#they’re so pretty and you get to make cool shapes with the light | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carolmunson · 2 years ago

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let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.

Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold.

“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile.

“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder.

“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls. “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”

“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.

“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”

“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.

“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”

“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”

Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love.

It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.

“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile.

“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.

“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…”

“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.

“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh.

Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.”

“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.”

“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo.

“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.”

“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.”

The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.

“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock.

Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table.

“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.

The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either.

The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris.

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex.

Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner.

His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband.

“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up.

“Uh, no why?” he asked.

“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach.

The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it.

The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection.

The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks.

A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.

He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good.

What’s another three years of being single?

“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?”

“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.

“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.

“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.”

“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?”

“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him.

“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.

“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?”

“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’

She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.”

“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs.

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.”

The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“

Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.”

“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light.

He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”

“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face, “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.”

“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.

“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen.

There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks.

“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?”

“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.”

He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him.

Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.”

When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new:

wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too.

…

lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?

Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun.

scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights.

ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.

what did you get?

chicken saag, still jealous?

i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.

Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat.

you’re funny, did you know that?

um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰

that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.

Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:

lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?

there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?

tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.

TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.

yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.

do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.

i do! where did you have in mind?

there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.

oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄

but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*

does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.

sevens fine :)

okay :)

see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment.

Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry!

50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?”

“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.”

Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher.

Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water.

“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler.

Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?”

The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!”

He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever.

“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today.

“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet.

The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers.

Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”

“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.

“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room.

“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls.

“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”

Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!”

“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor.

“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, can we just go home?”

“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?”

Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”

They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it.

“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change.

But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke.

“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.

“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.”

“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.

Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.

Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole.

still on for tonight? :)

so close to having to pay my cancellation fee.

but yes, still on for tonight :)

sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!

you’re off the hook…

for now. 😡

He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat.

The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him.

Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots.

“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.

“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.”

Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.”

“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.”

“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.”

“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?”

Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!”

Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.

When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him.

Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat:

here, we made a playlist for you

Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182

And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street.

very creative, edwards.

someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar.

‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background.

He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.” Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops?

‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.

in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :)

He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?”

Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.”

“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases.

“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.”

“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”

“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs.

“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him.

“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.”

“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away.

“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.

“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so.

“Cool,” you smile.

“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.”

“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something.

“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.”

You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty.

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?”

“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”

“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense.

“You’re so mean,” you gasp.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.”

“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin.

“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.”

“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.

“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.”

“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?”

“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.”

“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks.

“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.”

“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer.

“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog.

“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.

“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.”

“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?”

“Music theory,” he corrects.

“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.”

“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it.

“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t.

“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?”

You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.”

Fucking Tatianna.

“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.

“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?”

“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.”

“It’s really nice. I like the color.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?”

“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?”

“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up.

“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask.

“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly.

“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.”

Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?”

“I worked through lunch.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had a smoothie,” you confess.

“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)

He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.”

He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench.

The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump.

“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?”

Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.

“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear.

“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”

“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks.

“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks.

“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug.

“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine.

When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw.

“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains.

“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.”

“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.”

“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”

You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines.

“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.”

“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.”

“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!”

“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?”

“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”

Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip.

“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer.

“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back.

“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.”

Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter.

“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?”

He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was.

“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself.

“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh.

“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.”

“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.”

“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?”

You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar.

“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it.

“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks.

“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer.

“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer.

“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.”

“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak.

“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses.

“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.”

He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?”

“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:

He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth.

“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.”

Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his.

“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm.

“The real story.”

“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?”

“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too.

“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly.

“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –”

He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.”

“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.”

A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that.

“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist.

“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.”

“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again.

“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.”

“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again.

BELLY FLOP!

“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers.

Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.”

“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”

“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air.

“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.”

“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him?

“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.”

“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.”

“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?”

“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy.

“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.

Swimming sucks.

“See ya.”

You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.”

He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you.

But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you?

He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar.

Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.

‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’

What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three?

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold.

Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street.

“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again, “Bye!”

“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time.

Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own.

“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.”

Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door.

“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions.

“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?”

“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.”

“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow.

Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.

i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way.

glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen.

He deletes the apps.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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gothgleek · 4 months ago

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Adrian Chase Nsfw Alphabet

TW: mentions of canon torture (nothing explicit or of a sexual nature though), blood, and knife play.

Disclaimer: I do not own Peacemaker or DC Comics or the images used in any form.

Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This boy is touch starved so no matter how long the two of you were going at it, Adrian will wrap around you like an octopus and kiss your neck.

Unfortunately, Adrian is also cringe. He will give you a high five and thank you for letting him ‘smash that ass!’ Every. Single. Time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Adrian spent a lot of time crafting his body into the killing machine that it is so he loves his entire body (except his missing toes) but his most favorite would probably be his ass. He likes the way you react when you see it. But before you, it was his abs.

His favorite part of you is your ass as well. He’s an ass man.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cumming on your ass but if you beg him enough he’ll cum inside you too. If you wear glasses, he likes covering it with cum as well.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes eating ass (but that’s hardly a secret).

He also fantasizes about fucking you while he’s on patrol but that’s unfortunately illegal so he only enjoys it in theory rather than practice. (Unfortunately, he takes vigilantism very seriously.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a ton of experience. Honestly, he’s only had threesomes with Chris and whoever is into Chris. He tends to be ignored but he was happy to watch. “Less chances of getting my mask removed!” It takes him a minute to realize you only want him and a little longer how to have sex with only one other person.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything involving picking you up. He likes to show off how strong he is for you. He gives you a whole goofy smile and everything. Alternatively, any position where he can grab, smack, or watch his cock go in and out of your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pre- relationship, he was adamant that the mask stays ON during sex. Post relationship he was serious about learning how to please you. Other than that, the two of you are bound to burst into giggles at least twice while fucking.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is waxed because his suit is best without hair getting caught. But if you preferred he grew it out for a vacation away from vigilantism, his public hair is a dirty blonde and his chest hair is a light brown.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is hardly a natural romantic and the advice he gets from Chris has… mixed results to say the least. His attempts at romance are cheap and cheesy at the least (flower petals in the shape of a heart, a box of dollar store chocolate, some leftover pie from the diner, etc.) But he does make you feel looked at and cared for during sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t really get horny, maybe a few times a month, since he is pretty busy. Of course, upon meeting you he is willing to

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s into roleplay, especially the kinds where he can rescue you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s pretty vanilla in this aspect as he likes to fuck inside his place. But he does enjoy picking you up and taking you from room to room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes making you laugh at his dirty jokes and pickup lines. He always likes you covered in lingerie and blood and hopes to see you in both one day. Outside of you, if he kills someone in a really cool way, he will run home and start eating you out without even taking his uniform off.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The funniest answer is that I think that Adrian has all the federal and state laws memorized so he will not do anything illegal- even the ridiculously outdated laws. Like, if you happen to be in one of the states that forbids extramarital sex like Utah or Idaho, he will not have sex with you until you cross that border.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a giver 1000% but he also enjoys getting a blowjob while you have someone else (aka Chris) or a toy in your ass and watching you give someone/a toy a blowjob while he fucks you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s used to doing it hard and fast but he does dedicate a lot of time to foreplay.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies with the two of you were born out of necessity since you’re traveling together. Even when you settle down for long periods of time, he will have a quickie in the motel room if you ask. But in those moments, he would prefer to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think he would be into knife play and maybe wax play but that’s as far as he will go. Someone brought up the idea of using a cattle prod and he was curious but right now he associates extreme bdsm with losing his toes and nothing is as much of a boner killer as that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

By virtue of his threesome exclusive past, he is used to going multiple rounds. His recovery period depends on how much exercise he’s gotten that day but he will use toys or something to keep you ready for him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He appreciates toys and will use them on his partner. He’s especially found of DP-ing you with a teal dildo you bought together. Sometimes, if he’s feel cruel, he’ll tie you up and leave a vibrator on your clit.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a pretty impatient guy who values the power of a quickie but he knows sometimes teasing is better than the actual sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud but he is super chatty and will talk you through it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would like to have sex with you on a boat with flames on it while dolphins swim around you two. Ideally, you would also be a mermaid in this scenario.

He also had Chris make him a sex playlist… depending on your taste in music, it’s very cute or incredibly cringey.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Solid muscle with a v line and no body hair and an ass like a baseball player. He likes to say he’s as smooth as a dolphin.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty low. You usually are the one to initiate things. Non-sexually though, he is pretty clingy and wants to be with you all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty quickly, he likes to keep his days and nights busy after all!

#adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #adrian chase x y/n #peacemaker #vigilante fanfiction #Adrian Chase fanfiction #Adrian Chase fanfic #my writing #mine

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nostalgiclittlespace · 10 days ago

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Wishlist Ideas for Closeted Regressors

So, it’s a little early to be posting holiday stuff, but I wanted to get this out there so since I know a lot of people start their holiday shopping around this time. So, If you’re looking for agere gear as a closeted regressor, or you just want something that’s subtle, here are 12 ideas-with pics. Note: pics are not mine, they are screenshotted from Amazon. prices are in USD, as Im American. Happy regressing and happy holidays!

1.Kawaii water bottles, specifically in the style below. The straw on most of these is a lot like a sippy or bottle, so if you can’t have/don’t want one of those, then these are a great alternative! Just look up ‘kawaii water bottle’ on Amazon and a whole bunch will show up. Most are between $15-25 USD

2. Funko Pops. I actually use mine as action figures and play with them (just be gentle with them if you do this!) so they can be great agere toys and decor! You can find just about any character and any fandom too. The prices very greatly, depending on what character and where you buy from. Black Friday deals on Amazon and Five Below are great ways to find them for only a few dollars.

3. Fidget toys; they can make great Agere activities! Because they are designed to stimulate your senses, many function similarly to baby toys. Note: when buying in bulk packages, the quality isn’t great. So consider whether you want to invest in better quality or quantity. Most bulk fidget packs are about $25 USD on Amazon. Dollar stores often have similar products as well, though once again the quality is unknown.

4. Fleece throw blankets. They are super cute, soft, and cuddly! Not only can they keep you warm, but I like to use mine as a playmat. Once again, price can very greatly; typically anywhere from $10-30 USD

5. Coloring books. I think this one is pretty self explanatory, as lots of regressors love coloring. If you’re worried about rousing suspicion, then just ask for an adult coloring book; these often have more intricate patterns, but if you ask for a fandom themed one, it’ll still have some awesome characters to color! Typically around $5-10

6. Silicone night light. These are available in so many colors, animals, and foods—and they are appropriate for any age, thanks to their kawaii esc appearance; they usually cost about $15.

7. Snack boxes. If your dietary needs allow for it, then these can provide some really cool little space snacks. They’re all pre packaged and come with a wide variety of things, ranging from crackers to cookies. And if you want something unique, you can try snack boxes that feature food from other countries. Prices will vary greatly, mostly dependent on the size

8. Lava lamps. These are just cute and make for a neat visual stim. Plenty of colors to choose from too! If you wanted, it could be used as a sort of substitute as a baby mobile since it’s very colorful and relaxing to watch. These can go for anywhere between $20-40

9. Microwaveable plushies. Super comforting, and for any Littles with cramps or chronic pain, they can be disguised as heating pads. Many of these also come with a scent, typically lavender, though you can find them without too. Cost around $20-40, depending on brand.

10. Scrapbooking materials. Kind of a random one, but they can be used to decorate a journal, you can make a physical photo album like many of us had in our childhoods, etc. Just a fun craft project you can consider! Typically, scrapbooking kits that include some paper, washi tape, and stickers can be around $10-15

11. Onesie pajamas. Lots of options, and are great if you live somewhere cold! Usually $25-40. These can be animal shaped, character themed, or more subtle like a plaid pattern. Very comfy and make for great little space clothes.

12. Glow in the dark stars. They are cute, fun, and aesthetically pleasing. You can get them in a who,e bunch of colors too! Typically $5

#agere community #sfw regression #sfw agere #agere blog #age regression caregiver #age regression community #sfw interaction only #little space #age regressor #agere little #Age regression wishlist #Little space wishlist #Christmas list #little space holidays #Agere gear #agere sfw

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dangerous-yam-fries · 1 month ago

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Mothman x Male Reader - NSFW

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: terato, monster fucking, oviposition, ovipositor, kidnapping, noncon/dubcon, MINORS GET THE F OUT BEFORE I BRING OUT THE LADLE!

You were a rather outdoorsy person, camping, hiking, backpacking, the works. You had planned a trip to the famous Blackwater Falls state park of West Virginia, in hopes of seeing the 62 foot tall Blackwater Falls before tourist season sets in.

The hike was rather long, you passed a few other campers on the way there, exchanging nods. The setting suns light filtered through the leaves making dots and beams all around you. You didn’t stop to think about heading back, you had been hiking many times before, and the chances of anything bad happening were slim. Besides, you were wearing bright clothing as well as reflective gear, so you pressed on. Taking a swig of your water bottle to combat the warm sweat building up on your skin, shivering as it cooled when it got darker.

You were disappointed when you got to the waterfall. Sure it was beautiful, especially in this lighting, but It wasn’t as grand as the photos. That’s to be expected though. The river had dried up quite a bit since fall, so it was nowhere near its supposed glory. You took a few commemorative photos before making the trek back to your campsite, making sure to get the thin waterfall in the background.

You took more pictures on the way back down, you were no professional but you thought they were pretty good. You were relaxed, maybe even too relaxed. So when you took a moment to stop and appreciate the darkening scenery, your blood ran cold.

You couldn’t hear a single thing. No birds. No buzzing of insects. Not even the rustling of leaves in the wind. It was dead silent, and that was never a good sign. ‘Maybe it’s me they’re scared of…’ You tell yourself as your pace quickens. ‘It’s getting dark, maybe they’ve all… gone to sleep?’ Telling yourself things to soothe your growing anxiety only manages to deepen the pit in your stomach, churning with every passing second.

You have a ways to go before you reach the entrance to the trail, and then some to get to your campsite. ‘Everything is fine, just calm down, nothing is going to happen.’ You try to stay firm in your affirmations, but you start to believe your words less and less, losing all faith when you hear the creaking of branches.

Cold sweat drips from your pores, making the scary chill down your spine even more frigid as you lay your eyes on the canopy of the trees.

A large, fluffy mass towered above you, the sight made you feel vertigo, staring up at large, red, eyes. Neither of you moved, like you were locked in some sort of trance together. The creature looked almost… humanoid in its shape, shoulders and chest covered in a downy fluff. It had legs, and arms, which looked lean and strong, its hands looked like a mix between normal hands and that of insects. You could see it had sharp hooks on the end of each long, fuzzy, finger, of which it only had four.

It had two long fringed antennae poking out of its forehead, and its ears were large and pointed, almost like a dogs. And there were its wings. Massive, even folded behind it you could tell they were ginormous. Then it starting making an odd shrill noise. That’s when your brain started working again, unfortunately, your legs took a little longer to catch up. It wasn’t long before you ran, though it felt like forever.

When the Mothman first caught sight of you, he wasn’t sure what to think. You were a slew of bright colors, so you were either extremely poisonous, or trying to attract a mate. He decided to watch you, inferring based on your actions. He desperately hoped you were looking for a mate, because he was as well, and he had been having some very bad luck before finding you.

So when you had taken such profound notice of him, he was simply elated! He started trilling, making excited chittering sounds as the two of you inspected each other from a distance. He wasn’t surprised when you ran, after all, any good mate is worth a chase! Besides, it wasn’t odd that you were feeling skeptical, you had to make sure that your mate was worthy of you, running to size him up, making sure he wasn’t inferior.

You were running for your life, looking behind you once to see the moth-like creature close in tail. You didn’t dare look back after that, focusing all your willpower on your legs, silently begging that they somehow run faster. They do, but not for long. Soon after you trip, a jagged branch in your way, sending you right into the ground while your ankle throbs in pain.

Your adrenaline is wearing off, but you try to get up, only to have a stretch of white-hot pain run up your leg and an aching scream leave your mouth. The Mothman didn’t have much trouble catching up to you, landing right behind you, tucking his wings in as he does so. Your eyes are brimming with tears, you’re covered in dirt and sweat, too horrified to look behind you.

It isn’t until you feel a soft nudging on your cheek that you realize how screwed you are. More trills and burbles come out of the creatures mouth, which has a sickly sweet smell of nectar and a meaty flavor to the air around it. You don’t notice you aren’t breathing until you feel its monstrous hand on your chest and it’s hot breath on your neck.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what’s to come. You can feel it’s antenna on your face and chin, downy flush rubbing on the back of your neck as its hands caress your stomach. You expect it to bite into you or tear you to shreds, but it lifts you up, cradling you against its chest.

It’s gentle, and soft, and if you weren’t being kidnapped by a monster to presumably be eaten, you might’ve even found comfort in it. Mothman was trying to comfort you, making trills and purrs to soothe your fearful scent. As you new mate, the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him, and in the coming weeks, he was sure to gain your trust.

You weren’t sure if you were even in West Virginia anymore, maybe you were in another dimension where the trees are taller than skyscrapers and thicker than houses. Because that’s where you were living, hundreds of meters off the ground inside of a tree, being held captive by a rather amorous ‘Mothman’.

You had long since dissolved your fear of him, now he kind of just made you uncomfortable. He might’ve been tall and muscular, but he was so fluffy and affectionate that he only reminded you of a big dog, a really, really, clingy dog at that. He always had to be near you, forcing you to lay on his chest, moving your hand to caress his soft, downy fluff while he chortled and purred.

Right now you were sat on top of him, his large hands squeezing and rubbing your stomach, kneading the squishy flesh like a cat. Your hands were forced into his soft mane, you quickly learned that you should just keep them there, as he would pull your hands back to it whenever you pulled away. Besides, it really was fuzzy, and quite clean.

Now was the time. You had obviously gotten accustomed to being his mate, and Mothman was eager to fill you with his clutch of eggs, especially now that he was sure you’d accept them. Before you were too scared to even touch him, but now, you hardly put up a fight, you didn’t even kick him away when his hands started traveling to your crotch.

It was common for the Mothman to feel you up, palming at your dick while your body heated up. But today felt different, he went slower, you felt his straw-like tongue on your cheek as his hands rub gentle circles into your growing erection. Each one of your moans sounded like a sweet song, the scent of your arousal better than any flower he had come across. Your underwear was dampening with precum as he pressed into it, rubbing the bulge until you were clutching fist fulls of his fur and shaking with pleasure.

You bite your lip and clamp your eyes shut as you cum, a strangled moan leaving your mouth as you coat the inside of your underwear in white. “Dammit…” You cried, Mothman did wash your clothes, but he always took his time with it, leaving you naked for days. That and creaming yourself was embarrassing as all hell.

You sighed as you slipped them off, wiping up the cum with the fabric as you throw it to the side, not wanting that cum to stick to you. Mothman was even more excited, you had taken off your covering in preparation to mate, right? He let his penis slip out out of his slit, it was already wet and very much erect. You didn’t notice the appendage until it was nestled right between your legs. You looked down and froze, staring at the clear liquid it was lathering all over your thighs.

And then you looked at the actual dick itself. It was a fleshy pink color, it was thick and ribbed with a chitinous layer of plates protecting the slit it came from. You started to struggle a little, but the Mothman simple took this as a sign that you were nervous. After all, this would be your first mating session, so he would have to take good care of you.

You let out a few wails and cries as he lines the pointy tip up with your hole. You don’t think he understands that it needs to be stretched out, instead he merely rubs his cock on your hole to get it wet, considering that lube to be enough prep. You let out a breathy yell as he starts pushing into you, his intense purring makes his dick vibrate slightly inside of you, making you moan loudly, hurting your throat.

The ribbed texture scraped your insides, it feels like he’s crushing your organs when he pushes in, and sucking them away when he pulls out. When he bottoms out you can see a very conspicuous indent in your stomach as it bulges out obscenely, you sob at the sight. Crying even more when you see how hard your dick is, getting more aroused by the second.

The Mothman lets out a slew of chitters and purrs as he kneads your stomach and thrusts into it, delighting in the way your insides clench around his member. Drool and spit fall out of your mouth along with your screaming moans, you can feel his dick thrusting gently inside of you, the texture stimulating you perfectly, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Darkness fills your vision as you cum, shooting your load onto your stomach, heaving and sobbing as you feel another orgasm build up.

He rocks you into his body, being very careful with you and moving slowly, barely picking up the pace when he fills you with a warm liquid. You think it’s his cum, and so your breathing calms a little, but he still thrusts gently into you, and your eyes widen when you can feel something being inserted inside of you. You choke and moan at the feeling of his egg being pushing inside of you.

You whimper when he begins thrusting again, being far more gentle than before and not going as deep. It seems like he’s ready for another round. By the time you’re finished, you’re covered in all sorts of liquids, you don’t know if you’re breathing heavily or hardly breathing. Your hole is loose and your dick is covered in your own cum, and your stomach is bloated with Mothmans clutch of eggs.

His dick lays inside of you, unmoving, but still very hard. You can hardly think, and so you drift off to dreamland while his eggs begin to incubate.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #monster boyfriend #yandere x reader #mothman #mothman x reader #male character x male reader

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strwbnnie · 1 year ago

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Oh nothing, just thinkin about a cute, chubby little babe whose new fav hobby is baking. Do you like sweets? Sure, but that’s not why you started.

No, it was the look on your husband’s face whenever you’d go to the bakery to pick up fresh bread. He’d stare at the dessert case like a kid in a candy store, begging you to let him get one as if he wasn’t a grown man making his own salary and now he makes that same face whenever you offer him first pick of your own delicious, freshly baked pastries.

This time is no different, you hear the click of the front door shutting, he’s walking into your quaint little kitchen with a news paper tucked in his axillary and his briefcase in hand. He’s dropping his case near the threshold and tossing the paper onto the table, footing over to you and placing an earnest kiss on your lips before flipping on the sink’s faucet to wash his hands.

Your husband is old fashioned, no social life and not many hobbies due to his demanding work schedule. He says you’re too pretty to work a job so he works six days a week, every single week, in order to give you your soft life.

You carry not a worry in the world except whether or not you may have over starched his jeans or added too much salt in your latest confection. Of course these little desserts and things don’t equate to all that he does but it’s literally the least you can do to thank him. He swears he doesn’t deserve it, coming home to your love and a hot meal everyday is more than enough but you tell him otherwise every single time.

“Made ya somethin.”

He’s drying his hands with a dish towel, turning around to see what delectable treat you’ve gone out of your way to make for him today.

Bright eyes lighting up as you present him with a display tray of heart shaped puff pastries, lightly dusted with powdered sugar, split down the middle and filled with a tall dollop of a blush-pink colored cream. He’s pulling the chair out, pulling up the legs of his trousers and plopping down in the seat, his legs spread wide. Today was long, or at least it felt long, but even a second away from you is just too damn long. But, it’s over and now he gets to indulge in a sweet treat and hopefully his sweet wife later on.

He goes to grab one and his pinky finger catches some of the cream from another, those big hands of his are never really ideal when it comes to grabbing such delicate, tiny things. He admired your creation, from the flaky layers of the puff pastry to the little specks of red littered throughout the cream.

“Strawberry cream?”

“Mhm.”

He’s so attentive, it melts your lil heart. “But they’re not in season.”

“I got the freeze dried ones from the store and a tiny bit of strawberry flavoring. Tastes just as good, I promise.” It tastes the same to you, but who knows if it’d taste good to him, his favorite fruit is strawberries after all.

He goes in for his first bite and he’s not surprised when a tiny little bit of the cream oozes out and plops onto his white collared shirt—some of your pastries do tend to get messy sometimes, his face and his laundry have come to find out.

But it’s no big deal, he just swipes it up with that same pinky & sucks it off like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

He let’s out the sweetest groan—one that has his cute little wife squeezing her thighs together, trying to keep your cool as you wait for him to finish.

“Damn that’s tasty.”

“Yeah?” You gush, the way he closes his eyes and tosses his head back has you damn near squealing.

“Mhm, but everything you make is delicious.”

Gosh, when he gives you that dazzling smile you almost melt. You rarely ever heard your husband swear, at least not outside of the bedroom, and you have to admit it’s so damn sexy.

“Reallyyyy?” You drag.

“Yeahhhh.” He mocks your tone, free hand gently grasping your jaw to pull you in for another quick kiss.

Two bites. Two bites is all it takes for him to finish the dainty little pastry before he’s reaching for another.

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head when you pop his hand and push the tray away.

“You’ll ruin your dinner.”

He’s not sure what you’re cooking, maybe a roast or stew and it smells hearty and delicious. He’s sure one more little cream puff won’t ruin his appetite.

“Babyyy.” Here he goes with the damned whining. “Just one more.”

He pulls you closer by the hem of your pretty pink gingham lace trimmed apron, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the wooden flooring harsh and loud as he pushes back to give you some room. A pat of his thigh has you raising your leg, throwing it over both of his and straddling his lap.

“I just wanted you to try one! You can have more for dessert after dinner.”

“I tried it and I liked it. I want another.”

It’s a little while before you feel it—him moving his hips back and forth, grinding the hard bulge in his slacks against your panty-covered cunt. He thinks he’s sooo slick, giving you those eyes, that look—you know the one.

“Please baby, you don’t mind dessert before dinner when it’s you I’m eating, let’s keep things fair, my love.”

Your mouth goes ajar for a quick second, opening and closing in speechlessness before a heavy gasp escapes. You don’t have a comeback and your adorable little pout is no match for his fiery gaze and quick tongue, determined to get his second treat. You’re folding almost immediately, sighing as you reach back to grab another cream puff.

“Okay, but only one more.”

This is soooo Rengoku coded but you can insert any of your favs really 😁

*this wasn’t even supposed to be this long 😭

#black reader #black fem reader #anime x black!reader #black!reader #black coded reader #black!y/n #demon slayer x black reader #kny x black reader #mha x black reader #black coded #black!fem!reader #aot x black reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x black reader #kyojuro x black reader #HentyeHottie🌸

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aidansloth · 11 months ago

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Coffee and Chamomile

Summary: Hitoshi can’t sleep (again) so he decides to get up and make himself some good-ass coffee ‘cause he’s smart. When he reaches the common room, he realizes he’s not the only one who wanted a hot beverage.

Warnings/Things to keep in mind: slight hurt/comfort, swearing, suggested low self-esteem on Shinsou’s side and some dirty jokes because they’re teens. And adorably cute. Reader is referred to as they/them or ‘you’, this takes place in the dorms and Shinsou is part of Class 1-A (or 2-A, whatever you want). Also I don’t remember perfectly the layout of the dorms so pretend. I’m not up to date with the episodes (stuck on season 4) so please no spoilers! Last disclaimer: this is KIND OF self-indulgent and I’m autistic so if you think the reader is acting weird, that’s why.

Words: 2.3k

Posted this on AO3 too! You can find it here.

2:38am

Hitoshi turned in his sheets, covers uncomfortably sticking to his form as he sank his face into the scrunched-up pillow.

3:04am

An exasperated groan escaped his lips, half suffocated by the cushion; his arms wide around the mattress and his breathing deep and empty.

3:29am

That’s it. He’s getting up and making himself some damn coffee or whatever the others left in that poor kitchen. His sheets are hurled carelessly as his feet instinctively find their place in his cat-shaped slippers. Trying not to make too much noise (an act he had mastered by now) he opened the door and made his way to the common room. His phone, used as a make-shift torch guided him across the corridors; as he got closer and closer he noticed light becoming brighter, when he finally reached his destination the realization dawned on him. Someone else was up.

He quickly turned his phone-torch off before turning the corner, to find one of his new classmates dancing (or whatever that was) with their back turned to him, hands busy with what looked like a cup of tea.

It wasn’t long since he joined the Hero Course but he was starting to remember some names and whatever faces he didn't remember from the Sports Festival. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that good with names. No one talks to him anyways, why should he care?

While he did recognize you from behind he did not remember your name. You were nice to him, he thought. Nicer than the rest at least. That Denki guy seemed nice too- a bit too intense though. You lent him a pencil- or was it a tissue? No mind that, what was he gonna do now? Leave? No, you’ll turn around and notice him and think he was spying on you. Did you even want company? You seemed pretty busy. On the other hand it’s his common room too- but has he been there long enough to intrude on your private moment like that? He might not be here to make friends or be nice but that doesn’t mean he has to be an ass.

That’s when he realized you hadn’t noticed him yet. Ah. So aware of their surroundings for a hero.

He decided that grunting awkwardly was the best course of action. Bummer, you were wearing earphones. He tried a louder cough, but you only noticed him once you found yourself face to face with him. A loud curse left your lips and your hands instantly slammed against them as instinct. Hitoshi’s eyebrows raised and he pressed his lips together to suppress a chuckle. Good thing you placed your tea down earlier. Their eyes were now staring straight into his.

“Ehm- hi.” You licked your lips, saliva suddenly missing.

“Hi.” He managed to grunt out. Now this was awkward. He watched your eyes dart back and forward before settling back on him. He really wanted to say something, anything to get this uncomfortable feeling out but that little voice at the back of his head held him back.

“You here to make yourself some tea too?”

His mouth opened slightly, the careless innocence of the question taking him aback. Still, no words came out. He nodded. He actually wanted coffee but he didn’t think himself able to explain that through words now.

“Cool. I boiled extra water accidentally. What kind of tea did you want?” Your smile looked so genuine and again, careless. Like you didn’t think he was dangerous. Out of habit he was about to nod again but stopped in time to force some words out.

“Is there carcade?”

“Yep!” You were definitely too chipper for this hour in the morning. He tried not to think too much about the fact that you answered his question with no hesitation. He watched as you moved your hands swiftly along the mugs and tea bags, your movements rhythmic, like you do this a lot. In no time your teas were ready, so you placed yours in front of your stool and in front of his. Not that he sat down yet, no. His eyes were too busy watching you. The tea caught his attention quickly enough. Sitting down his hands snaked around the mug, his hoodie sleeves just a bit too long.

A string of silence hung.

“I guess we’re both awake for the same reason.” Hitoshi was glad his voice was back, though the ever-lingering anxiety stayed. He actually didn’t know why they were up but he thought this was a decent conversation starter. His gaze was too occupied marveling at the tea to notice your tilted head and dog-like expression.

“You’re writing fanfiction too?”

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“Ehm- no- no I’m not.” Suddenly he felt weird and sorry he wasn’t writing fanfiction. His classmate nodded understandingly while taking another sip off their mug. Looking back at the kitchen island he felt particularly stupid for not noticing the laptop with an open Google Document page open. There was a small beat of awkward silence before the next sentence.

“Then why are you up?”

Ah. There it is. What was he supposed to respond now? Oh yeah, basically I have insomnia, meaning I get no hours of sleep and I do manage to miraculously fall asleep I’m awoken by nightmares and now, as our new guest of honor, the gracious sounds of the guys’ snoring which breaks the laws of time and space by getting across all those walls!

“Just- stuff.”

He thanked every god in the universe that they didn’t ask anything surrounding his very weird and suspicious answer but opted for a simple nod and a ‘cool’. Clinging his fingertips against the mug he realized he should try to keep the conversation going as well; you probably thought he didn’t want to talk to you with all his dry answers. His grip tightened and his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“What- what is the fanfiction about?” He swore he never saw someone’s eyes light up faster, their lips immediately stretched into a painfully wide smile.

“Basically, you know ‘Lord of the Rings’, right? The fantasy book? There are these two characters, a dwarf and an elf. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, these two races have a really tough history which led to prejudice and hate on both sides. But for this certain world-saving quest they have to interact with each other, trust each other, you know? For the first quarter, maybe, of the quest they don’t get along very well. I mean, not trying to kill each other or anything, but petty threats and jokes are thrown around. At a certain point in their journey they have to take a break in this elven kingdom and by the end of it they are the best of friends! Now, I ship these two characters together, so, I’m writing a specific fanfic that takes place during their pause there and since Tolkien didn’t really go into detail with what they were doing during that time I have lots of creative freedom,”

Hitoshi’s lips pressed together as he watched them gesticulate their way through what could only be defined as a speech; his half-open eyes never left theirs while his chin rested on his hand. His eyes lingered from one feature of their face to another, still listening of course: he was good at that. Though his eyes may have lingered a moment too long on their lips.

“-not even mentioning their relationship later on at the end of ‘The Return of the King’, commenting on Minas Tirith’s architecture like a bunch of housewives! Really, in the middle of a war ‘This place needs more trees!’-” Their face dropped and Hitoshi’s heart with it. Did they notice him staring too much? He did that, didn’t he? Fuck. He made them uncomfortable-

“I’m sorry. I’m boring you.” They say huffing out a half-regretful chuckle. It nearly tricks him.

He stared just a little bit longer before talking.

“You’re not.”

He watched as their lips turned into an awkward smile, like they thought he only said it to be nice. The silence slowly crawled back. Hitoshi didn’t know what sudden urge slapped him in the face enough to have the courage to speak, but he did.

“Your voice is relaxing.” Good job asshole, now they think you’re a creep. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from your surprised one, which quickly turned into one of joy. And now he was blushing. Might as well dig my own grave with that one. Fingers tapped on mugs. Their mouths opened once, closed and then opened again.

“Do you mind if I- we move to the couch? I hate stools.”

“Sure- yeah.”

And moved to the couch they did. Fanfiction-writing long forgotten, they placed their teas on the small table in front of them; Hitoshi was surprised when they got blankets for the both of them and instinctively covered him too but he wasn’t about to complain about it. For a little while they sat in comfortable silence, only sounds of breathing and sips were heard. Just for a little while though. Until he noticed they kept yawning and their head dropping a bit every couple of seconds. His eyebrows scrunched up.

“You tired?”

“Meh, just a bit.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why are you up? I mean, we’re not that busy right now with school, you could write during the day and not in the middle of the night. Unless you can’t sleep but it doesn’t look like you can’t.”

“Well-” They huffed out a smile. “-it’s not exactly about having time. It’s a bit more complicated. Like-” They exhaled again, squeezing their eyes shut and then reopening them. “There aren’t enough hours during the day to- to be. The whole day feels like a dread and the only thing I look forward to is those hours in the night where I can do anything I want without that senseless guilt. The night is the only time I feel free to be.”

Hitoshi stayed silent for a moment, elaborating every word meticulously.

“That’s- that’s-”

“Sad? Pathetic? Depressing?”

He chuckled. “I mean- a bit.” Their soft laughter mixed together. “What I meant to say was, that’s- relatable.” A simple shared look was enough to fill the silence between them.

“So, why are you up?” Before Hitoshi could excuse himself again they stopped him.

“Don’t you dare say ‘just stuff’ again to me, I just gave you a tear-ripping, punch-to-the-face, gut-wrenching speech.” With their index finger pointing at him he let out a soft laugh, though his eyes lost a bit of their shine for a second when he started speaking.

“I have insomnia.”

“Ah. So you got up to make yourself chamomile or something?”

“Well, I wanted to make myself some coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Coffee.”

“And you let me make you tea, why?”

Hitoshi adjusted himself quickly and cleared his throat. “You looked happy.” He felt their eyes stare through his soul, he felt naked.

“Is this helping?” God thank you for changing the subject.

“Is what helping?”

“Talking.” He thought for a moment.

“Maybe. I’m not sure. Don’t usually talk to people.”

They smiled. “I noticed.” He grinned.

“Are you going to go back to sleep then? Well, not sleep- you get it.”

“Don’t know. This couch is very comfortable.”

“Oh yeah?” You said, raising your eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. A wide grin grew on his face and he let out a laugh.

“Yeah.” You nodded again.

“You know, I won’t get offended if you want to go back to sleep- or to your fanfiction.” He said.

You shook their head. “I’m fine here.”

He gulped, praying that the low light won’t show his blushing cheeks. Their conversation went on for another half an hour at least, Hitoshi couldn’t tell honestly. Their teas finished and mugs cold, they got up (mostly because they realized the time). Cups in the sink, they began talking again once Hitoshi yawned.

You chuckled. “Is my voice that relaxing?”

“Incredibly so.” He grinned seeing them laugh again. He cleared his throat.

“So, you going to sleep?” Hitoshi watched them as their shoulders dropped.

“Yeah- yeah, is that okay? I don’t mean to leave you alone but-”

“Yes- yes it’s fine don’t worry about me, I won’t die,” he grinned, his hands in his pockets “sleep, you need it.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“No, I’m like Batman.”

“Are you implying he doesn’t sleep because he calls himself Batman?- He’s not even- He doesn’t have super powers like that, you are aware-” Their soon-to-be ramble was interrupted by his laughter.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not mocking, promise.” He bit his inside cheek, clenching and unclenching his fists in nervousness. “I just- like how passionate you are.”

“About Batman?”

“About Batman.” They looked at each other for a second before you nodded.

“Alright… Well, I’m off to bed. Nice slippers by the way.” Hitoshi grinned like a lovesick boy at your comment.

He nodded smiling and moved away a bit from the entrance of the corridor to let you pass. They smiled and wished each other a good night. It only took a few steps before you stopped and whipped around.

“Wait!” You ran and before he knew it they had plunged into him, his torso wrapped nicely within their arms. His body froze at first but quickly came back and wrapped his own arms around their frame. Hitoshi could feel his muscles relax. It wasn’t long before they moved away leaving an empty feeling in both of them.

“Goodnight!” They said and Hitoshi swore that was the sweetest smile he had ever had the luck of witnessing.

“Good- goodnight.”

As if he was able to sleep after that.

Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism/advice is welcomed.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #i love him soso much #first time writing for hitoshi #hope you like it!#wrote this instead of sleeping #hitoshi shinso x reader

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sleepyhutcherson · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! I have a sweet fluffy and very angsty Mike Schmidt idea, if you'd like it??

Okay, so what if Mike and the reader dated for a good while in highschool? Like, they were childhood best friends, tried dating in highschool, but ultimately decided that it was a classic case of "right person, wrong time"? Like, they genuinely love each other, but when they were teenagers, they just couldn't do it.. I hope that made sense?

Know It’s For The Better

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 3.1k words

contains: child bestfriends to lovers to strangers (sorta), “right person, wrong time”, angst, use of y/n, reader works at a cafe, they’re genuinely so in love w each other but it’s just never the right time.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this anon!! this was so fun to write xx peep the ‘normal people’ and phoebe bridgers references in this. btw maybe this could do a part two but idk.

You lived a quiet—boring, surely—but cosy life at twenty two. You lived alone in a lousy, small flat that you were growing to like more and more everyday as you started shaping it more around your liking. You worked at a small cafe that paid you pretty well, with hours that worked just right for you. You were comfortable at your job, your co-workers were all friendly with each other, you couldn’t complain about your life, even if it was dull.

On your day off your boss had asked you to come in, you agreed but frankly you were a little pissed that you were working on your day off. The cold weather today drew customers away so in a way you couldn’t really complain. You were at the counter, a book in hand that you would occasionally peek up from to glance at the weather from the window. It amused you how only yesterday the sun was shining brightly and now today the sky was threatening to pour, the wind blowing harshly through the trees.

You return your attention to your book, having to re read the passage again. Just then, the bells hanging above the door chime, announcing someone’s arrival. You perk up, closing your book and setting it aside.

You complained about your life lacking entertainment only weeks ago, wishing for some kind of shocker to just happen.

You, however, did not mean for that “shocker” to be Mike Schmidt.

For a second all you can do is stare at him, trying to figure out if you were hallucinating. It was such a rush seeing him—your breath caught, your brows knitted as you tried to make out if it was really him. The last time you saw him he was about eighteen, grasping onto you as he sobbed, precious words being said between you two. But, irritatingly enough, you think you could recognise him anywhere, even after all this time, from merely his appearance, to his hazel eyes you remember getting caught up in, to the familiar black coat he wears even now.

Mike reacts about the same, his eyes widening, the light inside the cafe reflecting on them just perfectly. You almost get trapped into them again.

“Mike,” you breathe out after some time. His name sounds so strange coming out of your mouth.

“Hey,” he replies, tone uncertain. Your eyes trail up to the curls that rest carefully on his head, and you smile. You used to practically beg Mike not to cut his hair, loving the curls that formed whenever he kept it just a little longer than usual. Now he kept them, messily, but still enough to lure your eyes. "How…how are you?" He manages to ask.

Your hands rest on the cool counter in front of you, you can see the way Mike’s eyes land on your hands, longing for touch. “I’m doing good. How have you been?”

“Good.” A simple reply. This all felt weird, seeing each other again after your failed relationship, one neither of you have really moved on from.

Silence. A long, painful silence.

“So, are you going to order something?” You ask, smiling the way you would smile at any other customer because a part of you just wanted to believe he was just another customer. “My boss will scold me if he sees I’m only talking with the only customer we’ve had all day.”

“Right,” Mike looks up at the menu, although he really only came for black coffee. When he looks back at you, his mouth opens, and closes, like he’s debating on what he’s going to say. “I don’t know if you’re busy later but do you want to…catch up? If you’re free, of course.”

You had nothing else to do and you didn’t really have it in you to reject him. “Yeah, okay. I get off in two hours.”

Mike shyly smiles, trying not to be too obvious your agreement meant a lot. “Sounds good,” he says, and then remembers Abby has a school project she’s supposed to work on at home today. “Shit, is it alright if we meet at my place? Abby has this project she needs to work on for school…unless you want to reschedule…”

You can’t help but smile when he mentions Abby, the last time you saw her she was still a baby—about three years old, to be exact. Mike was taking care of her practically full time, you helped with her as much as you could, both of you being constantly mistaken as her parents.

“That’s fine,” you say. He thanks you, throwing in an apology for the inconvenience that you wave off. He writes down his address on a napkin before leaving, not even ordering that black coffee that had drawn him to the small cafe in the first place.

—

The blue front door makes you question if you have the right address. Compared to every other house in the dull neighbourhood, Mike’s house appeared to be the only one with a colourful door—that is if this was Mike’s place.

You’re proven correct when the front door swings open and Abby, who you recognise almost immediately despite her being much older than the last time you saw her. She smiles widely, but it’s obvious she doesn’t recognise you.

“Hello…” you say, awkwardly. You’re not even sure what to tell her when she asks who you are—a friend of Mike’s? It just sounded odd. You’re saved when Mike appears behind Abby.

“Y/N,” he seems pleased to see you. In fact, Mike is pleased to see you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure you would actually stop by. “Oh—Abby, this is who I was telling you about.” Mike says, and you recognise that gentle, almost innocent tone he always used with Abby.

“Hi,” she greets with a smile, standing by Mike’s side. “Mike hasn’t shut up about you—“ she’s interrupted when Mike looks at her with a more stern expression. “Oh, sorry!” She apologises, giggling—she knew well what she was doing.

“Why don’t you go and continue your project, yeah?” Mike suggests, paying no attention to you anymore, his focus entirely on Abby right now.

“Okay.” Abby agrees, which surprises Mike a little. She says a quick “goodbye” to you before running off to her bedroom.

Mike then looks back at you, cheeks slightly flustered. Don’t ever tell Abby anything ever again he makes a mental note of that. “Come in?”

You don’t know what exactly you expected walking into Mike’s home but you feel somewhat pleased seeing Abby’s drawings displayed everywhere in the house, stuffed animals — a dolphin, two bears, a rabbit, a duck, and even a fox — neatly sitting next to each other on the sofa. The house has such a childlike atmosphere to it that you couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mike asks, looking for something in the fridge.

“Sure, thanks.” You reply, your eyes still ogling Mike’s home.

Surely a lot of the decor had to be Abby’s idea, there was so much colour everywhere; from the pillows, the carpet, a crocheted blanket on the sofa, the little toy figures that were placed on the TV stand. It had to be Abby’s touch, the only colours you ever saw on Mike were dull shades of greys and blues.

You’re pulled away by the sound of Mike setting down two glasses of some kind of soft drink on the table. “Abby’s a talented artist,” you say, sitting down at the table, across from Mike.

