#whoops tag vomiting

[faggottonystark]

mom i frew up😭

[serenanymph]

nine people I'd like to get to know better

thanks for the tag, @mister-writes! gonna tag uhhh @writingamongther0ses, @faytelumos, @halfbit, @digitalsatyr23, @thatndginger, @aziz-reads, @toribookworm22, @scribbling-stardust and @e-klair (no pressure ofc!!)

last song: baumkuchen end by eve!

fav color: honestly I like most shades of blue but there isn't one that stands out in particular

last tv show/movie: I just started watching the pjo tv series today! I've only watched two eps but it's really good so far

spicy/sweet/savory?: I'd say sweet and savory are pretty evenly tied, but I have a low spice tolerance

relationship status: single

last thing I googled: is this in general or for writing? because the last thing I googled in general was about a game I was downloading, but for writing I think it might've been something about crows. I've been reading a lot about crows recently

[torao-chan]

asDLKJGDLKFJG WAIT WAS THAT A THEORY THATS BEEN FORGOTTEN OVER THE YEARS ONLY I HAD?????!?! Just flicked through my ts theory tag and aslkjlgkdf it seems this is one of the (many) theories that I just revolved in my brain and word vomitted at my friend aside from vague posting about it in tags like once but... Like. Leander has a noted inferiority complex when it comes to Ais, to the point that it's in full-caps, sparkly, classic internet font letters in his quiz results, and for all that it's a cast of five with all of them foiling off each other in various ways, the foilage between Leander and Ais is well discussed and glaringly obvious (plus this is still rotating in my brain too). We know in canon Ais is a notably 'obvious leader', but he actively stats that his "gang took a walk", which could just be a nod to Princess and the soulless wandering around without saying such but... he's also noted as seeming lonely, even with his current situation. It just... makes sense to me, with the bad blood between them, that it's entirely feasible that in his business-major-esk move of 'take over lowtown -> conquor the senobium' Leander dethroned Ais and stole his gang asdlkjglkjfd

He’s a doctor with countless years to secure his finances and yet…

[arbitrarygreay]

Continuing to try to put into words why Sanctuary's episodes are markedly different from WH13 and Eureka's, despite the surface level genre show elements they all share. And I think that it comes down to the fact that Sanctuary doesn't have much of an episodic structural formula, as most of their episodes are high-concept and relatively more unified. Eureka (especially as it goes on) develops a strong episodic structural formula (science project goes wrong, the cast investigates, gets caught up in the effects, a red herring cause/solution, project goes catastrophic, Jack has to physically implement a solution while accounting for additional obstacles caused by the project intensifying). Even when it does have your usual high-concept premises (bodyswaps, characters get stuck to an emotion, etc.), they exist within the framework of this formula. Warehouse 13 does not adhere to a structural formula much. Every episode is an artifact hunt, but the shape of those investigations varies quite a bit from episode to episode. In addition, the artifact's effects don't always dominate the plotting, especially as the show often has multiple storylines going on. Per my previous post, this doesn't matter in the watching of the show because the cast chemistry carries the day, but it does mean that the show doesn't carry a legacy for its episodes as much (as opposed to individual sequences/scenes). And then, for both WH13 and Eureka, the episode plotting is mostly just a stage upon which the relationship stuff is played. Sanctuary, meanwhile, clearly doesn't have much in the way of planned long term thematic character arcs. At most, there's the slow increase in Will's leadership responsibilities. But there's no sense of "here is how the character should grow", especially not for Magnus, who self-actualized a long time before the show begins. Instead, each episode is a focused unified premise and tonal exercise, to which the characters are servicing. Character development is more of "here's another facet to the character the audience didn't know about before", rather than the traditional case of "and now the character changes because of the events of the episode", as is the case with Eureka and WH13. So, the episode plots aren't about facilitating a change in the characters, and it's more about looking at how they react to these specific situations. In Sanctuary, they pick a movie (a specific tone/atmosphere/setup) that they want to emulate, and then drop the main cast into that. "What does the character look like through e.g. a survival horror lens? How does the character act if they were in a film noir story?" One might also compare this to fanfiction that deliberately does not seek to emulate the source material. "Sanctuary is like browsing FIMFiction" the galaxy brain take lmao. Sanctuary also likes doing extreme focus on 1-2 characters going through an intense gauntlet (and if the other characters show up in the episode at all, only on the fringes). Isolated character showcases. Quite striking. They strip away any elements that would distract from the premise they are focused on. (Obviously Eureka and WH13 have examples of this kind of thing, but the point is that it's very noticeable when they do it, as it breaks from their usual formula/tone.) Something that really sticks in my mind is how Sanctuary aired a found-footage episode (S01E11 Instinct) in 2008, while Dr. Who wouldn't get around to theirs (S09E09 Sleep No More) until 2015.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Better late than never

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, May 2025 edition Prompt: Delay, 408 words Rated: G Tags: Future fic; Reunions; Forced proximity; Secret identity; Second chances Notes: I spent more time picking Eddie's new name than actually writing this, whelp ����

Steve never thought that his infamous shoulder check would come in handy in the New York metro of all places. But this is the first train to roll into the station after an hour of tinny speaker announcements about technical issues and delays, and he's not waiting for the next one. He manages to get himself right in front of a door, smug satisfaction flooding him as it opens before him. Then, the crowd behind him starts pushing, and his grin turns into a startled yelp. 

He stumbles into the crammed cart, trips over his own feet, and is only saved from a rendevous with the sticky floor by clinging to the first person in his way. His face is squashed against a worn leather jacket and his breath wheezes out of him with a plainly undignified oomph sound. An arm wraps around his waist to steady him.

“Whoops,” says a voice somewhere by his ear, sending a shock of vibrations down his spine. Or maybe that's the train rumbling into motion. “Gotcha, big boy.” 

Steve freezes.

When he manages to lift his head, the eyes looking back at him are as wide and shocked as his own. Wide and shocked and dark brown and hauntingly familiar. 

“Ed-” he blurts. Bites down on his own tongue.

Eddie Munson is dead. Has been for twelve years. He died on March 27th 1986, in the earthquake that destroyed half of Hawkins.

It was for the best, the FBI told them, if this was the story they all stuck to. It was for the best if nobody knew where they had taken him. 

And now he's here, in a crowded subway cart that smells of sweat and beer and vomit, with a ratty guitar case slung over his shoulder and one arm around Steve’s waist. His lips tug up into a dimpled smile. 

“Jake.” 

Steve blinks. “Huh?” 

The man throws back his head and barks a laugh, dark curls spilling all around his face. 

“My name. Jake Vaughan, pleased to meet you. Do I remind you of someone?” 

He winks. Steve feels himself blush. 

“Uh- … yeah. You could say that. Someone I wish I’d have known a lot better.” 

The man who used to be Eddie smiles and leans close to his ear, just as the train pulls into the next station. 

“Let's grab a coffee? I know a great spot nearby, and I’d love to hear all about it.” 

More microfics

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

i’ve got you

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.

warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack

a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!

also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.

Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.

It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.

At least, not until tonight.

Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.

"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."

You really oughtta live a little sometime.

His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.

Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.

She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.

Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.

"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.

Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.

"Yo, Y/N/N!"

Too late.

JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.

"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.

"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"

"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.

"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."

JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.

"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"

Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.

"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"

"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.

"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she did.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.

Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.

Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.

"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."

Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all in one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."

"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.

"You didn't force me."

"Well, I might as well have."

"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.

"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.

"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."

"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"

Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."

"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."

"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"

"You’re gonna stay?'

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.

"I guess . . ." He looked down at his sister with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."

Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."

"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."

Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."

"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."

Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.

Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.

・❥・

Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know what, Jay? I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."

JJ smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (3) (teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Teaser wc: 391 Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, more in the official posting...

Release date: April 6th, 2024 at 6pm EST

masterlist || playlist

Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.

“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 

I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”

He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”

The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”

“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”

I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”

Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 

Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 

“When is later?”

I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.

“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

Let me know if you want to be added/deleted from the taglist. -Lex

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

The Bite

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 5K

warning: cursing, vomit mention, steve being hard on himself. yall im terrible at these.

summary: are we out of the woods?

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

ONE MORE CHAPTER THIS SEASON!!!!!!

@alecmores​ i threaten them sometimes ( dont worry)

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter  next chapter

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Realizing that your group wouldn’t be able to outrun the Russians, Dustin snagged one of their transport cars. And with you being a little inebriated, you were thrown in the back with Robin and Steve giggling their asses off while Dustin drove shakily with Erica in the passenger seat.

“Jesus, slow down!” Steve yelled as he bumped into the paneling, a hand keeping him upright. You leaned your head against his shoulder with your eyes closed trying to quell the hurricane storming your head.

“Yeah, what is this, like, the Indy 500?” Robin slurred. “It’s the Indy 300,” Steve corrected. Though Robin was insisting she was correct, “No dingus, it’s 500!” “It’s 300!”

“Shut up!” A harsh snap of your mouth. They were quiet for a moment and you were ready to apologize when Robin said, “Let’s say a million.” And they were back to laughing as idiots.

You weren’t sure how fast Dustin was driving this tiny truck or what its top speed could hit, but you heard Erica yell his name and suddenly the car lurched forward flinging you into Steve and some of the car. Everyone groaned from the sudden impact. “You guys alright back there?” Dustin turned in his seat as he asked. More groaning was his answer.

The door opened with Erica and Dustin waving their arms. “Come on. We gotta go, now.” “Come on! Get out!” “Let’s go!”

“Geez! Can we stop yelling?” Pushing yourself up and grabbing at Steve and Robin to pull them forward. “A little help would be nice.” Irritated that they were yelling but not helping with dragging them out.

You stumbled on your feet, Steve tripping to the ground after you and Robin leaning against the truck. You pulled Steve up and threw one arm over your shoulder to help carry some of his weight. “This sucks,” He whined. “I know, baby. I know.” Arm wrapped behind his waist and moved into the elevator.

