#unnamed fic

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Share your lastest WIP! If you want 👀

which one 🥲😂😭💀 i have a few - will this do?

~

“They’re quite odd, aren’t they?” 

Abraxas is snickering when he says it. He’s just loud enough to grate - nothing new - but in what should be the quiet sanctity of the library, his tone sufficiently pulls Tom from his reading. 

His eyes lock on Abraxas across from him and flick to the ‘they’ in question. 

And, of course, it’s the Grangers. 

Since entering the magical community, Tom has learned a thing or two about their societal norms. An interesting component being that it is surprisingly challenging to be seen as ‘odd’ here. A wixen can be any number of things: lazy, stupid, poor, muggle - the list goes on, but ‘odd’ is a category used sparingly when directed towards each other. Much unlike the muggles Tom has known and grown his whole life around. 

He was always seen as odd by them - freakish - and continues to be whenever he returns to the orphanage for summer. So he doesn’t much care for the word. 

Besides, if anything, the Grangers aren't even worth gawking over and snickering about. Their worst can be summed up to anti-socialistic, codependent, and exclusionary behaviours - probably a trauma response from the war. They clearly have no interest in playing house with their dormmates or the rest of the school, so why bother?

They are sitting beneath the second-story stair landing where the elves have managed to shove one last table. It’s one of the more tucked away and private places on this level — a place Tom would not consider and will not consider; he needs to be visible, available — and they’ve claimed it like it’s never belonged to anyone else. Like it was placed there just for them. Their ease of acclimation to Hogwarts as a whole has certainly raised some eyebrows, yet still, he isn’t concerned. 

He had also known Hogwarts was his home the moment he had stepped foot in it, after all. He is not so foolish as to believe himself an outlier.

Hermione Granger’s hands are waving wildly, turning in circles and gesturing in a vague sphere-like shape. She’s talking aloud - not that Tom, or anyone else, can hear it - and doesn’t seem to like what she’s saying, given the harsh line between her brows. Ronald Granger is sitting in front of her and starts shaking his head. He says something and reaches across the table to take her wrists — expands them — the sphere becomes an oval.

Harry Granger sits beside them pensive, with his head down and reading carefully from a book in his hands. He starts to turn the page but pauses; he frowns and looks up.

He looks right at Tom.

Granger blinks once, slowly. He mouths something, but it’s not directed towards Tom because his siblings turn to look at him. It only lasts a moment before they suddenly turn around to stare at Tom as well, their eyes wide and alarmed. 

Tom watches on as Harry Granger slouches - maybe sighs? He shakes his head and palms his face in something like dismay. It doesn't take a legilimens to read his lips now—

“You are both such idiots.” He says.

The corner of Tom’s lips curl. It’s possibly a smile. He’ll never call it that out loud.

“Very,” he finally replies to Abraxas.

[thoughtsaboutshows]

Beware the darkness, but heed the summons…

Aye, more to come tomorrow from @saranova and I…

[miss-fortune16]

Hello ! I hope you're having a good day! I'm really interested by your wip 3, "a hero would sacrifice you for the world, a villain would sacrifice the world for you". Could you tell us a bit more about it please? Thank you 🧡

Hi to you too!

Ohh, I certainly can try. Still needs lot of development, thats why is last on the list, but basically I felt in love with the concept and started to build a very basic world where that could happen. It's also heavily influenced on how the media tend to portray Max as a villain, but he is actually really vocal both in favor of the sports and his colleagues when he sees any injustice, is constantly praising others, and he is definitely not a villain, but, when putting Fandom Glasses, yeah, he could be one if needed

So in this world, Formula 1 is the main religion, where they recruit 20 possible "chosen ones", and every year they crown one chosen one, and, what does the chosen one do? They are sacrificed to save the world from the apocalyse, IF the apocalypse comes. So, naturally, the apocalypse doenst come often, is very rare for a sacrifice to be made, and being a possible chosen one and/or the chosen one is the highest honor, for themselves and their families.

SO, of course,that year Charles is chosen, and the apocalypse is here suddenly. Max, as the last year chosen one, is expected to do the sacrifice. But, he can't. Because, first, he can't picture a world with no Charles and he absolutely cannot hurt him, and secondly, he thinks the whole thing is stupid, and is this a religion or a cult? Who decides? What apocalypse, how do they know is real? So, Charles doesn't want to die, and does have some doubts, but he cannot go against all his beliefs and morals. So, Max kinda saves him/kinda kindap him and yeah, that's the main plot. They are in love too, of course.

