#vicky got an ask

[one-vivid-judgment]

I love running the Ichi-Nanba-Joongi-Zhao party combo, not because they are strong (which they are, they literally have the best possible weapons for their jobs atp), but because it's literally just awkward-double-date-core.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Hi sweetie!! How was your first day at college?

hi vick!

how sweet of you to ask me that 🥰

it was good. i mean mostly it was like "sign this paper!" and "if you want balblabla look this up!" and also "please don't wear shoes inside!" and then it was kinda over... so it is VERY much like school. it's basically school tbh... but yeah not a negative experience so ig it was good :D

thank you for the ask, bae <3

[hearts-4-vicky]

I also wanna be adopted 🥺🥺

@ningvory we have another kid 😝😝

[wastemanjohn]

happy deanjohn friday!! does JOHN know about dean and bobby and how do you want him to find out?

happy deanjohn friday to you also (or Saturday now!) ❤ and thanks for the ask this is so spicy!!

maybe a less spicy answer though: i actually think that john would never ever find out. i don't even think he would ever suspect - kind of similar to what's been brought up about bobby suspecting johndean, i think that works both ways - if john notices anything slightly strange in their interactions his first thought is not going to be "well they're obviously bumping uglies" - he'd find other, way less extreme explanations before he landed there. it's uncomfortable as fuck to think about, but bobby has also been a parental figure in dean's life - someone john has trusted, which, no matter how sour his and bobby's relationship obviously got later, trusting bobby to take care of his kids would have been a huge deal for someone as paranoid as john. so later in life, when dean is an adult, it would just not occur to him that deanbobby could ever be the case. plus i'm also not sure how tuned in john is to other people to even notice much about them anyway! he's quite self absorbed. that no doubt extends to dean.

and dean - i don't see dean keeping, or being able to keep, many secrets from john. but there's no way he's ever telling john about this. he well knows that bobby wouldn't be long for this world if he ever did. and if we're talking background johndean - then dean also knows that for john to find out would be very bad for him. no one wants their husband to know that they're secretly banging their best friend, right? i think i see bobby as an escape from john, that bobby can maybe give him things that john can't. consistency. appreciation. undivided attention - a lonely old man like bobby is not going to take a pretty young thing in his bed for granted, and he isn't going to take dean for granted generally. dean may not even be conscious that this is what it's about for him - and he may feel very conflicted and guilty about it. but it's all the more reason for john to never know - because it would be admitting to both john and to himself that john isn't willing or able to give him what he needs. that would be so painful for dean to confront i think. john too, probably - he does not great things and behaves in not great ways. but i think he at least feels a lot of guilt about them.

bobby, obviously, is not going to let on. to protect dean and to protect himself. he too knows that john would kill him and probably not just metaphorically lol. i think bobby would be super conflicted and confused about the whole thing as it is - for maybe obvious reasons - but that's another post.

but yeah- ultimately i see deanbobby as something that happens in a great amount of secrecy. i don't know about anyone else but to me dean and bobby having a sexual relationship feels way more taboo than john and dean having one - which is crazy, but biological or not, i can't see bobby as anything other than dean's dad. i actually always felt low key squicked about shipping them until some very indepth and convincing conversations with @vintagedean recently. i know bobby also has his own not-small flaws and not everyone is as up his arse as i am lol - but anyway, to me that taboo is definitely reflected in any relationship they have. they aren't talking about it or acknowledging it unless it's happening. they're not being lax about hiding it from sam, they really don't want him to know either. it only ever happens in bobby's house, and only when no one else is around. it's something they'll both probably take to their grave.

so how would i want john to find out? i don't think i do. for me personally the secrecy/shame/extramarital affair angle is a huge part of the appeal of this ship. though i'm sure it would cause dean a lot of anxiety - getting back into bed with john after a solo hunt, knowing full well he took a detour on the way back, still a little sore and dazed from bobby - but he knows, deep down, that john isn't going to notice. he doesn't seem to notice much at all.

[thestobingirlie]

I saw a r/nance shipper make a post about why would it be considered a betrayal to steve if robin and nancy started dating. as if steve is totally invisible there.

but the thing about this post that bugged me the most is they went on to say 'oh if robin is betraying steve by getting with nancy, steve is betraying robin in all the fics that have steve/vickie, and steve getting with vickie would be a bigger betrayal because of robins crush and no one is talking about this betrayal'

and i was just???? my dude, you are creating an imaginary scenario. I just looked, there are a total of 2 steve/vickie fics on ao3. and both of those its as part of a polycule that also includes robin. and I've been following the steve tag on tumblr for a while and I've never seen any steve/vickie content on here.

And even if there were steve/vickie content, getting with a friends current or former crush is very different to getting with a friends ex that hurt them badly at the end of the relationship.

I would know, ive been in both scenarios. I've had a friend get with my crush, and yeah, I felt a little betrayed, but I got over it and we stayed friends. I've also had a friend get with an ex where there had been a messy and painful break up. The betrayal was so much worse at this point, and our friendship never recovered, even after they broke up.

Robin is Steve's best friend. Her getting with Nancy would be the biggest betrayal to Steve possible because of the way Nancy treated Steve in their relationship (as a placeholder for Jonathan, and then the whole bathroom scene.). If Steve had any self respect, he wouldn't be able to stay close with Robin after that. Because it feels like a punch in the face when a friend disregards how an ex treated you to get with them.

i’ve gotten multiple asks about this same post lmao, and yeah it kinda pissed me off too.

their initial point about how people that are anti r//nance think about how the ship would affect stobin by saying that we’re treating her like she’s steve’s ‘sidekick’? have they honestly never had a friend before?? what the fuck do you mean considering your friends feelings makes you their sidekick?

from my earliest anti r//nance posts, one of my points has been that steve dating tammy thompson would be beyond fucked up, and the only real equatable relationship to r//nance. because of robin’s history with tammy, and her projecting this hatred onto steve, robin would be entitled to feel however she wanted to feel about it.

and steve dating vickie, while still fucked up, is nowhere near the same as r//nance, let alone more fucked up. get serious.

nancy wasn’t just steve’s brief crush. she was steve’s girlfriend of a year that brutally broke his heart. steve still has relationship issues because of the end of that relationship and they’ve never had a real conversation about it. robin dating nancy isn’t the same as steve dating a crush, robin dating nancy is cruel. and betraying her best friend.

and yeah, i’ve never seen any solo vickie and steve content, i have seen steve and robin both dating vickie, which i think more often stems from the joke that no one will ever be able to date one half of stobin, because the other is always there lmao. but even the few posts i’ve seen have dived into how stobin would kinda struggle around their attraction to the same girl and the way they would work it out.

the difference between stobinickie and r//nance is that people shipping the former care about stobin, and people shipping the latter couldn’t give a fuck about them. they don’t care that steve is robin’s best friend, the first person she ever felt comfortable coming out to, the person she literally wants to combine into one being with.

besides that, r//nance makes up a significant potion of the fandom, whereas stobinickie is a crack ship known by about four people lmao. why would anyone be talking about it?

i don’t doubt that if i dated my friends ex, who he’s told me all about, and of which i know the details of their rough breakup, he would never speak to me again. and he would be well within his rights. how could he look at me knowing i was dating someone that hurt him. let alone diving into the complexities that he would be worried about me being hurt the same way.

even if stancy had ended positively, steve would be entitled to have feelings about his best friend, who he spends pretty much every second of the day with, dating his ex. but they didn’t end well!

you can ship r//nance, but don’t pretend that you give a fuck about robin and steve’s characters. robin and nancy have effectively become two hot barbies people are knocking together, with no real personalities.

