamie to emphasise the point. “I’ve never seen anyone read people the way you do. Or remember so much shit. You knew what that fucker was saying about you because you pay attention to everything. I don’t know how you do it.”

Jamie buried his face into Roy’s shoulder, ears definitely pink now.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Freaky when you give me this many compliments, you old weirdo.”

Roy chuckled and kissed Jamie’s hair again. “You know I mean it?”

“Yeah.” Jamie sniffed and Roy couldn’t tell if he was just clearing the air or something else. “You’re a shit liar.”

“Glad to hear it. Did you eat yet?”

“Meant to order in on the way back. Forgot.”

“Fuck that. I’ve got a pot of spag bol that Phoebe and me barely made a dent in. Let’s get you fed.”

Jamie propped his chin up on Roy’s shoulder, eyes big and soft with a smile playing around his mouth. He leaned in again and kissed Roy some more, unbearably gentle and intense about it all at the same time.

“Alright. Let’s see what damage I can do to these abs, then.”

[hannahssimblr]

There’s an argument at the nightclub door tonight. Actually, there is an argument at the nightclub door every time I show up here without fail, because I do not possess ID. 

“Of course I don’t have ID,” I explain to the bouncer, the same guy that’s here week after week yet refuses to admit that he remembers me, “C’mon, we both know how it’s going to be, we can do this silly little dance for two to three minutes and you’re going to let me in.”

“You’re too drunk.”

He’s right. “Look,” I sigh, “I’m here with girls, nice girls. Lovely girls and they’d like to come in too, wouldn’t you like for them to come in?” I cup the chin of Alison next to me, who theatrically bats her eyelashes and juts out her bottom lip, “Please,” she says, “we’re all so lovely and nice.”

The bouncer shuffles from one foot to the other, checking over his shoulder, and I know we’ve won. These men have a problem with underage boys coming into their clubs, but girls? The more girls the better. It doesn’t matter if they’re seventeen. 

“Go in,” He says through clenched teeth, “and no hassle from you tonight, you hear me?”

“What?” I say loudly as we pass, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. Anyway, bye.”

The club is vibrating, strobe lights flash and music pumps so loudly that I can’t hear what anyone is saying. I think Alison is talking to me, at least her mouth is moving, so I lean in closer and bellow into her ear, “What?”

“I was singing,” she screams back, “I just like this song!”

Everyone around us is shrieking at one another too, either that or swaying exotically against each other on the dancefloor, college aged girls all wearing the same shoes, men in the same shirts. In one fleeting, sober moment I look around me, at the clouds of dry ice, feel the floor sticking to my shoes and wish I was hanging out with Jen and watching TV instead. The moment ends abruptly as soon as Fitzy from rugby throws himself onto my back and starts chanting “shots, shots, shots!”

“Yeah, okay shots,” I say, attempting enthusiasm, “fuck it. Anything but tequila.” 

As per my request we avoid tequila and we do some sort of hideous rainbow shot instead. I think that we are supposed to be impressed by the way the bartender pours it out, ten shot glasses in a line, each one of them a different colour, poured from the same nozzle. “You shouldn’t have bothered with that whole thing, they’ll all be down us in one second,” I tell him, but he doesn’t hear me. 

We dance for a while, or at least we try to as a dozen secondary school kids without a shred of poise or grace to share between us, and mostly we just leap around the place and do stupid moves so that we cannot be accused of earnestly trying, and open ourselves up to the risk of real humiliation. 

When Fitzy spots some girl he likes the look of, I try to force him to go and talk to her, but we won’t. He says he needs more shots for that, which is probably true because he’s a bit awkward, so I reckon Fitzy needs a few shots to get most things done. Maybe it’s a sign that one day he’ll be an alcoholic, but I try not to think about things like that when I’m jumping around on a crowded dance floor, it’s neither the time nor place for existential dread. 

“Puh puh puh poker face puh puh pokerface” Alison sings as she dances around me, “Can't read my, can't read my no he can't read-uh my poker face....”

Alison knows the lyrics to everything. Even songs that I’m only just hearing for the first time, and I don't know how. Either she listens to this kind of thing in her spare time or she just has an amazing memory. It’s an interesting and charming detail about her. She's a good dancer too, even when she's just being silly, and I've often noticed the way that other girls copy her moves, looking to her for choreography whenever she's on the dance floor.

“Oh, ohh oh oh, ohhh oh,” She vocalises, “I’ll get him hot, show him what I got…”

I smile at her, “What’ve you got, Alison?”

Her hand curls around my neck as she pulls my ear to her mouth, “MDMA, if you want it.”