The premise also sounds perfect to throw a love triangle there, the hero and the villain, but I'm not actually good at triangles because Im just way too deep into lestappen and cannot stand even see them with someone else (toxic, I know), but its on my mind, I'm aware of the lost potential (even though the lestappen endgame would be too obvious).

The whole thing needs a lot of work to take proper shape, it would be a multichapter, and to be honest I dont know if I'll ever have the energy and time to do it. By all accounts, should anyone get inspired by this, go ahead and have fun, just tag me so I can enjoy it too :)

Thank you so much for asking !! Hoping you are having a wonderful day yourself :)

[underburningstars]

SPY AU SPY AU!!

Wow how do I explain this...James is a MI6 agent and someone kidnaps Regulus because James caused them problems. He and Sirius then start looking for ways to rescue him.

I've only started working on this one so the snippy isn't anything great

This fic is a long ride and this scares me a lil

[dev-fiction]

Are you still planning to do that oc weasley sibling fanfic? It's written on your bio so just curious , i love your writing style

i have been waiting for someone to ask me about that fic omg...

so, YES, i absolutely plan on writing the weasley sibling fanfic and in fact i would say that oc is hands down my absolute favorite of all my self inserts. im obsessed with her. i think about her DAILY.

(that's not an exaggeration either btw)

i have so many plans for that fic in particular, it's something i've been building up in my head for many years now. i already have quite a bit written out for it, but im not satisfied enough to post it. i still have lots of tweaking and i want a decent build up of chapters ready before i actually start posting - but, because i genuinely don't know when that will be, here's a small sneak peak. this is work in progress and it is subject to change and very likely WILL go through a few iterations before im happy. realistically? it will probably be years before the finished product is posted.

It’s the truth. Beyond the twirling rays of golden sunlight that dappled her memory in streaks of shifting-lavender she couldn’t recall what led her into the pond. 

It was a miracle, the healers had said, she was dead for so long…there appears to be no side-effects…

Even nestled within the warm confines of her mothers hug and her fathers teary laughs, even beyond the rambunctious energy of her many siblings and the knowledge that she was alive, she could feel a chill deep within her bones. A dread on the back of her neck, the feeling of eyes bearing down on her from the too dark shadows under the bed. 

She’d had trouble sleeping after that, for a long time. Whenever she closed her eyes the red glow of anothers stared back at her and left her gasping for air, choking on an imaginary sludge that worked its way up her throat in thick waves that often took on the form of her last meal. Her parents were patient with her, rubbing her back and comforting her through the long hours of the night. It was draining, she could tell, but they were nothing if not loving and with each comforter she soils there’s a drawn soapy bath and warm honey-milk waiting for her after. 

On the nights that are too hard, the ones where the shadows seem to sink into her flesh too deep, her mother snuggles up close and whispers to her legends of old, spinning tale after tale that she falls and falls and falls into-

Healing is a slow process.

She’s never quite the same after the experience, but she doesn't change entirely either. She still chases after glittering stars and beaming rays of light, she still dances with the leaves and twirling gusts of wind, but sometimes the edge of nothing-nothingness creeps beyond the whites of her vision and threatens to swallow her whole and all she can do is breathe deep and count to ten over and over again until it passes. 

[caeli0306]

ok I've been writing this a little whenever I have time and its super top secret and won't be out for a very, very long time BUT

No one has ever paid Violet any mind. Crown Prince Halden’s forgotten fiancée, members of the Tauri court tittered mockingly when they thought Violet couldn't hear, in hallways and in gardens, at parties and banquets.  Mage lights illuminate the room with a yellow glow, a fairy tale-like atmosphere that a younger, more naive Violet would have adored. But tonight, the night of her 21st birthday, the sight just makes her want to flee far away from the prison she’s been trapped in. "Announcing Violet Sorrengail, fiancée to Crown Prince Halden Tauri," the herald to Violet’s right proclaims loudly, and she winces as eyes throughout the room turn, landing on her in unison, before flitting away in equal time. The forgotten fiancée, unworthy of the attention of the nobility that is gathered here, unworthy of an escort from the man she is to marry on her own birthday. Violet is resigned to this fact; she knows she won’t even get a second glance. Violet Sorrengail is a doll on display – one in a dusty shop window, off the main road, that no one pays any attention to.