[emeraldelysium]

orchid and papyrus :)

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?

ow! (splidao!) [i like it, though] by hail the sun. honestly the entire elephantitis ep is just. god it's so good. it's like post-hardcore screamo math rock and it's genuinely perfect i love it so much hjsdfk

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

bill watterson by lemon demon. yes the song about stalking the calvin and hobbes cartoonist. i love lemon demon in general and its a good song and some of neil's vocals on that are great. like when he goes AND EAT YOUR HEART AND ABSORB YOUR POWERS adjhfskl yeah. i have an irl friend who is also a lemon demon enjoyer so i associate it with him ^_^

[acciocriativity]

you already know!! please add me to the ateez tag list! put me down for EVERYTHING!! (if that’s ok!!) 🫶🏻🤎

Heyyy, of course it's ok! I never had an ateez taglist before, but I'll make one now and you'll be there 💕

[dreamsteddie]

I love pre Season 3 Steddie AUs so much because there are so many opportunities for Eddie to be so incredibly jealous of his boyfriend's new best friend, Robin Buckley.

Eddie got so used to Steve spending basically every moment of free time he has with Eddie in some capacity, even if it's just them shooting the shit in the back of Eddies van getting high after a long day and he's come to covet his Steve Time like a precious treasure.

And then all of a sudden Steve has a friend his age??? A friend who doesn't have an 8PM curfew???? What the fuck??????

But Eddie doesn't want to be a toxic, controlling boyfriend who doesn't let his partner have a social life! He really doesn't! And he gets that Steve and Robin went through something together that they won't, can't, share with him and they need each other. But he got so used to having all of Steve's time that whenever he has to spend a Saturday night alone because Robin and Steve are having Boy Time watching a soccer game and talking about their crushes, instead of hitting up his own friends or working on a campaign or whatever he just pines and sighs by the window lamenting about whether or not his beloved will return from the war. Wayne hates it.

When Steve and Eddie see each other the next day having spent literally less than 24 hours apart, Eddie latches on like a limpet and demands to be consoled with a thousand kisses and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Eventually, once Steve and Robin are a little more settled after the events of Starcourt, the three of them start spending more time together as a trio which at least allows Eddie to hold his boyfriend during movie night. Eddie reluctantly admits that Robin is actually really cool and they become fast friends right up until Eddie realized Robin is stealing his boyfriend ON PURPOSE.

It's not all the time but what Eddie has come to learn about Robin Buckley is that she is a menace. She'll real you in with her sweet freckles and charming ramblings but she's always looking for a way to fuck with Eddie, especially if he's wronged her first. Eddie returns a tape without rewinding it? Steve won't be at band practice tomorrow, actually, because Robin needs someone to help with her art project due on Monday. Eddie got Cheeto dust on Robin's favorite sweater? Suddenly Robin and Steve have plans to get drunk and plan a way for Robin to ask Vickie out for Valentine's Day. No boyfriends allowed. Eddie stole Robin's favorite Steve Sweater before she could get to it on movie night? Steve rainchecks Eddie for their bi-weekly Let's Get High date because Robin is conveniently sick. Must be because she didn't have a jacket on movie night.

Once Eddie catches on it becomes a fierce game competition between the both of them. Steve acts like he's none the wiser, but he's secretly lapping up all the attention he's getting.

[woso-dreamzzz]

If You Were My Little Girl II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up

Alexia watches from the stands.

They're mostly empty, like almost all Barcelona B matches.

Women's football has only really started picking up steam recently but only at the top flight. The lower level leagues are still having a bit of a popularity issue.

But Alexia, for once, finds that she doesn't mind.

Because it means she can sit practically alone in the stands as she watches the home match.

A notepad sits on her lap, a pen tapping against the pages thoughtfully as she watches.

Barcelona B are good and Alexia has never expected anything different. She's seen the system at work many times as La Masia churns out players like Aitana and Pina and Jana, and more recently Vicky and Martina.

There's a reason so many clubs wants La Masia products.

They're all good players but even now, Alexia can tell a great player when she sees one.

You rise up among the crowd in the box and slam the ball into the goal, the net rippling with the force of the shot.

The best part, Alexia thinks, is that you didn't even need a moment to control the ball, hitting it in on the volley and grinning as your teammates practically dogpile you.

A hattrick in ten minutes is impressive in any league and Alexia makes another note in her notebook, humming softly to herself.

She rises out of her seat at the end of the match, disappearing into the building and out the doors.

It takes another half an hour for you to appear again, hair damp and an old crew neck sweater that Alexia's pretty sure is Alba's being tugged over your head.

You slip into the passenger seat, throwing your bag into the backseat and Alexia pulls your head down to press a kiss against the side of it.

You smile shyly at her as she offers up the fries she'd bought for a job well done.

"You did good, kid," She says," Very impressive."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. But I think we're going to work on evading slide tackles next," Alexia says as she drives off," We're trying to keep those ankles of yours intact, alright? I'm going to need them this season."

You roll your eyes and Alexia clicks her tongue.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," She says," I've got a good feeling about that meeting later in the week. A great feeling, actually. You should have one too."

"I'm managing expectations."

Alexia looks at you fondly. "Well, we'll see which one of us is right in a few days."

She lets you choose the music in the car, like she always does when you've scored a goal and you pull up to the apartment a lot quicker than you want to seeing as you're in the middle of singing along to your favourite song but, still, you drag yourself out of the car and up the stairs.

"How was the match?" Olga asks as she greets Alexia with a kiss on the lips.

"She did very well," Alexia brags," A hattrick within the first ten minutes and another goal in injury time."

"Exciting," Olga says indulgently as Alexia grins, already giving her running commentary of everything that happened during the match.

You escape though, hurrying to raid the cupboards before Alexia finally comes to her senses and tries to stop you 'spoiling' your dinner.

You don't know if there's any way to thank Alexia for what she's done for you.

Just three months ago, you were convinced that you were going to quit. You had no passion for the game, no hope of what your future was going to be but now all of that had changed.

You had direction. You had a manager. You had new boots and a place to live that wasn't a group home and support and love and everything seemed to be coming together for you.

A toe pokes you in the leg.

"Move."

"Alexia says that if you're trying to nap on her sofa again then I don't have to move," You tell Alba, who huffs and pokes you with her toe again," She also says that you have your own apartment and should stop mooching of us."

"But Olga's a better cook than me," Alba complains and you roll your eyes.

"Aren't you an adult? Even I can cook."

"Yeah but it's not like you could mooch off your sist-"

Alba falls silent quickly and you pretend to not notice what she was going to say for both hers and your own sakes.

The topic of your sister is kind of off limits when you're in the room. It's not completely banned because Alexia's still Jenni's national teammate but she's not really spoken about if you're in the room.

Alba's face flashes with terror for a moment so you pretend you don't notice her slip up ever though it sends a bolt of lightning into your stomach, a deep pit forming there.

It works for the most part, everyone in the house pretending Jenni isn't who she is to you, pretending that she's just Alexia's teammate and not her friend and ex, pretending that Alexia fostering you isn't her walking on a tight rope because Jenni doesn't know.

All Jenni knows is that you didn't quit when she told you to.

Jenni doesn't know that you live with Alexia. Jenni doesn't know anything. You doubt she even thinks about you when she's got a life far away in Mexico.

She lives there, far away from you and your life here in Barcelona.

She lives there and her presence is hardly ever mentioned around you.

Life is good at Alexia and Olga's house. Life is even good at training, though you could do without the smug little smirk Alexia has on her face when she picks you up.

"You already knew!" You accuse her, waving a finger in her face.

"Knew?" She asks, lips curl up in what can only be described as pure smugness," Knew what?"

"Right, who told you? Go on. Who was it?"

Alexia grins. "You do realise I am the captain? Any time they're looking to bring someone in, they ask me my opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah and I'm sure you gave it."

"You're a good player. A great player," Alexia says," All I did was tell them what they already know."

