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unpredictable-probabilities · 3 months ago

Text

The Pleasures of Dreaming and Waking

Summary:

Hob spends time with Dream after a long week at work. As they chat over their usual table, they grow more comfortable in expressing their fantasies and endeavour to explore them.

Notes:

Inspired by this fic written by @delta-pavonis <3

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,716

Square/Prompt: B3 - Somnophilia | @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Making Out, Nipple Play, Smut, Eldritch Sex, Light Bondage, Consensual Somnophilia, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Orgasm Edging, Multiple Orgasms, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Cuddling & Snuggling, Naked Cuddling, Post-Coital Cuddling, Porn Without Plot, Porn With Feelings

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59931001

———

The sounds of conversations combined with the clinking of cutlery and soft footsteps is making Hob sleepy.

He had a long week at work and only managed to catch a break now that it's Friday; he stifles a yawn behind his hand and mumbles thanks to the waiter that just brought their order to their table.

“Are you well, my love? You seem exhausted.” A frown creases Dream’s forehead, and Hob still marvels at how Dream is more comfortable with expressing his emotions now, especially since they started dating three months ago; a fact that Hob still has trouble believing if he thinks about it too hard.

Hob nods and straightens up in his seat, trying to blink the fatigue out of his eyes. “I'm alright, love, don't worry. Just pretty knackered with finals week coming up. Been up late catching up on grading papers and all that.”

“You should have informed me sooner. We could always meet in my realm while your physical body rests.”

“Yeah, but I'm quite fond of this place,” Hob admits. “This table is where I was sitting when you first came back. I like talking with you here.”

“You are stubbornly sentimental,” Dream chides, though there's an unmistakable smile on his lips.

“You love it,” Hob says pointedly, taking some chips from the basket.

Dream makes a sound that might have been a chuckle. “Very well. What woes did you experience in the world of academia today? I have heard it is part of unwinding to talk about how one’s day has gone.”

“You learned that in one of those relationship books you read in your library?” He walked in on Dream reading that sort of book once in the Dreaming during their first month of dating. Dream vanished the book in an instant when he saw Hob, but Hob had been so endeared that he had pushed Dream against the shelf and kissed him senseless.

“Perhaps.” Dream drinks from his mug of hot chocolate to hide his face, but not before Hob sees the subtle pink on his cheeks.

Hob grins and reaches for Dream’s hand resting on the table, fiddling idly with the cuff of his sleeve. “Nothing remarkable happened, at this point even the students were just waiting for the weekend so classes were rather quiet. Then afterwards I went with some of my colleagues to that pub near the university, and we just traded mindless gossip to purge our brains of essays and staff meetings.”

Dream turns his hand so his palm is facing up, and he brushes his thumb back and forth on Hob's wrist as he speaks. “I am sure the other patrons enjoyed hearing gossip from academics.”

“I'm not so sure I did, honestly. My mate Nick runs his mouth after a few pints, and I didn't need to hear that he had a wet dream about our colleague from the Arts department. Does that fall under your jurisdiction, by the way? You just know whenever someone's fantasising in their dream?” Hob has already asked a lot of questions about Dream and his function, which Dream always answers with some degree of amusement, but Hob still feels like there's so much more to learn.

“I am able to see into someone's dreams should I wish, but unless a nightmare is crossing a line in troubling them or other similar concerns, I have no obligation nor desire to do so. And any fantasies they might have are created by their own minds.” Dream pauses and tilts his head slightly to the side. “Do you wish for us to do the same? To share such intimacies in my realm?”

Hob feels his face warm and he chuckles. He still gets caught off-guard by how direct Dream can be nowadays. “I thought you said you can't read minds?”

“I can sense daydreams. And yours are often loud.” The corner of his lips tilts up in a smirk.

“Well, can you blame me? People dream about that kind of stuff all the time, but for you and me, it would be real. It would actually be you.”

Dream’s smile disappears and he seems to hesitate, his face becoming guarded.

“Hey,” Hob says gently, stroking Dream’s arm with his fingers. “We don't have to, okay? All the sex we have here in the Waking is already perfectly amazing.”

“Crude.” Dream's eyes twinkle in amusement and he seems to relax. He pauses for a moment before continuing. “You have seen my form in my realm. How… different. I look.”

Hob raises an eyebrow. “You mean being paler and taller than an average human and having galaxies for eyes? And wearing that sinful robe that would be considered indecent in the streets of London?”

Dream lowers his gaze and is obviously trying to suppress a smile. “I am trying to be serious, Hob.”

“Oh I'm perfectly serious. I'm surprised you didn't sense my daydreams whenever we walked around your realm with you wearing that thing.”

“I… did. But.” Dream trails off, his fingers tapping restlessly on the inside of Hob’s arm.

“What's wrong?” Hob rarely sees Dream be so hesitant.

“I am… afraid. To hurt you, in my realm. If we engage in physical intimacy.”

Hob’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Hurt me? You could never hurt me, love.”

“I might.” Dream’s voice sounds strained with worry. “In my realm I am… more. In the throes of passion I might lose control of my humanoid form.” He looks right at Hob. “You inspire such greed in me, Hob Gadling. I will have you for as long as it takes until I am sated.”

Hob swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. If Dream intends to discourage him by what he just said, he's spectacularly failing. “So exactly as we always do it, then?” he manages to say lightly.

Dream huffs out a chuckle. “You are not daunted at all.” He sounds almost impressed.

“‘Course not,” Hob says easily. “Is it something that you want, though?”

Dream nods slowly. “I have thought of it. More than once. I should like to have you in my bed, at the heart of my palace. So the very essence of our ardour seeps into each fibre of my realm, that none may doubt my affections for you.”

Hob takes a shaky breath, unable to look away from Dream. They should probably be talking about this somewhere more private, but right now the most prominent thought in Hob's mind is if Dream wants it just as much as he does then why haven't they done it yet.

“Okay, okay,” Hob says mainly to calm himself. “Since we both want the same thing, is there any way I can make you more comfortable with the idea? We can use safe words, and I bet you can sense anyway if I feel like something’s too much for me.”

“I am uncertain about that. I have never been able to sense your discomfort in any of our couplings.”

“That's because I've never felt any discomfort, love. Like I said, everything we've done has been amazing, and I think you know by now that you're not the only one who can get greedy,” Hob says cheekily.

A smile curves Dream’s lips. “That is a fair point.”

“I know. So then. Um…” Hob looks around at the pub. “D’you wanna go upstairs and talk about it?”

“You are not too tired?”

“Oh believe me, I'm more awake now than I've been all week.” Hob calls over one of the waiters and tells him that they're taking their food to go.

“Eager, beloved?” Dream raises an eyebrow playfully after the waiter leaves.

“No more than you, Your Majesty.”

Dream makes a low humming noise in his chest that might have been a purr or a growl. Either way, it's definitely a sound of approval and that's all Hob needs to practically drag Dream upstairs as soon as they get their takeout bag.

Hob takes a shower first because he's not sleeping with his boyfriend while carrying the grime of public transport, nevermind that it's the quickest shower he's ever taken in his life.

When he gets out of the bathroom wearing a fresh shirt and sweatpants, he sees Dream on his bed wearing black silk pyjamas, sitting up against a pillow and reading Lord of the Rings. The whole image is so soft that it makes Hob’s chest ache.

“I like seeing you like this,” Hob says as he sits next to Dream.

“On your bed?”

“Relaxed.” Hob kisses the tip of Dream's nose. “Do you still want to talk about it?”

Dream nods. “Do you?”

“Yeah. Thanks for waiting while I showered.”

“You were not gone long. I had not even finished the chapter I was reading.” Dream closes the book and puts it on the nightstand. “I still do not know what happens after Frodo and Sam meet Merry and Pippin.”

“Oh, should I shower for longer then so you can continue reading?”

“If you step in that shower again I should be inclined to join you.”

“Talk first,” Hob says firmly, rather proud of himself for declining such a tempting offer. Granted, he declined in favour of a much more tempting one. “How'd you feel about safe words?” he turns to his side to more comfortably face Dream, folding a knee under him.

“They could prove to be useful, yes. What words do you recommend?”

“We can use the traffic light system. Green means continue, yellow means slow down, red means stop immediately.”

Dream considers for a moment. “And you promise to use them with no hesitation?”

“Yeah,” Hob nods. “And you should too.”

Dream slowly blinks at him, looking surprised.

“You can use them too,” Hob clarifies. “You're allowed to say if you're uncomfortable, yeah?”

Dream is silent for a few moments, forehead creased in thought. Then he slowly nods. “Alright. And I should like to give you control to shape the Dreaming.”

“What?” Now it's Hob's turn to be surprised.

“My realm is tied to my temperament. I may cause a storm without meaning to. Or an earthquake. While you might not be powerful enough to stop these things entirely, you will have the ability to shape the environment to conjure whatever shelter best suits your comfort.”

The first thought in Hob's mind is how utterly sweet Dream is to even think of granting him that much power over his realm; Hob is aware that that much trust given to him is not to be taken lightly.

The second thought following closely after is that Hob wants to see just how much he can make Dream lose control while sharing his bed. He wonders if he can pleasure Dream enough for him to make actual fireworks appear.

Dream chuckles and rests his forehead against Hob’s. “Your priorities continue to fascinate me, Hob Gadling.”

“Shall I show you how fascinating I can be, then?” Hob reaches up to run his fingers along the collar of Dream's silk shirt.

Dream purrs low in his chest and holds the back of Hob’s neck to slot their lips together.

Hob groans softly and clenches his fist into the fabric of Dream's shirt, pulling him down to lie on top of him.

“I thought you wished to do this in my realm,” Dream says playfully against his lips, pupils already blown.

“Still do. Take me there then, my lord.”

There’s sand and the familiar feeling of drifting off to sleep, and then all at once Hob feels a different bed under him, smooth as satin and softer than goosefeathers.

Dream is looming over him, his black robe nearly slipping off a pale shoulder. His blue eyes flicker down to Hob’s clothes, running over them with a curious gaze.

Hob looks down and realises that he’s wearing a bottle-green robe, loosely tied at the waist and with nothing else underneath. “I owned something like this back then,” he recalls. “In the 1500s, I think. It was always comfortable.”

Dream nods in approval and noses along the line of Hob’s jaw. “Good. Here you shall have every comfort.” He sinks his teeth in the skin beneath Hob’s ear with just enough pressure to make him shiver.

“I wish I could carry your marks with me to the Waking,” Hob says breathlessly.

Dream pulls back to meet his eyes, and for a second Hob wonders if had said something wrong.

“If you truly wish it, I can extend my consciousness to my physical form currently sleeping beside yours. I will make love to you in the Waking as I do here. And you will have my marks until your body heals them away.”

Hob feels his eyes widen, his heart thumping in his chest. And once again he wonders why they’d never done this before. “Will I be able to feel what you do to my physical body? Even here?”

Dream considers it. “I can put your consciousness in the liminal space between sleeping and waking, just enough for you to feel my touch in your realm. Is this what you wish?”

“Yes,” Hob whispers, absently realising that he has his hands clenched into fists on Dream’s robe.

“Very well.”

Dream closes his eyes, and suddenly Hob feels smooth hands trail slowly up his thighs, even when Dream hasn’t moved at all. Cool fingers wrap around his cock and he gasps, hips jerking up against Dream’s thigh.

“Did you vanish my clothes?”