This week’s word is…

✨ SECOND ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[rynli]

every binary man does this

part 1 part 2

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie helps Jeff and Grant move into their freshman college dorms. Eddie's not going to college; it took him six years to graduate high school. He's not about to put more time and now money into a dead-end education, but he respects the guys' decision.

They're upset the university's stupid roommate questionare didn't pair them together. They answered everything exactly the same, and yet they still got split up. It's bullshit. Eddie knows it, they know it, everyone knows it. But it is what it is. Jeff doesn't want to make waves with the school, and Grant's just happy they accepted his sorry ass, so they'll have to live with it.

Jeff, Gareth, and Grant are currently figuring out how they're going to smuggle a microwave into Grant's room. Eddie leaves them to it, already holding a box marked for Jeff in his hands. He saunters out of the elevator and down the hall toward Jeff's room, nodding his head at anyone who does the same to him.

College is weird, he thinks. No one has sneered at him -- not even the frat dude bro type who checked Jeff and Grant in earlier. Maybe it's true what they say, college is full of open-minded people. He'll let the boys be the guinea pig on that one.

Jeff's door is half shut when he gets there, which is weird because he knows they left it wide open. They still have to bring in his record collection, and even though he ditched hundreds at home, the box is still way heavier than it should be. Having to put it down to open the door is a no go.

Thankfully, the box Eddie is carrying now is rather light so he turns and uses what little ass he has to bump the door open before sliding inside.

He stops dead in his tracks as Jeff's roommate turns to meet his gaze.

Eddie doesn't believe in God, doesn't believe in angels -- he likes to think Demons exist, but that's more of an aesthetic thing than anything else -- but he's pretty sure he's in the presence of an angel.

No, he's certain he is.

The large window between the beds shoots rays of sunshine through the horizontal blinds, painting the guy in beautiful shades of yellow and orange. And jesus h. christ the shadow gives off the illusion of a halo around his gorgeous, lush, perfectly styled hair.

He's wearing a sweater -- how he's wearing a sweater in the sweltering heat, Eddie doesn't know, but he is -- with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Eddie can't help but let his eyes take in the miles and miles of sun-kissed skin, unmarked with ink like his own but decorated with freckles and moles that Eddie wants to trace, connecting them like constellations he spent decades staring at on the roof of the trailer back at home. And, okay, maybe a few other unholy thoughts also pop into his head -- sue him.

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at that. Of course Eddie's first thought upon stumbling on an angel is to wreck them.

"Hey, I'm Steve," the man says, extending a hand out to Eddie.

Jesus H. Christ, it's bigger than any hand has any right to be. Eddie's mind immediately wonders what else might be bigger than most. He can't help it.

"You must be Jeff," he smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yep, that's me!" Eddie says without thinking it through. He scrambles to put the box down and reaches out to shake Steve's hand.

It's a firm handshake, what Wayne would call "business-like," but it sends a burst of electricity coursing through Eddie's body. It's silly, really silly, but Eddie doesn't think his hand has ever fit so perfectly in someone else's before.

Maybe they're soulmates. He doesn't believe in those either, but he could if this Steve guys is his.

Steve smiles and drops his hand a second later and Eddie tries his best not to buckle under the loss of touch.

"What do you think of the place?" Steve says. His hands shoot to his waist, settling there as he gives the room a bitchy glance over. "It's a lot smaller than I was expecting."

"At least it's only a double," Eddie says. "My friend's stuck in a triple."

Poor Grant. As if losing out on rooming with Jeff isn't enough, he really got fucked.

Steve whistles lowly. "Damn, man, that sucks."

He squats then, digging through an already unopened box, and Eddie feels faint. His jeans were already tight, but with his new angle, they're stretched to the max, leaving very, very, very little to be imagined. And Eddie has no problem imagining anything, much less what the skin under those pale blue jeans looks like.

Steve's shirt rides up a bit as he leans over more, really sifting through the box now, and the tiny sliver of skin above the waistband of his boxers is enough to send Eddie into full-blown gremlin mode.

Maybe he should have applied to college.

"So, Jeff," Steve says, standing again and glancing between the two beds.

Neither has seemed to claim them yet. Jeff -- the real Jeff -- didn't want to be rude, and judging by the single box Steve's been looking through, he's only just started the move-in process.

"Got any bed preferences?"

Sharing it with you.