You look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. You want to be mad at her, to yell at her for keeping this from you. Maybe even yell at her for promising to the staff something you're not but you know she hasn't done that.

If she thought you weren't ready, she would have told them that.

But Alexia didn't. She didn't tell them to let you have a bit more time with the B team. She didn't tell them that you don't quite have what it takes.

"Thanks."

Alexia smiles at you as she drives home, a comfortable silence enveloping you both until your hand is on the door handle.

You stop.

"When I open this door, there's going to be a party, isn't there?"

"I may have told Olga...who told Mami...who told Alba...who told the rest of the family..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Possibly..."

"And there's no getting out of this?"

Alexia ruffles your hair, a soft kiss being pressed to the side of your head. "They're here to celebrate you."

You suck in a breath, just ready to turn the handle when the sound of the lift doors opening chimes down the corridor.

Both you and Alexia turn your heads towards.

It's just a fleeting second.

Just a moment.

But your good mood plummets as the door opens.

Alexia's hand tightens on your shoulder, pushing you slightly behind her and putting herself between you and the elevator.

Between you and Jenni.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Hiiiii could you do a fic where reader is pregnant for the first time? I need more soft!young president coriolanus so so bad

Soft as Snow || Young President!Coriolanus snow x reader

A/n: thank you for this request anon!! I need more soft coryo too 🥹

Warnings: fem!reader, mention of death

Wc: 860

Divider by @firefly-graphics

In the opulent sun room of the presidential mansion that you call your home, you sat in a plush chair with a bowl of fresh lychee perched carefully on your pregnant belly. The brightly lit room, adorned with decadent furnishings, seemed to reflect the weight of the world you carried not only as the First Lady but also as a soon-to-be-mother.

The door cracked open and Coriolanus entered with an air of authority that seemed to dissipate as he laid eyes on you, his precious wife. Coryo gestured the servants to leave the two of you alone as his steely gaze softened, and a small, genuine smile graced his lips as he approached.

"May I?" he gestured toward the empty space on the chair beside you. You nodded with an eager smile and he took a seat, his eyes fixed on your protruding belly which was covered by the softness of your silk dress. Gently, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "How are you feeling, my love?"

His voice, usually reserved and commanding to people outside of his inner circle, held a tenderness and softness that sent a comforting shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in his question.

"I'm well, Coryo. Our baby seems to be quite content by these lychees," You chuckle as your rub your stomach. Coryo smiles, lychees were a rare fruit to come by this time of year but he made sure that you were fed only the most juiciest, ripe, lychees.

"I'm glad," he hums. His hand finds its way to your belly, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of your dress, ghosting over your skin underneath. "It's a remarkable thing, life," he mused, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions—awe, anticipation, and a hint of vulnerability.

You watch him knowing where his mind was at. The thought of his mother dying during birth along with his baby sister. You knew that he was scared. Scared that maybe you would have the same fate as his late mother. But you assured Coryo, that times have changed and that you would be alright.

The weight of his responsibilities seemed to momentarily fade as he focused on you and the life growing inside you. Your fingers dipped into the fruit bowl, a lychee in between your fingers as you bring it to your lips, Coriolanus watching with fascination. The atmosphere hung in a delicate balance, as if time itself had slowed down to savour this tranquil interlude.

"Have you thought about names," he asked, breaking the silence. You chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the room, "I have actually. Vicky," you watch Snow's features contort into a mixture of emotions.

"Vicky. like my mothers-" "Yes, like your mother's name." You interrupt him as your thumb brushes over the back of his hand, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes. "I love it. Vicky Snow," He says with a smile on his face.

As you continued to share the bowl of fruit, the conversation drifted from politics to dreams, hopes and the shared future that awaited your family. Coriolanus, a man known for his strategic mind and politics, revealed a more vulnerable side, a side reserved for you, his wife carrying his child.

Time slipped away, and the room glowered in the soft hues of twilight. Coriolanus stood, his eyes lingering on you with an affectionate gaze. "I've got state matters to deal with, my dear. Just know, you and our child are always on my mind."

~

Days turned into weeks, and the swell of your belly grew more pronounced. The Capitol buzzed with excitement over the impending arrival of the newest member of the Snow legacy. Coriolanus, ever the stoic leader, became a pillar of support, attending to your needs with a grace that contradicted his ruthless reputation.

One evening, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Capitol, he wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting protectively on your belly. The lights of the city below shimmered like a sea of stars, and for a moment, it felt like the world paused to witness the union of power and vulnerability.

As the days dwindled down to the eagerly anticipated arrival, Coriolanus stood by your side, a beacon of strength. The birthing room, stark and sterile, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the Capitol. Yet, in that space, you found an intimacy that transcended the political stage.

The first cry of your newborn filled the room, and Coriolanus held the tiny bundle in his arms with a reverence that bordered on awe. His usually composed demeanor crumbled, replaced by the unfiltered joy of fatherhood.

"She's so beautiful, just like her mother," He whispers, his eyes never leaving the small face nestled in his arms. "Thank you, thank you for gifting me a gift beyond measure," Coryo looks at you as you couldn't help but let a teardrop roll down your cheek as you gazed at the future you had brought into the word.

You couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty that had blossomed in the heart of the Capitol's calculated power.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Robin might platonically marry Steve, though it's not the only reason, just so she can say dramatically in an argument:

"That's it! I'm divorcing you, and I'm taking everything!"

It's usually only said when they're playing monopoly. Steve would respond with:

"Fine! But I'm keeping your last name and the kids!"

"I never wanted them in the first place!" Robin shrieked.

"What a rude thing for our dad to say," Dustin said.

They were eating popcorn and watching the whole thing unfold before them.

"Well, it's not like we don't all have daddy issues," Max said. "Except for Lucas."

"What am I looking forward to with that? Any advice?" Lucas said.

"Don't date older men," Max said. "Especially ones who are old enough to actually be your father."

"You mean the same age as Robin?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah," Max said.

"Damn, there was this cute college guy - "

"Cheating whore!" Robin shrieked.

"And here it comes," Max grinned.

She hollered and flipped the table.

"Yeah, that's right, I cheated. Dustin isn't yours!" Steve yelled.

"I knew it!" Robin gasped.

"Okay, so when Dustin said that things get intense with Steve and Robin during Monopoly. . ." Nancy said, trailing off.

"Yeah, he wasn't kidding," Jonathan said.

Eddie was gaping with Jonathan, Nancy, Vickie, Chrissy, and Argyle while the kids watched from the sidelines.

"Who else isn't mine?! I bet it's both Mike and Dustin. They both could be Eddie's! Look at them!" Robin yelled.

"Babe, I swear, I didn't touch Steve," Eddie said to Chrissy.

"Okay, first off, Dustin and Mike are not actually Steve’s sons, and two, this is just a game," Chrissy said. "Also, Steve can't get pregnant."

"Oh no! Did the doctor say why?" Eddie asked with a gasp.

"Eddie? Did you smoke with Jonathan and Argyle without me?" Chrissy asked.

"Totally," Argyle said.

"The wedding rings were a nice touch," Nancy said.

"Oh, no, they actually got married. I was the witness!" Vickie exclaimed happily. "I got to kiss the bride!"

"What?!"

"We were at Steve's house when Steve's parents came home and immediately started ragging on Steve about what a disappointment he was, that they were his only family. . .blah, blah, blah. Anyway, Robin was like "not anymore" before dragging him out of the house. We went to a wedding chapel, and I watched as my girlfriend married her platonic soulmate," Vickie said. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Didn't you notice that Steve took her last name?"

"I thought he kept calling for Robin whenever someone said Harrington," Jonathan realized. "He was correcting them."

"Buckley!" Argyle laughed.

"Yeah!" Steve and Robin yelled, looking at them.

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered.

"Well, hey, we're no longer bastards," Max said. "Except Mike. There's no fixing that."