“I did not think you would need them.” There’s an edge to Dream’s smile, and when he opens his eyes the blue has vanished too, replaced by pools of black with brilliant stars at the center.

Hob pulls him down for a kiss, and Dream opens up immediately. Hob loses himself in the feeling of their tongues against each other and Dream’s body undulating above him. They both still have their robes on, but Hob can feel a hand slowly stroking his cock, a mouth around his nipple. He hears a whimper that might have been his but never felt it leave his throat.

“Dream,” Hob gasps, hips stuttering against Dream’s thigh. The sensations in the Waking haven’t stopped, but with most of his consciousness here in the Dreaming they all feel distant, like a vivid memory that can never live up to the real thing. “Touch me. Here.”

“As my love commands.” Dream unties Hob’s robe with one hand before pressing their lips together again.

Hob sighs against the kiss as he feels Dream’s hand caress his torso, gliding lower and kneading the flesh of his thigh. He wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, runs his fingers through soft midnight hair that seems constantly ruffled by wind despite the lack of any breeze.

The sensations in the Waking stop abruptly, and before Hob could begin to wonder why, he feels teeth sink into the inside of his thigh.

“Ah!” Hob arches his back, breaking the kiss and pulling Dream’s hair. His cock twitches and he feels the heat of Dream’s mouth wrap around him—in the Waking. Hob moans in frustration, his cock hanging heavy and neglected in the open air. “Do you even have plans to fuck me here?”

“I am marking you in the Waking. That is what you wish, is it not?” Dream rakes his nails lightly across Hob’s chest, scraping a nipple and making Hob twitch.

“Just in the Waking? What happened to being greedy?” Hob quickly bunches up Dream’s robes, thrilled to find that there’s not a stitch of clothing underneath. He grabs Dream’s bare arse and pulls him flush against his groin.

Dream throws his head back with a shaky gasp, his eyes fluttering close.

Hob pulls him down and mouths at pale clavicles, licks at Dream’s icy throat and nips at his jawline.

Dream surges down to kiss him, and at the same time Hob feels his thighs being spread open in the Waking.

Dream's tongue reaches into him from both ends, soft and slick and far longer than any human tongue should be.

Hob squirms as he feels Dream’s tongue move inside him in the Waking, feeling full and empty all at once. He grips the back of Dream's neck, ruts against his cock.

Dream makes a wounded noise and returns the enthusiasm, grinding down hard until Hob’s sure they're carving a dent into the plush cushions.

Hob feels precome on his belly, and he needs Dream inside him now but he also needs him to never stop moving.

And then Dream does stop, even his movements in the Waking.

Hob opens his eyes, mind clouded in a haze of confusion and lust. He sees Dream looking around their surroundings and blinking.

Hob begins to realise that even though they're still on the same cushions, they're no longer in Dream’s bedroom.

The ceiling made of a starry night sky is replaced with an elaborate mosaic of figures that might be deities, and the marble walls are now stained glass windows letting in colorful sunlight that dapples on the steps leading down from where he and Dream are.

Dream shifts to his side to give Hob room to sit up and look around. He realises that they're on a raised platform overlooking a great hall with long tables and tall double doors at the far end. They're the only ones here, and the vastness of the place has a solemn quiet to it.

“Where are we?” Hob’s voice echoes softly.

“You brought us here, beloved.”

“What?” Hob frowns and looks around again, paying more attention to the details.

The wall behind them is painted with doves and bells so intricately that Hob can almost hear them, and he suddenly recognises that the deities depicted on the ceiling are who the townspeople considered the gods of marriage from about six centuries ago.

“This is a wedding hall,” Hob breathes. I brought us here to shag on the altar.

Dream blinks at him slowly. “Why did you choose this place?”

“I didn't mean to,” Hob scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I guess, um…” he feels his face warm up. He looks down and fidgets with the sheets. “I'm not proposing or anything, I don't even know what that would mean for you but… I s’pose I liked the symbolism of it. Us getting married…” He trails off and hesitantly meets Dream’s gaze again.

Dream is looking at him in bewilderment, and Hob feels panic rise in his throat, images of a rainy night and a black figure storming off flashing in his mind.

“Look, I can't control what my brain thinks,” he hurriedly says. “You can whisk us back to your room—”

Dream moves and pins him down on the cushions, claiming his lips with teeth and tongue and the intensity of the birth of a star.

Hob’s body quickly gets back with the program, whatever he was feeling before they got interrupted by the location change has come back in full force, and then some.

He grunts when he feels Dream slip a finger inside him, the sensation so vivid that it takes him a second to realise that it's happening in the Waking. Dream adds another finger, slick with the lube that Hob keeps in his nightstand drawer, or possibly dreamstuff, Hob doesn't really care. He grinds down on empty air here in the Dreaming, a moan of pleasure and need escaping him.

“You wish to be united with me in this manner?” Dream is actually breathless, and his form is starting to blur at the edges like a freshly made oil painting hanging on a lord’s wall.

He has a subtle glow about him, and Hob can believe that it's coming from the stars in his eyes that seem to burn brighter now. His dark hair ripples softly as if underwater. It's as if one of the gods from the mosaic came to life just to loom over Hob and look at him with utter adoration, as if Hob is the one worthy of worship.

“Of course I do.” Hob threads his fingers through Dream’s hair, caresses his face, his shoulders. Marvelling at how he's allowed to touch a being such as this. “I'll have you in all the ways you would allow,” he says quietly, reverently.

Dream presses their foreheads together. “Hob.” The syllable drops from his lips like a prayer and then he's kissing Hob again, their robes vanishing in an instant.

Hob cups Dream’s face in his hands, his eyes falling close as he inhales the scent of rain and ozone and fresh ink on paper.

He feels Dream's fingers pull out of him in the Waking, and his stomach clenches in anticipation.

The familiar shape of Dream's cock teases at his rim, and Hob realises with a gasp that it's here in the Dreaming.

Dream tenderly takes his hands and pins them beside his head on the pillow, their fingers lacing together.

Hob is already slick and soft and open, and his eyes roll back in his head when Dream slips in, filling him up inch by delicious inch as Dream’s lips move down to his neck. Their fingers remain intertwined, but Hob feels soft touches up and down his body, becoming more insistent as Dream thrusts deeper into him.

Hob’s eyes flutter open to see that shadows seem to be bleeding from Dream’s form, shaping into tendrils that act as his limbs. Hob doesn't even bother to try counting them, especially not when one tendril touches his nipple, flicking and rolling the hard nub until Hob is squirming and jerking his hips up to meet Dream’s thrusts.

The teeth that scrape and nip at his neck are definitely sharper than usual, and a shiver runs down Hob’s spine, prickling his skin with goosebumps and making his toes curl.

Dream tightens his grip on Hob's hands and slowly pulls out before slamming into him in both realms.

“AH–!” Hob arches his back, or tries to, but finds that the shadow tendrils are pinning him to the bed; wrapped around his waist, his arms, holding his thighs open as Dream continues to thrust into him.

Dream's face is pressed in the crook of Hob’s neck, making growling noises that could never come from a human throat.

Hob’s weeping cock twitches from what little friction Dream’s body is giving, unable to get any more of it no matter how much he strains against the tendrils. Dream slams into his prostate and Hob cries out a sob, tears forming in his eyes.

Dream slows down and pulls back to look at him, the tendrils loosening their hold. “Colour, my love?” His voice sounds wrecked.

“Green,” Hob whines, taking advantage of his mobility to raise his hips and take Dream deeper into him. “Green— Fuck, Please…”

Dream captures his lips in a searing kiss. The tendrils wrap around Hob once more, but this time they help him move, raising his hips to meet Dream each time, faster than what Hob would have been capable of on his own.

He can feel Dream's teeth on him in the Waking while he's being fucked into his own mattress; on his chest, his jawline, his neck, oh his neck, Dream is making good on his promise to mark him, sucking bruises onto the skin and soothing them with his tongue. When that tongue moves down to his nipples, Hob feels so keyed up that he can almost feel it in the Dreaming as well.

A tendril wraps around Hob’s cock and strokes him quickly while another one teases at the slit, and it's all too much and not nearly enough. Hob doesn't quite remember how to breathe, and he tightens his grip on Dream's hands as the tendrils manhandle him to buck and rut against his lover.

The air feels charged, like the moment before a lightning strike, and Dream is panting in Hob's ear as a sudden wind whistles through the wedding hall, the light from the stained glass windows changing colours rapidly as if the sun is moving erratically outside.

Seeing Dream so affected is what hurls Hob over the edge, and he comes with a roar that might have broken the windows but he can't hear anything else above his own voice and the pleasure lighting up his spine.

Dream speaks against his ear, soft lips almost caressing. “This dream is over.”

Hob slams back into the Waking with a strangled cry, frustration crashing over him when he realises that Dream has a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stopping his release even as Dream repeatedly fucks into him, his other hand bracing himself on the bed for leverage.

The whiplash of going from a mind-shattering orgasm to his cock heavy with wanting has Hob going half-mad.

“Dream–!” he digs his nails into Dream’s back, squirming as he tries to get free of Dream's iron grip, only succeeding in deepening the angle of Dream inside him.

“Shall I fuck you into unconsciousness, my lover?” Dream is in his human form again but his blue eyes are no less piercing. “I can take you here, and in my realm, going back and forth until you can no longer distinguish between Dreaming and Waking. Giving you endless pleasure in my realm where you will not tire, and holding back your release here until I decide that I am done with you.”

A full-body shiver runs through Hob; Dream's voice only stokes the fire already burning Hob from the inside, his words making Hob’s cock ache and twitch in desperation.

“You are mine, Hob Gadling,” Dream's hips stutter out of rhythm before speeding up. “Not to capture nor possess. But to adore and—ah—cherish. Mine to care for. Mine to love.” His eyelids flutter and his breaths are coming in pants. “Just as I am yours. To do with as you please.”

He thrusts deep and Hob cries out, his nails raking red lines across Dream's back.

A flash of concern appears on Dream's face as he looks down at him.

“Green, green!” Hob screams before Dream could even think to slow down. “Dream, my love, please…” he whimpers.

“Yes,” Dream says breathlessly, leaning down to kiss him. “Your love. Yours,” he says against Hob’s lips. He deepens the kiss as he strokes Hob’s cock in time with his thrusts.

Hob clenches his hands into Dream's hair, moaning wantonly in his mouth as his hips buck up and down of their own accord.

“With me, my love,” Dream gasps. He slams into Hob’s prostate and twists his hand.

Hob's vision goes white and he screams, his body thrashing under Dream as he spills and spills between them. He hears Dream’s guttural cry in his ear and it only flings him higher into his peak, where nothing else exists except the two of them and Dream’s spend filling him up more than he thought possible.

Their embrace tightens as they shake and tremble, listening to the sound of each other’s breaths as they begin to calm down, their chests heaving.

Dream gently slips out of him and they both groan at the sensation. “Have I fulfilled your expectations, my love?” he asks quietly, brushing away a lock of hair that had stuck to the sweat on Hob’s forehead.

Hob’s brain takes a few moments to understand the question. “Have… What…” he tries to form a coherent sentence while still catching his breath. “I only ever expect for both of us to feel good, and I think we'd been pretty vocal about that just now.”

Dream smiles, a soft thing that brightens up his face. “Indeed. And now, you must sleep,” he brushes a thumb across Hob's cheekbone. “You have been exhausted this week, and even immortal bodies need rest.”