“Ha! Where’d you get that?”

“Someone at school.”

“Yeah? What else do you have?”

She laughs, “Do you think I’m a pharmacy? C’mere,” She takes my hand and leads up away from the dancefloor, up a set of carpeted stairs and to a quieter landing near where the toilets are. We sit on a fancy little couch that is coated in years of filth while she digs through her little handbag. 

“Look, I’ll tell you the entire contents, a few pills, I’ve a little weed, three pretty squashed cigarettes, um, oh, a small bit of bag.”

“Oh, bag. I’ll take the bag.”

“Expensive taste, yeah?” She chuckles, “And you know, the idea of you on cocaine is like some kind of nightmare to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t need it babe, you’re already annoying enough.”

I gasp, “You’re awful, how can you say that?” but quickly give up acting offended and peer into the depths of her little quilted purse. My mother once told me to never, under any circumstances, go through a woman’s handbag but I honestly don’t think that rules like that apply to me.

I discover the saddest looking bag of cocaine I’ve ever seen and change my mind. “Fine, I’ll take the MDMA, but only because you insist.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I'll do it if you do it.”

“I know it's not your favourite...”

“Nah, no, come on, nobody should do pills on their own, that breaks my heart,” I hold out my hands like I’m receiving holy bread, and she tips one out of the little bag for me. 

“Hey,” I rest my neck against the back of the couch, “We could do it the way those old ladies do at mass, yeah? Put it right on my tongue.”

Alison snickers, “I thought you were protestant. Have you even been to a mass?”

“No but please, I know how it goes,” I stick out my tongue while she delicately places a pill onto it. It starts dissolving straight away, the bitter chemical taste makes me wince and I wonder, just like I do every time I do this, whether it’s really worth it. They make these pills look so tasty with their bright colours and funny little imprints, but they're not exactly flavourtown.

“Are you single at the moment?” Alison wants to know, and I nod, grimacing as it goes down, “Yeah, why?”

“I knew it, you know why? Because you act like an unstable person when you are. You seem unwell at the moment.���

“Do I?”

“Yeah, though it’s fine.”

I look into her eyes, the blue of the sky before rain, and allow my pathetic feelings trickle in for a second. Sometimes I feel as though there is some crucial, working piece of me that’s been plucked out, leaving all of the other parts churning aimlessly like a clock with a missing cog, hands twitching desperately, uselessly, unable to move forward. I don’t think I like to be alone, in any sense. I think I need other people to feel complete, and I don’t know why that is.

I brush my fingers lightly along the side of Alison’s thigh, “And you?” I say softly, “are you single?”

“Yes, Jude.”

“Will you kiss me, then?” 

Alison, when she kisses me, feels holy. She’s like a shrine whose feet I weep at, begging for healing. She and I, this is how we are, this is the cycle we repeat, when I’m lonely, when she’s lonely and we find ourselves in purgatory. She doesn’t want more from me than this, than this shallow kissing, masquerading as something with depth, and sex, sometimes, when we can find a place to have it. I shouldn’t want more either. I don’t think I really do, not if I’m honest with myself, but sometimes I want to ask her why not. Maybe she’s confusing on purpose. Maybe she just likes to punish men. I think that it’d be fair enough if she did. We as a collective have mostly been cruel to her.

“Are you going to bring me home?” She murmurs, and I tuck her wavy red hair behind her ears, “Not as long as I share a wall with my eight year old sister.”

“Oh, not ideal. Where can we go?”

“I think all of our options are outside.”

“Fuck sake, and it’s freezing. Why aren’t you ever around in the summer?”

“Sorry, but look, I’m going to start learning to drive soon. Once I have a car I’ll have a decent place to take you.”

She laughs, “A car?”

“Yeah,” I clutch our hands together and hold them to my heart. It’s thumping now that I am coming up, “Alison, when I get a car, I’ll ride you in the passenger seat any day of the week.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groans, and buries her face in my neck, “That’s the most romantic thing a guy has said to me in ages. How depressing is that?”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[jessicas-pi]

DIRECTOR'S CUT ON COMMIT TO THE BIT but only like the first two chapters i am so far behind 😭

girl I wish I had been as productive as you think i've been 😭 there's only two chapters so far-

(But, hey, good news! Chapter three is verging ever closer to probably being done! And it's only taken me about... eight months... hahaha *dies on the inside*)

Anyway, i'll do what I did with the other ask and just go through it and talk about stuff!

Okay, so this fic was originally called "The Con" because it involved winning a lot more bets via subterfuge and holding hands. That changed and so I renamed it!