"Hey!"

[pitchsidestories]

wouldn't change a thing II Ona Batlle x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1415

a/n: dear readers, we hope you'll enjoy the oneshot which is inspired by this lovely request here. 💗💗

Being relatively tall for a woman had its advantages, you had to admit. Especially when you played for Barcelona and their dressing room wasn’t designed for the average female body height.

In contrast to your several inches shorter girlfriend, you could reach all the shelves with ease.

But you and Ona had established a routine by now. After every training, she would wait for you to hand her the towels, so she didn’t have to climb up on the bench to reach them.

You had decided that the injury risk was way too high and offered to do it for her. Your height had to be good for something.

As usual, you also handed her the towels after todays’ training as well: “Here you go.“

“Thank you.“, Ona smiled and pushed herself against you for a hug.

“You’re welcome.“, you replied as you held her close to you.

You pressed a quick kiss to her temple as she was the perfect height for it and brushed a few stray hair from her forehead.

Mapi giggled from the other side of the dressing room: “You’re too tall for your girlfriend, y/n!”

You grimaced at the defender: “If that’s the case, then Ingrid is too tall for you too.“

“I can reach my own stuff.“, Mapi shrugged.

“So can I but sometimes it’s just easier that way.“, Ona replied unimpressed and threw the towel over her shoulder.

Alexia joined the conversation, a sly smirk on her face: “Oh please, everyone knows that Ona loves the princess treatment.“

“She can’t get enough of it.“, Aitana agreed with a laugh.

Ona rolled her eyes, way too used to their teasing: “Guys.“

“Yeah, it’s not that funny.“, you sided with your girlfriend.

Mapi shook her head, still grinning: “I think it is.“

You sighed: “Of course you do.“

You knew what was coming. As soon as one started, the others would join immediately. It was some kind of weird Barcelona Femeni love language. You quietly braced yourself for the bad jokes that would inevitably be coming.

“Are you even allowed to wear heels when you go out with Ona?”, Cata asked. She was already wheezing about her own joke.

“You’re definitely more likely to see me in heels than Oni.“, you smiled back at her. Ona loved her sneakers, you loved a good pair of heels, height difference or not.

Cata continued: “Poor Ona is even smaller then. But at least you two don’t bump heads when you go dancing.“

“But I always find her in any crowd.“, Ona shrugged, winking at you.

“And Ona is the perfect height for hugs.“, Fridolina chimed in, sounding more delighted than taunting.

“She is.“, you confirmed.

“So cute with your matching opposite aesthetics.”, Salma commented with a huge smirk on her lips.

“Salma don’t.”, Mapi warned, clearly fearing the tall forward would stop the banter with her observation.

“Why?  It’s very opposite.”, she chuckled.

Meanwhile, you turned around to face your girlfriend. “Are you ready to go, Oni?”

No words were needed for her to answer the question, she simply jumped on to your back grinning.

While you made sure she was positioned safely, the brunette murmured into your ear. The smile carried through the voice. “Ready.”

Both of you said your goodbye to your teammates, when you were almost at the door Vicky yelled smiling. “Bye, princess.”

“They’re such idiots.”, Ona sighed.

“I love them though despite the teasing.”, you admitted.

“Yeah, me too. It’s a normal height difference though, they’re just annoying.”, she said.

You nodded in agreement. “True.”

“Let’s just go home.”, the defender suggested in a longing tone, nothing sounded better in her ears than having a good dinner and afterwards being cozy on the sofa with her dog and you.

Noticing the dreamy look in your girlfriends’ eyes you decided. “Yes, please. I’ll drive, you already look a bit sleepy.”

“Okay. Fine, I won’t complain.”, Ona answered.

“Good.”

The two of you got into your shared car while the fellow football player started the music playlist, she couldn’t help but to tease you. “Even though you drive horrible.”

“Excuse me? Your fast driving isn’t better.”, you protested laughing.

“I drive well.”, the defender countered.

“Do I’ve to remind you of-“, you begun.

“I’m quiet.”, Ona interrupted you softly. 

Fast forward and it was the night of the Ballon d’Or.

Sadly, not many of the female players could attend the event because it was set during the national team break, but a few of your club teammates and you were able to.

On the other hand, the gala wasn’t known in its history to be this supportive of women footballers in general.

Surrounded by the nominated female players you put on your high heels who gave you the needed confidence boost and calmed your nerves for the moment.

“You look gorgeous.”, Ona whispered admiringly, tiptoeing to place a heartfelt kiss to your lips.

“So do you.”, you told her and meant every word, your girlfriend wore her beautiful long wavy hair open, only slight make up, so her natural beauty shone through even more and the defender was in an outfit she felt comfortable in.

“Naw.”, Aitana remarked.

Impatiently Caroline threw in. “Can you two love birds hurry up now?”

“We’re good to go.”, you assured the Norwegian.

“Finally.”, Alexia noted happily.

“Come on, we can’t be late.”, Aitana reminded everyone urgently.

“Coming.”, you tried to soothe the small midfielder.

As you followed her, Ona interlaced her fingers with yours and whispered: “Don’t let go of my hand.“

“I won’t. Nervous?”, you quietly asked.

She shook her head: “Not at all.“

“Me neither. It’s between Caro and Aitana.“

“We’ll see.“, she replied earnestly which caused you to pause and raise your eyebrow at her.

“What? They’re simply the best, Ona?”

She turned back to you with a frown: “I didn’t say that they are not.“

“You would have deserved a nomination too.“

She shrugged nonchalantly: “I don’t care about this award to be honest. Defenders usually don’t win.“

“It’s not fair.“, you complained on her behalf.

“It’s fine.“, she assured you.

You pulled her in for a hug. First you wanted to press a kiss to her forehead but remembering your lipstick, you thought better of it: “You’re still the best.“

She chuckled lightly, brown eyes shining brightly as she looked up at you: “You’re too sweet.“

“Girls, time to pose together. And stop that teeth rotting sweet talk!”, Alexia called over to them, right before she stepped on the red carpet.

“We’re not doing anything.“, Ona blinked innocently while the two of you joined the group standing in front of the photographers.

“Lies.“, Caroline said through her teeth.

“Just smile for the camera.“, Aitana ordered.

You did as you were told, before taking your seats at the ceremony. You politely applauded for every winner and cheered whenever your teammates were onstage but with every passing hour you could feel Ona getting more impatient.

“Glad we’re done with this.“, she jokingly sighed as the ceremony ended and people moved on to the afterparty.

“Sounds like someone wants to go home.“, you grinned.

Nodding, Ona bit her lip: “Yes, my girlfriend looks so hot and I really don’t feel like sharing tonight.“

“Oh, you don’t?“, you teased but just like her, you didn’t mind skipping the party and go straight back to your hotel room.

“No.“

Hand in hand, you snuck out of the building and hailed the next cab. You scrolled through several social media posts of the Ballon d’Or on the drive back. Of course, you couldn’t help but check the comments too and they were exactly what you expected.

You chuckled softly: “They write so much bullshit, amor.“

“Let me see.“, Ona demanded as she scooted closer to have a look at your phone screen.

“They’re still commenting about our height difference.“, you grinned. “Seems to bother them a lot more than us.“

“Right? Let them keep talking, I don’t care.“, Ona laughed and leaned over to kiss you.

The cab stopped in front of your hotel. You could barely wait to go inside.

A few years ago, comments like these would have plunged you into self-doubt, wishing you were a few inches shorter. But not since Ona came into your life.