No, no! he scolds himself.

"Nope, have at it," Eddie says, casting his arms out wide and bending at the waist. He's not sure why he's done it, but by the time he registers how weird it might be, it's too late. So he commits to the bit, and it's worth it when Steve chuckles.

"Cool, cool," he nods. "I'll take this one, then." Steve shuffles over to the bed farthest from the door and tests the firmness with his hand. It gives just enough to make Steve smile. "I can work with this, if you know what I mean."

Eddie thinks he's really gone and died then because Steve honest to god winks at him.

Winks!

At. Him.

Eddie!

What the fuck.

"Yeah," he croaks, a little awkward and a whole lot aroused. He needs to get out of here before he jumps Jeff's roommate and accidentally gets him kicked out. Better yet, he needs to figure out how to get enrolled and kick Jeff out of his room himself. "Alright, well, I've got more shit to bring up, so I'll be back."

"I'll be here."

Eddie nods then bolts, ditching the elevator altogether and taking the three flights of stairs two at a time. Jeff's still arguing with boys when he gets down there, sweaty and out-of-breath.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Gareth snaps.

"Oh no," Jeff winces. "Is my roommate a dick? Did he chase you out?"

"No," Eddie pants, shaking his head widly. He reaches out with both hands and slams them down on Jeff's shoulders way harder than he needs to. "Your roommate, Steve-- he's-- I think I'm in love."

The guys burst into laughter.

"Here we go again," Gareth says, rolling his eyes.

"You just met the guy," Grant adds. "How could you possibly be in love?"

"You can't be in love with my roommate," Jeff scolds, shaking Eddie's hand off of him.

"Jeff, Jefferson, Jeffery," Eddie rambles. "I am in love. He is the man I am going to marry. The one who will father my children. The one to tame this wild horse--"

"You've slept with two dudes, Eddie. I don't think that makes you a wild horse," Gareth scoffs.

Eddie ignores him. He doesn't have time to deal with Gareth. Not when Steve is upstairs waiting for him.

"I need to go back to him."

Eddie moves to step around the three, eager to grab another box with Jeff's name on it and get back to Steve. Back to the love of his life. But Jeff blocks him.

"No. No. Absolutely not," Jeff says, reeling Eddie back in. "I have to live with this guy for a year. You are not going back up there and making it weird."

"Well then I have good news for you," Eddie says, wicked grin already breaking out onto his face.

"This can't be good," Grant mumbles.

"You don't even have to go up there. He thinks I'm Jeff."

"Okay, but you're not Jeff," the real Jeff says, crossing his arms. "I'm Jeff and I'm going to go to my room and introduce myself to my roommate and you're going to stay far, far, far away from him."

Eddie shakes his head. "You can't do that! He'll think I'm a liar."

"You are a liar," Gareth butts in.

"Eddie," Jeff groans. "I have to go up there! I live here. I'm Jeff. He needs to know the truth."

"Or, or!" Eddie shouts, full of frantic energy now. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, mind reeling a million miles an hour as the plan starts to form in his head. This could work. It could totally work. "How about I pretend to be you for the next year and you can be me."

"Dude, no!" Jeff scoffs. "I worked my ass of to get here. I'm not trading lives with you so you can try to fuck my roommate."

"Oh, I won't have to try," Eddie says. "He might have already offered."

"Oh my god. My roommate thinks I want to fuck him."

"Your roommate doesn't even know you exist," Grant corrects.

"What were you thinking?" Jeff shouts.

"He clearly wasn't thinking with his head," Gareth says.

"This is a disaster."

"No," Eddie says, shaking his head. He doesn't know why they're being so catastrophic about this. It's fine. It's all going to be fine. "Okay, new plan, I'll pretend to be you but only in your dorm. You can still go to class and do all the college shit. I'll only be Jeff to Steve."

"And where am I supposed to live?"

"With Grant."

"Asshole! I'm already in a triple! We can't house another person."

"And you're not even enrolled!" Jeff adds. "What happens when the RA finds out? I'll get kicked out and you'll--"

"Go to jail."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I don't think people go to jail for impersonating college students, Gare."

"They might!" Gareth says, throwing his hands up. "Are you really going to risk going to jail just for a chance at fucking Jeff's roommate?"

"Well, I hope it would be more than fucking. I did say I was in love."

Gareth doesn't get it. The only thing he's ever loved is his drum set -- and he can't marry that. Not even in bumfuck Indiana.