Once everyone was in, Dustin swiped the keycard and pressed the buttons. The door closed and hummed to life as it hit speed going up. Steve and Robin were acting like unsupervised children, whooping and hollering giddy. Steve standing on a red moving cart with Robin pushing it side to side. “Hey! You look like you’re surfing!” “Surfing! Yeah!”

You stood beside Erica as both of you plus Dustin just watched them. “They seem drunk?” Erica noted. “Why would they be drunk? (Y/n)’s not drunk and she was in the same room as them.” You stayed quiet. You didn’t feel drunk, you were feeling high and you can tell it was slowly wearing off. 

You stepped forward when Robin jerked the cart the wrong way and Steve fell off causing him to roll into some boxes. She laughed and yelled, “Wipeout!” And giggled like a maniac.

Both you and Dustin rush to Steve’s aid. You check over his head for any bumps, smoothing his hair back and Dustin rests his palm on his sweaty skin. “He’s burning up.” “You’re burning up,” Steve mimics.

“Hold him down.” “What?” Confused by Dustin’s request. “Hold him down!” He repeated as his fingers moved to Steve’s eye. “One sec, one sec, one sec. Steve, Steve.” You held his wrist down, but he still was a lot stronger than you, trying to push away your grip. “God, no.” 

“Stevie, it’s- it’s okay.” Hoping to calm him down. He still wiggled against your hold as Dustin peeled his lids apart and you saw how blow his pupil was. “His pupil is super dilated,” Reporting the issue to Erica. “Maybe he’s drugged.”

You released his wrist to hold his cheeks. “Stevie-” He booped the tip of your nose with a finger, lips pulled into a wide smile. He did the same to Dustin as he snapped his finger at attention. “Steve, are you drugged?” Steve scoffed, “How many times, dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Poking a finger at Dustin’s cheek.

“This isn’t funny, okay? I need to know what they did to you.” Dustin continued trying to get a straight answer. Steve only chuckled and booped his nose again, head rolling around in your hold. His red eyes stared at you before mumbling, “Pretty.”

“(Y/n), what did they give to them? To you?” Seeing as your coherent understanding of the severity of the situation. The pad of your thumb rubbed delicately at the swollen skin of Steve’s eye, “They- They injected us with- with something. All the same thing, but I- I feel different.”

“Are they gonna die on us?”

“We all die, my strange little child friend.” You looked over your shoulder to Robin who sat down and twirled her hair. Her bleary bloodshot eyes and dazed smile, followed by her ominous words brought shivers up your spine. “It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Furrowed brows pointed to Dustin. “They’re gonna be looking for us up there, so I need you to tell me where you parked your car.” He turned to Steve looking for an answer.

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” “I would kill for a hot dog on the stick.” Robin leaned her head back with her statement. Steve just whistled in agreement.

“Once we are safe, all the hot dogs on the sticks you want. Just tell us where the car is parked, Stevie.” Hoping his brain would start functioning correctly instead of shorting out. His puppy dog eyes rounded on you, and you knew that was a sign he did something bad.

“Uh-oh.” He sounded like a child. “Uh-oh?” Dustin leaned in.

“The car’s off the board. They took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys.” Hands grabbing at his empty short pockets. “Like, forever ago.” His bad news was punctuated with more squeaky laughter. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You closed your eyes and dropped your head just a bit. Of course, they took his keys. Clammy fingers tingle your cheeks and brows, sweeping to your ears. Heading tilting up just a bit to look through your lashes and see Steve pouting at you. His long fingers played with the loose, sweaty front pieces of your hair while you tucked some of his light parts behind his ear.

“Are you mad?” A deep and quiet inquiry. You were quiet, thinking over which answer is best for this moment. Your thumb scratched over the growing stubble from his last shave as you looked back to his swollen and bloodshot eye. It made you sting with the knowing sign of tears, you were mad, you had a right to be mad when no one wanted to listen to any of your thoughts about this whole thing. But right now, wasn’t the time to blow up in his face again, you were mad and will wait to have a collected conversation when the both of you are home.

So you tucked your bottom lip under your top teeth as you shook your head, “No, no.” Stroking more of his hair, “I’m not mad, just tired.” Steve stared at you, his hands had slipped to sit on your thighs and he squeezed just a bit. He didn’t look too convinced, but it didn’t matter.

“Come on,” Letting go of his face to grab his hands, “Let’s get up. Almost there.” You had to tug most of his heavyweight forward. He was more stable on his feet now, swaying for just a moment but then signing a thumbs up with a dopey smile.

“Okay, when we get out there we need to figure out a plan home.” Dustin stood in front of the door and he had his hands sitting on his hips. “(Y/n), why don’t you call your house and see if anyone’s there? Since no one was answering my transmission…”

“We were underground, there was no signal where the elevator was. Besides you nerds always have those things on, it gets annoying.” Erica stated to Dustin. He just rolled his eyes.

The elevator came to a stop with a jolt then the doors opened. You felt like a giant weight leaving your shoulders knowing you were back in a public space, out in the open air. Dustin and Erica walked forward and they were quiet, as were you. Robin and Steve were the last to exit and their voices filled the night.

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed. “Oh, my God, that tastes so good. Ah!” You turned around just as Robin stuck her tongue out. “Steve, can you taste the air?” They were behaving like children experiencing their first winter snowfall. “I taste it! I taste it!”

You ignored their antics when you heard the gate opening and you saw two guards, dressed black grabbing their guns. Dustin and Erica backtracked for Steve and Robin while you ran to open the door. “Okay, okay, okay! Woo!” Robin is still high off her ass while she and Erica run into the service tunnel. “Why are we running?” Steve asked Dustin as they passed you. You yanked the door shut as you followed behind, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum flooring.

“Where are we going?” Huffing breaths hoping Dustin had a plan since he knew this space better than you.

You didn’t get an answer until Dustin stopped at one door and slowly opened it. Robin and Steve swayed on their feet and giggled quietly. You saw Dustin look left to right before calling the all-clear. One by one in a line. Dustin, Erica, Robin, and Steve with you last sticking close to the dark purple walls, rushing over the patterned carpet. Rounding a corner and seeing the Back to the Future poster, you knew now. Dustin led you to the movies, a crowded spot to hide in.

“Steve- Steve, no that’s! Ugh!” Trying to push your boyfriend along as he scrambled to grab a trashed bag of popcorn. He just hummed pleasantly.

Dustin threw the double doors open wide and you were greeted by the voices of Doc and Marty. “Oh! What did I tell you?! Eighty-eight miles per hour!” Dustin led your group to the front row where there were a few open spots.

He pointed a stern finger at Robin and Steve, “You two sit here.” They complained as they slumped down. “Dude, these seats blow,” Steve spoke around his trash food. “Then don’t watch the movie.” You could tell he was getting tired of babysitting them, a taste of his own medicine.

“We wanna watch it,” Robin argued. “Then watch it!” Dustin raised his voice loudly causing a man in the row behind to shush them, Robin and Steve shushing back.

“Whatever you do, don’t…go…anywhere.” Making sure they got the message. Steve teased back, “Fine, dad.” And Robin snickered at the joke. Dustin didn’t say another word as he and Erica crouched passed people to the other end of the row.

Not thinking anyone was planning to leave during the movie, you sat on the last step and then leaned against Steve’s chair. You winced while wrapping your left arm over your stomach, your adrenaline wearing off causing the aching from your beatings. The booming film score pounded in your head with the bright screen hurting your eyes. Your limbs felt so heavy, that feeling when your body is naturally shutting down for sleep or accidentally taking a big hit of weed.

So before you could force yourself to stay awake and alert, you were knocked out.

-

Loud commotion and flashing lights behind your lids were your greetings as you were being rudely shaken awake. You were groaning and ready to complain towards Steve, thinking you were home and in bed. But instead of home it was the movie theater and instead of it being Steve shaking you, it was Dustin with Erica just over his shoulder. They both shared frantic expressions and when you took note of the two empty chairs you already knew what his question was gonna be. “Where are they?”

You could only open and close your mouth like a goldfish before you abruptly stood from the step and rushed out of the room with the kids behind you. “Okay, let’s split up. There aren’t many options in and out of the closed mall.”

Your sweep of the theater was quick, they weren’t anywhere. And you should be able to spot them easily, they’re wearing sailor outfits in a sea of normal attire. You walked through the exit and into the mall, hands on hips as you scanned possible hiding spots. A hearty sigh while leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Little white dots and artificial stars in the brick building beamed down. “Wow…” The longer you stare the brighter they get, starting to twirl into a cyclone of heavenly light that was making you queasy and dizzy. “Oh, wow…”

Feet sprinted you to the nearest women’s restroom. You were too preoccupied with not throwing up on the floor that you missed the shocked then concerned looks of Robin and Steve. You made it to the third stall and hurled small chunks into the toilet, barely any food in your system at this time it was practically only liquid and dry heaving. Small shakes set into your shoulders as tiny tears stuck to your lashes, abdomen doing mini crunches with your heavy huffing. A helping hand held your hair away from potential damage and their warmth set into your back as they rubbed up and down, side to side, or just in an endless circle.

“Oh, baby.” Your Steve came to your rescue. “It’s okay, just get it out.”

A whimper from your slick lips, “Stevie…” You weren’t sure why you were calling out to him or what you had to say to him. Maybe just wanting to say his name and have him respond, which he did easily. “I’m right here, baby. Right here.” And he continued to rub your back until you were sure everything was gone and you flushed it away.

Steve’s arms wrapped over your stomach and with a gentle tug pulled you against his chest. His chin sat on your shoulder and he tucked his face into your neck, lashes fluttering your pulse point. Your eyes closed in contentment with a pinch to the front of your brow, hands seeking Steve’s on your body, holding onto them like your life depends on it. A clownish frown downturned your lips as you tried your hardest to keep crying at bay, okay with the baby drops falling here and there on your oily skin. 