With Ona you felt confident and desired, not despite but because of your height. They could say what they wanted, all you could see in those photos was a couple that matched each other perfectly.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/batlleonafc/748573331298697216/her-smile-lights-up-every-room?source=share

[hearts-4-vicky]

on my soul that anon needa stfu nd take ts elsewhere..

real… LETS CALM IT DOWN BUDDY😞😞😞

[runningupthatvecna]

get the peach(es)

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

it's the day after chrissy got vecna'd and you and the gang decide to check up on eddie at rick's. he's still in so much distress that you can't help but selflessly stay with your best friend (who you've been harboring a crush on for quite some time) and keep him company. 6k words, not proofread.

cw: the good old friends to lovers trope, eddie is an anxious bean who just needs to be held (by you, ideally), mutual (and not so secret at all) pining, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind (she/her pronouns) but can also be read as gn i guess, fluff, hurt/comfort (for eddie), pet names, mentions of chrissy's death, there shall be kisses and a lot of softness. nothing too explicit but minors are still advised to LEAVE

a/n: totally not self indulgent, that scene of him being so terrified in 4x02 ripped me to shreds so this is my fix-it attempt, trying to still my need to hold him and scratch his head. disclaimer: this piece of writing is based on the ending of that episode, meaning all credits for the setting go to the respective writers. sources to the header images here, here and here. lovely divider by saradika. ok thank you so much for reading byeeee love y'all <3

–––––

The overwhelming need to befriend the satanic metalhead found you at that party at the Wheeler house. You had almost said no to Nancy when she invited you, knowing damn well how the night would end. Steve passed out with a girl on his lap, Robin silently pining after Vickie from some corner of the room while clinging onto the red plastic cup in her hand, Jonathan getting higher than a kite with his old school mates, the younger kids asking you every five minutes if you could give them a ride since you usually were the one staying sober.

Additionally this time, there would be Eddie Munson. This familiar stranger Dustin, Mike and Lucas had met and somehow befriended over the last months, due to them joining his DnD club. "He might come off as a bit intimidating ... but I promise he's super chill and easy going!", Mike had tried to convince his sister, poking the tip of her shoulder repeatedly with a bunch of pleases during lunch break in the editing room of the school's newspaper. Until she rolled her eyes theatrically and agreed to let the ambiguous stranger, which the whole town collectively perceived as not really fitting in (and who you both certainly knew under the not so chill reputation he carried around), attend the celebratory events at Casa Wheeler. Occasion: Karen, Ted and their youngest leaving the house for more than one day, off on vacation.

You'd always kinda stayed out of his ways, used to observe his antics back at school with a silent laugh and this .. intrigue poking at your guts. To you he always stood out, and if anyone asked you'd be hesitant to admit it, but his willingness to go against the flow and not conform to the acceptable standards set by society was honestly impressive. And besides, surely this whole mysterious drug dealer rockstar image must just be a fassade and deep down he's just a dork, right?

His eyes follow you through the living room, an echo of your name crossing his mind repeatedly after having pulled Dustin into a corner for a brief interrogation. He finds it endearing how quickly and almost bashfully you look away every time your curious gaze meets his. As you redirect your focus to the conversation you're becoming engaged in, there's a soft smile creeping onto your lips. Little did he know it would soon start to haunt him in his dreams at night.

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

God, his voice. The close proximity invites your nose to inhale a mix of fresh cigarette smoke, bergamot and sandalwood, allowing you to sense what can only be him standing behind you as you skim through the cabinets of the Wheeler kitchen. You turn your head for your eyes to confirm your assumption and what they find is the deepest brown of round baby cow eyes they've ever met, up so much closer now. The paring of his gaze and plush smile somehow manages to dissolve every little prejudice you've been involuntarily harboring about him. Eddie Munson, the town's freak. Prime reason for the existence of the satanic panic. Drugs. And then you realise that you should probably do the polite thing and give him an answer. "Yeah uh, I was just trying to find the peach syrup", holding his gaze with a small lopsided smile, lost in its warmth which you wouldn't have dared to expect from it, before facing away from him again. He snorts a little, "peach syrup?", pauses to bring a thumb to his upper lip, lightly scratching the skin above as if to wipe something away, before he removes it again and the dimples appear around the corners of his mouth, "that is oddly specific." His response spreads a smile over your face, and the next thing he says widens it, "looks like you have taste though."

You move one step to the side, about to investigate the insides of the next cabinet, the kitchen itself almost empty of people with only three others chatting away in the corner across the island. He follows, undoubtedly trying to stay close, and the heat from the fire he just ignited somewhere inside of you rises to your cheeks. "Thanks, I really like peaches. Especially in my drinks. It adds a little ... kick to my sobriety", you explain, Eddie now quirks an amused eyebrow paired with a lopsided smile at you, and as you get to the last cabinet it dawns on you (and also Eddie) that this household severely lacks peach syrup. An atrocity. Thanks Ted.

After he helped you rummage through the entirety of the kitchen without success but under a lot of small talk, the metalhead vanishes from the function for an hour or so. At least that's what your brain concludes when your vision fails to spot him among the people who are in attendance. Maybe he's selling out of Nancy's bedroom. Maybe he's puking up his insides in the bathroom because he had too much of that weird beer he's been downing all night. Maybe he's banging some random girl in the bathroom upstairs. Or summoning a demon. Or both. At the same time. You once again try focusing your attention back to the conversation you are involved in. Munson already feels so dear to you that the lack of his presence is starting to form an ache in your heart. It's tugging on those strings with how much you already want him near you. Yeah. You're gonna be in trouble with this one.

And then he stumbles into the room from the direction of the front door, an event you're totally unable (and unwilling) to miss. He doesn't look like he just puked, nor sold a whole lot of the stash since you notice it still bulging out the left ass pocket of his black jeans. Instead, as he pushes past the small groups of people socialising – and towards you – while you notice a red net of round fruits dangling from his right hand, and you start to think that his disheveled hair and that rosy tint on his cheeks might actually not be from shagging either. He meets your gaze again as he approaches you with a grin and your heart dares to swell at his attentive gesture (you think you might as well pass away on the spot).

"Have some, peach."

It's not syrup, but you'll take them anyway. And with your next drink, you swallow down not only that peachy sweetness on your tongue, but also whatever this tingly feeling in your chest is.

"Chchhrhch.."

Pause.

"Hey, uh– chrhchhr.."

Silence in your bedroom, the only thing illuminating the space is the moonlight softly falling through the window.

"Chrch– a-are you there?"

You stirr awake from dozing off in your bed, trying to piece together the information your senses are giving you.

Eyes gone dry, you have to blink a few times. Figure out which year it is and so on.

Confusion lies between the static crackle for a moment. That nap after your shift at the diner was necessary. God, you need to fucking quit.

"No I'm sure she'll pick right up, just– hey pleeease b-be awake, goddamn it!–"

Is it already past midnight?

You don't know and you can't tell, the clock on your nightstand still broken. What you do know though is that the familiar voice belongs to your friend Dustin and it's desperately trying to get ahold of you.

They must have found him.

"Dustin? I copy, where are you? What's going on?", you finally grab the device from the nightstand, fully awake and aware of your surroundings now.

You need to know. If he's okay.

There's that all too familiar instant tingle in your chest again, an ache that made itself familiar to you for the first time when he was introduced to you at the one and only Wheeler party several months ago. The dungeon master of Hawkins High's Hellfire club, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a super chill and easy going guy, to put it in Mike Wheeler's words.

What you didn't expect back then was your heart starting to develop that feeling, that tingle you'd always get to feel when you were in his presence, or like now, when his name is threatening to spill from your friend's lips on the other side of the connection at any moment.

"Aha! See? I told you she'd respond in no time."

You can practically feel Dustin's shit eating grin through the frequency, basking in being correct over Steve Harrington once again. It never gets old between these two.

"Oh my god", Steve's muffled voice is what you can make out vaguely from the off, he's probably palming his face.

"Dustin!", your voice disappears into the device, and your impatience grows with every passing second, hoping he gets the hint.

There's the sound of a door falling shut, leaves rustling under shoes, he must be outside now.