He goes back to ignoring Gareth and focuses on Jeff. He braces his hand on his shoulders again and slinks down to his knees. He's not above begging. Not for this. Not for the angel that is Steve who is probably wondering where he is right now.

"Jeff," Eddie says, hitting the pavement. He retracts his hands from Jeff's shoulders and clasps them together in prayer. He's making a scene.

"Get up, you're making a scene," Jeff hisses, yanking him back to his feet. Eddie goes willingly and Jeff huffs. "Alright, alright. Let me think."

"You can't seriously be considering this," Grant chimes in. "Eddie's plan is shit. It'll never work."

"I know that!"

Eddie watches as Jeff paces in a circle with his eyes closed. If he wanted to, he could bolt right now. Grab a box and make a run for it. Lock himself and Steve in the room and not come out until he's sure Jeff won't rat him out. Holding Steve hostage might not be the best impression to give Steve though, so he stays put.

"Okay, how about this," Jeff says and Eddie gives him his undivided attention. "The two of us are going to go back to my dorm and we're going to set the record straight--"

"No! That's--"

"Eddie," Jeff says, firmly. "If you really do love my roommate or well, you want to eventually love him. You have to tell him the truth."

Jeff's right. He's always right that's why he's going to college on a scholarship and Eddie's not. But he doesn't like it. Steve's going to think he's a total weirdo and he'll never get a chance to see what's actually under those tight ass pants.

Still, Jeff's right.

"Fine."

Steve really is an angel because he doesn't even bat an eye at the truth. He does laugh, but Eddie doesn't mind that. He wishes he had his cassette recorder and a mic so he could record it. It's music to his damn ears, and he knows a thing or two about music.

Jeff and Steve hit it off and Eddie tries not to pout about it as he continues lugging in box after box. When Eddie's van is finally empty, Grant and Gareth meet up with them in Jeff's room. Steve introduces himself and Eddie can tell they're both silently judging him.

Yes, this is the dude he would risk going to jail for, Gareth. Eddie thinks, he hopes Gareth gets the message in the glare he shoots his way. He thinks he does.

It turns out Steve also has a best friend who just moved in, too. She's in a different building than them, but he's meeting up with her for pizza at the parlor down the street. He invites them all to go and Eddie says yes on behalf of all of them a little to quickly.

When they get there, Steve introduces them all -- Jeff, Gareth, Grant. He gets all their names right, even Gareth, but when he gets to Eddie, he smirks. "And this," he says, smiling as he slings an arm around Eddie's shoulder. "This is not-Jeff my not-roommate."

"Hi, Not Jeff," Robin says.

Eddie laughs and introduces himself to her with his real name and Robin nods before her eyes lock on with Steve. He can tell they're non-verbally communicating with each other. It's not unlike the way he is with the boys. One look is all it takes sometimes for them to know what he's thinking.

It's weird watching it happen from the outside and especially difficult when he's still stuck under Steve's arm. Not that he minds that part not at all.

Finally, her lips quirk up into a smile and she pulls her gaze from Steve, letting it land on Eddie. At the exact same time, Steve's name gets called and he excuses himself to get pizza, leaving the two of them alone.

Robin's smile falters just a bit as she takes a step closer to him, replacing the spot where Steve just was. "Just so you know, I'm obsessed with Murder, She Wrote. If you hurt him, I know where to hide your body."

Eddie doesn't have time to even think of a retort before she's scampering off to help Steve with the pizzas.

He might not be enrolled in college, but he has a strange feeling he's going to spend a lot of time up here from now on.

[transingthoseformers]

SOBBING

You know how sometimes animals get into people's cars for shelter?

I just imagined someone opening up the family car's hood to find a teeny sparkling staring up at them because it confused the car for another transformer

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

They had been so, so close. 

Years. Nearly two whole years. It was only a month until they graduated from Hogwarts and sailed back across the lake to their final trip aboard the Hogwarts Express. They had been so goddamn close. 

“Harry…” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide and wild. She was stressed and pleading, and he couldn’t blame her. 

This was all his fault. 

Beside him, he felt Ron tense further. He’d already been twitchy since they’d come down here, memories of their second year definitely not treating him any kinder than they were treating Harry. Hermione hadn’t been concerned in the least, enraptured with the chance to explore something as ancient and magical as the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry jolted as Ron’s wand appeared in his periphery. Hermione nearly looked ready to snatch it out of his hand.

It made matters worse, Harry supposed, that getting here hadn’t even been that difficult. He had enough extensive knowledge of Hogwarts’ hidden passageways to entrust the map to Hermione—allowing her to safely bypass any patrols on her way down—and the cloak to Ron—who couldn’t be stealthy even with a cheat sheet. As a matter of fact, being separated into different Houses hadn’t even stopped them; it probably made them less suspicious.

“Are you quite certain you know how to use that, Weasley?” Tom Riddle asked, standing hands clasped behind his back, not a hair out of place, in the very centre of the chamber. He was blocking their only way out. “From your lacklustre performances in our shared classes, I hesitate to think you capable.”

“Sod off, Riddle.” Ron’s anger was getting the better of him. His grip on his wand was white-knuckle tight, and, again, Harry couldn’t blame him either. 

This was all his fault. 

[angelpuns]

"Lil Hater" Part 1 | Part 2

>:3 I said I was making a comic so I DID. Do I have other projects to do. Holy shit so many. But unfortunately my brain wants THIS rn soooo :)

I plan on finishing it out, it's gonna be like a ' first day with the lil hater' kinda thing :)

ALSO- if you're confused asf about anything, p much everything is under the #unnamedleosagiau or #lilhaterau , but questions are also appreciated and I will answer anything that's confusing/unclear :)

I haven't made a masterpost cause idk how dedicated I'll be to the au as a whole and I tend to get ahead of myself sooo ;-; yeah no masterpost (yet?)

[thevoidstaredback]

I'm still not writing this yet, but I've got a lot of notes down... Anyway:

Spider-Man: "I study both law and medicine ironically."

Deadpool: *snort* "Yeah? I'll be DD over here practices law ironically."

Daredevil: "..."

Spider-Man: "DD? You're being awfully quiet over there.

Daredevil: "...I practice medicine-"

Deadpool: "Bullshit! You wouldn't know medical care if I shoved a textbook under your nose!"

Spider-Man, laughing: "You practice the law? The same law you work outside of every night?"

Daredevil, sighing: "Yes, I'm a lawyer. Can we drop it?"

Deadpool: "No way in hell, man!"

I was thinking about writing a Spider-Man and Batman crossover like Leap of Faith and Dark Matter, but I convinced myself otherwise. Not because I don't think I'd do a good job or because I'm already working on a million and a half stories, but because of this:

I tend to go really dark with my writing if I don't make sure to not let myself get lost in the words. I don't think I could bring myself to put Peter through anything I'd come up with. Maybe in the future, but definitely not right now

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

Please.

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

[chwickonnugget]

uhhh day 2: Sweets

[thisapplepielife]

Submitted for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Funko Corroded Coffin

Day #26 - Tour Date A diorama of a tour date for the Funko Pop versions of Corroded Coffin.

Info: We haven't had many "other" entries for CCF, so I decided to snap some pictures of my little custom Corroded Coffin display for fun, just to add something different to the event.

Road Manager Steve has his red milk crate to stand on, and is carrying a bag of cash. Gareth's drum set is a real Funko one, I just added the Corroded Coffin logo to it. (It's definitely Tuesday's-coded by including Di and the red milk crates.)

As for the figures themselves, Eddie is the only standard-issue Funko. Gareth, Goodie & Jeff were all custom ordered to be painted like themselves from S4. And I made Steve and Di myself by doing some head-swapping, lol.

And, yes, I felt like I was playing Barbies moving them all around to take pictures, haha.

[prettybabyyyy]

He pulls the lips of your pussy apart so he can lick his own cum out of your dripping hole. He spends what feels like hours down there thoroughly cleaning you up and taking advantage of the opportunity to get another taste of your wetness. When he softly moans against your pussy, it causes you to buck your hips into his face, grinding your cunt against his mouth.

He knows just what you need so he pushes his face into you until he’s practically inhaling and devouring both of your fluids. You never thought you’d get turned on from your boyfriend eating his cum out of you, but as his tongue unexpectedly prods your entrance and brushes past your g spot, your third orgasm of the night starts fast approaching and you cum with a scream of his name that takes all the air out of your lungs.

“Can’t let any go to waste” he grins, looking up at you after taking his mouth off your pussy, chin covered in the deliciously salty mixture of his cum and yours. You pull him in for a kiss, smushing your lips together so you can really taste both of your releases.