A small chuckle escapes Mike’s lips. “Yeah,” he agrees, taking a long sip of his drink as he stares at the drawing you were fixated on. “She’s got a real chance at being someone great in life.”

You both don’t say anything for a minute. Mike dreads the silence that falls between the two of you, trying to think of something to say to fill it.

“She’s grown a ton,” you then say. Seeing Abby brought you back so many memories—the good ones, for there were so many of those with Mike. “Remember that time we took her to the park and she kept trying to eat flowers?” You laugh at the memory, one you haven’t thought about in a while.

Mike smiles upon hearing your laugh. “Yeah. She loves flowers, I mean, of course she doesn’t try to eat them anymore but she’s pretty skilled at painting them.”

“She’s doing good then?” You ask.

Mike nods, his hands wrapped around his glass. “Yeah. She’s doing great. Her birthday’s coming up so she won’t shut up about that.” He says teasingly.

“Oh, how old is she turning?” You ask.

“Eight,” he answers, running his finger around the rim of the glass. He couldn’t sit still being around you, his heart racing, but he tried not to acknowledge it.

“That makes me feel old,” you joke, which actually gets a genuine laugh from Mike.

“Then what does that make me?” He teases, a wide smile on his face that makes your heart flutter. Mike was only one year older than you making him twenty three.

You don’t reply and then it hits you, Mike is twenty three, he’s not eighteen anymore. Of course you knew that, you just never really realised just how long it’s been, how much you’ve missed. It’s been five years since you last saw to him—five birthdays you missed, Abby’s and his.

The atmosphere changes then. A depressing realisation hitting you. Mike wasn’t anyone to you anymore. He was once someone to you, not just your boyfriend but your childhood best friend. But now? He could easily be a stranger.

You take a sip of your drink then, and you can feel Mike’s eyes on you. You could always tell when Mike was staring at you, there was something so different about the way his eyes felt on you compared to anyone else’s.

There’s another dreadful silence then. You force yourself to look at the way the bubbles in your drink rise, the way the ice cubes crash into each other.

“Did you feel ashamed seeing me today after how things ended?” Your head snaps up once hearing Mike’s question. You don’t know what to even think—what to even say! He’s got you in a spot, and now you wonder, did you?

No. You didn’t. You really didn’t. You longed for him for so long, for the memories you shared, the pretty words that were exchanged—the many promises that were said.

“No,” you reply, your hands wrapped around the chill glass, still staring at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “I just…it was difficult seeing you.”

Mike nods even if you can’t see him. “I know,” he replies, and then; “it was hard for me, too.” He says a little more quietly.

You realise how unfair everything is, how you and Mike are being pulled together again all of the sudden after all these years—after it never worked for you two. There was always something pulling you apart when you were dating, a sudden intervening, but you both always tried to make it work. Until, of course, both of you saw it best to end things, that perhaps there was a reason why you were being pulled apart.

The last time you saw Mike he was eighteen, trying to find a job to help provide for Abby, and mourning the sudden absence of his father. It wasn’t a good time for him.

A guilt washes over you because you deserted him the time he needed you most. “I’m so sorry,” you say, finally building up the courage to meet his eyes. Honestly, he had no idea what exactly you were apologising for.

His brows pinch together slightly, his eyes fixed on yours with such focus even if you’re avoiding his. “You don’t have anything to apologise for,” he says, “we both agreed it was…best to end things.” Which was true, the breakup was mutual, one both of you agreed to despite how much it pained both of you.

“I shouldn’t have left you though,” your eyes are sad and Mike can’t bear the way they look.

Mike smiles sadly, reaching across for you hands. They’re cold from the glass, the contact from his hands immediately warming yours up. You don’t pull away from his touch, the sudden touch startles you but you soon relax at the familiarity.

“Maybe it was for the better.” Your heart breaks at his words, the memories that linger within them. The memory of Mike kissing your tears away, whispering “it’s for the better” between each kiss that last time you saw him.

Your eyes shut, and you let your head fall not wanting Mike to see you struggle fighting back tears. The sudden sound of his chair screeching against the tile making your eyes flutter open, and soon Mike is kneeling beside you, looking up at you with his soft, doleful eyes.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone rather soothing. He tries to meet your eyes but you look away from his knowing that if you do you’ll probably break. “Look at me, baby.” You relent, being manipulated to meet his eyes hearing the intimate nickname.

And for a moment you both just stare into each other’s eyes, Mike’s mouth opening slightly, being enamoured by the sight of you alone. He could live like this—staring up at you, if he could he thinks he would agree to stay like this forever, with you being his only sight.

He stands up and pulls you up with him, his hands resting on your waist holding you still. Holding you tightly, scared to lose you again. “I’ve thought about you everyday since,” he admits in a whisper. You feel a pang of guilt.

“Mike,” you sigh, your hands grasping onto his dark blue zip up tightly, your knuckles turning white.

He doesn’t say anything. His hands move up slowly from your waist, to your arms, to your shoulders, to your neck and finally up to cup your face. It’s such an intense moment, both of you overwhelmed with the touch.

Mike fears that this could be the last time he touches you, he doesn’t know where this will go but with the reputation you both have he isn’t sure this will end well. You know it, too. You know that the universe has spawned Mike back into your life the very moment you’re far too busy for a relationship. You don’t want to address it, you don’t even want to recognise it yourself so you say nothing.

But you both know deep down.

His hands feel warm against your skin, they’re callous but perfect against your cheeks. “I’m here,” you say, “so kiss me.” It comes out more desperate than you would like, but it doesn’t matter, you were desperate, craving what could be a last kiss.

Mike doesn’t hesitate, of course. He pulls you in, gradually, looking at you briefly before he closes his eyes to push his lips against yours. Your body weakens, your heart beating quickly in your chest as the kiss deepens. He makes sure to take his time like he did the last time, kissing you ever so passionately. He wants you to know that in this moment he has everything. That the one thing he has ever lacked in life has finally come back to him even if only briefly.

You can tell that he’s giving you all the control—punishing you to be the one to have to pull away first because if it were up to Mike he would scoop you in and keep you here like this forever if he could. If you’d let him.

Pulling away from the longing, awaited kiss leaves you hungry still. A pathetic moan escapes Mike’s lips when you pull away, as if you’ve just put a dagger through his already maimed heart. You clutch onto his shirt now, looking at his eyes that are growing bigger, sadder.

“No tears this time,” you say, more to yourself, but when you say it a single tear rolls down your cheek. You let out a chuckle, Mike smiles a little too sad for your liking, wiping the tear away with his thumb. But you can feel that threatening knot in your throat. You bury your face into Mike’s chest, his hand going to the back of your head, softly stroking your hair.

You cry into his chest, grasping desperately onto his shirt. Both of you had a strong feeling this would be the last time you would see each other for a while. You sob into his chest, staining his grey shirt with your tears. You were mourning someone who was alive. You felt your body warm up with anger, not at anyone specifically, but because this would always be your ending, the time just never right.

Mike forces himself to look up at the ceiling, forcing back tears. He continues to stroke your hair, letting you cry into his shirt. When you’ve calmed down, he kisses the top of your head before pulling you back to look at you once more.

“We’ll be okay,” he hears himself say.

You nod, wanting to believe him, but by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to believe himself. “Okay,” you say, “I’ll go.”

His hands still cradle your face carefully. “And I’ll stay.” He whispers, a tear escaping.

You grasp his face, a little less gentle than he’s been with you. You pull him closer to you, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. And then another. And another. And several more. When you’re done you take notice of his curls again, you move up to tangle them in between your fingers, tugging at them just slightly. It makes Mike smile.

“I keep them for you now,” he mumbles. “I know how much you used to love them.”

“I still do.” You whisper, tugging at them one last time before letting them go. You move towards the front door which isn't too far from the dining table and Mike follows.

He grabs your arm before you can open the front door. He turns you to face him, his hands moving up to cradle your face, planting a long, delicate kiss on your forehead. A goodbye kiss. A promising kiss that this doesn’t have to be the last. A kiss that speaks more than he does, telling you he’s always here for you to come back to him. He’ll wait.

#mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt smut

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bootleg-nessie · 8 months ago

Text

Rating the Accuracy of Animal Names:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

Marine Iguana: 1/10. They don’t allow lizards in the military

Honey Badger: 1/10. It’s not even made out of honey

Horny toad: 0/10. First of all, this is a lizard. Second of all, I couldn’t find one that was willing to have sex with me so they must not actually be all that horny

Crabeater seal: 1/10. They don’t even eat crabs. Felt uncomfortable asking about the other kind but I’d guess probably not those either

Comb jellyfish: 4/10. Doesn’t even have hair

Hammerhead shark: 10/10. Stop killing hammerhead sharks to make hammers

Paper nautilus: 1/10. Paper would get too soggy

Red Panda: 2/10. Not a panda. More orange than red

Jellyfish: 0/10. Not even a fish, but if it were, jelly would be one of the worst things to be made out of

Electric eel: 5/10. Not an eel. Shocking, I know

Blue footed booby: 2/10. My disappointment is immeasurable. Turns out this lying sack of shit is a just a stupid BIRD

Spiny lumpsucker: 8/10. Apparently this fish is named because it has spines AND a suction cup, not because it sucks on spiny lumps

Pleasing fungus beetle: 2/10. Why would fungus be pleased by a beetle eating it? It just worked so hard to grow

Chicken turtle: 1/10. This is just a regular turtle, there are no chickens involved

Red lipped batfish: 8/10. Not a bat. Does have red lips. Also looks incredibly sexy with that makeup on

Aye aye: 10/10. Does in fact, have two eyes

Blobfish: 10/10 out of water, 1/10 in water. The blobfish gets a bad rap, it only looks like a blob because some dickhead pulled it out of its natural habitat at the bottom of the fucking ocean. You’d look pretty weird if you switched places with them too

Dik dik: 5/10 if male, 0/10 if female. This one’s pretty self explanatory

Mountain chicken: 0/10. THIS IS A FUCKING FROG. STOP NAMING ANIMALS AFTER CHICKENS!

Peacock: 0/10. It pees out of a cloaca, not a cock. Technically it doesn’t even pee either

Monarch butterfly 1/10. They aren’t even one of the species of insects that has a queen, let alone understands the concept of monarchism

Cockatiel: 0/10. They do not have teal cocks

Monkey slug caterpillars: 1/10. These are neither slugs nor monkeys, nor are they some kind of fucked up monkey/slug hybrid. Terrible name all around, the only part they got right was caterpillar

Robin: 5/10. It’s a shame this bird has to resort to thievery but we all have to put worms on the table somehow

Alligator snapping turtle: 1/10. This is not an alligator, nor does it even have the fingers to snap with

Ground squirrel: 5/10. Please don’t grind squirrels

Axolotl: 0/10. Doesn’t ask a lot. Doesn’t ask anything at all

Sea robin: 7/10 This is what happens when the land robin goes pro. This creepy fuck evolved little fingers just to steal things. Is this where fish fingers come from?