“Is she okay?” Robin’s rough voice filled the space. Steve moved his head and you copied the action so you could see eye to eye. His eyes swam with such sorrow and pain it made you feel sick again. He reached a tentative hand out, hesitating before brushing the pad of his thumb over your jaw and cheeks. You assumed dark bruises were slowly blooming on your skin after this past hour or two. He then took his pointer finger and softly ran it on the bridge of your nose, flinching at the feather touch.

“No… she’s not.” A delayed reply for Robin and almost a defeated sigh from him. “Baby, oh my baby. I’m sorry.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. He saw them earlier in the night, he was still sober when you reentered the room, but looking at them with just a few inches of space apart…

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Voice cracked on the third sorry, his hands couldn’t keep still. Going to your cheeks then shifting to your shoulders then finding their new spot on your cracked hands. Steve’s fingers slotted through the in-betweens, waffling your hands tight as he pressed kiss after kiss to the tops.

“I couldn’t protect you. I’m a shitty boyfriend.” His eyes are hidden from view by his diary hair. You gasped at his words, “Steven Harrington, don’t ever call yourself a shitty boyfriend. Especially in front of me.”

You shook his hands off and cupped his cheeks to push his head up. He looked tired, defeated and you couldn’t stand the sight of the boy in front of you. You leaned in as you moved his head forward just a bit, a firm kiss pressed to his forehead. Trying to convey too many words into a simple action.

You pulled back and gazed intently into his heavy eyes, “Steve, it was a terrible situation that we were able to get out safely. The kids are unharmed and the drug is out of our system, it’s fine now.”

He circled your wrist, “If we just-” You stopped him with a kiss, not caring that both of you would have a vomiting mouth, just need him to pour your love into him.  A kiss that was nothing like the one from earlier in the day or your first. It was one where either or both of you are tired from the day, your body giving out the second it hits the mattress, contemplating if sleeping in your day clothes is worth the discomfort and if you’re okay with a pimple popping up in a day from not doing your skincare. How your hands still seek each other out in your drunk-sleepy state, Steve still managing to cage you into his chest with his nose in your hair and hand at your hip. Having a mumbled pillow talk about your day if the two of you weren’t attached to the hip that day, puffs of air from noses in exchange for belly laughs. It was a kiss that was being done blind, both eyes closed and searching out the bullseye in the dark even though the map was memorized. Slow, simple, something grounding and normal; just a firm pressing of lips that followed up with a tiny rhythm before it was enough to satiate you for the night.

You ignore the dull throb from your nose, taking care of Steve was more important. “Let’s just wait until we’re home, clean and in bed, before sorting everything out. It can wait a little longer.” Reassuring him, letting him know that you’re not as mad as earlier, but you have more words to speak. He nodded his head and whispered, “Okay,” Then pressed kisses to both of your palms.

The neutral bubble popped with the banging sound of the door. You both turned to see Dustin and Erica at the threshold, Robin behind them, must have slipped out sometime after she spoke. You could tell Dustin was completely exasperated with all three of you for running off and it was confirmed with his firm, “What the hell, guys?”

-

With everyone sober and coherent Dustin worked on a plan to get out unnoticed. Trying to find different modes of transportation to leave the mall behind since Steve was the only one with a car, and he was against the idea of breaking into his own BMW.

“Well, the movie should be over by now. We just blend into the crowd, leave the mall, and… I don’t know, hitchhike home.” Robin scratched her head as she paced.

Erica caught an attitude, “You want to walk…home? Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Arms crossed as she popped a hip.

“Well the buses don’t run this late and Robin has a bike, but Steve always drives her or us home when it’s this late. And he isn’t willing to sacrifice a window-“ Steve cut you off at your claim. “I don’t have the money to fix a window.” “I could talk to Eddie-“ He scoffs, “Munson, yeah, I'm good.” You weren’t sure why this was a sudden fight and it was making you sad and angry again.

“Guys!” Dustin yelled before your argument could be blown out of proportion. “We’re gonna get out of the mall with the crowd and hit the road. End of discussion.”

A sigh was all you gave as Dustin went to the door and took peeks into the lobby. You caught Robin’s eye and she scrunched her brows with a meek jerk of her chin, a silent ‘What the hell was that?’ and you just shook your head, pushing it away as if it wasn’t important.

With everyone walking to the door, Steve tugged at your belt loops to keep you back. You were prepared to brush Steve off, but he spoke first with a mumbled, “I’m sorry. I don’t want a fight.” You thought about just brushing him off, but you didn’t want a fight either and both of you are just cranky at this point. “I know, Stevie. We’re just tired.” Flashing him a simple smile as he squeezed your left hand.

“Lovebirds, come on.” Robin called. Dustin’s head was poking through the opening and he held a hand up, “And…blend.” They moved forward, Steve linking your hands and pulling you behind him.

Your group keeps pace with the people chatting about the movie, Steve keeping his head down and your hands clasped. “Well, shit, that worked,” Erica commented to Dustin. “Of course, it worked. Now we just have to get out of this place  and home sweet home, here we come.”

“Uh, Dustin?” “What?” Steve groaned a bit, “Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.” “Why?”

Steve licked his lips, “Well, I might’ve told them your full name.” Dustin looked over his shoulder, shocked. “What is wrong with you?”

You came to Steve's defense, “He was drugged. He has loose lips when intoxicated.” You could tell Steve was gonna say something when Dustin just asked, “So?” That made Steve stutter, “So?”

“So, you resist. You tough it out. You tough it out like a man.” Dustin acting like he was the one in that scary room with unhinged Russians ready to kill him, instead of the vents snooping around. Steve scoffed, “Oh, yeah, it’s easy for you to say.”

“Guys?” A single word from Robin. All your eyes clocked on the two men from outside asking and checking IDs. You all stopped and everyone parted to the sides, Steve pulling you closer. “Abort,” Dustin declared. The men spotted your group and started forward. “Abort. Abort.” Dustin enforced as he made sure everyone turned around and pushed through the crowd.

With your hand still in Steve’s, he made sure you didn’t get lost. Feet were halted at the escalators with ropes closing off the stairs. You looked over your shoulder and saw how they were getting closer, so just told Robin to slide down the middle. One by one you each went down, Robin, Dustin, Erica, you then Steve following up the rear.

There was enough time to find a hiding spot the top level filtered out and the Russians took a long way down to the bottom level. Dustin pointed all of you in the direction of the food court and he jumped over the Great Cookie counter. You gave Erica a boost over as Robin crawled on the red countertop, Steve held your hips as he pushed you forward, and you dropped to the floor with him beside you. 

“What do we do?” Erica whispered. Her small chest panting. You weren’t sure if there was a way out, you could hear movement, but it sounded like more than the two you saw so they brought backup and you knew they had guns. If you could go through the back maybe, but still, you were easily outnumbered and overpowered.

As your safety blanket, you intertwined your hand with Steve’s and held it close to your racing heart while holding your breath. Eyes closed and speaking to the angels in your head, wishing for any sign of help coming to your aid.

A car alarm starts wailing and it brings all of you to gasp quietly. You didn’t dare look over the counter suspecting it was a trap. The alarm kept blaring and then you heard a loud crash combined with people groaning. When the alarm stopped and felt like the mall was silent all of you slowly pushed off the floor and over the counter. Russians lay on the floor with blood bleeding from wounds and a promotional car was damaged on its side where it was pressed into the Hot Dog on a Stick counter.

Hearing squeaking footsteps all of you looked to the upper level and hidden in the neon glow of store lights, the kids with Jonathan and Nancy stared from above. A wet hiccup of happiness at seeing your brothers safe and alive, as everyone headed to the closed escalator and climbed down. You were the first to rush over the counter and meet them halfway.

Mike had one of El’s arms over his shoulder as she limped with him towards Dustin who shouted as he laughed, “You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!”

Jonathan and Will both rushed at you and it made you stumble back from their fast impact. It still shocked you that Will was practically the same height as Jonathan, both their chins digging into your shoulders with one arm behind your back. Your arms were thrown over their shoulders and your palms held the back of their heads, tears splashing your cheeks and shuddery breaths as you composed yourself.

“Oh, I’m so happy you're safe. I was so worried.” Petting the back of their heads to calm your shakes. “Where have you been? I just assumed you were at Steve’s.” Jonathan pulled his head away causing your hand to fall to his shoulder. His mouth dropped a bit, his eyes taking notice of your blood and bruises, “What happened?”

“Russians.” Jonathan and Will shared confused and worried expressions at your word. “I’m guessing something equally as bad has been happening above the surface since El’s limping.”

“Yeah, it’s bad. As in bad bad.” Will widened his eyes, not going into detail on what the bad bad was. You didn’t care, you were just happy your brothers were safe and within arms reach. Jonathan looked over your shoulder and his expression hardened, “Hey, Harrington. Wanna tell me why my sister looks to be in a similar state as you? Huh?”

Turning around you saw a sheepish Steve standing close, his hands messing with the bottom of his shirt. He licked his lip and looked at his shoes before backing up, “It’s- It’s my fault. I- I couldn’t…I didn’t listen. Shit, I brought a freaking ten-year-old into this when she didn’t even know. I’m- I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Damn right, Harrington.” “Jonathan, stop!” Automatic backhand to his head, once again mad that Steve and someone were calling him names. They needed relationship therapy at this point.

“Yeah, sorry to interrupt the sweet reunions. But I don’t understand what happened to that car.” Robin, along with Erica were the only ones out of the loop on El and her powers. Not wanting Robin mixed into this has finally crossed its line, there’s no going back after tonight. “El has powers,” Dustin threw a thumb at the quiet girl. 

Robin stuttered, “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“Superpowers. She threw it with her mind. C’mon, catch up.” Steve acting like this wouldn’t be mind-blowing news to Robin who knew nothing about the dangers of Hawkins. Erica pointed at her with new clarity, “That’s El?” Never actually met her, but possibly heard about her from Lucas.