"Alright, okay yeah, so we found him at Rick's and he's really upset and he's been asking for you. I know it's late but can you meet us out here? And maybe, uh, stay with him?"

It's not even worth questioning. You're already wearing shoes. Your biggest hoodie in tow, you stumble into your kitchen with the intention to raid your own snack drawer. Pulling out Eddie's favourite, which you of course had stocked up on ever since hanging out with him at your place had become more of a weekly routine for the both of you.

Ten minutes, you told him. You'd be there in ten.

The drive feels like forever. The longest ten minutes of your life, you think.

You know the route like the back of your hand, having driven along the gravelly road leading from the last intersection before Hawkins' border to the outer world, to the serene woods surrounding Lover's Lake countless times. Eddie would take you here ever so often, for picnics, an occasional smoke after picking up a new delivery from Rick's, cloud or star gazing, listening to Metallica and Tears for Fears on Wayne's old walkman.

The gravel crunches underneath your white reeboks as they land on the ground. You close the door to your car as quietly as possible after you've taken out the bag and your hoodie.

Dustin and Steve are stood outside the boathouse, waving like madmen in the darkness once you come into their periphery.

The younger boy hugs you tightly.

"So glad you could make it", he gets out, the relief palpable through his voice as well as the grip he holds you in for a brief moment.

You look at them both after Steve presses you against him cordially, and breathe out through your nose, making your nostrils flare.

Dustin cracks open the case to you as he starts to ramble about the state in which they found your best friend, "well first he attacked Steve with a broken bottle, we had to put in great effort to convince him that we'd be on his side, and we came to the conclusion that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, basically."

What you want right now goes without saying. Everyone here knows how close you and Eddie are. As friends, of course. No one would think anything different.

Without wasting another second, the boys lead you inside where Max and Robin are knelt on the wooden floor. Heads turning towards the entrance of the room where you're now standing.

The sight of what's offered to your eyes, sitting opposite of them, breaks your heart.

You can see that he's slightly shivering, eyes glassy in the dim lit room. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips though once his brain grasps your presence, and he can't help anymore but let the water fall once his eyes lock with yours.

The pain that is swimming in those two deep warm brown oceans hits you like a dagger to the chest. Over the months of being friends with him you'd seen him various different states, none of them comparable to this.

"Peach", his shaky voice announces your arrival and the sound of your nickname spilling from his lips cracks through your bones. The bag that's slung around your shoulder drops onto the wood with a dull thud.

Wobbly legs carry him towards you with a gentle shove past Robin and Max. You're once again reminded of your best friend's sheer physical strength as he wraps his arms around you, instantly burying his face into the crook of your neck.

One arm of your own sneaks around his torso, pressing him against you as tightly as your own strength allows you, while your other hand comes up to bury itself underneath the mane and to end up scratching soothingly over the scalp above the nape of his neck.

Eddie lets out a muffled sob, sniffling into the collar of the sweatshirt you threw on in a haste. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, certainly not Steve Harrington, so he clutches onto you so tightly that he thinks you might just feel his heavy heart beating anxiously against your chest.

And you do. How could you not with the amount of world he means to you? Like an automatism your other hand rubs slow circles over his back. Comforting him in the best way you could. Not a conscious decision you make.

"Okay so, m'not meaning to ruin the party, in fact I'd love to stay for another round of doom talk, but I really should get home soon, guys", Robin scratches the back of her head after she gets up from her huddled position next to the wooden crate Eddie had been sitting on. Max joins in and agrees, mumbling something about having to move her mom from being passed out on the couch again into her bed.

"Yeah me too, actually. My dad's gonna be fucking pissed. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?", Steve's voice echoes through the room and you can tell he's already shoved Dustin back outside, itching to drive the kid home.

As Eddie processes having to stay in hiding, added the possibility of everyone leaving without him, his grip on you tightens even more.

"It's okay, Eds", you speak softly, head slightly tilted so your cheek rests on the dark frizzy mop you could call his hair. The skin on his neck and scalp so warm underneath your fingertips as you keep scratching it, emphasizing your presence, "I'll stay."

A soft muffled whimper is what you get as a response, and the way he lets you see him in this state melts your insides to a puddle.

You just need him to be okay.

They wave their goodbyes behind your back, accompanied by mumbles of "see you in the morning", and you can't even bring yourself to turn your head around, fully focused on making the young man in your arms less terrified of the world. A world he was sure was now going to come for him with all its force – in deep conviction of him being responsible for Chrissy's misfortunate end.

The door falls shut and Eddie muffles a quiet thank you into the fabric of your sweatshirt. The skin on your neck is damp with his tears, wet eyelashes tickling every time he blinks.

"It's okay, Eds", you softly keep repeating your words to him while continuously rubbing over the denim of his signature Dio vest in a slow motion, when he feels the urgency to claim the truth into the collar of your sweater about what has happened, "I– I didn't do it, I swear."

As if you would need any convincing.

"Oh no of course you didn't, I know that", you're looking for a way to ease the distress this entire situation is causing him, his quivering voice adding to your desire to soothe him to inner peace, "can I make a suggestion?"

Eddie nods with another sniffle against your collarbone, the round wet tip of his nose brushing against the column of your throat lightly. To his ears, your voice sounds like silk right about now.

"How about we head over to the main house and get ourselves a little more comfortable? Since we're gonna be here for a little longer? My god you probably haven't slept or eaten at all, have you?"

You can feel him nod his head again with a hum this time, and you start to think that the tears might not just be pouring because he just witnessed someone suffer a gruesome death right in front of him, but also due to physical exhaustion.

It makes your heart ache even more, that tingle still present, even more so now. It hurts to see your best friend hurt.

He just needs to be okay. And in that heart of yours there's that little spark of hope that leads you to believe you could be the one helping him with that.

You'd really want that. Be all his to find comfort in, to hold close, to kiss stupid

Stop.

A sigh escapes your lungs at the thought. That tingle, that longing, it's selfish. It familiarly pools in your belly and slowly drips downwards. You push your brain aside. This is about soothing your best friend now.

"C'mon then", you utter softly, encouraging him with your hand to lift his head from where it leans against your shoulder.

For your heart it's almost too much to look at, the hurt still swimming in the glassy big brown irises, his waterline red and puffy. The soft smile returning to his lips causes the wet apples of his cheeks to push up slightly, reflecting the dim light coming from the one torch Robin left you, placed on one of the crates.

He really hadn't been able to close an eye for a single second since he he'd gotten up for school the day prior.

You smile back at him almost bashfully as you slowly create space between your bodies.

Eddie is grateful that it's you who grabs his ringed hand next.

He squeezes yours, hoping to get the message of this meaning something to him across.

And he closely trails behind you as you lead the way.

The house feels empty, like no one's really been here in months. You'd never been inside. The few times you'd accompanied Eddie grabbing stash you'd stayed in his van, waiting. But as far as you now can make out in the darkness, there's a couch with knitted blankets, a little TV with a whole stack of VHS almost rising as high as the screen itself, spilled and spluttered empty cans and papers and wrappings littered all around. Maybe this is why he never let you come inside with him. Keeping you out of this definitely not sterile mess. Along with keeping you out of the business.

In the middle of the living room, you let go of his hand and shuffle one step away from him. He's inside now. Safe. Job done. Doesn't need physical contact. You shouldn't, he's your friend. You feel like something between you would break if you'd go there.

Eddie thinks otherwise, regarding close proximity at least. He promptly follows you into what you believe to be the kitchen where you hope you might find a tea bag or two. He comes up behind you and encases you in his arms as you rummage through the cabinets (feels familiar, hm?), not at all ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your body pressed against his own just yet.

You giggle at the silliness of him putting weight on you just to make it harder for you to reach into the cabinets. It's endearing. And very Eddie.