Oh yeah! And so, this fic was partly inspired by the song Summer Nights from Grease, where the guys and girls are enthusiastically listening to completely different stories of the same event. I flipped it around so they had completely different reactions to the same story and Sabine and Ezra were very UNenthusiastic and that was what the scenes with their friends were based on!

Aylan (the vostress kid) definitely heard some obitine stories from his dad and finds the parallels very amusing.

I know i've said it a few times before, but it always delights me to mention that the three Togruta sisters (Chisica, Am-lee, and Khenna) are based on me and my sisters.

OHHH fun fact! Originally the conversation where they split up the profits from the bet and the conversation where Sabine brought up fake-dating were two different conversations! The first one was as-is in the fic, but the other one happened like a week later when Sabine was hanging out in a tree coral with some of the girls and watching Ezra doing lightsaber forms and maybe drawing him shirtless a little bit and they hype her up to "ask him out again" and she goes over and interrupts him and they end up having the fake-dating idea conversation while he's not wearing a shirt and she's blatantly checking him out (and at one point actually half-reaches-out to touch his abs before she catches herself) and he's just "????" the whole time. It was funny, but I decided it was too early in the (fake) relationship for her to be so obvious about it, and I needed Fenn Rau to overhear the conversation and that was easier if they were on the Ghost, so I combined the scenes.

Oh also! Originally, both Vinn AND Tarik were gonna get kicked out of the friend group for being nasty but then I decided to make Tarik less nasty and give him a redemption arc.

ok, reading on, la de da...

The post-stargazing scene! So, I had to keep dialing things back because my shippy writer brain was moving their relationship ahead WAY faster than it was supposed to go. For example, in this scene, originally, they were going to share Sabine's bunk and definitely not cuddle or anything, it won't be weird at all, but again--just too soon. I made up for it with excessive cuddles in the end of the chapter & in chapter 2.

KATKA CAMEO!! Ok so for those who don't know---katka is an OC from my Teenage Rebellion AU. She's Gar Saxon's niece but she's utter sweetness (with a slight twist of crazy) and totally on board to stick it to the Empire. In the TRAU, she also has a massive raging crush on Ezra (albeit an Inquisitor iteration of him), so when I needed a random character to be envious of Sabine here, I figured I'd reuse her lol.

Oh yeah! Another condensed scene! Where she tells him about the Mandalorian ways of saying "I love you" and where she asks him to fake marry her used to be two different scenes! Like with the other one, I added the second one to the first. I went through a few versions of the fake-marriage-proposal, including one where Aylan came along with Ezra to Mandalore and was the one to suggest they tie the knot, apparently unaware it's all fake (but actually 100% aware it's all fake because his psychometry revealed it)

not to brag or anything but "Ezra did not regret fake-marrying into money" is one of my favorite lines i've ever written.

(btw, I still crack up when I remember that in your comment on chapter 1, you called Ezra a repressed victorian maiden for panicking over being able to see sabine's arms and legs. and I think everyone should know that You Are Right, Ezra Is A Repressed Victorian Maiden.)

OK ON TO CHAPTER 2!

i had so much fun with this chapter because they're both full to bursting with love for each other and neither of them will admit it until the last possible moment. I think that might actually be why Chapter 3 is taking so long--they're not hiding their feelings anymore so there's no more poetic internal monologues about how much they adore each other lol

Ah yeah on the topic of repressed feelings--the line "Kanan is fairly sure it’ll take at least five years and possibly a child for Sabine to admit that she’s actually in love with her husband" was supposed to actually be what happened. Sabine and Ezra were going to go on pretending the marriage was fake for years and finally one night when they were cuddled up, Sabine blurted out that she was in love with him and he was like "Yeah. I know." and she was like "wait what?? how did you know?? I was so subtle about my feelings!!" and he was like "Sabine, you kissed me good-night ten minutes ago. you're constantly calling me extremely romantic pet names in mando'a. we have two children and only one of them is adopted. your feelings are about as subtle as a paint bomb to the face." and she was just like "....oh." and then that was the end of the story! BUUUUT then I decided to do a love confession during the Lothal arc, and that led to the... surprise... at the end of chapter 2, which led to there needing to be a THIRD chapter!

OH HAHA OK MORE FUNNY STUFF. So the part with sabine's nightmare that leads to the "two besties chilling in a bathtub...?" scene was ALSO split up into two different events! I've been thinking about doing some edits of both chapters of CttB because I didn't really stop to edit either of them before posting (and a good chunk of chapter 2 was literally written the day before I posted it), which I mention because I was considering reverting the two scenes back to their original versions because the og tub scene was pretty funny. It's hard to describe in brief words, but basically... yeah it's too hard to describe, just take my word for it, it was pretty funny. (it involved Ezra singing along to We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together with a shampoo bottle for a microphone and Tristan playing a petty revenge prank that goes sideways.)