Hob just hums. Given how his eyelids are already feeling heavy, he doesn't have much room to argue.

“Cuddle?” he manages, sleepily running his fingers through Dream's hair.

Dream leans into his touch. “Both here and in the Dreaming.”

Hob vaguely registers Dream waving his hand to clean them up, and then Dream is lying down beside him and snuggling close, tucking his head under Hob’s chin.

Hob wraps his arms around Dream, drifting off to sleep and smiling at what a lucky bastard he is.

———

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

62 notes · View notes

dartlekey · 2 years ago

Text

Keep it casual (Part 4)

(I’ll be posting this on ao3 once it’s done, if you want you can check out my other works until then!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Steve doesn't like it when Eddie looks at himself in the mirror.

Or rather, he doesn't like it when Eddie does it with this expression. It's been happening a lot, ever since he finally got the last of his bandages off - the doctor said the scars would fade with time, but there's a lot of tissue to fade, and Eddie's unhappiness is clear in the line between his brows and the pinched set of his mouth.

Steve gets up off the bed to stand behind him. His own scars are more hidden than Eddie's, but just as warped and plentiful - while his latest injuries were less severe, he's been dealing with the Upside Down so much longer than Eddie, and that adds up. "Put on a shirt," he gently tells Eddie, "you'll get cold."

Eddie relaxes marginally, and leans back until his shoulder blades bump into Steve's chest. Steve's arms come up automatically to wrap around his waist, and Eddie smiles teasingly. "Don't need to, when I have you to keep me warm."

Steve huffs, pretending to be annoyed, and presses his face into Eddie's shoulder. At this point, they're dating in everything but word, but they keep dancing along that line, stopping just shy of admitting how much they mean to each other, pulling back every time they're just about to kiss. It's like a little game between them, a dare of who's going to make the first move, and Steve will be damned if he's going to lose. "Come back to bed."

Eddie shivers at the words, but his eyes remain stubbornly fixed on the scars winding down his torso. "Don't wanna."

Steve considers picking him up and manhandling him onto the worn mattress, but then he has an idea. "Alright. Wanna get matching tattoos instead?"

Eddie blinks, and his eyes find Steve's in the mirror. "Are you serious?"

"One of Lilly's friends has a tattoo gun," Steve smiles, and Eddie scrunches up his nose. "You want me to get tattooed by a punk?"

"Unless you want me to give you a stick-and-poke."

"Ughhhh, fine," Eddie groans, "curse your shaky hands."

Steve drags his fingers up the sides of Eddie's ribs, eliciting a sharp inhale. "You like my shaky hands."

"No comment," Eddie says a bit breathlessly, and pushes him away to look for a shirt.

They find the punks at their usual spot behind the old theater, and Robin too, who launches out of Lilly's lap to greet Steve with a squeal and an enthusiastic hug.

"So this is your Eddie," Lilly says, giving Eddie a curious once-over, and Steve flushes. "He's not my Eddie," he grumbles, but Eddie immediately steps up between him and Robin with a, "hm, I don't know about that."

As the other punks laugh, and Steve attempts to regain access to his higher brain functions, Eddie continues blithely, "he said one of you had a tattoo gun?"

"Yeah, Theo does," Lilly says, gesturing with her head towards a kid littered with stick-and-pokes, who gives a small wave with a bandaged hand, "they recently busted their knuckles, though. I can do it instead if you want."

Eddie's answering smile is sharp and closed-off. "I'd just like the gun, if it's all the same to you. I'm quite capable of taking care of Steve myself."

A little bit more prepared this time, Steve notes with some confusion that Eddie's never been this forward before, or this aggressive. Lilly seems to share the same confusion, before her eyes suddenly widen and she says, "Shit, are you jealous, man? Because I can promise you there's nothing going on there. I'm a lesbian, and besides, I'm with Robin."

Eddie's stance relaxes instantly. "Sorry. I just had to be sure - those two share damn near everything, and with how much he's been talking about you lately…"

"Ew," Robin says beside him, and punches his shoulder, which just makes him laugh - Steve, on the other hand, is so overwhelmed that he has to wrap his arms around Eddie again, clinging to him like a five-year-old after a nightmare. "You can't just say shit like that," he complains hoarsely, and Eddie chuckles, eyes crinkling as he shoots Steve that teasing smile he likes to think is reserved just for him.

"Make me stop, then," Eddie challenges, just because he knows Steve won't.

They end up tattooing each other, Eddie showing Steve how to hold the gun, how to get (mostly) clean lines. The cartoon bat Steve draws next to the scar on his right side still turns out somewhat wobbly, but Eddie reassures him that it's just as perfect as the one Eddie put next to Steve's left bat scar.

It's wonderful, seeing the little critters through the cling wrap, turning something gruesome and horrible into something comedic and silly. Eddie's bat is right on the edge of his scar, curled around it with bulging eyes like it's biting into Eddie's side, while Steve's is a bit farther away, doing a little dance with a guitar around its neck.

"You know what the best thing is about this tattoo?", Eddie says, giddy and relaxed as he marvels at the new addition. "If we hug like this," he says, and bumps their waists together, "the bats are giving each other a little high five."

Steve stares at Eddie for exactly five seconds. Then, he says, "I'm so in fucking love with you," and kisses Eddie so hard they both nearly fall off the old couch they're perched on.

If you want to be on the tag list or I forgot to tag you, please reach out in the comments!

Tag list: @corrodedcoughin, @heartrenderharrington, @spookednsaucy, @elyondelannoy, @dilutedpondwater, @ediewentmissing, @fandomz-brainrot, @didntwant2come, @this-is-moony-lovegood, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @thinkinginnoisesandcolours, @anonymousbandgirl, @f1ct1onwh0re, @babygirlstevesstuff, @eboyawstenn, @tailsfromthecrypt, @messrs-weasley, @estrellami-1, @newtstabber, @shrimply-a-menace, @hey-rowan, @m-owo-n, @darkwitchoferie, @iwouldsail, @escapingthereality, @hotluncheddie, @lovelylilbadone, @korixae, @certified--catboy, @s-a-d-isfied, @fruity-nerd , @stevesbipanic, @5ammi90, @evix-syne666, @nerdsconquerall, @maya-custodios-dionach, @bisexualdisastersworld, @fantrash, @nelotegreitic, @redfreckledwolf, @plasticcrotches

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #punk!steve #babypunk!steve #punk steve harrington #dropped my keys #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #5+1 fic

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lilacxquartz · 6 days ago

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Ever since Don’t Make Me Feel Alive ended, I feel like this void has developed in my heart. I saw your ask detailing that Kenjaku might be good for being a caretaker and I made the connection that this is why I also liked this story so much. A slow realization of feelings of a morally wrong character who tries to keep the reader or love interest safe. Would it be a reach for me to request more content like this? I know Kenjaku is morally wrong but I really enjoy reading about the soft parts.

hi anon! i get you 100%, there is something very special about kenjaku (and villains in general) being written/portrayed in a nurturing role. i feel like it makes them somehow even more terrifying but it also gives them more depth than just being an evil character.

& no, it wouldn’t be a reach imo to request something more like this! i’ve been thinking about it (because i think about kenjaku a lot haha) and, i have a few scenarios in mind.

you know me, you know the drill, extensive yapping up ahead—

the first fic that i’m on and off considering writing, is like, the reader has the flu, so their cold, usually emotionally distant partner suddenly becomes so sickly sweet and nurturing. this throws us all off for a beat but kenjaku would be very good at it. probably has the best soup recipe stored up in that millennia old brain ever known to man. the dark fic writer in me tells me that the reader would try to make themselves feel sick to get more affection so it becomes a toxic relationship fic.

the second one is purely platonic, but let’s consider you work for or with them routinely and are friends, but you’re getting old. they’re in their third vessel of the century and therefore they’re still young and kicking but you don’t have such an option. i’d like to think that behind that villainous front, that they would either be neutral or caring for the people they don’t mind/tolerate, but they would do it in a completely tsundere or annoyed way.

like tutting when you can’t keep up with them. showing up with a walking stick one day and making you use it because your wobbly walking posture bothers them. replacing your mattress and pillows while you’re out on an errand because you don’t need back problems on top of what you already have. making you drink some sort of rancid concoction that they claim is good for your brittle bones. dumping a 5kg crate of tangerines at your doorstep as soon as winter begins.

finally, maybe, this one’s a bit dark. i’m considering this one for the upcoming yandere nightmares entry, but, taking very good care of a reader that they might consider as a vessel in the future. like it’s going to be their body too, so they show up in your life at some point and make it a whole show to keep you as physically and mentally healthy as possible.

but there’s a problem. they actually find that they like you as a person, so it hurts to do so, so they start to, like, reverse caretake. they try to give themselves excuses to not take you over because your body is becoming worn from all of those snacks they keep giving you or those late nights they forced you to stay up, or from damaging your knees or back after making you carry all of those boxes. but at the same time, they like you, so it’s a back and forth losing battle.

maybe one for a chapter of chasing humanity where the reader catches a cold and they have to reluctantly take care of her too, i feel like that could be a good relationship development chapter.

but yeah!! it is very encouraging also to see more people be into nurturing kenjaku by the way. if this is a desired theme, then i’m happy to write more about kenjaku in these types of situations however many times possible. <3

#asks #kenjaku #headcanons #plotting mostly

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layce2015 · 11 months ago

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Sneak Peek #2 for The Boys Fic (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

(A/n: Soooo…hey everybody! I know it has been awhile since my last post, which announced that I was gonna do a The Boys fic, and I am sorry for the wait. For anyone wondering, yes I am still doing it I’ve just been dealing with every writer’s worst nightmare….Wirter’s Block!

Mainly it’s cause the show doesn’t give a whole lot of Soldier Boy’s backstory and I’ve been adding some flashbacks into my fic that shows how Soldier Boy and (y/n) interacted. But all we got of Soldier Boy’s past is from other people’s perspective and maybe some mentions from the man himself. So it has been a rough to come up with scenarios from little information we got. So I stepped back from it for a bit. But now I’m back on working on it and I have at least two and a half chapters written out and it’s supposed to have at least 8 chapters. But it could be more if Soldier Boy ends up appearing in season 4.

Anyway, to prove that I am working on this fic, here is another sneak peek for the fic.)

"Well, we got to talk. I think I have something, thanks to my informant." Maeve said and she hands him a folder. "Informant?" Butcher asked as he takes the file and opens it to see some pages of information and pictures of Soldier Boy. "Soldier Boy. So what?" Butcher said as he looks up at her.

"Remember how he died?" Maeve asked him. "Stopping a nuclear meltdown in Ohio. '83, '84, I think, got buried beneath a reactor. Always thought it was bollocks." Butcher said. "Yeah, you thought right. Read." She tells him and he reads the file.

"What's B.C.L. RED?" He asked. "If you believe the rumors, it's the thing that killed Soldier Boy. My informant said it's some kind of gun or weapon or something. Had to have been a fսcking H-bomb. He was nearly as strong as..." Maeve said as Butcher looks through the file and looks at some pictures.