Twenty minutes later and there's two mugs – cleaned to your best ability – with steaming hot liquid on the sixties wooden coffee table. Next to them a plate filled with the almost equally hot insides of a ravioli in tomato sauce can. Thank Rick for a still functioning microwave.

You drape the knitted blankets over both you and Eddie as you settle into the cushions. The only light existent coming from two lit candles on said coffee table. It wouldn't be too wise setting up the torch you think.

The side of Eddie's face glows in the orange yellow, his wide brown bambi eyes dried after the first grand storm, and there's this tug on the corner of his pink plush lips again. He exchanged his leather jacket for the freshly washed hoodie for comfort and a small part of you hopes he doesn't spill his dinner onto any of it.

You lean back into the backrest of the worn out couch and watch as he eats, a domestic thing you've done a thousand times already, yet you still find comfort in knowing that he's nourishing himself.

Or well, in this case, inhaling the raviolis.

"Thank you Peach", he moves to put the empty plate back on the coffee table and it makes the spoon chink and glide along the edge, "I really needed this."

His voice is a little hoarse, probably from the emotions of the hours behind him. Maybe he has indeed calmed down a little. His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing.

You give him the most empathetic smile you can bring yourself to display, painfully aware of the blaze that is transpiring through your leggings and seeping into your bones, "it's no big deal, really. I mean it is– uh, being there for you, is."

And he can't bring himself to look up at you. Instead, he stares at the empty plate on that coffee table in front of him.

"And to me as well. It really helps that you're here."

He doesn't bother moving the calloused warmth of his hand from the soft warmth of your thigh. It lights your entire nervous system on fire. In a good way.

And that's when you begin to wonder if everything that has just happened and is still happening right now changes anything.

"I'm so glad it does", is all you're able to get out.

Eddie decides that it's time to lean into your side and wrap his arms around your torso once again, drop his head back to its favourite place with a soft content little hum.

He just needs physical comfort. Of course. Just that. Nothing more, nothing else.

The words are redundant but your mouth articulates them anyway, "try to get some sleep, yeah?"

His back already lifts and falls evenly. You place your hand on the back of his head that rests in the crook of your neck again, scratching through the curls lightly, searching to help him shut off even deeper.

–––––

The candles have gone out by the time your eyelids slowly open. It takes you a moment to recall the location you fell asleep in, and you hope that the nightly darkness the whole room is now filled with hasn't invited any stranger to take advantage of your unconsciousness.

There's a warm hand holding your face, the pad of a thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek softly. It makes its way from the bridge of your nose to the outer corner of your eye, and back. And forth. And back. And forth.

You must have moved to lie down on your back in your sleep, with Eddie's weight still on your body, legs entangled. It's not the first time you've slept like this, there had been movie nights that had ended similarly.

His hand caressing your cheek though, yeah that is new. There's something unspoken in the air this time around. Your stomach is doing flip flops when you realise that he is propped up on his elbow, just .. looking at you. With eyes that don't require light to hint at whatever it is he is trying to say, or maybe not trying at all.

"Eds, what are you doing?", you ask almost in a whisper followed by a lopsided smile, expecting an unserious answer, because he always tends to make a joke whenever he tries to avoid conversing about emotions regarding his heart.

His thumb stops its acrobatics on your cheek, comes to a halt.

"I'm–", he takes a deep breath before he continues, "I'm just so grateful it's you that's here right now."

Your hand comes up to cup his. Brush over his rough knuckles with a thumb of your own. Enjoying the warmth that is seeping from his palm into your skin.

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be a little opposed to spending the night with Harrington", you laugh, an attempt to turn your nerves into humour.

Eddie snorts a little, "yeah right, it's almost like you know me", he grins and pushes himself even closer to your face than he already is. It doesn't necessarily help in extinguishing the fire that's consuming you whole at this point.

"It's almost like we're best friends and I know what you think of him because every time Dustin or literally anyone else mentions his name around you, you're not necessarily secretive about it."

"Hey, my own worldview is not my fault, it's just– ... he just kinda seems like a douche of the highest order."

"He's quite alright, Eds. Try giving him a chance, I think he'd look great as Coffin's tambourinist."

He snorts again and you feel his breath on the column of your neck next when he dips his head down, nose pressing against the soft skin, his small giggle being swallowed by the collar of your sweatshirt.

Your favourite sound. Ever. Followed by the relieved moan Eddie lets out at the way your other hand is softly rubbing over his shoulder blade. The vibration against your neck makes you twitch as much as being pinned into the couch cushions by his body allows you.

It's soothing as much for you as it is for him.

When he lifts his head, the soft gaze he eyes you with is enough to let the goosebumps erupt. Even in the darkness of the room you can still make out those round buttons that could melt the entire north pole.

"Thank you, Peach, really. I'd be goin' mental right now and probably tryin' to counter that by smoking an equally mental amount of the stash I've been hiding here."

Your heart aches.

"I'm just glad I can be that kind of comfort to you, Eds. You don't have to go through whatever the fuck this is alone."

"I know I'm never gonna be alone as long as you are there."

You almost cry yourself now, his words making your hand travel from his own to his cheek, almost passing out from the way his eyes bore into your own once again.

Eddie isn't sure what it is that is making him feel lightheaded right now. The whole rollercoaster of events of the past hours. Or your words of affirmation. Or mayhaps it is your cute soft hand with that little ring on your thumb which is gently swiping over his damp skin.

That cute soft hand he'd been imagining countless times at night, silently yearning for your eyes to look at him differently, to finally see him in a different light the next time you'd hang out.

Probably a combination of just everything.

You reciprocate his soft half-lidded gaze, hand moving from his cheek to tuck some of his hair behind his left ear, revealing that delicate silver hoop earring you'd gifted to him for his birthday, after having talked your ear off about getting his ear pierced for literal months.

He'd insisted you join him for the appointment, "another metal moment for the books", as Eddie had called it, the need to have his hand held during the stab comically urgent in the way his voice sounded when he called you that day. And in the pace in which he picked you up.

"I'm here no matter what", you respond to his sentiment, that hand that brushed his hair away resting on the side of his neck while leaning the weight of your head into his palm that is still attached to your cheek.

Eddie's confidence reaches a new all time high with the admission of your unconditional support being stirred into the cocktail of hormones and emotions that's been circulating in his bloodstream for a generous amount of time now.

Because then he goes on by saying impossible things.

Impossible things with a slightly less platonic undertone.

"You're so fucking sweet, has anyone ever told you?"

You smile as you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks once again and you're sure he won't be able to see just how flustered he's getting you (joke's on you he does).

You're also sure he's out of his mind for saying that. Now.

"A shame, honestly. You should scold your best friend for not telling you sooner. Tell him what a fucking idiot he is."

Eddie earns another giggle from you. Music to his ears. Better than Metallica. Okay maybe not but .. pretty fucking close.

"I'll let him know next time I see him", you say with a grin, playing along with pleasure, and you ask yourself why it is only now that you realise just how fucking close his face is to yours.

There is a moment of silence in which Eddie hesitates articulating whatever is seemingly bugging his mind.

"Do you, uh, still like him?"

If you lifted your head just a little your noses would be touching. A silly and utmost redundant question, and yet, Eddie dreads your answer. If the circumstances were different, less dystopian and tragic, you'd seriously wonder what would spark the doubt in your friendship in him, but considering that everyone else would be going to pour their judgement over him, you understand.

Every word exchanged between the two of you at this hour is soaked in mutual infatuation, something the idiots in both of you are slowly starting to fathom as well.

"Of course I do, he's everything to me."

As you say it, you can't help the grin which reappears reliably each time you finish verbalizing your thoughts. It's contagious, you notice.