“Who’s El?” Poor Robin. You were gonna point her out when Nancy spoke, in a tone you took a bit harshly. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Again you were gonna introduce her, but Jonathan easily said, “Robin. (Y/n)’s friend.” “And a coworker at Scoops with us.” Connecting her to Steve.

“She cracked the top secret code.” Dustin awarded her. “Yeah, which is how we found out about the Russians. And why we look like shit by the way.” Steve’s sarcasm winning out.

“Wait, seriously? Those were Russians?” Max blurted in confusion. “Some of them,” Erica looked back at them with indifference on her face. “What are you talking about?” Lucas persisted.

“Didn’t you hear our code red?” Dustin questioned. “Yeah. Couldn’t understand what you were saying,” Mike noted. Dustin groaned, “Goddam low battery.”

“How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery?” And you couldn’t help but to bite back the little grin at Steve acting like such a big brother towards Dustin. “Well, everything worked out, didn’t it?” It reminded you of times when Will was just a baby, you and Jonathan little toddlers.

“Worked out? We almost died.” Erica was not happy about Dustin’s look at the situation. “Yeah, but we didn’t, did we?” He sees the glass half-full side. “It was pretty damn close,” Steve added his two cents.

Everyone was busy arguing about the Russians and the gate. You took the time to look at each kid to check them over for any damage done, everyone looking to be in perfect condition. When you didn’t spot El beside Mike you leaned past Steve to see her in front of the next store, her steps slow and body hunched in. You walked away from the group and reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, “El? Sweetie?” Her hands reached up to hold her ears and she turned slowly for you to see the dark red blood sliding down her nostrils, hitting her top lip. Her knees buckled and she fell like a sack of flour.

“El! El? El!” Grabbing her waist quickly to stop her fall. You placed her gently on the ground as everyone crowded around. “What’s wrong with her?” Erica quietly asked.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked El. Needing to find the root of her problem. She cried, “My leg. My leg.”

Nancy pulled her pants up and Jonathan unwrapped a bloody bandage around her calf. Her skin was stained red, almost orange in the fluorescent glow, with a swollen spot on the top. You held a hand to your mouth, the injury making you feel queasy just looking at it. And to top it off, something was crawling beneath the skin.

“Oh, God.” Muffled into your palm.

El continued to wail and groan, some tears slipping from the corners of her eyes and falling into her hair. “El! El, are you okay?” Mike shook her shoulders as he leaned over her. Everyone was worried and getting emotional, not knowing what was happening and the next course of action to take.

El screamed at the top of her lungs.

-

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*STRIKED MEANS TUMBLR CANT FIND YOU*

[to-thelakes]

built to fall (5)

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

series summary; after having a rough month, the feelings that you had been harbouring for your co-worker finally come to the surface

series warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, smut (later on), mutual pining, discussions of mental health, reader gets drunk, vomiting, suggestive themes, sexual tension, cases that the bau work are also mentioned so the usual warnings for the show apply

warnings for this part; MDNI (minors do not interact) sexual content, fluff, tired reader, tired team, jj being nosy (we love her), smut, fingering, squirting, praise kink, soft!dom luke, self-indulgent smut, needy reader

notes; okay, hello my lovelies, i'm literally just dropping this and then crawling back into my hole because i woke up feeling atrociously tired and worse than i have since i got the flu in december, i will save you from the grim details but safe to say, i'm exhausted, but i gave this a little edit this morning and it's literally just self-indulgent smut and like just a little hint of what is gonna come for these two, we get a very very small smidge of luke worshipping reader hehe. like this is written entirely to my taste so whoops but anyway, i hope you enjoy <3

tags; @smurfenijsje12 @xoxomoonlightbabe

ao3 / masterlist

previous chapter

You were the last one to arriveto the jet after you had to stop off at your apartment to get a to-go bag together. You had rushed around like a headless chicken, regretting not being more prepared for this but it served as a good distraction from the wetness between your legs. 

By the time that you had clambered aboard the jet and dropped into the seat beside Emily, you had completely forgotten about the ache that Luke had left behind. Then when Emily began to talk you through the case, any arousal that still lingered was squashed. It was hard to think about how much you needed Luke when you were staring at pictures of mangled corpses. Really, your job was the biggest buzzkill.

Garcia popped up on the scene as the jet took off and the usual routine ensued. You discussed the case and came up with any preliminary theories before Emily told you where all of you needed to go when you landed. And you weren’t entirely sure if it was a curse or a blessing that she sent you and Luke to assess the latest crime scene.

Part of you was glad to spend the time with Luke but the other part of you didn’t want to have to try and keep your composure around him because you knew that would basically be impossible. 

However, you kept your mouth shut and the team then split off to do their own private theorizing and reading of the case file or just take a short nap before you landed. That meant that everyone was sufficiently distracted enough for JJ to quiz you about your late appearance and what Garcia had told her about you being at Luke’s.

“You got something you wanna tell me?” JJ asked, cocking an eyebrow with a wry grin on her face. You looked up from the casefile, furrowing your eyebrows as you ran through every possible scenario that she could be talking about. At first you assumed it was something about the case but then you caught how her eyes drifted to the mark on your neck.

The mark that you had forgotten Luke had left on you.

“I stayed at his place,” You shrugged, looking back down at your casefile. You wanted to talk to JJ about it but also you didn’t want the entire team knowing your business. You and Luke had just spent the weekend together and you hadn’t even discussed what the two of you were. For now, it was simply the two of you enjoying each other’s company in a less than conventional way.

“You just stayed over?” She asked. You glanced around and noticed how Luke’s gaze had lifted. He had clearly caught on to you and JJ’s whispering and you sent him a smile but that just made him lift an eyebrow.

“Yeah, stayed over, met Roxy, we went on a few walks and he cooked for me,” You forced your gaze away from the man in question to look at the blonde in front of you, “His cooking isn’t as bad as you’d think.” You had to bite back the smile that spread across your face. JJ narrowed her eyes before she nodded her head, “And we obviously kissed,” You said, lowering your voice even more. JJ grinned.

“Just kissed?” She asked and you nodded your head.

“We got… interrupted,” You mumbled as you stared down at the case file. JJ couldn’t help the choked laugh that escaped her lips.

“What? By Garcia?” She asked, baffled. You nodded your head.

“Duty calls,” You mumbled. JJ bit her lip, hiding her amusement as she glanced over at Luke. He had returned back to his work, reading through the file and pretending like he wasn’t listening to the two of you gossip.

“No wonder he seems so frustrated,” JJ commented. Your head snapped up and you stared at her. She was quick to throw her hands up defensively, “I’m just saying what I see.” You scoffed and looked back down at your case file.

“He at least got a release,” You muttered under your breath but JJ caught it. Her gaze flicked to Luke and then back to you before she felt herself internally cringe at the image that popped into her head. But she didn’t bother to say anything else, it was a conversation for another time when the two of you were alone and not looking at mangled corpses.

-

To put it simply, this case was exhausting. The team had been up for most of the night, investigating and setting up with the local PD. You and Luke had checked out the scene and gathered everything you could about the sadistic killer. But then you had returned back to the station where you settled in for the next few hours. It was a long night and your investigation dragged out long past the rise of the sun.

By the time that night fell again, the team was exhausted and had hit a brick wall in the profile. It was clear that nobody was really feeling their best so Emily ordered everyone to head back to the hotel and get some rest so they could take another crack at the case the next day. You were glad of the break. The exhaustion had made you feel brain-dead and you needed to switch your brain off for a few hours.

You, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the cars back to the hotel and when the two women had taken off to their rooms, Luke walked you to yours. It was the gentleman thing to do - he had said - which just made you laugh. Both of you were exhausted and you couldn’t help giggle at him. You also knew that he wasn’t just being a gentleman.

He had dropped his bag into your room earlier so you didn’t even bother discussing whether Luke would stay with you. He was going to and he let you tug him inside once you had slipped into the room.

“I feel like my brain is melting out of my skull,” You muttered as you closed the door behind the two of you. Luke walked over to his to-go bag, an amused chuckle escaping his lip at your comment. You watched him from the bedroom door, a smile spreading across your face. He looked so cute. He was clearly just as tired as you were but he was keeping a brave face. You assumed that he was probably used to not sleeping amazing. 

But you wanted him to sleep well tonight. So you wandered over to him and leant up to press a kiss to his lips. He smiled down at you before he pecked your lips again. Then he told you to get ready for bed. So, the two of you switched into your pajamas and you curled up on the bed. Luke was still in the bathroom as you buried your face in the pillow.

Now that you were alone with Luke again, that familiar ache had reappeared between your legs. It was really not the time and you just wanted to sleep but seeing him shirtless and looking so domestic as you brushed your teeth together had you reminded of the weekend. The way he held you, kissed you and his moans and whines and the way that he had used you for his own release. It had all been so much in the best way and the memories were making you want him so bad but you were on a case, you couldn’t do it now. As much as you wanted to.

“Everything okay?” Luke’s voice brought you from your spiraling thoughts. You nodded, sending him a slightly fake smile before you shuffled to the side on the bed so that he could get in beside you. You hadn’t even realized that your thighs were squeezing together to get some sort of relief until you had to shuffle. The ache was worse now. 

Once he was comfortably under the covers, you moved towards him, ignoring the wetness in your panties in favor of snuggling up to him. His arm wrapped around your back, tugging you closer and you settled down, letting your eyes fall closed.

“Luke,” You muttered after a moment. He tilted his head down as you looked up, meeting your gaze, “I didn’t cross a line when we got called in, did I?” You asked softly. You would have asked him earlier but between the case and the rush to get to the jet, you hadn’t really got a chance to check in with him.