"If we can find this...weapon or whatever it is, maybe we can use it to blow Homelander's fսcking brains out." Maeve said. "If it is real, not some fսcking fable." Butcher said then he picks up the team-up picture of Payback. "Payback." Butcher mutters before he scoffs. "What a bunch of fսcking wankеrs." He said as he stares at photo. "When The Seven passed them as the number one super team, Crimson Countess sent me a box of cat shit. But not all of them were bad. She was a close friend of Soldier Boy and his ex-girlfriend." Maeve said as she gestures to the photo and points at the red-haired woman in the red outfit who was standing on the right of Soldier Boy.

"And, uh, Gunpowder was his sidekick." She said as she points at the young teen who was standing at Soldier Boy's left. "If anyone knows what happened to him, they do." Maeve said while Butcher noticed Noir in the photo. "Your mate Noir was in Payback. Why don't you ask him?" He asked her and Maeve scoffs. "Even if that walking tumor could talk, it wouldn't be to me." She said and Butcher looks at the photo again and noticed a woman standing on the other side of Gunpowder.

She looked about in her late twenties, her long (h/c) hair was braided and she was wearing a dark blue body-suit and a gold belt and knee high boots, a matching cape on her shoulders.

"Is that...?" Butcher started to ask and Mavee nodded. "Mystic Shade, yeah." She said. "Haven't heard that name in years." Butcher said and Maeve shrugs. "She retired sometime after Soldier Boy's death. She was fucking Soldier Boy." Maeve said as Butcher flips to another photo and this one was of Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade together. They were both smiling and Mystic Shade was hugging Soldier Boy as he had an arm around her waist.

Butcher then looks at Maeve. "Well then, I should be visiting her, not these two knobs." Butcher said but Maeve shakes her head. "No, Mystic Shade is off limits." She said, firmly, and Butcher gives her a curious look. "And why is that, princess?" Butcher asked and Maeve just glares at him.

Suddenly, it clicks with him. "Mystic Shade is your informant, isn't she?" He asked and Maeve averts his gaze and he smiles, knowing he was right. "Fine! Yes, she was the one that gave me this information. But she told me, specifically, that she didn't want to be questioned because this is all she wanted to give." Maeve said and Butcher watches her. "So, please, don't go bothering her." Maeve demanded.

"Well, well, well, didn't know you had such a soft spot for Mystic Shade." Butcher said and Maeve sighs. "We've been in communication for almost a year. Then when she heard about Homelander and all the fucked up things he's done and how I want him gone, she provided this." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look that basically said he knew there was more to it.

"Fine, she was one of the heroes I looked up to when I was a kid, okay! Unlike most of these assholes, she actually cares about people." Maeve said. "Oh, I doubt that." Butcher said. "Doubt it all you want but it's the truth." Maeve said as she digs into her purse and pulls out a little bag. "Here." She said and Butcher takes the bag, unzips it and sees small vials of green liquid.

"What's this?" He asked her. "It's Temp V. One shot makes you a Supe for 24 hours. I mean, they think. It's still in R&D." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look. "Oh, great, so powers, maybe. Maybe my bollocks swell up like footballs. Yeah?" Butcher said, sarcastically. "Payback may be a bunch of fսck holes, but they're strong. And they're dangerous. If you're going against them, you're gonna need it." Maeve warns.

"And what makes you think that me, of all people, would want to turn into one of you?" Butcher asked her as he takes a step closer to her. "This is our best chance to kill Homelander. Don't fսck it up." She said.

(A/n: And here is another peek, this is one of the flashbacks.)

I walk up to the stage as Doctor Vought was at the microphone, talking. Then he turns to me and holds his arm out to me. “Now please welcome the new hero, Mystic Shade!” He said and I push back all of my negative emotions and smile and wave as I walk up to him while the crowd applauded.

I go to Dr. Vought and he shakes my hand then kisses both of my cheeks then leads me to the microphone. Once I get to the microphone, Dr Vought said. “Now, Mystic Shade, will be taking questions.”

And a flood of voices saying over here, over here chanted out and Vought points to a random person. “Yes, you there!” He calls out. “How does it feel to be selected to join by Dr. Vought?” A male voice called out. “Um, it is an incredible opportunity here. And I’m very excited to join.” I replied then more raised hands and voices. Dr Vought pointed out to a different man.

“When did you first discover your powers?” The second man asked me. “I was about fifteen or sixteen years old when I found out. I guess I was alway born with them it just didn’t develop until I became a teenager.” I replied. “And what are they? I mean, what can you do?” The man asked. “Well, I’m strong, I can move objects without touching them and I can make shields to protect myself and people around me.” I replied and there was a series of ooh’s and aah’s across the crowd.

Then another round of hands shooting up in the air and Dr Vought points at another hand. "So, are you gonna help out with the war? If so, how does it feel to be the first woman to be out in the field?" The third man asked. "It is something I never would've imagined but I want to help out not just the country but the people who are involved." I said then another man calls out.

"So what's it feel like to achieve everything you hoped for?" He asked and I paused at this. Truth is I didn't achieve anything, this is all a lie. I wanted to scream that out so badly but I couldn't as I stood there frozen. "I-I, uh..." I stammered then Vought comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sure she feels fantastic. She's being very modest right now. Not being used to this kind of attention can make anyone freeze. So let's give a hand for our new hero!" Vought said and there was applause and I give a small, weak smile.

Minutes later, I walk out on the balcony and took in a deep breath then let it out. Being in that ballroom suffocated me. I lean against the stone railings of the balcony and took in some quick breathes until anger rose in my chest and I slam my fists down on it, making the stone crack. "Whoa-ho, remind me not to make you angry." A male voice said, a bit of a laugh in his tone.

I jumped at this, not expecting anyone out here, and look to my left to see a man, in a army uniform with a long coat, standing some feet away from me. "I'm not in the mood to talk." I grumbled and I look out on the balcony. "I figured. Saw you up on that stage....and well, here..." he said and I look over at him and see him holding a bottle out to me. "You need this more than me."

"Did you steal that from party?" I asked him. "More like borrowing." He said, shrugging, and I chuckled a bit then take the bottle from him. "Thank you." I said and I begin to drink from it. "I'm guessing rough day?" He asked me. “You could say that.” I muttered and I take another drink from the bottle.

“These Vought parties are never what the public thinks they are. The only good things here are the food, the booze…and the pretty women.” He said and he gives me a flirtatious smile. I giggled a little and smile, which I just realized is my first genuine smile I’ve made in months. “I’m flattered but…I’m married.” I tell him and he has a surprised look on his face.

”I don’t believe that.” He said and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And why is that?” I asked him. “No sane man, especially a husband, would leave you out here on your own.” He said and I laugh a little again. “Maybe, I wanted to be alone.” I said and he shrugs a little. “You may have a point. But, even so, shouldn’t be out here alone. Some stranger could try to chat you up.” He said. “Like you?” I asked him, smiling, and he chuckles.

”Yeah…” he mutters and we share a small laugh then he holds his hand out to me. “I’m Ben.” He introduces and I take his hand. “(Y/n).” I said as we shake hands. “(Y/n), beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He said and I give a bashful smile to him. “Thank you.” I said then he kisses the back of my hand and I felt my heart leap in my chest.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, not since I married my husband.

“So, you happily married?” He asked me and my smile falters. “Judging by that frown, I’m guessing not.” Ben said and I sighed. “Just…going through a tough time right now.” I said. “That’s why I never married, when the tough times come in, there’s nothing to tie you down.” Ben said and I nod at this. “I’m starting to think that’s a good idea.” I said before I drink from the bottle again.

At that moment, we hear the door open behind us and I look over my shoulder to see it was Adam. “There you are.” Adam said as he comes up to me. Then he looks over at Ben and seems surprised. “Oh, I see you’re talking to your teammate.” He said and I furrow my brow. “Huh?” I said and Adam places an arm around my shoulder. “This is Soldier Boy. Your partner in the war.” Adam tells me and I was surprised by this.

I have heard the name Soldier Boy but I didn’t know what he looked like since I was trapped in that lab for the last few months.

I look over at Ben and he gives me a smile. “Surprise?” He asked me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not recognizing you, sir.” I said to him. “It’s fine, just don’t go forgetting my face now.” He said, smiling, and I chuckled. “I most certainly will not.” I said and he nods.

”Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure I’m needed in there.” Ben said as he gestures to the door. And I felt a little sad about him leaving, I was kinda enjoying his company. “You two have a good evening.” Ben said as he walks over to the door. “And you as well.” Adam said then Adam turns to me as I look out on the balcony.

”I see you already starting the night off.” Adam said, gesturing to the bottle of champagne in my hands, but I don’t respond as I look over my shoulder in time to see Ben go to the door. It seemed he sensed me and he looks over his shoulder at me then smiles and gives me a wink before he walks in.

My heart absolutely fluttered at this and I felt my face go red before I look back out on the balcony.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #fan fic writing #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #the boys tv #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy #sneak peak

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chishiyashoodie · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Chishiya x female!reader

Genre: fluff/angst

Warnings: mentions of exploding heads

Word count: 696

Author’s note: idek what this is but not being able to sleep makes me daydream and here I am. Also, ignore any misspellings pls

You woke up to a worried Chishiya. You had been tossing and turning and he got worried. You were having nightmares lately but this one felt too real.

“Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?”

You nodded

“Tell me about it”

You stopped for a second, trying to remember it.

“Hmm… It was very odd. You and I were in a prison with other people”

“A prison?”

“Yes but not as inmates. We also had collars around our necks. Black collars. Each of them showed an image on the back but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was blurry”

“Go on”

“At some point we went to this other room that had lots of food in it, some sort of dispensary”

“Hmm”

“You were standing by yourself eating biscuits”

“Sounds like me!” he said proudly.

“Hold up, don’t get too excited about the biscuits because we had to go into some cells and some of the other people’s head just…exploded”

“Their heads exploded?”

“Yeah, the collars were bombs or something similar”

“Did my head explode?”

“Oh my god, no”

“Did yours?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

“Shuntarō!. No, mine didn’t explode either”

He stroke your face giving you a smile.

“It’s okay. The nightmare is over. We are okay. I have no idea what that dream means but it’s over”

“You are right”

“Come on, let’s make you a tea”

You sat near the kotatsu in the living room while Chishiya prepared your tea. For some reason, a nice milky tea always put you to sleep when you weren’t able to.

He sat down besides you and handed you the tea.

“Thank you”

You took a sip of your tea. It almost burned your tongue.

“Shuntarō”

“Huh? Is it too hot?”

“Don’t worry about the tea. I just remembered something from after the moment the meteor hit”

“Go on”

“I just remember names, I can’t put a face on them though”

“What names?”

“Arisu…Usagi…” your face was looking frightened as you spoke their names “Kuina…Ann…”

He stared into your eyes. Thinking for a second.

“Why do they sound so familiar? I felt something in my chest while mentioning them” you continued

“I have no idea” he muttered “they must be people from work”

“No. Nobody in my workplace has any of those names”

“Then, I’m not sure, angel. Don’t worry too much, it was just a dream and nothing happened to my biscuits”

“Is that all you gathered from my nightmare? Biscuits?!”

“Yes. Which reminds me I have some in the kitchen. You drink your tea and try to go back to sleep”

“Don’t go” you asked him. “I need to tell you something”

“Yes?” he said sitting back down next to you.

“Ever since we almost lost our lives back then, you’ve been…different”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good different. You have changed, for the better. It makes me so happy. You are more cheerful, smile more, your eyes have light in them. Don’t get me wrong, I love moody Shuntarō, but I love this version of you even more”

He smiled while stroking your cheek.

“I guess almost losing my life and almost losing you changed something in my brain. It made me realise my life has a purpose, whether it is to take care of you or to help others without being told who to help. It makes me grateful that I was given a second chance even though I don’t deserve it”

You stopped him

“Everybody deserves a second chance. Everybody”

“I’ve done some bad things, really bad things”

“You were following orders, Shuntarō”

“I know. But I still did them. I want to take this second chance and turn my life around. I’m going to quit my job or ask to be transferred to other hospital”

“That’s my boy, do whatever you think it’s right for you”

“Do you think this is the right decision?”

“Absolutely! Step by step, okay? I’ll be by your side every step of the way. We’ll do this together”

He kissed you softly.

“I love you so much”

Now that was something you’ve never heard from him so it caught you by surprise

“I love you too, more than anything”

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phantom-playdough · 2 years ago

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Macaque x GN!Reader: Comforting

EDITOR NOTE FOR TITLE

Changed the title cause I WANTED to use the quote: "You're worrying me..." But I completely FORGOT about that line, LOL

Didn't know what else to call it, but it is LITERALLY 2:00 am, so this is the best I could come up with.

===========================================

This is my first post on this Tumblr blog, and I thought it would be super fun to write something for Macaque cause I adore this boi. I also noticed that there is a distinct lack of hurt/comfort fanfics for him on every platform I am on. So I will do it myself.

TWs: Mentions of nightmares, a lot of trouble eating and sleeping, the reader struggling with self-care in general, angst(?) in the beginning and middle, but there will be sweet fluff and confessions at the end to make up for it! I will add to these warnings if need be.

==========================================

Macaque tried to let it slide at first. He really did. But it was almost 3pm and Y/n was still sleeping...! Normally, he would probably just assume they went to sleep late the night before or something. But the thing is... this has been happening for over a month now.

It worried Macaque because his first thought was that something was wrong with Y/n’s sleep.

As the clock ticked on, closer and closer to late afternoon, he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and went to wake Y/n up.

When Macaque opened the door, he realized he had not been in Y/n’s room in a while. It was rather messy, to say the least. Clothes were thrown on the chair and desk and were lying on the floor. There were small wrappers all over the dresser.

Even though Y/n was lying in bed, it was super messy. Some of the blankets and pillows were lying on the floor around the bed, and one of the plushies that previously was on the bed was somehow thrown to the other side of the room, in front of Macaque's feet at the bedroom door.

Macaque picked up the plushie and slowly approached the bed, placing it by Y/n's feet. When he looked at Y/n's face, Macaque noticed their face twist into a look of discomfort. Their eyes were screwed shut and they groaned like a zombie.

It didn't take a brain scientist or rocket surgeon to figure out what was happening to Y/n in their mind. Macaque wanted nothing more than to wake them up; he wanted to relieve them of whatever horrors they were dreaming about. But he bit his tongue and held back, knowing better than he probably should that being woken up during a nightmare can cause more harm than good.

The mental image of Y/n being woken up, crying or even screaming because Macaque was too selfish made his heart clench. He just decided to wait by his best friend's side, even though his heart raced so fast it almost made his ears ring.

Macaque gently grabbed Y/n's hand, swallowing his pride, and rubbed gentle circles onto their skin. He couldn't say how much time had passed as he watched Y/n, his heart breaking as he saw them grow antsier in their dream.

Finally, Y/n opened their eyes. They squinted at the sun shining through their bedroom window. They looked over at Macaque, seeing that he didn't even bother trying to hide the fear on his face. It was only then that they noticed Macaque's hand on their own as his grip tightened slightly. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it showed that he was very scared.

Y/n simply spoke in a hoarse voice, "Hey, Macaque." They then cleared their throat. "What are you doing in my room? Is something wrong?"

Macaque adverted his eyes, glancing around. He had a smirk on his face to try and hide his anxiety. "I, uh... I was actually kinda hoping you could tell me that."

Y/n shrugged. "Nothing new." They said as they slowly sat up. Before Macaque could question what they meant, Y/n turned to him and spoke with a slight blush. "Mind if I get dressed?"

Macaque blushed and cleared his throat. "Yeah, sure. Take your time. I'll go make you some lunch."

"Don't you mean breakfast?" Y/n asked, clearly unaware of the time.

"Breakfast doesn't happen past three, Y/n." Macaque said with a smirk. He then left the room. Y/n sighed as they checked the clock.

Sure enough, 3:15pm.

Y/n dug through the piles of clothes on their desk and chair. They finally landed on an outfit they had worn a few days this week. While they were aware they should do laundry, the thought was too depressing to commit to. The idea of all the clothes to sort through and self-loathing over not doing the laundry sooner made Y/n shiver in discomfort.

The aroma of eggs on the frying pan, mango juice, and waffles filled the air in the kitchen. Y/n felt their mouth water, their stomach growled so loudly that it alerted Macaque of their presence.

"Hungry?" Macaque asked with a chuckle. Y/n nodded sheepishly.

"I thought you said breakfast doesn't happen past three." Y/n pointed out with a sweet smile. Macaque found himself staring at that perfect smile for longer than he should've been. He snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the eggs.

"I don't remember saying that!" Macaque played dumb to see if he could get a reaction from Y/n. He did.

Y/n laughed lightly, before their expression turned soft. "Thanks, Macaroni." Y/n was the ONLY person that could call him that. Period.

There was a small silence that followed as Macaque focused on finishing the cooking.

Eventually, it was all done, and the pair started eating. Although, Y/n suddenly felt very full, despite only eating less than five bites. They pushed the food on their plate around, trying to motivate themself to eat. But for some strange reason, the smell of delicious food that made them want to eat a mountain suddenly made them never want to touch food again.

It was all so confusing, these feelings. Macaque noticed that Y/n lacked the sparkle in their eyes as they stared down at their plate. He heard another loud gurgle from Y/n's stomach, but they didn't make an effort to eat.

"Does it taste that bad?" Macaque chuckled as he asked to hide his disappointment.

"No! No, no, no! I-it tastes good, I swear!" Y/n yelled, their hands waving in front of them frantically. "I just have been having trouble eating lately! Sometimes I feel really hungry and everything, but I--"

Macaque grabbed Y/n's hands in an attempt to stop their loud rambling. It worked, thankfully. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm not mad." Macaque said a soft and sweet tone in his voice. "How about I save your food for you?" Macaque was reaching for Y/n's plate, but he still waited for them to say something, to not pressure them.

There were a couple seconds of small silence, but eventually, Y/n nodded once. Macaque frowned for a moment, but he smiled again as fast as he could to hide his fear deep inside. He took the plate and saved the food; the two were worried, even if for different reasons.

Y/n felt scared of the idea of telling Macaque was wrong because they didn't even know what was wrong!

Meanwhile, Macaque was trying to figure out just that. Things were so good only a month ago, but slowly, Y/n fell back. It worried him so much because Y/n and he had become so close over the time they had known each other.

Macaque hadn't expressed it much, but Y/n had helped him in ways he never thought possible! They helped him overcome his insecurities. They helped him grow more comfortable with touches that didn't involve fighting. Heck, they even helped him become friendly enough to do things like offer a stranger on the street a small smile!

Macaque didn't like the fact that he was unable to help Y/n at the moment. He felt that problems were meant to be solved. He wanted nothing more than to scoop Y/n up and pepper them with kisses. To give them comfort for whatever was troubling them. But he didn't want to scare them off.

The two of them had been friends for so long. Macaque didn't know he could feel this level of love for someone since...him. Even though Macaque knew Y/n long enough to know that he loved them, he didn't know if that was reciprocated.

But it was. Y/n was just as afraid of the idea of Macaque not feeling the same way, so they made their affection as subtle as possible so they wouldn't ruin the friendship. When they first met Macaque, he was so bruised deep inside. Y/n refused to call him broken the entire time they had known him. Because he was so much stronger inside than he ever thought.

But now, Y/n felt much more bruised than they had in a long time. It scared them.

Eventually, everything was cleaned up and put away. Y/n was still sitting at the table when Macaque walked over to them and offered them his hand.

Y/n gave him a confused look. But they trusted him and placed their hand in his. Macaque pulled them out of their chair and led them to the couch. He sat the two of them down and very gently wrapped an arm around Y/n's shoulder to pull them close to him. He leaned them back, and Y/n curled their legs up onto the couch and leaned on him.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, their faces beet red and hearts racing a million miles a second. But eventually, Macaque couldn't handle the silence anymore. He turned his head to look at Y/n, bringing a hand up to hold their face to meet his gaze.

"You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right...?" Macaque whispered the last word so softly that it made Y/n's stomach flip.

They nodded one time. But they knew that kind of response just wouldn't cut it. Y/n sighed and pulled their head away from Macaque's grip.

"I know I can tell you. But I don't even know what I know to tell you. For some reason, I have felt really out of it the past couple of weeks. I want to eat, but I can't. I need to sleep, but I get nightmares. I...I want to hug you, but I am scared."

Not even a second after that last sentence left Y/n's lips, Macaque grabbed them and hugged them as though they would disappear. "You don't have to be scared, Y/n. I...I don't usually do this. Expressing myself, I mean. But with you, it's different." Macaque laughed just a little bit. "I don't usually let people get as close to me as you. I trust you to call me Macaroni. I let you touch me. I...I let myself love you."

At that moment, Y/n smiled wider than they had probably all their life. They pulled away and looked Macaque in his gorgeous eyes. "I let myself love you too." Macaque smiled, and he looked from Y/n's eyes to their lips. Y/n got the hint pretty quickly, and the two of them slowly leaned in.

Macaque and Y/n were a hair away from kissing, but Macaque still mumbled over the thick silence, "Are you sure?" Y/n answered by closing the distance and kissing him. It was short, and they pulled away too soon for Macaque's liking. He pulled them back in but gave Y/n room to break away should they choose to.

They didn't.

Eventually, the pair parted for air. Macaque took Y/n's hands and held a look of love on his face that made Y/n feel like royalty. How many people got to see this side of him? Sadly, not enough.

"I'm willing to work with you on what's bothering you. I can't fix this overnight," Macaque said sadly but smiled as he continued. "But I mean, you helped me. I might as well try and return the favor."

Y/n smiled, kissed one of his ears, and whispered, "I'd like that."

#six eared macaque #monkie kid macaque #macaque x reader #macaque x y/n #referenced shadowpeach

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byberbunk2069 · 14 days ago

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Top 10 Albums tag game

I was tagged by @streetkid-named-desire to list my top 10 albums

I tag @gibson-girlboss, @medtech-mara, & @luvwich

In no real order:

Transverse City by Warren Zevon

Released in 1989 the album, while not explicitly called cyberpunk by Warren Zevon, is pretty clearly there. I think this analysis covers it pretty well.

The lyrics from the title track itself also made me think immediately of Night City so I suppose to CDPR's credit they did a good job of making a shithole town comparable to a Warren Zevon track.

2. Beat the Bastards by The Exploited

I wouldn't really call myself a fan of the Exploited but that album has a lot of nostalgia to me because my dad somehow got a hold of an advanced copy of the CD back in 1996. The Exploited have a lot to say about Society in this album so I can get behind that.

3. Hackers: Original Soundtrack - 25th Anniversary Edition

The movie is like one of those Mondo magazines come to life. A cyberpunk-lite flick, its probably one of the better pieces of media in that genre (altho Strange Days is my number one cyberpunk movie, I'm sorry Blade Runner) and - besides the fashion - I think the soundtrack does a lot of the heavy lifting.

4. Streets of Fire

The movie and its soundtrack altered my brain chemistry.

5. Tactical Neural Implant by Front Line Assembly

The whole album is simultaneously diegetic to a typical cyberpunk nightmare world but also the soundtrack to a cyberpunk movie we never really got (Mindphaser does sample RoboCop 2 heavily so I suppose for the murky area of sampling and copyright you can't hear this in anything).

6. Ain't It Dead Yet? by Skinny Puppy (flashing images)

We are too far gone now to have a Skinny Puppy concert movie directed by either Frank Henenlotter, Brian Yuzna, or Stuart Gordon. But this still works. Also this is one of my favorite live albums.

7. It's My Life by Talk Talk

This makes me nostalgic for a summer that I've never experienced.

8. Mezzanine by Massive Attack

For a very long time my parents had this album and the very first track always stuck out to me as a kid. Fast forward a decade or two and I started my first attempt at playing VtM:B and the menu music sounded so familiar (learning that allegedly the guy who did the soundtrack was told "yeah we can't get the rights to this Massive Attack song so can you make one like it"). Although Risingson was the track I was most obsessed with for a while.

So long story short I'm obsessed with this group.

9. Forever by Cranes

I'm not usually a fan of that vocal style and I usually find it grating but somehow with Cranes it works for me.

This is another album that makes me think of an idealised version of the summer season. The second track, Cloudless is a personal fav.

10. Dead Can Dance by... Dead Can Dance

Bangin', pre-dates the wiccan/witchy revival nonsense of the mid-late 1990s but feels like it could have been on the soundtrack to the Craft.

honorable mentions: Bloodletting by Concrete Blonde, Tabula Rasa by Einsturzende Neubauten, Fat of the Land by The Prodigy, and Ecophony Rinne by the musical collective, Geino Yamashirogumi

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grayskiesandink · 11 months ago

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Gonna do obscure n random hcs-

Dream has a soft spot for twins. He sees twins an gets nostalgic n sad/ most people portray ink as evil-soulless guy thats lying but i think he'd mostly be happy and having fun with life/I personally cannot see ink or classic as anything BUT aroace. I physically cannot. / when people touch error they lose their lineart and it feels soo weird. Kinda like when a hand falls asleep. / most afterdeath kids dont have the death touch, but a few like greape, anubis, or ancolie do/ nightmare isnt the nightmare dream grew up with. Hes literally a different person- a sorta parasite that took over passives body through the apples/ to go along with that last one nm and fresh resent each other. Fresh has fun with it, but nightmare hates his entire being and sees him a threat./ error is soo silly. Literally just having fun with himself until someone comes along n messes it up by having opinions or existing.

first I will say I love these headcanons/opinions these are great !!!! spinning these around in my brain. now for if they match up with my own B) all interpretations are valid interpretations Dream and twins: I've actually been thinking about something similar lately!! In my mind, its almost a trigger for him? If he sees two identical twins it Will make him think about his past, if not just make him feel..... sad. feel as if he's missing something. Ink isn't evil?: I 100% AGREE. you. you understand him. he's just a silly guy living his life. i personally like putting him in situations that reveal his morality (which, to others in the multiverse, appears grey. in short, he's a character who has the morality of a creator. there's more to it. but, hes interesting! he's interesting). I like exploring all angles of him and his views and morality and character and bwghkrgbirhwbg but really hes just a guy. just a guy having a good time yknow. or trying. AroAce Ink & Sans Classic: I pretty much fully agree with this, just with the change that I can't see them as being anything but on the aroace spectrum. I see Sans as biromantic asexual, bi aroace, or aroace. Ink is the one who I often just see as aroace, and really more often just see him as just that. Error's touch causing loss of lineart: I haven't ever thought of this before but I LOVE IT SM. will be thinking of this.... I also like the idea of physical touch not just hurting Error but affecting whoever touched them.

AfterDeath kids and Death's Touch: I actually don't know a lot about AfterDeath ship kids! So, I haven't really thought much about them. I do think that any kids of reaper and geno would have something weird around death though, maybe not death touch but something similar. Nightmare isn't Nightmare?: I actually really don't like Nightmare and passive not being the same person. Personally, I feel like there is a way you could rewrite Dreamtale to make it work better, but it would have to be a significant rewrite (which people do and I love it when they do). It just feels like... something often gets lost with Nightmare's story when he isn't the same person, at least in some way. I personally like the idea that Nightmare himself doesn't see himself as passive. He sees himself as having killed that part of him, or something like that. Or, I can see Nightmare having dissociated away from that part of himself. Or, I can see Nightmare being like "yeah I'm nightmare I'm the nightmare you knew, Dream. this is what you've done, this is what you've made". In any case, they are the same person in at least some way to me. Nightmare and Fresh resent each other: This is really cool with the idea of both Nightmare and Fresh being parasites. It's not a headcanon I have, since I don't see Nightmare that way. I think Nightmare is just kinda mildly annoyed by Fresh- Fresh thinks Nightmare is fun to mess with. Nm rarely ever destorys aus (because he needs aus to feed on) so Fresh doesn't see him as a threat. Error is silly: YES. well. ok. sometimes. Error takes his job seriously..... sometimes..... like cq has said Error is contradictory he doesn't make sense he's not supposed to make sense. I think sometimes Error's silly with it sometimes he's not. overall he is just a silly guy though !!

#ask #i love hearing other peoples hcs sm #i love hearing diff interpretations #my askbox and dms are always open for dicussions on headcanons #also i need to look up those afterdeath kids

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jyushi-thoughts · 1 year ago

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have you watch the Takoyaki Party? how do you like it? I'm kinda satisfied cause I'm surprised by the descriptions about Totoko's growth��she's such a nice girl who loves fish as always☺️☺️

OOC: I have! Funny you send me this ask, I was just about to talk about it on my main! EXTREMELY LONG RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Ahh what a sweet little movie.. While the wacky shenanigans are my favorite part of this show, I always still love a slice of life "nothing happens" kind of plot. And it couldn't have come at a better time honestly. I've been feeling like Totoko a lot lately.

As a character, Totoko hasn't really been focused on in depth very often, but it's clear that she's always had a problem with comparing herself to others. She always wants to be better than everyone else, and feels self conscious about it. She's also always trying to force herself into feminine stereotypes that don't really fit her personality or interests. It's nice to see that explored a little more here, though it's osomatsu san so they won't get too deep into it of course.

She's anxious at the pressure to become a "real adult" like Nyaa and her brother Fighting Yowai are. Specifically the focus here seems to be on having children. I mean when you really think about it, that's the supposed "end goal" of being what society says is a "proper adult" yknow? Especially for women. She's clearly feeling kinda behind when she's seeing Nyaa chan be an independent single mother, and now with her brother coming home with his wife and new baby. Totoko is nowhere near ready to be independent like that.

Sooo it's easier to just forget about real life for a while and hang out with the Matsus! They're always the same, ever since they were kids! They're not "real adults" either, but they seem to be carefree and having lots of fun every day! So everyone in town who has to work so hard, they can just party with the matsus for as long as they can!

The matsus are sorta anxious about their lack of independence too, but that feeling kinda lessened ever since season 1. It seems like over time they accepted it to the point where they're PROUD to be NEETS now, or at least apathetic to it. So to them, they don't really understand why everyone else wants the sleepover to last forever. Time stands still for them anyway.

Plus either way, while they are pressured by society to be "proper adults", it's kinda different for them as cis men. Totoko's focus on having children is something that comes with very different social expectations and baggage. Pretty much all women are expected to be mothers someday, and it can feel incredibly stifling and stressful when you know that there's a time limit on that. A time limit on finding a partner and settling down, thats terrible! Plus then, even when that happens, the idealized version is never the reality. At the party, everyone is so happy. The old guys are full of energy, and Nyaa's toddler is behaving as a perfect cute angel. But in the split second flashbacks at the end, we can see the tedium of their day to day jobs, Matsuyo coping with aging, the struggles Nyaa goes through to raise her baby alone, ...Dayon's cat dies or something.. idk

So isn't it easier to forget about that reality and hang around with the matsus, who always go at their own pace? That's way more fun!

I've also been thinking too, on a more personal level. Gosh this show is 8 years old. ITS 8 YEARS OLD!!! ITS IN THE THIRD GRADE! What a nightmare the passage of time is. So yeah I've been feeling like Totoko. And I'm sentimental about this show! For whatever reason, my brain decided to fixate on it for all this time.

The matsus were kinda my ambassadors to adulthood really. I just graduated highschool and was starting my first semester of college when I first watched this show. And the feeling of "oh god we're supposed to be adults but we don't know what we're doing!!" that went from being funny to WAY TOO RELATABLE super quickly. And man, back then I certainly didn't think id still be feeling that way after 8 years. I'll probably be feeling it forever. Buuut reality still goes on and time is passing, and we're all older and Nyaa chan's baby is a toddler now. But the matsus are the same, and for a little while we can forget about reality and party with them for a little while~!

Even if the matsus are reeeeeeallly sick of it..

And that reminds me of another thing too. When the matsus were like sick and dying and begging for sleep when the whole town was forcing them to keep partying... That.. was meta commentary right? Like, I can't interpret that any other way. Like the show writers are just trying to tell us that they're BURNT OUT. Which, let's be fair, that's understandable I guess. (I mean not to ME because I feel like the matsus have infinite stories they could be used for but. anyway.) If that's true, and the writers are just begging to let the matsus finally go to sleep. I'm kinda fine with it! I genuinely think that this movie is a PERFECT series finale. It brushes on the anxiety of adulthood that the show is known for, it gives a spotlight to the beloved side characters, and it feels like a nice calm little summary of the whole thing. We had a fun party with these guys, and we can go back and play with them whenever we get tired of being adults for a while.

...so yea! I liked it! :3

And I'll be ready in 20-30 years when they reboot it as Osomatsu-Ojiisan where the brothers are all middle aged lmao

#osomatsu san

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neuroticboyfriend · 3 months ago

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So I don't really know who else to ask for help and I know you have opioid experience, so um sorry in advance if this is triggering or upsetting to ask about.

Basically I took some vicodin yesterday and the day before, both times around like noon, to see how well it would help with my pain because it has been really bad, and it did help a lot+I kind of enjoyed the high I got from it. Problem is it seems to be giving me really really bad nightmares and I'm afraid to fall back asleep, I was able for force myself to stay up for awhile but when I did crash the nightmares only seemed to get worse now that I've connected them in my brain to the vicodin. I guess my question is do you know any good ways to make myself calm the fuck down until the drugs are out of my system or should I just wait it out? How will I know when it's out of my system and it's safe to sleep again?

I don't know how late I am to answering this (I was just out of commission for like 12 hours, sleep is brutal), but as far as advice goes, I can't give much since I'm not a doctor. I can only share my experience.

Which, I don't have that much experience with traditional opioids. But other drugs definitely put me in a position where I couldn't sleep safely (Kratom being one, fuck that shit btw).

I pretty much white knuckled it, just let it pass. There was no real way for me to know when I could sleep. It was all guesswork based on how I felt, and the halflife of the substances - which was dangerous given I took seroquel to sleep. There were definitely times I should have called 911 instead.

I'd just stay up listening to music, texting people, watching Yotube, and going insane. For me, I don't think there's an easy way out of that kind of situation. It's a consequence I took on whenever I used a substance. Despite how severe my pain is now, the mental anguish and risk of death from substances isn't worth the temporary mental and physical relief.

I will say though, the last time I was in a situation like that, I called a friend and they suggested to ride it out and accept that it was going to feel bad for a while - but it would pass. That helped me calm down enough to not go totally crazy, cause accepting it was all I could really do. Working myself up about it made it worse, as unfair as that is.

So yeah, I don't know if that helps but I hope you're alright. ♡ Thank you for confiding in me about this.

#asks #moots #drugs tw #opioids tw

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atmilliways · 1 year ago

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Wrong On The Money (52)

part 52 of 55 | 1894 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck.

This is a mean place to leave off, but the next chapter goes up on Monday. In the meantime, enjoy your Friday the 13th. ❤️

52.

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck.

Spring Break had left him with plenty of physical damage—scars that start on his left cheek and continue down to his thighs, deepest near his middle where he’d almost been eviscerated, and on bad days he still has a trace of a limp.

There’s non-physical stuff too. Nightmares. He now has first hand experience with going to war against and being eaten alive by literal monsters, after all. And there’s Chrissy. . . . Always Chrissy. Those few but terrifying days had shattered his long-held beliefs in the difference between real life and fiction without any pause to let him pick up the pieces. What a mindfuck.

He still has nightmares, even with Steve in bed beside him; they both do. The comedown is easier together than alone, but it still happens. What surprises Eddie, though, is that his are about familiar things made horrifyingly unfamiliar. Running from the cops or angry jocks, for example, now supercharged with the cops pumping him full of lead and the jocks pummeling him to death, or coming at him with knives and stabbing out his entrails. Yeah, the bats and the blood and the fucking vines everywhere are in the mix too, but they’re horror movie props. They’re the spectators, the window dressing, even though every bullet or blow or knife feels like it has teeth.

Everything from Spring Break happened so fast, is the thing—even though the essence of it all is seared into his brain, his dreams never get the details quite right. All that Upside Down shit feels less real in the light of day, and like maybe he went crazy and imagined all of it. Sometimes the only way to make sure is to ask Steve, or Dustin, or any of his new monster hunting friends.

Worst by far, somehow, are the nightmares where those friends, the only people in this shitty town who had been right there in the trenches with him when public opinion screamed for his head on a pike, just . . . lose interest in him. Where they lose touch, slip through his fingers, and all he’s got to show from knowing them is a mangled torso and a tendency to jump at shadows.

Lately, he’s been dreaming that Robin, the first fellow queer friend he’d knowingly made in this hellhole town, is the first to turn away from him, and he can’t even blame her.

“She’s making me sweat it out on purpose,” he groans, face-down on the floor in Jeff’s temporary room at his aunt’s house. It smells like dust and old cigarettes down there, but he figures it’s what he deserves.

“Dude, you blackmailed her best friend,” Jeff points out. Unhelpfully, in Eddie’s opinion. “Not very well, but still. If someone pulled that shit on you I’d be out there slashing tires and egging their house.”

“You’re such a comfort,” Eddie mutters into the carpet. “I’m so glad I come to you with my problems.”

He can practically hear Jeff rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I am. She might be messing with you, but at least she’s not fucking with any of your shit. I know you consider the silent treatment to be the most hideous form of torture—”

Face still hidden, Eddie winces. Because Jeff’s not wrong, but Steve and Robin have been actually tortured for information by evil Russians and he’s a total wimp in comparison.

“—But it could be a lot worse.”

It could be. He knows that. And Steve keeps assuring him that everything’s fine, that he talked it out with Robin and she’s calmed down by now. Eddie nods along but keeps gnawing his nails down to the quick anyway, because that’s with Steve. She’s fine with Steve, calm with Steve, and still her schedule has casually omitted running into Eddie in any way. As far as he’s concerned speaks for itself.

And it doesn’t help when he tells Jeff about telling Steve about telling Jeff—which, okay, fine, it sounds stupid when put like that—his best friend had rolled his eyes and said, “Really Ed? You only just now thought to mention it?”

One more thing for Robin to rip his head off over. And Steve probably won’t pick him over her, which makes Eddie want to crumble to dust.

Well. He doesn’t think Steve should pick him over Robin. The actual ‘he picks me, he picks me not’ shit is something his guesses seesaw back and forth on all the time.

The world hadn't stopped for the apocalypse, let alone Eddie nearly dying or Eddie freaking out. Thatcher Tire doesn’t want him back after the murder charges and the government payout won’t last forever, so he’s spent the entire day going from storefront to storefront in what passes for downtown Hawkins.

He knows that Steve is working at Family Video today, because he’d pried himself out of bed and Eddie’s starfish grip that morning for that very reason. He also knows that Robin isn’t on the schedule today, because he’s thought to ask before dozing back off for a few hours. So he feels no hesitation before sailing into the video rental store from the deserted parking lot and announcing with a flourish, “You are looking at Melvald’s newest stock boy, courtesy of one benevolent Joyce Byers!”

It comes out as a weird mix of triumphant and resigned, falling flat in the still air of Family Video. Because yeah, he has a job, but it came at the heels of a series of rejections and feels like a pity offer. Does it count as nepotism if it comes from the matriarch of their weird little unofficial monster-hunting family?

When his declaration goes unanswered, Eddie takes a moment to really take in his surroundings. He’d expected no one else to be in the store, and there isn’t; but it isn’t Steve behind the counter.

It’s Robin.

The door has already closed behind him, cutting off the easiest escape route. He could open it again, but that would be going out of his way to run from danger, something he’s promised himself he won’t do anymore. And . . . Steve had sworn up and down to him that everything’s fine.

The deliberately blank look on Robin’s face suggests that Steve was incorrect.

Eddie moves forward by sheer force of momentum, jamming his hands in his jeans pockets and clearing his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Robin replies, in a tone that implies that the rest of that sentence is ‘and welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes to your living room,’** or whatever corporate bullshit she and Steve might technically be required to say but never actually do. Eddie’s heard her customer service voice before, but never directed at him. He almost trips over his own feet hearing it now.

“So. . . .” Eddie usually prides himself on knowing what to say, or at least being able to vamp for time and posture a lot until he figures it out. To have it happen with someone he knows well is absolutely excruciating.

A tiny part of him worries that Steve had set him up for this, faked having work today or something to force this meeting and get it over with. But Steve wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“Is Steve around?” he asks finally, aware that the silence has been dragging and Robin, unusually, is making no attempt to put it out of its misery.

She narrows her eyes and jerks a thumb over one shoulder towards the door marked Employees Only.

So, okay, Steve is probably on break and Eddie had just misremembered Robin’s schedule. That’s fine. That’s something, anyway. He can work with something.

With a vague salute that he hopes to god comes across as inoffensive and casual, Eddie beelines for the break room. He’ll feel a little better with Steve at his back, or at least after he gets a chance to hiss “I told you so” and work some of the panicking out of his system.

The break room, however, is empty save for a flimsy card table, some shitty folding chairs, and a couch that's definitely seen better days. Eddie looks around, dumbfounded, and even ducks into the adjoining manager’s office to double check that Steve isn’t holed up in there for some reason. He hears the break room door swing open and shut again and darts out hopefully, but—

It’s Robin again. “Steve felt a migraine coming on a couple hours into his shift and called me to fill in for him,” she announces. “I just flipped the sign to closed. We, Eddie Munson, are going to have a talk.”

** I read the "Welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes tyo your living room" line in Cut and Changed and Rearranged by AidaRonan and could not get it out of my head, so it crept in here. And then I had to dig around until I found the fic it was from, because my memory for titles is like Swiss cheese. Anyway, great fic, highly recommend!

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington

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ohnoitsjetster · 11 months ago

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jesse!!! hi!! i have one very important question for you: ARE‼️YOU 🫵🏼 DAN🧍‍♂️REYNOLDS🎤⁉️

(okay now for my real question, what’s your fav hatchetfield installment?? it could be a musical or nightmare time ep or even workin’ boys if you’ve seen it :] i’m curious!! oh also if you want you can tell me about orin, i’m vaguely familiar with lsoh but it’s been a while!! so yea, free pass to talk about your lil gay sadist of a dentist <3 this was just an excuse to give you an ask so yk you can really just talk about whatever)

SOL! Hi hi hi hi !! (Sorry for the late response)

OHOHO! A dual fandom ask !! This means another long rambling post for my four most dedicated followers to read!!!! Im sorry in advance!!! this will probably be boring to everyone but me!!!!

I think my favorite might be NPMD. That one changed my brain chemistry for sure. But so did TGWDLM, I really believe that watching Show Stopping Number at the tender age of, like 11… well it just explains a lot about how i turned out ([obligatory “fuck Robert manion”]). I also frequently shake Time Bastard, Killer Track, and Abstinence Camp around in my teeth like a dog like HAUUFHGIGJHJGKKGKFGKRGJ RFRRRGJGG RRHHRHHRHH HREHHEGEGHGRGHRHHHHFFNFHFGGHF like that. But yeah at the present moment I'm being insane about NPMD. The songs are all bangers (Yes all of them) and I am in love with every character (Yes every character). High School is Killing Me is kind of my anthem right now. For no. Particular reason. Also, your honor those three nerds are all literally me and also i am in love with them and also im that fucked up dead bully but in a totally normal way.

So. Speaking of fucked up dead bullies… ‘,:]

Orin Scrivello, DDS <3 my beautiful bbg who has never done anything wrong in his life except for literally everything he did. Worst guy ever. But hey, you can’t choose who you rotate around in your brain, or how many Pinterest boards you make about it. Another instance of “he’s literally me but obviously not actually at all but I think he’s silly so that’s basically the same thing.” A tale as old as time. I don’t know how many queer awakenings one person can have but I was definitely already trans and bi when I saw Orin for the first(?*) time last year, and now, well now im the same but im more pretentious about it and I own a leather jacket. (*I actually saw LSOH a long time ago when i was way younger, but I didn’t remember it almost at all and I’d thought “The Dentist” was like this mad scientist type character, which, not exactly wrong ig, so anyway he’s been swimmin around in my brain making me silly for who knows how long, but yeah probably just since last year). I swear to cope with hyperfixating on such a fucked up character I’ve literally been making au’s in my brain where he’s morally ambiguous, or gets a redemption arc (he does not fucking deserve a redemption arc he deserves to be chopped up and fed to a bitchy gay plant), or where he’s literally just a nice guy. Yeah I’ll sometimes just remove the character from this character to appease the brain demons. But the cool thing about the Not an Asshole™️ AUs is that, in the og, the whole story basically goes south when Seymour justifies killing to feed the plant cause he can kill that jerk Orin, so if he’s not a jerk maybe they all survive?? Idk i just like thinkin. Also… ALSO!.. I made a post a while ago that I might someday make Orin textpost memes using pictures from my actual stage production, and well, that day has come! or, will come, soon. I’ve made the pictures I just have to make the post. It was very fun Im excited to share em. Okay thats all TYSM for the ask bestie!!!

Oh and to address your first question…

I 🧑🏻 AM 💥 DAN🧍‍♂️REYNOLDS 🎤 ✅

#with Action News. Weekdays at 10pm #thank you for the ask!#i am given new life by the ask!#forever in your debt for the ask!#sorry it took forever to answer #starkid #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #little shop of horrors #lsoh #orin scrivello #rambles #saying stuff

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chroniclesinlavender · 7 months ago

Text

ENTRY 001: Dreams (Part 1)

Isaiah has an alarming dream.

Transcript below:

[Avlin nłzēwok'un nar īdsēravn aryú pi-lizt'n. Má ēzyi'ōf fl cni-lizt'n. (These are the stories known only to the Seraphim. Let not these events be forgotten.)]

???: [strained] Have to... keep it... together... can't stop... need to s-stay... need to foc... focus... have to keep it togETHEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRR!!

ISAIAH: ...and then everything fades away, and I wake up.

[Chronicles in Lavender. Art & Story by Koishi. ENTRY 001: Dreams (Part 1)]

[December 12, 2019. 3:40 PM]

ISAIAH: My heart's always pounding out of my chest, and I can't sleep for the rest of the night. Every single time, it always goes exactly the same. The same place, the same people... and it never feels like I have any control, or I'm really acting on anything. I'm sorta just... watching it happen, I guess.

DR. GARDNER: Do you feel like the date in which you have the dreams could be significant?

ISAIAH: I dunno, your guess is as good as mine. I just happens every month on the full moon. I don't know why or how, it just does. It's been so consistent that I can anticipate it coming. Sometimes, I would stay up all night from the anxiety, then the minute I fall asleep, they happen anyways. I've always had vivid dreams. They feel so real, and I can control them too. Like, like lucid dreaming. But when these dreams happen, I just feel... powerless. Got a pill I can take for that?

DR. GARDNER: I could, but stepping away from medication, I think this might be related to another significant topic we've yet to come back to? Specifically the topic of Tara? And I know it's uncomfortable, but I think at least addressing it may give a better understanding of these recurring nightmares. I think a lot of the themes you've described to me in your dreams; the lack of control, the sense of urgency, the need to "keep it all together", could all be tied to your trauma regarding your sister's disappearance. A way for your brain to process through the guilt you feel and the grief you're experiencing. Does that sound about right?

ISAIAH: [shrugs]

DR. GARDNER: It's hard, having to go through that. It feels impossible to carry that weight on you all of the time, but it's important to remind yourself that Tara's disappearance is not your fault. It may seem selfish, but some things are out of our control. So it's better to grieve and find a way to move forward. At the end of the day, your own mental health is something that you have to put first, or things like this will keep affecting you. Of course, we can move on if you'd like. How have your exercises been going?

ISAIAH: Oh... uh... I've been trying, and I've been goin outside more, too.

DR. GARDNER: That's good to hear! Tell me more about how that's been working for you.

ISAIAH: [in journal] Log date: 12/19/2019. 4:28 PM. I've just concluded my therapy session for this week. We talked about the usual stuff, depression and meds and self-affirmation. I brought up the dreams, but that ended up leading back to Tara. It's been four years since she disappeared. I've been trying not to think about it. It's jut too much right now. I though by now I'd at least be better about it. That I wouldn't feel so awful. I guess I don't, but I just feel nothing instead. I dunno if that's better or worse. Rather not dwell on all of that now. Either way, I'm hoping that this night'll be over soon. I hate these stupid dreams, it's like a puzzle and I'm missing a billion pieces to it. If I go to bed early, I can at least get the dreams out of the way. Or I'm hoping to. Not much to hope for as of late.

[some time later]

ISAIAH: Yo LiLi.

AMALIAH: Yoooo Isaiah, me and Andre gonna be stayin out for the night. We're hangin w/ some friends.

ISAIAH: Yeah sure, aight. How come you didn't text?

AMALIAH: Cuz I'm drivin? fuck you mean?? And you take, like, hours to text back.

ISAIAH: Yeah yeah nah, good point... Okay, I'll text if I need somethin-

AMALIAH: Whoa hold up, you good cuz? You sound like shit. Still gettin them weird dreams? I know it's a full moon tonight.

ISAIAH: yeah, but I also had therapy today, so I'm like, emotionally-drained.

AMALIAH: Goootcha gotcha. Well if you need me, just text. Aight I gotta watch the road. See you in the mornin, kay?

ISAIAH: Night, LiLi.

ISAIAH: Is anything going to be different? Anything at all? I thought bringing it up at therapy would shed some light on why I keep having these dreams, but of course it all goes back to Tara. I thought I would be fine by now. That I'd find a way to not let what happened mess me up. But I'm still here. Everything around me keeps going, but I'm still here. Still empty... why does it even matter? Maybe this is just it for me... just emptiness and guilt... walking through a haze as life passes me by. I'm so sick of it being this way. I just want something to change... I just want to change.

BUTTERFLY: Why Do You Chase After Me?

ISAIAH: I don't know. I can't remember anymore I've just been... running for so long... Why were you running?

BUTTERFLY: I Was Running From Something As Well, Something Too Hard For Me To Bear. But I Feel As If You Can Help Me Face It.

ISAIAH: How would someone like me be able to help? I'm empty...

BUTTERFLY: You Are Not Empty. You Are An Endless Multitude. And If You Help Me, I Promise To You What You Yearn For The Most.

ISAIAH: ...okay. I can do that.

BUTTERFLY: Then It Is Time For You To Wake Up, Isaiah.

ISAIAH: Something... changed.

[Ēzm̄fl īn-hōn pi-jalzègxa olsl... (To be continued in the next entry...)]

#comic #webcomic #digital comic #portal fantasy #isekai #chronicles in lavender #cil #isaiah hughes #amaliah adams #ic

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cellard0ors · 2 years ago

Text

It starts because of the nightmares.

Laura starts having them in rapid frequency and they're always extremely intense. Interestingly enough they have nothing to do with werewolves or her imprisonment.

Instead they're more abstract and bizarre and she read that her hormones are no doubt to blame - a sort of 'pregnancy brain' taking hold of her REM cycles.

At first she tries to deal with it on her own, waking up gasping and clicking on her bedside lamp, telling herself over and over to relax, that they're just nightmares and they're nothing to get so worked up about.

But as they continue, they start to really interfere with her rest and she knows it can't be good for the baby.

This leaves Laura with one option, one she finds extremely embarrassing, but one she feels she'll have to overcome for her child's sake.

"Travis?" She asks into his dark room quietly. She hears nothing, not even snores (and she would have pegged him as the snoring type), and she strains her eyes, trying to pick him out.

He has a rather large bed with a huge fluffy comforter and more pillows than necessary. It's actually because of the pillows that it takes her a moment to pick him out

He's buried beneath a few and as she carefully treads in, she does her best not to alarm him. Apparently she fails, as he suddenly shoots upright, holding out his hand like he has a gun in it.

He doesn't (thank God), but she gets the impression he used to, as he makes a few disgruntled sounds before asking in a confused, sleepy slur, "L'ra?'

"Yes, it's me."

Travis lets out a grumpy sound and rubs at his face, "Mm'doin here?"

Laura picks up the gist of it, "I...I had a bad dream. Been-been having them a lot lately..."

She feels both stupid and anxious, yet she forces herself to ask, "C-can I sleep in here?"

Travis breathes in deep and sits up more. Even in the dark, Laura can tell his hair is a mess. He fumbles around until he turns on a lamp and he looks exhausted, but cognizant enough to interact, "Sleep here?"

"Yeah, I mean...if you don't mind?"

"Sure." He says as if it's no big deal and then he goes to get up, Laura holds out a staying hand, "What are you doing?"

"You-?" He rubs at his eyes, clearly trying to wake up more, "You said you wanted to sleep here."

"Well, yeah..."

"So, I mean, s'weird, but if you think sleeping here'll be better but 's fine. Just gonna go crash on the couch..."

"Oh! Ah! No..." Laura feels her stomach twist, feels her face flush, "I-I was hoping you...you'd sleep in here too."

Travis looks both sleepy and befuddled, "Um, floor's not great for my back-?"

"I don't want you to sleep on the floor!" Laura comes across sharply, because he has to be pulling her leg now, right? Travis can be dense, but not this dense, "I-? I want you to stay where you are."

If Travis is pulling her leg, he's really playing it to the hilt, because he just looks more confused. Laura sighs, "Your bed is big enough! I stay on my side, you on yours..."

"You-?" He says it so haltingly, "Want to share the bed?"

"Yes, officer. If that's okay." The sarcasm is dry and full of annoyance. Travis just huffs, "Not an officer anymore."

"Okay, well-?"

It hangs there, unanswered, and she feels like someone needs to say something, "You can put up a pillow wall between us if you need-!"

"No, I don't-?" He lets out a few gruff sounds and knocks the covers aside, "Just-?"

He gestures to the open space before curling up neatly (and tightly) on the opposite side. Laura lets out a breath and a 'thank you' before clambering in.

They both stick to their ends, but the air holds tension for some time. Eventually one or both of them succumbs to the weight of sleep and that's that.

In the morning, when the sunlight streams in, Laura wakes up and finds Travis gone. He's gone, but she's...refreshed. She actually did sleep well the rest of the night.

So, the concession was worth it. Laura's sure that once will be enough.

It isn't.

The next night she tries to sleep in her room alone only for the nightmares to return. Once she wakes up a third time that same night, shaky and disoriented, she decides to give up the ghost.

Laura goes to Travis's room, but doesn't wake him this time, as she notices he's to one side again. Instead she crawls in and makes sure to put pillows between them just in case, just to ensure she doesn't alarm him.

If he's alarmed, she never knows it, because the next day she just wakes up alone again, not one word from him.

Thus they settle into a new routine of sharing the bed.

It's not something they talk about - it's like when they share meals or spend time in the same room together, watching television or reading or whatever. It's this unspoken, amicable agreement they've just come to.

Either Travis or Laura will go to bed first and then the other will follow. They've each claimed a side and they sleep together - same room, same bed - no big deal.

Until one morning when Laura wakes up feeling warm and wonderful. Her thoughts are hazy, but she knows she's in someone's arms - she's not sure whose, because she's in that moment of wakefulness where she's not entirely aware of her surroundings.

She's not even entirely sure of who she is, just that instinctual feeling of cozy happiness one finds after a good night's rest and a gentle awakening. But, as her thoughts become more solid, more stable, she realizes that she can only be in one set of arms

Travis.

His name leaps to her mind, almost bursting from her mouth, as her eyes pop open wider and, sure enough, Travis Hackett's arms are circled around her, holding her as closely as a child would hold a beloved stuffed animal.

Laura tenses up, wondering what exactly to do. Flipping out isn't going to help the situation and, frankly, it's...nice. It's been so long since she's been held, touched.

It's surprising how much one can miss physical contact from another person. Laura never appreciated it until she lost it. So, now, in his arms, she almost wants to languish here, enjoy the feeling.

And, selfishly, she does for some time. Eventually, however, she untangles herself from him gently. He doesn't wake up, but she does take note of a displeased wrinkle forming between his eyebrows - as if, even in sleep, he notices the loss

As if he's upset by it.

Laura valiantly ignores this.

It was a strange one off. No big deal. Their spooning. Big whoop. She's just going to forget all about it.

But then it happens again. And again.

Laura doesn't talk to him about it and, if he's ever caught himself doing it, he doesn't talk to her about it. Again, an unspoken thing

It's not as if it's anything overtly romantic or sexual.

Until, of course, it is.

#hackearney #my writing #travis x laura #unexpected gifts

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