The cut between Ezra worrying about Sabine being upset about his feelings for her and thinking "what would she think if she knew??", and sabine's pov opening with "Sabine can't stop thinking about kissing his stupid face" never fails to make me snicker.

Oh hey I just got to the thrawn pov and that reminds me. at one point I was thinking about having a scene including Ezra and Thrawn's conversation aboard the Chimaera and thrawn REAAAALLLY pushes his buttons about Sabine, using the information that he figured out about their marriage. Actually, if I do that edit, I might write that scene.

Poor Hera--she keeps unintentionally being responsible for all of the sabezra relationship development lol.

OOH SOMETHING ELSE! So, originally, the love confession was WAY different. First of all, it wasn't in their room--it was in one of the caves. Sabine still went looking for Ezra, but she found him by following a Loth-wolf. And he actually confessed his feelings first! In this version, he was afraid he was going to die and impulsively blurted out that he loved her. Then he got nervous and started rambling a little and she shut him up with a kiss. But I changed it--I wanted her to be the one to take the leap and 'fess up, and if I set it in her room, I could have the funny Ketsu scene afterwards.

And then True Love's Kiss woke someone else up! (aka kanan got yoinked out of his comatose state by telepathic TMI)

oh yeah and to anyone wondering, that "another dawn breaks" line from the Kanera scene was ABSOLUTELY a reference to A New Dawn.

Oh and that Ketsu scene---that was actually a scene I saved and reused after cutting it from a different WIP of mine! There were two variations--the one I ended up using, and one where she accidentally interrupts the very first kiss and they're both like "OH COME ON!" because they've been waiting for this moment FOREVER and like ten seconds in, it gets interrupted, and Ezra decides that, darn it, he's been waiting for this for so long, he's not going to wait any longer! and he just pulls Sabine right back into the kiss and uses the Force to shut the door in Ketsu's face. I did this version so that I could include dialogue!

I'm just now realizing that I actually skipped over the entirety of Family Reunion and Farewell, I went straight from Jedi Night to Happy-Ever-After. But in my defense, plot-relevant episodes don't matter much when it comes to crack fix-it fics.

And... I think that's all my thoughts I have on this! Thank you for the ask!! :)

*roll end credits*

[taylortruther]

That's such a fun topic because I have a few top-tier favorite Taylor songs that have a single line I dislike lmao

Lover is one of them ("and I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you"). I disliked that line since the moment it was released and totally separate from the discourse. I just don't think it matches the song!

On the other hand, there's one song that has a hated line that i actually like, which is the "trust him like a brother" lol. I LIKE IT!!

that lover line doesn't bother me but it does have a different cadence or rhythm on purpose, so i see why it sticks out. i used to be really bothered by the "i pretend you're mine all the damn time" line in delicate because the cadence is SO off. i couldn't figure out why she chose to do it that way. the bridge of ttpd throws me off a bit too, it's really, idk, "chunky." it's not a seamless fit in the rhythm of the rest of the stanza, which i knooooow was intentional (how could it not be) but i'm not sure how great of an effect it has on the song as a whole.

i felt that way about the "asshole outlaw" line in hits different, too. i feel like taylor learned she enjoyed intentionally fucking up a line's cadence and has really enjoyed playing around with it. maybe a bit too much for my liking.

as for trust him like a brother... i understand it, i don't love it, but it doesn't take me out of the song because it blends in lmao

[theneighborhoodwatch]

i never expected to see higurashi or aku no hana in a welcome home playlist !

i’d love to hear why you picked those songs

(context)

for "hana - a last flower": i actually put two versions of it on this playlist, the first being the uchujin version made for aku no hana and the second being the original by ASA-CHANG & junray. in general, a lot of the song is very frantic and fractured while zeroing in on what Should be a very simple, straightforward concept - but bc of the nature of the song, it becomes borderline incomprehensible. the final lines of the song being so straightforward + the only time we hear how the titular flower feels about its treatment sticks out to me a lot, especially in the context of welcome home:

the differences in sound design between the two versions were also important to me - uchujin's cover is very Visceral in a way that reminds me of the sound design of welcome home's scarier moments, i.e. the weird Fleshy ambience at the beginning, the heartbeat accompanying the bass, the stilted robotic vocals, all that. asa-chang & junray's version sounds much more pensive, more focused on the tragedy than the horror. it acts as a sort of reprise for the uchujin version in this playlist. something about watching the same events play out with a full understanding of how they came to be, and almost wishing that you didn't have that context, bc it makes it that much more painful. the fear is almost tolerable in comparison. welcome home is a tragedy as much as it is a horror. at least, that's how i see it.