“No.” He said firmly. You nodded and rested your forehead back against his chest, “Just wish I could have repaid the favour,” He mumbled. You shrugged,

“You’ll just have to make up for it when we’re home,” You retorted. He let out a ‘mhm’ of agreement but his mind seemed distracted. You glanced up at him, feeling a sudden change in how he was holding onto you, “What’s wrong?” You asked quickly. He looked down at you, a devious look in his eyes.

“I want to fuck you in my own bed but I can still repay the favour in a different way,” He said as he moved his hand to cup your jaw. Your eyes fell closed, the thought of him finally giving you the release that you desperately craved just making you wetter, “And it might help you sleep a little better. I can feel how tense you are, carina,” He whispered in your ear. You bit your lip before you forced your eyes back open, looking at him.

“Please,” You whispered softly. He grinned and then he moved to sit up, his back against the headboard. He tugged you between his legs, your back pressed against his front and your legs hooked over his, spread out for him. Your head moved to rest back but the tension in your shoulders was still present. He leant down and slowly began to kiss against your neck, hoping that the soft kisses would relax you a little.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He asked, his voice low in your ear. His hands were resting against your thighs, open for you to take. You bit your lip before you shifted your hand to grab his, slipping it under your pajama shirt. His hand engulfed your tit and he gently squeezed it, “Just there?” He asked, teasing a little. You shook your head and took his other hand, slipping it under the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear. His finger nudged your clit as you guided him to your slit and you twitched against him, “Fuck,” He breathed out. Your hand slipped away from him as his fingers began to move of their own accord.

He ran his fingers through your wetness, collecting it between his fingers before he dragged the fingertips up to your clit. He circled the bud and you let out a breathy whine. Your head fell back against him, your shoulders relaxing.

“Good girl,” He whispered into your ear as he began to move his fingers into a steady circle over your clit. It was a little slower than what you usually did to get yourself off but the slow build up of pleasure was tantalizing. He then shifted his hand against your tit to gently pinch your nipple. You let out a shaky breath, eyes falling closed as he moved, “Tell me if it’s too much,” He said after a beat. You nodded your head vehemently.

“It’s good, it’s so good,” You whimpered as he continued his movements on your clit. His head moved down to press a kiss to your hair before he shifted. His hand that had been pinching and playing with your nipple, trailed across your stomach and down to the waistband of your pants.

“I wanna take these off,” He said as he fiddled with the waistband. His movements on your clit hadn’t let up and the build-up was making you squirm. Part of you wanted him to go faster though. You knew that if he just went a little faster, you’d get that release you’d been craving, “Carina,” He whispered against your ear and you groaned softly, tilting your head up. You forced your eyes back open but they were half-lidded as he looked at you.

“Go a little faster, please,” You begged. It quickly became clear to him that you hadn’t comprehended his request which only made him smirk.

“Okay, baby, I can do that.” He was quick to comply, moving his fingers a little faster. You bit your lip, throwing your head back against his chest. Your back arched against him and he grinned against your skin. He was going to have fun with this. You were breathing heavily as your hands fisted into the sheets. 

The pleasure was building in your gut and you could feel that familiar pull of release but you didn’t want this to end. A low moan of his name fell from your lips when he suddenly began to flick across your clit rather than circling it. His free hand shifting from the waistband of your pants up to your neck. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered as he gently squeezed on your neck. You were practically panting as you moved one hand from the sheets up into his hair. You did your best to nod your head, panting out ‘yes, yes, yes’. His lips were resting against the shell of your ear and you felt the breathy chuckle that escaped his lips at your whining and moaning.

“Oh God,” You whined as your back arched further, fingers tugging at the root of his hair. Your walls were contracting around nothing, clit throbbing with each flick of his fingertips.

“You’re being so good for me, baby. Cum for me, carina. Let me give you what you need,” He whispered against your ear as his fingers squeezed around your throat. You were panting, eyes falling closed and his mumbles of praise was the last straw. 

Your thighs were shaking as you threw your head back, moaning his name as you came. The slick gushed out of you and his fingers were quick to dip down to catch it. He smirked against your ear, letting his hand slip from your neck to your stomach. You felt completely boneless and relaxed for the first time in months. It barely took anything for him to have you whining and keening for him and he couldn’t deny that he was high on the power.

As you came down, he pressed soft kisses to the skin of your neck and his hand that had been on your clit settled to rest in your underwear  but away from your sensitive clit. You had sounded so pretty moaning his name and he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to truly repay you for what you’d done for him, “Do you want another one?” He asked softly. His lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You bit your lip, eyes still closed but you did. You really did.

“Please,” You whimpered. He chuckled and slipped his hands up to tug at the waist of your pants and underwear.

“Gotta take this off then,” He said. You nodded and lifted your hips up so that he could slip the fabric down your legs. He didn’t bother stripping them completely and instead let them settle just above your calves. It gave him enough room to work and he was quick to slip one hand to your cunt and the other to your clit.

When he pressed his fingers against it, you shivered. It was still sensitive from your first orgasm but the pleasure from the slow circles he ran around it made the overstimulation easy to ignore. His hand on your cunt ran two fingers through your slit. You were so wet for him and it made slipping a single finger into your weeping hole that much easier.

The feeling of his fingers inside you had you keening but you knew that you could take more than that. It seemed Luke quickly understood that too and slipped a second one inside. His thick fingers filled you up just right and he curled his fingers inside you. Your walls contracted around him and he smirked against your hair.

“Oh, carina, you're desperate for it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded your head, biting your lip as you canted your hips forward slightly. His fingers buried deeper inside you and he smirked, “Want me to move my fingers?” He asked. You nodded, begging him with soft whimpers of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ and he slowly began to move them in and out. His other hand was still circling your clit and the combination of pleasure was making you melt into him. Whimpers and moans falling from your lips as one of your hands buried further into his hair. You were gripping at his curls, canting your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Do you need me to be faster, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head, letting out a needy whimper as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were hooded, blown-wide with lust as he took in just how destroyed you look. Mussy hair, parted lips, half-lidded eyes and the squelching of his fingers as he shoved into you, you looked beautiful.

“I-” You tried to say something but then he changed pace on your clit again. He began to flick it, moving side-to-side and all that came from your lips was a moan of his name. Your head falling back against his shoulder, “I’ll- your fingers-” You wanted to tell him, you wanted to warn him but the quicker he moved, the harder it became to speak. 

Your mind was becoming a hazy mush as he slipped a third finger into you. Your walls tightened around him, thighs shaking as you lifted up slightly. Body pressed against him, “You’re gonna- make me- fuck your fingers will make me squirt,” You finally managed to get out between breathy whines and moans. Luke smirked and it just seemed to make him move faster. His fingers slipped in and out of you quickly. Your walls were squeezing him, hips meeting his every movement as he flicked your clit quicker.

You felt it. The tendril of pleasure that was about to snap and then it did. It was like everything shunted forward and you squirted. His hands were soaked with it and it dripped down to your ass, soaking the bed beneath you as you panted, whined and moaned his name. He was pretty sure he’d never seen such a pretty sight.

“Fuck,” He groaned as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. They were shining with slick and he couldn’t help grinning. He hadn’t expected to make you cum like that but he couldn’t say it wasn’t a beautiful sight.

“Should have- should have warned you,” You mumbled as you fell back against him. Your head was lolling to the side, rested against him as you panted against the skin of his neck. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to his temple, shifting you forward so that you curled up against him. 

Your legs were shaking still, your pussy throbbing as you turned to the side to rest your head against him. His hands were covered in your slick and he was mesmerized by it, “I’m sorry, it’s messy,” You muttered, clearly you were fucked out. Your eyes could barely stay open as you rested your cheek against his chest.

“Don’t apologize,” He suddenly said. His voice was low, stern and serious, “Nothing wrong with messy,” He mumbled before he leant down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He wanted to hold your face and kiss you properly but he needed to clean up his hands first. You also needed to go to the bathroom.

“Thank you,” You muttered. He pressed another kiss to your forehead before he coaxed you out of your post-orgasm bliss. It wasn’t long before he had taken you into the bathroom and while he washed his hands of your slick, you sat on the toilet. You were so tired but you pissed, wiped yourself up and joined him at the sink. You washed and dried your hands before you trudged up to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso.

He wrapped his arms around you, tugging you against him before he connected your lips into a soft kiss. It was just a few pecks before you pulled back, eyes half-closed. The sleepiness was making its presence known and he knew that you both needed to get some sleep. Also, your post-orgasm bliss had only seemed to make you even sleepier. You seemed more relaxed than you had been all day. He felt bad for leaving you so worked up but it wasn’t going to do that again.

With a gentle tug, he took you back into the bedroom and he checked over the bed. There was only a small patch of wetness which he was quick to avoid as he tugged you under the covers. Part of him felt bad for making such a mess and not having the forethought to lay a couple of towels down before he fucked you with his fingers but he had seen you squirt tonight and so, he wasn’t really sorry at all.

When you both got back into the bed, Luke let you curl up on top of him. Your head rested against his peck, the soft thrum of his heart lulling you into serenity.

“Can’t wait to be back home. Wanna see what else you can do,” You mumbled softly against him. He chuckled, his chest vibrating with it as you smiled against his skin. He moved his hand to rest against your back, running patterns along your skin.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” He responded. You hummed back before finally letting yourself succumb to sleep. Within seconds, you were conked out and he just watched you for a little bit. Your chest rose and fell steadily as you snuggled against him in your sleep. It was soothing to have someone after so long. He wanted you to fall asleep against his chest for the rest of his life and he loved you even if he wasn’t ready to tell you that yet.

<3

next chapter

[robinyourcreator]

WIP Wednesday

@avoskorm tagged me to share something aaaand instead of working on anything that has a proper deadline i've started like 3 new wips this week

whoops

aaaand i will tag @oldlight117 @marlfox1017 @shamelessinfodumper @bonechillen @strugglingcomet2

anyways, angsty kiss meme fill wip below the cut, in the very depressing in between of sparing Aylin and getting answers from her

Adana frowns and puts her pocket watch away, turning to face you fully, her brows knitting together in such disquieting concern that it-- it makes you want to vomit, shove her away, do something, anything to get her to stop looking at you like that.