Tasmanian devil: 8/10. Much like the christian devil, cool name and way more chill than most people give them credit for. Statistically speaking, they’re far from the deadliest player on the board, but they do have the strongest bite force and won’t hesitate to use it if provoked

Water deer: 7/10. No. This is a meat deer

Star nosed mole: 7/10. Name is somewhat misleading, nose merely star shaped, and not a mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace

Paddlefish: 3/10. Too narrow to effectively be used as a paddle

Shoebill stork: 1/10. Not made of real shoes. Doesn’t pay bills either

Great white shark: 8/10. I’m inclined to agree for the most part but who came up with the name, David Duke?

Bioko drill: 0/10. At least the hammerhead shark looks like a hammer, this stupid monkey doesn’t even remotely resemble a drill

Hippo Tang: 0/10. That’s a fish, and hippos don’t even drink Tang

Bluejay: 3/10. Not actually blue, it’s just a trick of the light. I bet their real name probably isn’t even Jay either

Satanic Nightjar: 4/10. Should be called “slightly evil looking bird” instead

Tarantula hawk wasp: 1/10. Not a tarantula. Not a hawk. Starting to question if it’s even a wasp

Goblin shark: 10/10? Ever seen their jaw move? They sure are gobblin’

Nudibranch: 5/10. The nude part is accurate but it’s a sea slug, not a tree branch. Not even sure how you could possibly make that mistake

Mongoose: 0/10. No mon, it’s not a goose

Bison: 7/10. I just googled it, bison have more gay sex than straight sex so calling them bi is actually pretty accurate. Points removed because there are bidaughters too

Ram: 10/10. They sure do!

Mandrill: 2/10. They could probably be taught to use drills but I couldn’t find any research on this

Silver fox: 1/10. Silver is way too heavy of an element for an animal to be made of

Mayfly: 9/10 Yeah, they might

Fin whale: 10/10. Yep, whales have fins. Glad we cleared that up

Macaroni penguin: 1/10. They don’t eat macaroni

Horseshoe crab: 0/10. Not a crab. Doesn’t wear horseshoes either

Fangtooth: 10/10. Objectively I have to give it a 10 but this is the stupidest fucking name on the whole list. What’s next, knucklefist? Titboob?

Milkfish 1/10. If I go to your house and you offer me fish milk I’m fucking leaving

Little penguin: 10/10. Telling it exactly like it is

Spider monkey: 1/10. Was expecting a monkey with 8 limbs. Let down once again

Glass frog: 2/10. Not actually made out of glass

Hummingbird: 1/10. They can’t even hum

Centipede: 3-35.4/10. Depends on the species, very few actually have 100 legs

Millipede: 0.8-8/10. They have 800 legs at the most

Sockeye salmon: 1/10. Socks would make terrible eyes

Furry lobster: 10/10, 11/10 if that’s a fursuit

Flying fish: 4/10. Merely glides

Sailfish: 3/10. Doesn’t actually know how to sail

Blanket octopus: 2/10. Octopuses make terrible blankets

Cane Toad: 2/10. Can walk just fine without a cane

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gaybd1 · 11 months ago

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So my favorite character in The Brothers Sun is Taiwan. Like yeah Taiwan has its own shows and movies but it just feels Different to see Taiwan in a big international/American show! It’s SO cool actually and so um here are some thoughts I had and things I Noticed about different Taiwan scenes and things in the show idk

Episode 1

the opening shot of Taipei tells us this is a Thursday- the top of 101 is green and is a different color every day of the week

that corkscrew-shaped apartment building we see Charles living in is kind of an urban legend here in Taipei. They say it’s the most expensive place to live in the city, that each apartment has its own swimming pool, and that there’s an elevator specifically to bring cars up to display in your living room. No idea if the interiors look like that for real though

I was gonna say it’s pretty crazy he has an American-style oven in Taipei bc nobody does but actually in that apartment… yeah he probably would

afaik there’s not a way to (“legally”/officially) stream any of those famous British baking shows here rip

I do wonder if they actually filmed the opening scene in the corkscrew building or if they just really pay attention to detail because the skyline seen out the window matches up to what it would really look like from that part of the city

the shoes, I mean we all know about shoes-off houses but yeah

豆漿. Soy milk. Yeah

They definitely eat Hi-chews in one of these scenes

Episode 2

It makes way more sense for the guys to have snuck out for shaved ice as kids than youtiao… I’m just saying… like would *I* do that yes but it’s usually just like. A thing you eat with soup or breakfast

Episode 3

“Are you sure you can handle-“ “the heat? I’m from Taiwan.” lmfao BITCH Taiwan has some of the blandest cuisine I’ve ever tasted (he does think it’s too spicy tho lol)

“Keelung. A fishing village just north of Taipei.” Okay like I can see how the older generation would call it that but it’s actually a whole ass city…

Episode 5

Not a Taiwan thing but the Maotai made me laugh. It’s like the Coca Cola of Chinese baijiu and imho it’s just as awful as every other brand

Episode 6

ok the episode that made me want to make this list

the Costco shit IS funny because vitamins, baby formula, that’s all the good stuff you want to bring back from abroad BUT actually we have Costco in Taiwan and can easily get a lot of that stuff? This concept imo would fit a lot better for China than Taiwan. It’s still very much a thing to load your suitcase up with baby formula on the way home to China, and there’s actually a huge smuggling business bringing it in through Hong Kong but I digress

Idk why I’m happy to hear Changhua and Douliu mentioned in an American TV show… Seriously, I don’t know. They’re kind of like nowhere places I’ve never even been. I just feel like everyone’s grandparents live there.

Even the way they film Mama Sun on the plane. Like the Mandarin music in the background with the announcement for Taoyuan airport… to me it feels specifically like a transpacific flight to Taiwan lolol but that’s definitely like a bias probably

Okay not to be SO nitpicky but so when she looks out the window on the plane to see Taipei 101 etc I’m not sure about that? The airport is actually in another city and I feel like I usually come in around and over the ocean or something?

But WOW the taxi scene my favorite scene it’s SO visceral and SO Taiwan… the street, the lights, the Cosmed/Mos Burger/7-Eleven, the street noises, like I can FEEL Taiwan through the screen and HER FACE taking it all in I WANT TO SOB

The temple, beautiful like this episode makes me believe Michelle Yeoh is Taiwanese lol

I appreciate the viscerality of the night market shots too but it seemed a bit empty

Okay so Mama Sun’s mom is super rich too based on where she lives which I guess it makes sense. But what I am curious about is the story about why they’re speaking Cantonese because Taiwan has a lot of languages but that’s not one of them like officially at all. I wonder if there’s a character backstory there or they just like. Didn’t want to bother teaching Michelle how to speak Minnan or something

The cemetery too is so fancy, I mean it fits but wow that’s expensive real estate

In the hospital scene, Taipei 101 is lit blue out the window, making it a Friday. Has everything in the show so far happened in only 8 days?

Episode 7

“Last night the Boxers made their move” 101 says it’s Tuesday for anyone keeping track

I LOST it at the Foodpanda driver assassin the first time I saw this… So Taiwan

Big fancy church in Taipei? I know they exist but I’ve never seen one in person (like 2%? of the country is Christian)

A mom bringing back tea as a souvenir from Taiwan? 100% real

Episode 8

RAW is a real restaurant in Taipei. It’s very fancy and very expensive and had I think two Michelin stars. I don’t know ANYONE who’s actually been there lol

#the brothers sun #text #greatest hits #100

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daughterofapollo-official · 13 days ago

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Leo Vadez son Hepheastus.

So when we are first introduced to the Character Leo Valdez we are informed that he was sent to Military School by the court.

But Uncle Rick never told us the crime!

Leo Valdez is Anorexic. Now I do say this out of malice. In fact I find find him to be one of the most impressive demigods.

But if you pay attention to how he is written it’s pretty obvious.

Leo will forget to eat unless you eat with him. And you have to tell him you’re hungry.

Leo can go three days without eating and not get hungry.

He fits in Georgie’s clothes and she is a 7 year old girl.

Leo wears layers and long sleeves and pants. Even in the summer. And keep in mind, Leo was born and raised in south and Wild West. Texas and Arizona. The boy spent the first 15 years of his life in desert with said attire.

He doesn’t show it. But his very insecure about his body type. He uses the terms skinny and scrawny all the time. Becuase he’s heard it as a way to refer to him so often that he just accepted it. He says it too take away its power. But it doesn’t work. It still hurts when people point out his body type.

Leo is used to not eating. He is part of Disney’s dead mom club.

No one cooked for him growing up. That’s why he is such a good cook. He had to learn.

But who has the money for groceries all the time? Not him. So he developed the habit of not eating to often. And things snowballed…

Leo Valdez has had many run-ins with the law.

Under age use of substances. Yes, multiple. His main vice? Cigs. Lights them up with his own finger tips. Who cares if you’re homeless when you look cool, right? (And no I do not think smoking cigarettes is cool but for a Hispanic misguided teenager who already has a criminal record and no family. It’s pretty clear he’d look at the older kids in his social group smoking and he’d smoke too.)

Breaking and entering. Sometimes he needed a place to hide.

Shop lifting. It’s not because it was fun. He just needed to.

Truancy. He just didn’t give a shit about waisting his days at school in a classroom. And with his grades? With all his learning disabilities and lack of a support system. There wasn’t much hope anyway.

He’s grades all suck. So there was no point in trying.

Fights. He tried to avoid them. It’s not like he went out looking for them but he ain’t no bitch. You punch him he’ll punch back. And leave a Leo Valdez hand shaped burn on yo face!

Leo was a foster kid he wasn’t put into some fancy orphanage he was put in the foster system. Meaning he had mini foster homes, but no one adopted him. I mean, why would they when he first got there? He was already eight years old and then he hit puberty and then he was a teenager and he was brown. No one wants a brown kid. And he was a teenager he masturbated no one wants a teenager. Everyone wants babies white babies. So obviously. When ever his white foster moms would try to encourage him or tell him he could do better in life if he just tried he’d call bullshit and sneak out to smoke cigarettes and drink beer with his friends.

He’s been in the back of a police car more times and he can count because his foster parents thought he was missing.

It doesn’t really put much effort in with foster parents at a point. He did it first when he was 89 1011 by the time he turned 12 he stopped giving a shit.. he hated when his foster parents would Taco Bell and attempted to make him feel welcome in their home. at a certain point he realize that no matter how hard he tries to connect with these people how hard he forgives them for their stupid misguided decisions she’s never gonna fit in and they’re never going to adopt him so he stopped trying.

He’s an amazing mechanic and an absolute comedian, but other than that, his greatest talent is wiggling out of windows and with his little body, it is easy. And climbing, jumping over wall (Mexican joke, not intended, but a happy accident)

Mid he is bored, which he is. He will leave.

#child of hephaestus #cabin 9 #leo valdez #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

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adverbally · 3 months ago

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The Victims Have Been Bled

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Vampire” | wc: 1,585 | rated: M | cw: canon-typical violence and gore, violent animal death (offscreen but the aftermath is discussed), non-con/rape vibes around a forced biting situation | tags: evil vampire Eddie, psychological torment, obsession, vampire lore in the style of Buffy the Vampire Slayer | title from “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” by Bauhaus

———

It starts small. Misplaced belongings, clothes that he must have left at Robin’s the last time he slept over. Feeling like he’s being watched from the tree line in the backyard. Startling awake from a dead sleep, thinking he heard someone call his name. Just enough to leave him unsettled.

Then the dead animals start appearing around his yard. Rats and birds, at first, making Steve wonder if a stray cat is leaving gifts on his doorstep, until the carcasses get bigger. Rabbits, bobcats, foxes, even a massive buck one memorable morning. As vicious as their wounds are, there’s hardly any blood on them.

“They’re being killed somewhere else,” Robin theorizes, pacing around Steve’s kitchen. “That’s why there’s so little blood, someone is doing the killing somewhere else and bringing the bodies here.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Steve rubs his hands over his face. He’s hardly slept in the past week, jumping at every little noise in the hopes of catching the culprit in the act.

Robin’s face is serious. “To send you a message.”

Hopper seems to agree, since he asks the department to assign a patrol to Steve’s block. “Make sure you’re locking your doors and windows,” he reminds Steve as they walk the perimeter of the house. “People who kill animals for fun don’t always stop there.”

Steve keeps everything locked up, even when he’s staying at someone else’s place more nights than not. Robin’s parents insist it’s safer for him to stay with them than in that big empty house, and Dustin invites him over when his mom has to work the night shift. It would be kind of nice, being fussed over like this, if the circumstances weren’t so alarming.

Being around other people doesn’t stop the dreams, though. Every night it’s the same— someone whispering Steve’s name right behind him, cold fingers tracing over his shoulders and up his neck. Let me in, they encourage, until it feels like the idea was Steve’s to begin with, until teeth (fangs?) sink into his flesh with a sting that radiates red-hot through his body and he’s gripping at the cool limbs holding him in place like they’re the only thing keeping him from floating away…

When Steve wakes up, he’s drenched in sweat and hard in his boxers and shaking with fear.

He’s sick of this game, where he’s not even a player but a pawn to be toyed with. He’s sick of being afraid of every little sound in the dark and sick of wondering how far this is going to go. He’s not waiting around until things get worse or this psycho goes after his friends. This ends tonight.

The sun is just sinking below the horizon when Steve pulls into the driveway. The front yard is clear, from what he can tell, and the house stands dark and silent in the twilight. He grabs his bat from the trunk of his car and heads around to the backyard.

The pool lights are on and steam is rising from the surface into the cool autumn air, though he’s pretty sure he shut everything off before he left. Steve’s sweaty grip tightens, raising the bat so he’s ready to swing at the first sign of trouble.

As he inches past the diving board toward the back door, a dark shape in the water catches his eye.

“Hey,” he calls with a confidence he doesn’t feel, “I’m gonna give you one minute to leave before I call the cops.”

There’s no response, just the gentle splash of the water as the shadow floats around.

Steve takes a step closer. “You hear me?” It’s so hard to see in the fading light and steam coming off the water. He scoots as close as he dares to the edge of the pool and squints for a better look.

It’s a body.

A woman’s body, with long brown hair and suntanned skin and freckles, wearing a yellow sweater and blue jeans and white sneakers. She’s clearly dead, floating with her pale face on display and her vacant stare aimed at the sky.

“Pretty, huh?”

Steve startles at the voice echoing across the water. “Who’s there?” he calls back in the direction of the tall dark figure at the other end of the pool.

“She reminded me of you,” they continue, ambling along the deck toward Steve with a purpose that feels predatory. “Gorgeous hair, all those little beauty marks.” They tilt their head thoughtfully. “You won’t beg like she did at the end, you’re braver than that. I just wish you could’ve been a little braver when it counted. Probably would’ve saved my life.”

The back of Steve’s neck prickles. That’s the voice from his dream, but it sounds familiar now in a way it hadn’t upon waking. His voice shakes when he asks, “Eddie?”

“Steve?” he mimics, pitching it to match Steve’s fear, before he relaxes into his natural voice. “Yeah, did you miss me?”

“You were dead,” Steve insists, trying to hold the bat steady in front of his body as Eddie continues to stalk around the pool, closer and closer. He can make out his shape now, the riot of curls and his lanky frame and the big, piercing eyes peering out of the darkness.

He shrugs. “That’s the first step. Imagine my surprise, waking up alone in the Upside Down, knowing I had died but feeling better than ever. Stronger, faster.” His grin shows a glint of fang. “Deadlier.”

Steve shakes his head uselessly. “The animals, the dreams— that was all you.” It’s not a question but a painful statement of fact.

“I’ve been thinking about you. Even before I died, you know? Popular, gorgeous, noble Steve Harrington, who wouldn’t fall for you? I just wanted to make sure you were thinking of me, too.”

“Yeah, mission accomplished,” Steve spits. “You’ve been tormenting me for months.”

“You think you know torment?” Eddie closes his eyes and tips his head back as he takes in an exaggerated breath through his nose. “Every night, I stand out here and smell you. All spicy and warm. It’s so good, it’s like torture, especially when I know you’re gonna taste even better.” When they open again, his eyes are such a deep red they seem to glow.

“You need to leave,” Steve tells him.

Eddie laughs out loud, that same wicked cackle that was so contagious. Now it just makes Steve’s blood run cold. “Who’s gonna make me?”

Steve doesn’t even think before he’s sprinting for the back door, following some primal corner of his brain that’s telling him to run for his life. He makes it about halfway there before he’s tackled to the deck.

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie croons from above him, “you didn’t have to go to all this trouble just for me.” He mouths at Steve’s jaw, buries his nose just under his ear and sniffs.

Eddie hadn’t been kidding about the enhanced strength; he doesn’t even flinch when Steve pounds his fists against his chest or tries to push his face away.

“I can make it so good for you,” Eddie promises. He licks a thick stripe up Steve’s neck that makes him shiver despite himself. “Just a little taste. Then you’ll be begging me for more.”

“No, Eddie, please,” Steve protests, no longer fighting down the terrified tears springing to his eyes. “Please, don’t do this.”

The scrape of fangs against his skin makes him feel sick. Desperately, he gropes along the deck with one hand, trying to get away from the piercing violation as Eddie bites down—

Steve’s fingers close around the handle of the bat where it had fallen beside him. Without a second thought, he raises it and slams it down into Eddie’s skull.

With a yowl, Eddie pulls away from him, distracted enough by the nails tearing through flesh and bone that Steve can shove him off and stumble to his feet, barely keeping hold of the bat. He darts forward, yanks at the handle on the sliding glass door, and…

It doesn’t budge. Through the glass, Steve can see the mechanism on the inside handle, firmly set to the locked position.

Thank god it’s glass, Steve thinks, and he winds up and swings the bat hard into the door. It shatters immediately and he jumps through the falling shards just as Eddie’s clawed fingers swipe at his jacket collar. From the pile of broken glass on the floor of the sunroom, Steve looks up and sees Eddie slamming his hands into an invisible barrier in the doorway.

So, it’s true that vampires can’t enter a private residence without permission. Steve makes a mental note to tell Dustin.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s head is drenched in his own blood and his eyes are flashing in the moonlight, but his manic grin hasn’t changed. “This is no way to treat a guest. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Steve claps a hand over the bite on his neck, putting pressure on the still-oozing wound. “Go to hell,” he says.

Any warmth that might have lingered in Eddie’s gaze disappears like a switch has been flipped. “I think you’re the one who’s going to be in hell,” he says calmly. “I’ll see you soon. Just let me know when you get tired of letting innocent people die in your place.”

With a little wave of his fingers, Eddie is gone.

Steve sits there among the broken pieces of glass and feels himself break a little, too.

#steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine #I don’t know if I’ll get the last prompt up today but it WILL get done #I can’t believe this month is almost over :(#I’ve had so much fun making you all sad #thanks for reading #feel free to stick around for smutty September ;)

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t0ast-ghost · 3 months ago

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The last one… it’s been coming for awhile…

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

(Spoilers for- well— everything)

- Before watching this movie I was trying to figure out why they chose this name and was told by my mom it’s a Shakespeare reference which.. I should have guessed

- “A Nicholas Myer Film” Cool! Now we know who to blame or bow to

- The music is so fucking intense I’m worried now

- I know Christopher Plummer is famous, I can’t place the face though and I want to say I know the name from the muppet show

- WAIT. Michael Dorn… WORF

- Wanna let y’all know that there was a guy (Harve Bennet) who wanted to create a completely different sixth movie that would’ve been more like a prequel where they recasted everyone to have an “academy era” movie with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy shenanigans. Gene Roddenberry didn’t fucking like that idea (cause only he knows how to cast apparently)

- explosion :)

- Teacup that tells you what ship you’re on. I now understand why everyone hates Quark trying to spread his own brand when Starfleet clearly is trying to push their own into every single crevasse

- HIII SULU HIIII

- It’s nice that they gave him the ship he kept saying he was hoping for in voyage home

- I won’t make a fart joke out of “gaseous planetary anomalies” and I definitely won’t say that Q did it

- DAMN NOT THE TEACUP. NBC Hannibal would fucking hate this movie

- Forgot how much I freaking love George Takei and I am so happy they gave him more stuff to do in this movie

- Falling… for about 7 seconds which is about 4 seconds more than normal

- Fairly certain that’s Janice Rand (5:32) (edit: it is! Hi Janice!!!)

- “We have no need for assistance,” and “Stay out of the neutral zone,” sounds like challenge

- Kirk says “What are we doing here?” STARRRING IN THE SIXTH STAR TREK MOVIEE BABEYYYY

- Scotty bought a boat, Uhura teaches seminars at the academy, I love hearing about their lives, keep going

- “Where’s Spock?” Asked in the saddest wettest voice. Kirk’s got his priorities straight. Er- well- not straight exactly but they’re there

- Them trying to hide that the “special envoy” is Spock when Kirk is sitting there looking at him like this

- Sorry babygirl not taking in any of that information. I am taking in those beautiful eyes tho <3

- Ooooh starting this one off with Kirk and Spock on opposite political sides

- Kirk being the one who has to offer the olive branch probably because Spock thought he could trust him to be on the side of peace (which was a miscalculation cause he’s probably still pretty angry with the whole “you Klingon bastards killed my son” thing…)

- “I remind you this meeting is classified” as everybody splits off into chattering gossip

- Kirk actually getting angry at Spock for “volunteering” them. The giant empty room with Kirk in the shadows and only Spock in the light (plus that random person standing in a dark corner for some reason) augh the mise en scène is wonderful

- I don’t even know how to unpack all that. Kirk so prejudiced against the Klingons (finally taking a more antagonistic stance) and saying “You should have trusted me” WHICH IS WHAT SPOCK HAS ALWAYS DONE. Because he trusted that Kirk would ultimately want peace no matter how battered and broken he became.

- They changed Spock’s ears, made the points more curved into themselves

- Why does every new lieutenant like quoting regulations to Kirk? How many does he just regularly break?

- OH FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY DOES HE LOOK OVER AT SPOCK SO SOFTLY

- I love how shape her hair is (draw it draw it draw it dammnit)

- Whenever creating a Star Trek movie you need someone on the production team who loves the ship departing from space dock scenes

- “I can never forgive them for the death of my boy.” Kirk says my boy

- Okay yes, Valeris should have knocked before entering his room but Kirk should also know to lock his door when he’s talking to his diary

- Why is Valeris so involved in this movie? First she’s talking to Kirk and now we’re following her to Spock’s? Strange (my guess. She’s evil.)

- “It is a reminder to me that all things end.” Like your life. Twice. Also that’s a nice sentiment and all but it’s so sad with the context that even his own original timeline ends

- “Logic is the beginning of wisdom, Valeris, not the end.” YEAHHH OLDER SPOCK he’s got a more balanced view on the world and himself

- OKAY I absolutely adore the costume design, especially for Gorkon. Like the golden clips in the hair? The red suit adorned with studs and the giant silver necklace?? The beard??? Amazing

- I like that there’s a “chief of staff” for the Klingons. It’s like the manager at a party city

- “They all look alike” BRO THEY MOST FUCKINGLY DO NOT

- I love the chief of staff being so confused over what the napkin roll thing is. I feel that.

- Ah yes my favourite meal. Blue. With a side of orange of course.

- “I offer a toast. The Undiscovered Country…” Welp. He said it. Time to wrap up the movie

- YEP ITS SHAKESPEARE BABEYYY (thank you Spock for saying that it’s Hamlet, act III, scene I, cause I didn’t wanna look it up)

- “You’ve not experienced Shakespeare until you have read him in the original Klingon.” Quoi???

- Spock actively trying to stop Kirk from starting a war

- I think this is such a good part where the Klingons are trying to state their worries. The gradual (or not so gradual) need for assimilation to be apart of starfleet. This is a particularly big problem for the Klingons because so much of their culture has been entwined with violence which Starfleet seems almost hellbent to take away. As well as hearing troubling language such as “human rights” thrown in their faces

- IM SORRY. Kirk. You didn’t. You didn’t just compare someone to hitler.

- Spock looks actually so fucking pissed at Kirk

- “If there is to be a brave new world, our generation is going to have the hardest time living in it.” Gorkon dropping all the good lines

- McCoy just standing there adjusting his outfit and looking like the most tired man alive

- “I’m going to sleep this off.” “I’m going to go find a pot of black coffee.” Both Kirk and McCoy leaving Spock :(((

- The shaky swoop of the camera as Kirk and the rest of the bridge realize that somehow they just fired on the Klingon vessel

- Don’t care about the rest of the movie I just love the scene where everything starts floating on the Klingon vessel

- AUGH THOSE SPACE SUITS OKAY I DO STILL CARE

- Love me some good ol’ bad 3D graphics blood

- Times like this I wish I’d never skipped my tlhIngan Hol classes

- Floating dead Klingons. What. A. Scene.

- Aw Fuck Dude. The one guy getting gravity back online and everything falling to the ground and blood splattering and AUGHHH. Every time I think this scene can’t get better, it does!

- HIII MCCOY!!! He got to rush onto the bridge just to ask “are we firing torpedoes” and I appreciate that :)

- Kirk and Spock fighting over who should go to the Klingon ship and Spock saying “perhaps you’re right” and then putting his hand on Kirk’s shoulder made me more nervous than it should have. Darn you Wrath of Khan! You’ve given me trust issues. (but you're telling me this isn't supposed to look like a nerve pinch???)

- Also Kirk ultimately still trying to maintain peace. It’s his knee jerk reaction to this. He’s got what he’s said he’s wanted when incased in his own emotions about loosing his son but he knows it’s not right

- and finally, yay! McCoy gets to go on the mission!

- The actor for the Klingon that greets them is so good at the rage mixing with grief and sadness

- McCoy to the rescue!!

- Either Klingon blood is pink (like in that one game) or they wanted to keep it pg-13

- “He’s gone into some kind of damned arrest!” McCoy proceeds to straddle the Klingon on top of the table so he has leverage to do proper CPR… I have no thoughts on this that I’d like to share

- I do not believe McCoy’s punches would be strong enough to restart a heart. I’m sorry but they look so puny

- The blood bubbling as Gorkon dies is so fucking good oh my heart

- This is all happening at 2:00 fucking AM??? No wonder Kirk is tired

- “I sympathize, Mr. Scott.” Love when they make Spock say he ‘understands’ or ‘sympathizes’

- SAREKKKK!! Hehe hiiii

- “We are experiencing technical malfunction. All backup systems inoperative.” “Excellent. I… I mean, too bad.” A banger scene from Uhura and Chekov

- Rosanna DeSoto as Azetbur (the Chancellor’s daughter) plays the part so well. Again their portrayal of grief and anger while trying to get to peace is so fucking amazing. LOOK AT HER FACE

- Maybe I’m not so happy about McCoy being on this mission after all…

- The giant circular judgement chamber is so fucking cool

- MICHAEL DORN 🫵

- The sparking gavel <3

- I love the beginning of a translator translating all the Klingon’s words

- WORF IS THEIR DEFENDANT???

- That one Klingon that laughs at McCoy’s joke, wanna be friends?

- “You say you are due for retirement. May I ask, do your hands shake?” “Objection!” “I was nervous!” “No. You were incompetent.” This is like watching reality tv for me. That’s some good drama

- phew thank goodness they’re not killing McCoy. He’s too pretty to die

- The back and forth slow zoom in on McCoy & Kirk and the judge didn’t have the intensity they were going for but I appreciate the effort

- “Better to kill them now and get it over with.” That’s nice Scotty

- Oh shit Spock loosing both of his husbands in one sentencing. That cannot be good for the economy

- “An ancestor of mine maintained that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains however improbable, must be the truth.” Ancestor? You mean fucking Arthur Conan Doyle?? Or Sherlock??? Either way that’s a hecking lore drop

- They’ve got a murder mystery aboard the Enterprise, this is my dream

- Hey babe, new Klingon dog beast just dropped (Jackal Mastiff)

- I let out an audible “aww” of pity when I saw McCoy wrapped up in a blanket

- I can’t believe I’m only halfway through this movie what is even happening anymore

- Had a brief pause to voice crackedly yell a little bit. Something along the lines of “I do not care. I do not care! I don’t care! I just want Spock- I just want them with Spock! I do not care!” And then let myself breathe for a second or two (and then made chicken nuggets). The outburst was born of a deep sadness from the fact that they can’t just be happy and retired together. Ok, back to the movie.

- Martia just handed Kirk a blunt change my mind

- “Somebody up there wants you out of the way.” of course, it can’t just be about actual politics between the Klingons and Federation, it has to actually be about Kirk and somebody trying to kill him. Dang it.

- “But the killers may still be among them.” …wait a damn minute.. you’re saying there’s imposters- *pulled away forcefully*

- I love how every commanding officer comes into the kitchen absolutely furious that someone fired a phaser

- On that note: why is there a kitchen? And why are they preparing various cooked birds? Who’s having a banquet tonight?

- What kind of bullshit evolution puts a species genitals in their knees?

- Hate how Kirk just lets McCoy go treat the highly dangerous being alone

- “Spock was right” NO SHIT HE’S LITERALLY AN ANCESTOR OF SHERLOCK

- YASSS SULU!!! Now get your rest you beautiful man

- Spock will literally leave no stone unturned for his husbands

- Either Martia has some really good prosthetics in the cave or she’s wearing someone else’s skin… NEVERMIND haha she’s just a shapeshifter

- Chekov was so proud of himself dammit. Too bad he was so utterly wrong

- Also Valeris is so expressive, kinda loving it

- The planet seems kinda nice in the daylight.. minus the dead body I’d say it’s pretty similar to winters in Canada (yes I made the joke, please delete it before posting) (edit: nope <3 just like Canada. Made your bed, lie in it)

- “Leave me. I’m finished.” Goddamn this man’s worst enemy is the cold. Both times McCoy just gives up and tells Spock or Kirk to leave him (First time being in All Our Yesterdays)

- “If they’re even looking for us.” Bones. Spock would literally NEVER leave the both of you. That aside the rest of the Enterprise crew also loves you like crazy

- Everyone laughing on the channel with the Klingons is so funny

- Holyy shit. Is Kirk going to fight.. himself???

- McCoy angel <3

- “I can’t believe I kissed you.” Yeah. Me neither. You didn’t actually have too.

- Poor McCoy holy cannoli oil. He’s knocked out and when he wakes up immediately gets trampled by two versions of his husband

- HIIII JACKAL MASTIFF HIII

- “Since you’re all going to die anyway, why not tell you.” When I go to watch the cinema sins video (I know I’m sorry) on this movie I bet they’ll say “klingonposition” or smt like that here

- If it’s just Chang that wants Kirk dead that’s so disappointing

- McCoy looks over and sees this

- “What you want is irrelevant, what you’ve chosen is at hand.” SPOCK IS ANGRYYYYY SPOCK IS PISSSED

- Please someone let McCoy take a shower, he stinks

- WAIT VALERIS WAS THE ONE SITTING IN THE DARK CORNER OF THE ROOM IN THE BEGINNING

- The distorted wavy angle that almost feels like it’s going side to side dutch angles with each of Spock’s footsteps as he nears Valeris

- I WOULD HAVE SCREAMED IN THEATRES

- Valeris is fucking crying omg what the actual fuck

- I honestly don’t know how to take that apart. I’m still shocked and screaming a little. The reactions from each crew member being just absolutely horrified

- I’m still reeling from that but I gotta acknowledge the fact that Spock says “I prefer it dark” when Kirk enters his quarters. So did I as a teenager and my mom would tell me it was bad for my eyes

- “You and the doctor might have been killed.” “The night is still young.” They are three months from retirement. Goddammnit let them just get to be retired together on a farm or condo or smt. I don’t give a shit just let them rest.

- “Spock, you want to know something? Everybody’s human.” NO THEYRE NOT IN THIS CONTEXT. That was kind of a big point made in this movie. I think the point you’re trying to make is ‘everyone in the whole galaxy forever will always make mistakes.’

- “Doctor, would you care to assist me in performing surgery on a torpedo?”

- Chang just said, “ah the games afoot” why are there so many Sherlock Holmes references in this one? Like I know they have a hard on for famous literature but this one is named after a Shakespeare quote. Just saying it’s a bit crowded.

- They really wanted McCoy to say smt doctory while making the torpedo so they chose “we’ve got a heart beat”

- I think it would’ve been better if Chang said to be or not to be in Klingon like they did at the dinner table

- So they saved the day? Yay? Kirk and McCoy should legally not actually be there- oh they’re all clapping for them who cares

- SPOCK GETS TO SAY GO TO HELL

- Kirk did not just fucking quote Peter Pan. Shut the fuck up.

- McCoy’s look says it all. And by that I mean just let him retire with his husbands. Oh my goodness.

- Just for my mom I'm mentioning the flared pants (Spock and McCoy look kinda goofy tho)

- Ohhh so this is where they change it from “where no man” to “where no one”

- And the Enterprise rides off into the sun. What kind of Grease ending is that?

Awwe okay all of their signatures at the end was a nice touch

I don’t have much more to say here, I forgot how fun but time consuming it was to do these thought posts. I really really appreciate everyone who likes these posts because it means y’all took the time to read this which is just something so meaningful to me.

Thank you all so much <3

Masterpost