for "naraku no hana": SPEAKING OF TRAGEDY, at the risk of sounding like a broken record - lot of the Sense of Impending Doom people get while perusing welcome home's wares is that this is not a story about people who secretly resented each other the entire time and are only Now just letting that come to light, at least not in the case of the neighbors. this is a story about people who do or at least Did genuinely care for each other, with any mounting resentment coming from events that they were likely never given the tools to properly address. naraku no hana's lyrics sound a lot like talking someone down from a spiral (hehe) of self-loathing, even the chorus of the song is rejecting the title that this person has given themselves/has received from other people, even when they themselves are in danger - you are not a uniquely evil or broken person. you cannot let anyone tell you otherwise or else you will doom yourself. i suppose in the context of welcome home you could read that as the neighbors as a collective addressing wally. that's how i read it anyway.

but also i would be remiss not to mention that it originally ended up here bc i realized that welcome home would be perfect for a higurashi opening parody had it released a few years earlier than it did lol.

[gamebunny-advance]

Doodle Dump: Misc. Edition

Time for misc. doodles~

Notes under the cut.

1: "Ikigusare Idols". Like many people, "Injection Girl" randomly appeared in my Youtube feed, and I was admittedly charmed by them. It's like they're from a bygone era, but they just put out another music video last month. Currently, my favorite song is "スーパーZ指定ガール". (Content warning for mass violence in the lyrics.)

2-4: "Clown Doll Redesign". So, since I've started doll customizing as a hobby, I tend to lurk on the Dolls and CustomDolls subreddits on the lookout for inspo and info. Not too long ago, someone posted asking for advice/critique on their doll ideas. So I sketched these (and some notes on the original design, which are not included here) as a response. In the end, I never did reply because I don't actually have a reddit account, and I thought it would be weird to make one solely to criticize someone, so I'm just posting them here.

My main critiques were that there wasn't a lot of contrast in their color choices and that the blue and red hair seemed random when the rest of the design was pink/green. So, my main goal was to increase the contrast between the pink and green, so the different patterns would stick out more and to unify the pallet a bit more. The skintones differ from the reference because the doll they said they were going to use was a G3 Frankie Stein, who has bluish skin and a prosthetic left leg, so I'm not really sure why their sketch uses the original green skin or why the silver leg is on the wrong side, but it is what it is.

The first 2 are straight pallet swaps, but the 3rd is based on a second design that the OP made. They originally asked for users to pick between the two. Most people said they preferred the blue and yellow design because it was more cohesive, but the OP replied that they really wanted to make the pink and green one work somehow, so that's why I focused on using that one as the base, but I still included a version with the alternate pallet and patterns.

Here's a link to the original thread since I'm kinda reposting their art by including it with sketch. Just maybe avoid linking back to me >_<;

5-8: "Music Junkie Soundwave". In a similar vein, there was another user on the subreddit that wanted opinions on a potential Transformers fashion doll line, citing a video that one of their friends made on the idea.

Now despite having a limited knowledge of Transformers, and I'm still pretty green to the fashion doll world, I wrote a whole-ass dissertation on the idea because magical girl/boy robot dolls are totally something I'd be into.

But, for a similar reason to the clown doll, I didn't want to make a reddit account just to critique someone (though I still have the original response in my drafts).

When I finished writing that response, I decided to sketch how I would go about the idea as it'd been proposed, and created this Soundwave doll idea. Admittedly, he's very inspired by Giacomo from Pokemon Scarlet/Violet (never played it, but I do like some of the character designs in it). I dunno if the overalls are a little dorky, but I couldn't think of another way to represent his chest-deck in a meaningful way.

9-10: "Kingsley and Mamuta". I tried to make some human? designs for them, but it's not going great. I really wanted Mamuta to still be monstrous, but designs like that aren't my strong-suit... Kingsley I'm just not satisfied with yet.

11: "OC Line-Up". Just a few OCs of mine. From left to right: Carol, The Prince Formerly Known As Frog, Shapeshifter, and Fizz.

12: "Rival". An idea for a rival to Kun3h0, ala Shadow the Hedgehog and Wario. I made another sketch recently that goes in a very different direction, but I kinda want to finish that so I haven't included it in this dump.