"I don't think it's pointless for you to take care of yourself right now, Shadowheart," Adana says gently, so gently you're not sure whether you want to kill her or to die. That softness of hers is dangerous, is weakness, and if you don't exploit it, someone else will, or worse. To allow it is to foster such terrible weakness in yourself as well. 

You are going to die. She is going to drown you.

"Just-- just leave me alone," you stammer, nearly beg, your voice feeble even to your own ears, all your bite and sharp edges dulled to uselessness now. "I can keep watch alone. I'll be useless tomorrow anyways. At least the rest of you can be fresh for the battles ahead this way."

"...I'm not sure you can," Adana starts, and you must show your flinch because she immediately raises her hands, desperately placating. "Which doesn't matter, because I know for a fact that you definitely shouldn't walk into a battle on a night of no sleep, certainly not after the ordeal you've had today. Please, just wait here, and I'll fetch our replacements, and then we can both at least try to get some sleep. Please?"

What point is there in arguing? Today alone you have watched her argue an orthon into killing his own minions, his beloved pet, and then himself. And even after that, you had let her speak-- let her talk you out of your own damned destiny, even after screaming at each other and wrestling in the dirt and the muck and the blood in your Lady's domain, and even after you had gotten the upper hand, had held the point of your Lady's spear over her heart-- she had still gotten her way, talked what she surely thought was good sense into your thick skull.

It is utterly pointless to argue with Adana. Why even try?

“...Fine,” you say softly, your voice barely a rasp as it leaves your throat. “Have it your way.” 

She smiles-- soft, sad, strained-- and quickly, so quickly, as if she’s acting on a whim before she can think better of it, kisses your cheek. “I’ll be back as quick as I can, love.” 

‘Love.’ She says it so easily, so freely, letting it slip from her lips with the ease of a thought she’s had a thousand thousand times before. Has she? Does she really think of you that way? So frequently? So fondly? Maybe she has, though gods only know why she would.

[rizbefwrites]

WIP Wednesday

(thursday) (wordsday?)

Thanks to @jukkaricity for the tag! I am new to how this works so still working out the conventions!

I'm on Chapter 14 out of 53ish of my Origins rewrite (Zenith of the Black Sky), at around 46k words right now. I first started writing it because I just wanted a little Dragon Age novel just for me, but now I want somebody else to love Enid and her arc with me, so preparing to share her some day. I've been sitting on this Prologue for literally a decade (had kids, got busy, whoops)...and I'll probably revise it again at some point.

Prologue

The trees burned. Clan members hacked frantically at the ornate  yokes of their wooden landships. The sails smoked, small holes appearing as hot ash rained down. The many halla strained against their straps, white fur glistening with sweat, their twisted branchlike antlers waving at the sky as they managed to escape one by one, bleating a terrible note as they fled into the forest depths. 

“Mamae!” a child cried through the smoke, embers striking her flushed cheeks as torched leaves fell around the forest floor. Fingers of flame caressed her bare ankles as she sprinted through the glowing underbrush.

“Mamae!” she screamed again, now hoarse from the hot smoke and desperation tearing at her lungs and throat.

“I am here, Da’len,” came a panic-stricken voice through the haze. “Enid, I am here!” 

A hand on her hand, an arm beneath her body sweeping her from her feet. Her mother’s smooth cheek nestled itself to her own as they hurried through the collapsing forest. 

Enid coughed several times, vomiting over her mother’s shoulder as the woman continued maneuvering away from the heart of the flames.

“Stay with me, Da’len, tell me you are with me.”

“I am here, Mamae…” she coughed, feebly wiping her mouth, eyes shut tight against the hot and gritty air.

“We are almost out, Da’len…”

~*~

Voices. Angry voices. Enid could not open her eyes. Her entire body ached. The vicious stabbing in her temple was met in severity only by the parched pleas of her throat.

“Do you think they’ll come for us? The elves?” The voice belonged to a small boy.

“Don’t be stupid, Alfric,” hissed a young girl whose voice Enid also did not recognize.

“It’s not stupid, Hannah! We have one of their people and the other one got herself killed - that won’t make them very happy!”

“Mum is taking care of her - they won’t kill us for that!”

“The blacksmith said they eat children over stuff like this!”

“If you really believed that, you wouldn’t be in this room!”

Enid could hardly process the children’s argument, so strong was her thirst.

“Water,--” she rasped.

“It’s awake!” shouted the girl.

“Water…” Enid started to cry, though no tears spilled.

“Mum, the elf is awake!” yelled the boy.

“The poor thing will want some water,” a woman said. As Enid realized there was a bed beneath her and furs covering her small frame, she heard feet shuffling toward her across what she assumed was a bedroom floor.

“Here you go, dear. Drink a little if you can.”

She felt a soft hand lift her head gently. Enid complied with a small whimper as soon as the cup touched her lips, feeling the coolness of the water travel all the way to her stomach.

“Mamae…” she managed.

“What’s she saying?” the boy whispered. “Mama? She wants her mum? But—”

“Hush, Alfric.”

Enid’s face crinkled with discomfort. She could not drink much more from the pain in her throat, so the woman set the cup aside. The woman’s cool hand touched her forehead, four fingers as smooth and chilled as stones by the riverbed. They brought comfort.

“I’m going to change your bandages now, little one.”

The hand moved from Enid’s forehead to her forearm. Belatedly, she registered that it was indeed in significant pain. As the cloth came unraveled, a pain so white hot and sharp flew through her that consciousness fled from her yet again.

~*~

What happened to my mother? Nobody will tell me. Please, what happened to her?” 

Enid was sitting up in bed, head on her knees, injured arm outstretched. The woman dabbed elfroot ointment over the nearly healed burns. The woman’s name was Lorena. She lived in this house with her husband and their two young children, her stomach overlarge with a third. For two weeks now she had cared for Enid’s wounds, though not all damage could be healed with poultices, bandages, and elfroot. 

“Enid, please…” she replied in a placating tone. They had been through this before.

Tears welled in the young girl’s eyes as she steadfastly watched Lorena rewrap the bandage around her arm.  “Please, I need her. Where has she gone? When will she be back?”

Lorena sighed and was surprised to find tears springing from her own eyes. She closed her eyes to will them away before she spoke. “She is gone, child. She… she perished in the fire. The other villagers were able to keep the flames in line, but--” she took a breath then to gather herself. “But your mother is gone.”

Enid’s face flattened. She gently removed her arm from Lorena’s hold and laid down, face to the wall.

“Forgive me, little one. I could not bear to tell you when your health was so poor.”

“How did I get away?” Enid whimpered. 

“Your mother made it to the edge of the forest with you, where we were dousing the tree line. I found you and took you in to heal your wounds.”

“But I was so sick. I don’t understand. Why am I alive? Why is she gone? Why didn’t you save her too?” Her little voice cracked and then the sobbing began. Quiet, wracking sobs that shook the entire cot. 

“The villagers… they…” Lorena could not speak another word. The child is too young. Too young to know such things. She should never know the truth.

“Did they kill her?” Enid asked darkly, her voice thick with tears. “Did they kill my mother?”

The answer tied itself to the edge of the woman’s tongue, refusing to come out.

Enid sniffed. “Because she’s an elf? Or because she’s a mage?”

Lorena reached out and brushed the child’s black hair away from her pale face, caressing her cheek with her thumb. “I would not let them kill you, too. Andraste preserve me, I would not let them harm a child.”

Suddenly the room’s single glass window pane glazed over with frost. It creaked from the rapid temperature change, threatening to shatter beneath its new blue crust. Lorena snatched her hand away from the girl’s cheek with a gasp. Her breath hovered as a mist in the cooled air.

“Leave me be,” Enid murmured.

“O-of course, child.”

Lorena exited the room as swiftly as she could, her hips straining as her own child kicked her ribs from the inside. She nearly toppled her husband Eamon as she stumbled into the hallway. 

“How is she?” Eamon asked, eyes darting to the closed bedroom door, slammed a little too quickly for his comfort.

She shook her head and heaved a sigh, though her voice still wavered. “The child is a mage, Eamon. Send for the templars.”

[dr-demi-bee]

2024 Writing Retrospect

Thanks for the tags @marlowethebard and @galeorderbride 🥰

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I think the thing I've really learned the most about this year is collaborative creative writing. Getting into narrative style role-playing has informed it a lot - I've definitely learned a lot about how to 'yes, and' and to get into a character's skin. Not only that, but this year I found a community of other writers! And now I'm learning how to be brave and share my work more, how to discuss content without fear of judgement, and to enjoy the process more.

And I think the number one thing I really learned this year has been that there are people that like my work! Genuinely! They like it! They like my characters and my style and- 🥹🥹

How has your writing developed this past year?

This year was a bit of a wild ride. While I got back into writing in general in late '22, started writing fanfic in late '23, and started *posting* fic in even later '23 - I feel like I didn't hit my stride until this year. And that's not to say I wasn't writing well before now - I just feel like I've really started to find my voice (again) and get out of the academic headspace and into the creative.

Good writing habits?

I do it? Haha!

I think, honestly, other than letting myself write what I want and just generally spending time writing - my best good writing habit this year has been allowing myself to be motivated by the enthusiasm of my friends.

Bad writing habits?

Word vomit. Sometimes my stream of consciousness writing is Too Much™️ and I spend way too much time in my own head trying to edit it into something 'perfect'. I'm exceptionally bad at killing darlings.

Favorite thing you wrote?

I know I haven't updated it recently (and I am this close to changing that, I swear) - but my favorite piece is my long fic. It's self-indulgent, but it feels so good to write. And I genuinely enjoy re-reading it every time someone comments on it

Service and Worship are not Love (e.g. the Primalweave story)

Favorite reads?

I've read so many exceptional things this year! It's so hard to pick! But here's a few that stand out:

to admit everything by meownotgood

Axioms of heavenly bodies; an intimate analysis of systems unknown and the pleasures contained therein by @12thhouse-sun

Deeply and Immovably So by @dutifullylazybread

if music by the food of love, play on series by @pouroverpaloma

literally any of the poetry written by @waterdeep-weavemoss

every brain chemistry altering galemance piece by @senualothbrok

Biggest win?

Finishing the October Blurbapalooza! How did I do that! Ah! That was a lot of fun. 🥰

(and secretly, giving myself permission to skip the last day felt really fucking good hehe)

Goals for the new year?

I'd love to finish my long fic. Or at least post a dozen of the WIPs I've got staring at me from the editing pile. (whoops)

What are you excited for in the new year?

To keep going. 🥰 To be in a space where I am comfortable, welcome, and loved - and where I am encouraged to be creative and can support others doing so!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Open boops for anyone interested in doing this yourself. Thanks for a good 2024 lovelies 💙🥰 Here's to a safe and comfy 2025.

[kharmii]

I wrote this as a reply to a post, but maybe it should get added to the tags so anybody getting into the ship has a place to look up origins all in one place for context. There are too many people with 'Queen Bee Syndrome' going around pissing in people's cheerios telling them what they can and can't ship. It isn't as bad as they say, yo. It was supposed to be humorous! Anyway....

I've been seeing so much Catholic guilt on Twitter these days where people be like, "I can't believe I used to like Trainwreck! It makes me want to vomit! Why would I think it was sexy to see a guy beating up another guy!" It's either pretentious virtue signaling, or it's coming from scared young girls being brow-beaten by the threat of cancel culture into having to prove how good and perfect they are in fandom. Get over yourselves and check out my collection of vintage Trainwreckshipping posts that (facetiously) explain the context of why violence was funny.

Emmet goes to fight God but Arceus hides behind a pillar and points to Volo.

Manipulative Volo laughs about what he did but...oh no! Here comes the pissed off brother!!

Princess bride meme rough handling of Volo.

Emmet chokes Volo.

TAKE THAT YOU VILE FIEND!! (Emmet punches Volo meme)

Emmet chases Volo riding on Arceus.

Emmet chokes Volo but ends up with a knife pressing into his gut.

Volo plays a mean prank to mess with the twins.

Sexual tension with a knife part 1.

Sexual tension with a knife part 2.

Sexual tension with a knife part 3.

Volo so smug and manipulative; Emmet so crazy.

Death threat.

Emmet bloodies Volo's nose.

Where Volo is actually evil and bad ends Emmet.

Emmet coming to whoop some ass.

Giratina possessed Emmet threatens to assault Volo.

Emmet goes after Volo with a brick.

Brave soul who is still doing toxic trainwreck in modern times.

Oops (It never gets old).

Me taking the piss part 1.

Me taking the piss part 2.

If I missed any, please pm me and I'll add them (and I'll keep adding to this post as I finds 'em).

This might be an unpopular opinion, but if someone gives you a hard time for being into this ship, you could always reply along the lines of, "Fuck you, pretentious, virtue-signaling twat. I don't owe you or anybody else anything. Nobody should be judging a person's morality based on what silly thing they ship" It might not get you any friends now, but I'm holding out hope we one day get past cancel culture. Currently, we give too much power to seasoned bullies who use the current political environment as a way to get around the social stigma of anti-bullying campaigns.

[lostinforestbound]

WIP "Wednesday"

Not Wednesday, but I still have a Wip! Thanks so much @graysparrowao3 for tagging me!! (Happy you're back from Tumblr Jail!!)

No pressure tags: @drizztdohurtin @viennacherries @faerunsbest

This is from Chapter 2 of Third Time's a Charm! This scene is going to be completely rearranged as this is supposed to be in Rolan's POV, but for some reason I wrote it with alternating POVs! Whoops!

Here's a snippet of it! The scene is in Last Light Inn, after Tav and his crew saved him from the shadows. He went right back to drinking after his failure and Tav dragged him to a spare room.

His breath smelled of alcohol, Tav realized. Even then, Rolan grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him down for a rough kiss, all tongue and teeth. Rolan wanted this kiss to hurt, merciless, and almost cruel. It’s Tav’s fault, after all.

He kisses him back all the time but lets Rolan take the lead even when it hurts.

Eventually, Tav grips his jaw and pulls away from his mouth. “You’re drunk.”

He huffs, “So?”

“C'mon Wizard, you’re smarter than that."

He wants to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time. Instead, he quickly scrambles to the side of the bed and vomits onto the floor, all of the ingested alcohol fighting back. 

He feels hands in his hair, pulling the strands back as bile keeps rising in his throat, all of it coming out in waves. Tav’s holding his hair back, he realizes, putting a free hand on his back to rub soothing circles.

It's utterly humiliating.

[thatsunnyalien]

Decided to print my story and I’m feeling quite proud. It’s the first long form writing I’ve ever completed so I decided to throw it down in the middle of all of my journals as I try to start my next story.

Wish me luck!

Sticky reads: Not to judge the proverbial book by its cover but I'd venture to say he was all cover, no pages.

Things I’ve learned from this:

-Write everyday, even if it’s just a sentence or two.

-Write the scene you want to write, organize it all later.

-There is no bad writing, just something you might cannibalize later.

-One scene at a time makes a story.

-Don't be afraid to read it out loud like an actor on a stage.

Stats for Nerds:

Start: 2024, October 29th

End: 2025, January 21st

Below is the link for the fic itself:

In Dreams of Blood and Water (95217 words) by SunnyAlien Chapters: 34/34 Fandom: Life Eater (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Johnny/Ralph Characters: Johnny, Ralph, Zimforth, OCs Additional Tags: POV First Person, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Canon Canon, Expanded Universe, canon AU, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Cosmic Conflict, Sexual Content, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, Supernatural Elements, Survivors Guilt, babies first fanfic, Whoops Wrote too Much, Enemies to Friends to Lovers to ???, Abuse, Blood and Gore, Corpses, Death, Drinking, Drug Use, Emotional Baggage, Fire, Graphic descriptions, Homophobia, Insects, Kidnapping, Mental Instability, PTSD, Religion, Self-Harm, Smoking, Spiders, Suicide, Trauma, Violence, Vomit, Its Life Eater, All Chapters Titles are Song Lyrics, All Hail The Spider God Referenced Summary: Johnny has spent the last ten years of his life locked in a man’s basement but now that he’s free he has to come to terms that his life is never going to be the same. He is different, home is different, and Ralph? He’s not sure how he feels about any of that, but he’s trying to make the best of it. One thing though still lingers dormant in the back of his mind, Zimforth, and it still wants him dead. Johnny needs to find the will to keep fighting even when it begins to all fall apart. Can Johnny survive the end of the world without losing himself and everything that matters? Fic Playlist: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkqwkRkgOj8in5y_QJJUSFMBRL6M6-Z4j&si=9G5Gy7ddtlBLTZ3e

[warlordess]

live and let live

My first (technically pre-)Steddie fic! Yay! Please share, maybe follow me, if you like it. I don't contribute a ton of original content but I do have, like, a dozen ideas for ST/Steddie/Stobin fics that I may work up the courage to type out and share.

TW: Vomiting (a couple times throughout), vaguely interpretable suicidal ideation (just Eddie thinking everyone's better off leaving him behind in the UD). Some mention of blood/injury to varying extents (to be expected considering the setting). I believe that's all for TWs but please inform me if you think there's anything else. I'm really new to this kind of tagging.

Tagging my ST fic bestie, @ataliagold (and hoping that using the term bestie is appropriate; if not then whoops, I take it back). They've been very supportive when it comes to my writing. They wanted to know when I finally posted my first fic.

---

Eddie Munson is jarred suddenly back to life not long after he initially left it behind. 

He shudders through one faint, ailing breath, then the next, staring blurrily up through half-lidded eyes at the black and red skies streaked with lighting strikes he can hardly discern. Whimpers and convulses at ricocheting shocks of the most intense pain he's ever felt. Absorbs the sight of the multitude of blurry shadows leaning over his bloody, broken corpse. 

It takes him far too long, or maybe not long at all, to realize he's being touched rather insistently, hands pressing against every open wound, which honestly feels like every inch of him, presumably hoping to cause him as much turmoil as possible. So focused on the agony lancing through his entire being, he doesn't notice the singular voice carrying into one of his ears and out the other before he starts sinking into darkness once more. 

"Hey! I just got you going again!" A hand taps adamantly (nearly slaps) against one of his cheeks, but what really does the job is the resounding series of shots ringing into the distance from what his barely functioning brain can only assume is a double-barreled shotgun. "So don't you fucking dare, Munson!" A brief weighted pause before the potentially disembodied voice continues their agitated muttering. "Christ's sake! I gave you both one fucking job, man!" 

Things are starting to come back to him despite the internal hope that he'll just be able to lay back and rest, finally. 

The shotgun. Nancy. 

The red skies. The Upside Down. 

His one job. 

The distraction. Not the hero. 

A bolt of alarm shoots across his brain. 

"H'rin… ton…" The slurred approximation of the surname barely makes it past his lips, has to gasp for breath after. 

Christ, even talking hurts to do. 

Despite that, he wills himself to continue. To come back to himself. To ask the all-important question in this moment. 

"Dus'n… okay?" 

He can just make out the familiar thick head of hair of the ousted king of Hawkins High through eyes still watering from his radiating pains, sees the slightly colored shadow slow in their harried movements as if to stare down at him. He dares to wonder if Steve's eyes soften at the question, knowing that even in death, Eddie's heart is in the right(?) place. 

Steve doesn't have the opportunity to speak before a loud throaty sniffle from Eddie’s other side catches their ears. 

"Y - you asshole, Eddie…" Dustin whispers. It likely would have been a wail if he hadn't spent a significant amount of time and energy a short time ago screaming for help. As it stands, his voice is about as hoarse as it can get without him losing it altogether. "Can't believe you… How could you do that to me?" 

Eddie doesn't have an answer, or maybe he does as far as his own question goes. If he'd been in a better state of mind he might have mocked Steve's position in the group by calling the boy out for his foul language, however it's clear the situation has offered their youngest party member a pass while they focus on more important things. 

"Steve, we have to go, I'm running low on ammo. And who knows how long the gates back to Hawkins will hold," a more distant voice informs them.

Steve inhales a stuttering breath before his expression returns to firmly grim. There's more shuffling, maneuvering around, tying off what Eddie can only assume are the parts of his body that still attempt to form a whole and he screeches his agony to the thundering scarlet clouds above. Though it comes out more of a cough before he wrenches his head to the side and vomits right there. It lasts a fair few seconds before tapering off into a dry heave. 

"Ergh, Steve!" a fourth voice practically shouts, presumably in response to this event.

Eddie tries to blink his vision clear again, wondering what happened, but his action is waved off by their next step.

"It's fine, Robs. Like Nance says, we don't have time. We have to get going. I'll take Eddie; you help Dustin." 

“Wuss wr’ng ith Dus’n…?” Because he's coming up blank.

“Not now, don’t worry; he’s fine, Eddie.”

He's not sure if he fades away again or not, time seems to span far and wide beyond his comprehension at present. All he knows is that, some insurmountable length of it later, he feels the weight of his every pound of flesh tear away from him as he's turned and lifted up, one arm hoisted over a broad set of shoulders. The sound that claws and curdles its way from his grated and parched throat sounds so inhumane that he thinks the demobats must have returned to finish the job they somehow failed at the first time around. 

In such duress, in such intense suffering, with the stench of his own sick somehow following him around, it's impressive he doesn't puke a second time, even though he falls entirely limp, waters from his eyes and drools out of his open mouth. 

"Fuck, c'mon, man." Steve's voice murmurs softly into his ear before he grunts and tries to even out Eddie's dead weight distribution. "I know this isn't how you wanted to end your day but too bad." Another grunt, a prevailing exhale. "I need you to keep one leg a little sturdy so you don't immediately fall if I lose our balance. Just one, c’mon; help me out a little." 

The logic is sound, or it would be if Eddie was still a semi-functioning human. But every part of him is in tatters, nothing left untouched, so he ends up basically being dragged like luggage across the semi-familiar terrain. He blacks out momentarily once or twice, maybe expires again, but Steve is hyper-aware of his every lack of breath, jostling him just enough to reawaken him as needed.

“... Don’t have time for you to die, Munson, let’s go,” King Steve commands of him. Other voices are filtering in again too.

“Steve, you two are falling behind, you have to keep up!” Nancy.

“Doing our best!” Steve grunts in reply.

“Steve, your wounds…” Robin.

“It’s fine, I told you,” Eddie can hear the person closest to him - Who is it…? He knew this answer a short while ago, he’s certain - breathing a little more harshly now. “We all gotta make… sacrifices at the end of the world…”

“Mmm, you h'rt'ng for me, H’rington…?” The words leave Eddie’s mouth with a corner-lipped smirk.

“Yup, for you, man, whatever it takes. Just stay awake. We can’t stop to resuscitate you again until we’re outta the Upside Down.”

Holy shit; that’s it then. He really did die. It had been an abstract truth up until now. After all, how does one know when they've perished unless someone is there to inform them of the event? The cold, hard fact settles in his gut like a stone, rattling around and becoming the only thing he can focus on until he's forcibly distracted.

"Shit!" Steve curses with a harsh gasp, his grip on Eddie going momentarily lax as he stumbles.

Eddie can still barely make anything out of his surroundings but he knows two things instantly; one is that the ground is coming up on him faster than he can handle and two is that whatever standard throb of agony that had enveloped him before immediately increased tenfold.

His following shout escapes him despite his efforts to bite down and bear the burden of his misery. Somewhere in the middle of his latest howling episode, he feels another wave of bile rake its way up his esophagus and spew from between his lips just as Steve regains his hold and tries to right them. He has half a second to notice that he tastes more copper than he should before he's interrupted.

"Shit! Sorry… M'sorry, fuck; Eddie, y'okay?" Steve pushes them back into upright positions and Eddie does what he can to breathe through the oncoming spasms. He braces himself through the foreboding thought that his apparent savior appears to be slurring his words too. That's likely not a point in their favor.

"Steve, Eddie! Oh man, that's so much blo-!" Dustin blubbers. Doesn't appear to move any closer though.

"It's fine, m'fine, we're all 'kay," he says all in one rushed breath, "L'ess just keep g'ing, like I said before, Dusty, we're all gonna… make t'out." His grip on Eddie's wasted body grows ever tighter, as if doing so further impresses upon them all his oath.

But Eddie can't see it. Can't really see anything at present. All he knows is anguish. Empty words. The encroaching presence of Death's door beckoning him. This group of people already clearly struggling to survive but slowing their progress ever more just to try and see him out too. He can't let them. He can't let them waste their precious limited time on him.

Nancy falls back, grip on her shotgun slackening just so, inspects them both with furrowed brows and a tense line across her forehead. This close, he can actually make out some details, such as the very brief nibble of her bottom lip, a faint fracture in her emotional armor before she puts distance between them and offers a grim nod. 

It's clear that the prognosis isn't great but she's not giving up on them either.

"You're both fine so we keep moving. Make sure you keep up. We're close to the exit."

That leaves it all up to him then.

"J'st… leave'm." He hurtles through the statement so fast, he's unsure if they'll understand. But they need to so he'll say it however many times it takes. Even until his dying breath.

"... What?" Dustin practically whimpers in disbelief. "No!"

"M'done. Dying… dead… wh'tever… Can't let y'guys get… tr'pped here." His vision, what's left of it, wavers in and out and Steve notices, jostles him again, snapping him back to the present.

"Eddie, c'mon, we don't have time to fight over this, dumbass!" Robin reasons with him. "We don't leave our people behind so you're coming with us!"

"N'then what?" he asks, tone sharper than he expects of himself, certain that had been bled from him already. He does what he can to blink away the blurred, darkening edges of his vision because he needs them to understand. "S'a waste. J'st gonna wind up… in jail… Or strung up… 'n th'streets by some… vig'lante mob. S'not worth saving me… S'just leave me here."

The group appears to erupt into chaos at this point.

"We're not gonna-!" 

"Eddie, you moron, we didn't come this far-!"

"Y'r not… listening here…"

"You're one of us, okay? So you're sticking with us-!"

"We know people, they can help maybe, we'll figure it out-!"

"It's a waste of time fighting now. Steve, just keep carrying him out. It's not like he can stop us-!"

"F'ckin' listen to me, d'mmit…" he grumbles, short of breath again now, but perhaps that's the panic attack from his only likely future (or lack thereof) pressing down on him from all sides.

"Shut up!" Steve's tone carries a grave definition, and their entire party stills rather impressively in response. "We're not fighting about this now. Eddie, we just got you back from the fucking dead. You're coming with us. We'll handle the rest."

"But…"

"You do not get to die here. You don't. You don't get to hurt the rest of us that way." And then, after a brief pause, he twists the knife. "Unless you plan to run away like a coward."

Ice drips down to the base of Eddie's spine at that. After everything he'd endured, he deserved his rest, despite it being potentially eternal… but hadn't he already said he wouldn't be that guy anymore…? So then did he have a metaphorical leg to stand on in this argument?

"... S'not worth g'ing back."

"You don't know that, man. This is your first rodeo and, yeah, things weren't looking great before. But, like Dustin said, we know people and they've helped clean up after the Upside Down b'fore. If they can't work it out then we'll save you ourselves. We've 'lready done it up til now, haven't we?"

"Can't… ask that f'ya, man." He's practically suffocating from everything already and trying to think of anything beyond the here and now only exacerbates his condition. "S'is easier to j'st let me go. J'st--"

"Shut your mouth, dumbass, we're done talking about it. Nance, Robs, Dustin, let's move out."

"H'rington, wha' gives you th'right to-!"

"Because, asshole, we're in this shitstorm together until the end. You don't get to clock out early!" And then, as the final nail in the coffin, "If you die, then I die! We all die! It's all or none of us!"

A stark, stagnant silence weighs them all down instantaneously at that. Not to be deterred, Steve strengthens his grip on his apparently unwilling cohort and stalks forward toward their destination, casting a furtive glance at Dustin that Eddie doesn't understand as they pass him and the others.

And Eddie… What can he say to that kind of line? Especially coming from King Steve 'The Hair' Harrington himself? Once again, he's struck with the profound knowledge that this isn't the guy he remembered sharing the Hawkins High School halls with. 

All that being considered, he thinks such a declaration merits a response, and he can't help feeling moved - perhaps even tempered - by it. So he musters up his meager strength and delivers unto his savior his final decision.

"... Th'n I guess… we'll live."

---

I'm a huge fan of callbacks to earlier intense/emotional moments in canon so, when the thought came to me of having Steve use Dustin's line to urge Eddie to continue living, it wouldn't leave me alone.

This is the first thing I've written in a good year, and I only wrote maybe 15k words around then, and hadn't written for a good 5 or so years leading up to it. So, uh, please understand I tried my best for now, clearing the cobwebs. Hopefully it all came together fine.

I'm open to continuing in this "universe", maybe going from pre-Steddie vibes to full-on Steddie. This was just the original premise and I wanted to get it out there. I doubt anything else I write will feel all that "unique" in regards to this scenario (since lots of people have written Eddie-survives fics).

Like I said at the start, please like/reblog, let me know what you think, maybe follow me if you can manage to put up with my mess of a blog that is not 100% Steddie. It will all encourage me to continue my dumpster dive into this ship/fandom.