"And do you think – just hypothetically of course", it's only then he breaks eye contact to clear his throat, "of course", you interrupt him still smiling and cocking an eyebrow at him, "d'ya think it would be okay for this best friend to, uh, maybe...", Eddie pauses, internally watching the ship containing his confidence set sail slowly and ultimately letting the irrational thoughts win for tonight, "would you let him..."

Eddie generally wasn't someone who lacked confidence. It showed in the way he boisterously wandered the halls of Hawkins High, the way his demeanor never changed, his mask never faltered no matter who was around. Except for you. You who he had always granted a look underneath the impulsive, extroverted surface.

"Eds", you try everything in your power to stay calm even though everything inside of you is screaming right now and you're certain you can feel your pulse in your earlobes.

"Would it be just insane of that best friend to kiss you right now?"

You want to squeal and kick your feet, pull him into your face, pinch your own forearm, pass away, leave the house and never return, and stay right where you are forever, buried underneath your favourite metalhead, the parts where your bodies are touching practically on fire, cosy and content.

Instead, the most fond smile spreads over your lips as you try to contain your internal overwhelm.

It's still dark, the only light source being the full moon outside. Eddie's so hopeful of your reciprocation and even more terrified of ruining his entire life at the same time, those deep doe eyes at this point pretty much resemble the shape of the space rock orbiting earth. Rejection from you, his pretty Peach and the Bonnie to his Clyde, would be unbearable.

"I think so," you almost whisper, the hand that's been rubbing over Eddie's back coming up to lightly trace one of his eyebrows with your index finger because you just can't seem to not touch him in some way, "but you should know that I love his insanity."

Your small giggle is being silenced by a soft and cautious kiss from Eddie Munson. Like he doesn't want to break you. Or he's afraid you'll snap out of a haze, slap him and leave if he starts kissing you like he really wants to.

And then it's you who goes for it, you feel at home, right where you belong, you don't think you've ever felt this good. The hand on his jaw tugs him closer softly, pressing your lips to his with a bit more urgency.

It gives him all the confirmation he could possibly need.

That tingle, it grows and fills up your chest and shoots through your entire being, goosebumps and all. Eddie moans and breathes against your lips, tongue dancing over the thin skin, asking for permission.

His ringed hand digs deeper and slowly moves to the nape of your neck, intending to hold you in place, afraid you could slip away from him if he didn't. This blossoming thing between you could slip away from him. If he didn't.

It's so soft, the way his lips touch yours, and before you know it they move to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck before Eddie comes up again, smiling from ear to ear, to gently bump his nose against the tip of yours and his lips return home with a soft and deep hum escaping from his lungs into your mouth.

Relief floods his veins along with whatever it is you're doing to him. The ability to shut out the insanity of the past hours is what he so desperately wants to cling to for as long as you allow him, even if the dawn will remind him of the horrid reality he's involuntarily become subject to live through now.

"You're making things so much better, Peach, you're so sweet, so fucking cute, so fucking good for me, do you even know for how long I've been dreaming of this?"

Eddie greedily pulls your face into his again, not even giving you a chance to reply and not nearly getting enough of your affection it seems with how fervently his tongue searches for yours.

A gentle collision of skin.

The soft whimpers you let out only spur him on. You not backing away from him, staying with him, letting him be this close to you?

You, the only constant source of consolation Eddie's ever really had.

Life changing.

Soft touches follow soft touches, your thumb traces his jaw repeatedly.

"You don't–", kiss, "for how long–", kiss, "I've been dreaming–", kiss, "of you as well", you breathe against him and Eddie thinks he might be about to resort to sniffling into your collar again with the amount of relief he is experiencing.

You'd let him.

"Yeah?", he presses his nose into your cheek with his eyes closed, smiling from ear to ear, relaxing his entire body into yours as you let him slide inbetween your legs.

"Yeah, you know how much of a sucker I am for peaches", you grin, another peck to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, your hips slowly finding a rhythm against his own.

Eddie groans at your allusion with a wide grin on his face (and the feeling of your warmth against his dick), before pressing his lips against yours again lovingly, "me too baby, me too."

–––

taglist (thought you might be interested): @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @analogkraken, @wroteclassicaly, @songforeddiemunson, @joejoequinnquinn, @somnambulic-thing, @trashmouth-richie, @eddddiemunson, @ceriseheaven, @userchai

comments, reblogs and other forms of affection towards the author are greatly appreciated thank youuuuu <3

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Gaiman. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Gaiman and Rob Wilkins which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’.

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different.

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

In 2024 on insta they said that it is in "complicated process of rights to stage Good Omens" and "We appreciate your support and patience of the progress or seeming lack therof, of Good Omens the musical but we assure you, we will bring you the show in the next few years."

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

healing touch

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, catcalling

“you've changed.” rafe observes, cocking his head to the side as you don't respond to his arrival home, or even budge at his words. your eyes are stared straight forward, blank and almost hollow, so unlike the vibrancy rafe is used to seeing when he looks at you.

“baby.” rafes voice is softer now as he takes a step forward, not trying to startle you from your place perched on the countertop, sat with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin against your knees.

“darling.” rafe steps closer again, and your eyelashes finally flutter as you notice him, looking up without even a crack of a smile.

“what's wrong?” he asks, suppressing the urge to get angry, to lash out at whoever-whatever, he doesn't care, made you feel this way. rafe knows he needs to stay calm for you, placing his hands on your hips and looking you in your chocolate brown eyes.

“i decided to walk today to vikeys.” you tell rafe, swallowing harshly.

“uh huh.” rafe knows you usually go to a friend's house when he's gone for the day, giving yourself something to do and also a chance to catch up when you can't be with your boyfriend.

“and i walked past that construction site. you know the new apartments being put up.” you wait for rafe to nod before continuing. “the… the workers there were on their lunch break and they…”

“what did they do?” rafe asks, harsh tone slipping into his voice, but you know it's not meant for you.

“they were just whistling at me at first. i tried to walk by faster, i crossed the street, but they just got louder. started talking about- about what they'd do to me.”

you don't have to say anything more for rafe to understand. he carefully pulls your legs down and pulls you to the edge of the marble countertop so he can press you against his chest, knowing that what you need at the moment is his touch, his hold.

“i got to vickys as soon as i could. i just felt disgusting, gross. she let me shower there and borrow a pair of clothes before driving me back home.”

“ill make sure to thank vicky for helping out my girl.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “you could have called me though, baby.”

“i-i know.” you look up at rafe, tears welling up. “i just wasn't thinking. i felt like i was in another body almost.”

“and how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, his hands gently petting up and down your back.

“better now that you're here.” you sigh out. 

“did you eat?” rafe glances at the clock, knowing he's home a bit later than usual. 

when you shake your head no, rafe pauses for a moment to think. “how about we order pizza and relax and watch that new season of the tv show you've been hounding me to see?” rafe sees a little spark back in your eyes just from the mention of relaxing with him.

“and im taking the rest of the week of work.” rafe grabs his phone out of his pocket to order pizza before you can argue, but there is one last piece of work rafe has to do before he can be satisfied.

--

you hum along to the song as rafes hand grips your thigh, the other on the steering wheel as he brings you back home from the country club, having went “golfing” with him, which really just means driving the cart around while he plays.

“rafe-” you turn to look at him with confusion when he turns down the wrong street.

“just want you to see something.” he says, pulling up to the construction site you got cat called in front of, the words echoing through your mind until rafe reminds you of where you are and who you're with with a soft squeeze of your leg, snapping you out of it.

you look at the sign in front of the fence. cameron developments.

“you… you bought whole apartment complex?”

“and fired the entire previous crew. they won't find work in this town again, trust me.”

“oh, rafe.” you launch yourself over the center console, kissing him deeply as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“as much as i like kissing you, baby-” rafe says, mumbling against your lips. “how about we wait until we get home to continue this?”

you giggle and sit back on your seat as he speeds off.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry