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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven

A03

"No come back here and hug me dammit!"

"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.

Tiff just shook her head.

"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.

Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.

"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"

Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.

He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.

Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.

"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.

Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.

"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."

"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.

"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.

"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"

"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"

'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.

"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.

Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.

"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.

Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."

Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"

"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.

It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."

Steve looked over at him and winked.

"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"

Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.

Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)

Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.

If one pitched it right.

"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You have the power."

"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."

Gareth ignore him.

"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?" He asked, playfully.

He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."

"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."

That got an interesting reaction.

"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.

A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.

"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."

He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.

"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.

"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."

No ulterior motives here, no sir!

"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."

"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.

"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"

"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."

"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.

"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"

"Not even close." Steve told him.

Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.

"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."

Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.

Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"

In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.

(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.

But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)

For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.

Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.

Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.

"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.

"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.

"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."

"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."

"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.

It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.

Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.

xXx

Steve backslid the next morning.

Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.

He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.

He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.

Most damning?

He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.

Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.

(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”

Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)

Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.

Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.

A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.

Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.

Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.

This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)

Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.

"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.

"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."

Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.

"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."

"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.

Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.

They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.

"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."

"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.

Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.

Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.

Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.

The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.

Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.

Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.

'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.

This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.

"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.

"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.

"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."

"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.

There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.

"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.

"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.

He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.

"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.

The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.

'Got you.'

"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"

"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."

A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”

A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.

"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"

"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.

"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.

"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."

"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."

"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.

Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."

Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.

It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."

It was the perfectness of it.

How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.

A sort of--trophy house.

He went on to tell his best friend this.

"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.

They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.

If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.

Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.

To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.

The noise came again, this time a little louder.

Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.

Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.

Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.

"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"

He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.

Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.

"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.

"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."

Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.

Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.

(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)

“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."

"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."

Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."

“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.

Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.

“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.

Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."

"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.

It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.

The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)

Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.

The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.

"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.

Perhaps it did.

Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"

"Florida this time and no."

Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.

"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."

Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.

Steve had never shied from hard work.

Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.

The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.

There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.

Or perhaps, not just a summer job.

"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”

"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.

Ah-ha.

"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."

Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.

No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.

"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.

"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."

Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.

Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.

Eddie’s head tilted the other way.

"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.

He got a shrug in response.

Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.

Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.

"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."

Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.

It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.

"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”

Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.

"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.

"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.

Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.

"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."

Oh.

Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.

A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.

"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.

"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.

Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."

"I--what?"

"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."

"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.

The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.

"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.

Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.

“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”

Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”

"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”

“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.

“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”

Steve frowned.

“My parents don’t see it like that.”

“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”

That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.

Which is right about when the phone rang.

They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.

It was well past midnight.

"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.

His friend just shrugged, before picking up.

"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.

Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.

"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."

"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.

It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.

"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.

Then; "Why?"

"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."

“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?

On a school night?

"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.

Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.

"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.

"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.

"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.

Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.

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w1ldthoughts · 6 months

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(Not So) Happy Birthday

A/n: An anon request to kick off sad girl winter😌

Johnston! Can’t pull it in! It hit him in the hands at the 35 of Green Bay. Carrington Valentine on the coverage but Johnston couldn’t snatch it.

Two weeks in row. Two bone crushing loses. 533 yards of offense allowed. Last place in the AFC West. Millions of questions about a broken finger. A delay of game that caused a public outburst. So many fleeting moments that impacted him beyond explanation and all you could do was watch cautiously as he tried to pick up the broken pieces of this shattered season. He’d been upstairs in his home office watching film for the last three hours, reviewing it frame by frame, wracking his brain on where he could be better, even though you knew this mess wasn’t a result of his shortcomings.

You tiptoed up to his door, mentally giving yourself a pep talk before knocking. As soon as you heard “come in,” you practically floated to his chair with how fast you got to him. The depression beard was creeping its way back in and a part of you hoped that he’d trim it before it got out of hand like the last time. Settling in his lap with a gentle kiss on his cheek, you glanced at one screen that had a repeat shot of Donald Pathan’s fourth down drop, feeling your boyfriend tense underneath you.

“So, I was thinking…” you muse, trying to gauge the mood of your audience.

“Tomorrow we should—”

“I can’t do anything tomorrow.” He sighs, rubbing his face with his hand. “Derwin and I decided that a player’s only meeting was needed. We have a lot of shit to talk about so we might as well all do it together and really regroup as a unit. Offense, defense, special teams. We should all be on the same page and we clearly haven’t been.”

He had to be joking. “Wait, so we’re not spending ANY time together tomorrow? You’ll be with the team all day?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I’m the quarterback y/n. These guys expect me to lead them I can’t blow off the team because you want us to go to bottomless mimosas. I’ll make it up to you in the off-season, I swear.” His eyes look sincere, with a hint of sadness to them and you just want to make it all better, but all you can focus on right now is how hurt you are. Blinking back tears, you nod your head and stand up, running a hand down his back and letting him continue to watch film.

The only thing that kept you from absolutely losing it was the hope that deep down he was kidding. There was no way he’d spend his day off in a friendship circle with his teammates instead of celebrating your birthday. You refused to believe that.

Waking up the next morning had you feeling off but optimistic. You skipped down the stairs hoping to find a birthday breakfast or at the very least a smoothie and your boyfriend’s smiling face. You were met with…nothing. Just as you were pulling out your phone to call him, you got a text from your best friend, demanding that you be ready in 20 minutes for brunch and you guessed it, bottomless mimosas. You forgot all about Justin and about what you had to do, for a few hours.

After the team meeting had wrapped up, Will came up to him, clearly trying to make sure he was actually fine and not just saying it. They talked a bit about the next few games and how they would handle practice this week as well as having Justin host team dinner at his house before the end of the regular season.

“Oh hey by the way, tell y/n I said happy birthday. Get out of here and go celebrate man, I can’t believe she let you host this meeting, Lizzie would’ve killed me.” The center watched the blood drain from his teammate’s face and his smile dropped immediately. “Justin please tell me you didn’t forget, please.”

“I uh—I gotta go Will. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Justin rushes out, grabbing his stuff and jogging to the parking lot. He called in a favor and stopped by your favorite bakery, grabbed a dozen balloons from another store and headed home as soon as humanly possible.

The usual spot on the driveway where you parked your car was empty and that made him feel even more guilty. His call going straight to voicemail 20 seconds later made him feel even worse. For two hours he sat in the living room, trying to come up with a way to make it up to you but deep down he knew that no grand gesture could dig him out of this one.

“Hi.” He immediately stood up to greet you as you walked in the door but you didn’t return the hug.

“How was your meeting? You guys fix things?” It hurt that you genuinely looked interested in how his day was, when he’d completely forgotten to celebrate your day.

“I think we got somewhere, yeah. But listen, I just”

“I’m gonna go change,” you interrupt him, “then you can tell me what happened.”

Before you could make it upstairs his voice stopped you in your tracks. “Are we really not going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” You sigh as you turn around.

“Come on y/n, I know. I fucked up.”

You sigh deeply, not wanting the gravity of the upcoming conversation ruining the fun day you had. “What exactly did you do Justin?”

“I forgot your birthday and I’m sorry. You know how crazy it’s been the last few weeks with my finger and the losses piling up and the rumors about coach. But I still should have remembered and I feel terrible. How can I fix it?” You almost forgave him right there, those big green eyes knew how to draw you in. But not this time.

“There’s nothing to fix J, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal which is why I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

“It’s not a big deal that your boyfriend forgot your birthday.” He pipes up, feeling his frustration growing by the minute. “I’m sorry but I’m not buying it. I know I hurt you. Just be honest with me about how you feel. Lay it on me, I deserve it.”

You stifle a laugh. “Be honest? That’s really rich coming from you, Mr. ‘In touch with his emotions.’ When was the last time you actually told me how you’re feeling about anything? And I’m not talking about you being upset about someone taking up two parking spots. I mean what do you think about when you lie in bed, wide awake for hours while you think I’m asleep? How do you feel with this big new contract and all these expectations but lackluster results? You wanna talk? Let’s really talk.” You cross your arms, physically shielding yourself and not allowing him to see the pain he caused.

His shoulders relax at your expression and most of the anger subsides. “I love the guys in that locker room. But do I want friends more than I want a Super Bowl? I have so much football left to play with this team and I don’t want to look back 10 years from now, having played almost two decades in the NFL with nothing to show for it other than bruises and decent stats. I want to leave a legacy.”

“But I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot about one of the most important things in my life and I can’t apologize to you enough. I know you’re mad but I got you your favorite cake and I’m all yours tomorrow after practice, no extra throwing, nothing. Just you and me. How does that sound?”

These were words that you’d been waiting to hear all day. Hell for the last 13 days. And here he was doing just that. But you felt nothing.

“I’m not mad you forgot my birthday, I’m just recognizing that there might just be some things that aren’t worth fighting for.” He reaches out for you but you take a step back, standing your ground.

“Are—are you talking about us? Our relationship isn’t worth fighting for?”

You could practically feel the stress radiating off of him and you were in no place to provide any comfort, so you stared at your feet. “I love everything about you. You’re fearlessly loyal and kind and you quite literally never give up on anything that you set your mind to. You might be the greatest human being on this Earth.” Your voice begins to tremble and you swallow the lump forming in your throat to continue.

“You give everything to your team and to football and I just—I can’t compete with that. I tried to but,” you let out a wet laugh as a tear escapes your eyes. “There just isn’t a way for you to find the balance right now. And that’s okay. I promise, I’m so glad I got to spend all this time with you and—”

Justin wipes another stray tear from your face. “We don’t have to do this. People who love each other this much don’t just end things without trying to work through them. Please.” He begs.

“People who love each other also know when time to let go. Babe, we want different things right now. You want to win games and prove that this organization taking a chance on you was worth it and I—I want someone who is going to love me and cherish me as much as I cherish them. Justin I would never forget you, but I’d never make you choose between me and your job either. I have to protect myself and take care of my own heart right now. And to do that, I have to let you go.”

He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, wrapping you up in his arms. A slow tear lands on your shoulder as you both hold each other tight, knowing that it may be the last time.

The next few minutes consist of packing a bag and promising to come back later when he’s not home to grab the rest of your stuff. He silently walked you to the door and placed a goodbye kiss on your forehead for old times sake. Without another word, you were gone and the door was closed behind you.

A notification pops up on his phone for a dinner reservation that he must have made weeks ago at one of your favorite places. Something in him snapped and he threw the phone across the room, hearing it shatter as it slammed against the wall.

“Happy birthday, y/n.” He whispered, taking a seat on the couch to put his head in his hands.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #Justin Herbert angst #justin herbert x reader #nfl imagine #Justin Herbert fanfic

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nobrashfestivity · 24 days

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Hello, really appreciate all the art you share, I've learned of so many wonderful artists that way. I particularly enjoy the work of surrealists and symbolists. Do you have any recommendations/favorites that I or most people might not be as familiar with? Or just some favorites in general?

Thanks for the question, I'll think more on it but off the top of my head, it's such a big category I'll just mention a couple things.

I'm not such a fan of straight surrealism in painting, ala Magritte, Dali etc. For me it works better in film or photography or writing. There's something about many surrealist images that are oftentimes just too plainly ironic and somehow the fact that single image paintings cause you to pause on these ideas wears them out for me.

It's nothing against anyone, I love Dali as a designer and as a person who was invested in art in a way that few people are these days, but I find his actual paintings boring.

However, these labels are difficult for me, who is symbolist and who a surrealist? Munch is called a symbolist and he's a huge favorite but you could call him and expressionist too .One of the sweet spots for me is where kind of "Outsider art" meets symbolism, in other words, things that are kind of nuts.

Examples I will link here are from this blog but there is obviously a better world out there to look about.

Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis a polish artist and composer that kind of has that intersection of the mystical and symbolist thing with that outsider art lack of convention.

Victor Brauner is a bit like Paul Klee, very playful and colorful but more committed to surrealistic themes

František Drtikol is known more as a photographer but bridges many gaps.

Ernst Steiner don't know much about this Swiss artist, but he was clearly possessed with some of the same thematic ideas as Leonora Carrington (I assume you know her already, but yes) as well as his own geometric interests.

You might check out Georgiana Houghton a pioneering abstract artist who was unsurprisingly unsuccessful and based much of her work on conversations with the spirit world.

I've got lots of Redon and Munch here of course

You may like the very versatile, crazy, political art of James Ensor, who was way ahead of his time.

If you like Carrington you might like Remedios Vara and Felix Labisse or maybe Franz Sedlacek

I'm running out of time to create links here but here and elsewhere you might check out Alfred Kubin, Gustave Moreau, William Degouve de Nuncques, and Wifredo Lam

I can give you more if you like. For the intersectionality I would check out my tags for Surrealism but also outsider art (people like AUSTIN OSMAN SPARE and Erich Zablatnik are in there) and Art brut

reminder to search tags randomly as tumblr will just decide to show part of what's there which is quite annoying.

Thanks for the interesting question

#questions #symbolist painting

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lmaopuli · 7 months

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Tattoos and Tequila

— a fluffy Mason Mount blurb

Warnings: just brief mentions of alcohol?

Word count: ~1k

—

“I didn’t know you had all these.” Mason mumbled in your ear behind you, fingers grazing the tiny tattoos on the back of your arms.

“Well that’s because you’ve only seen me in my work uniform, genius.” You smirked, trying to play it cool as you turned around from the bar. But the glint in your eyes gave it away, you were so excited to finally see Mason outside of Carrington.

All the United team and staff were out celebrating the end of a successful season. The evening started out with a proper awards night, with the women in gowns and heels and the men in suits. Of course, the boys didn’t want to end the night there. Thus you, and some of the other younger staff members were invited to the club as well. Going out and getting wasted wasn’t your usual thing, but after seeing Mase in that fitted, grey suit, you needed to see what he looked like in the club—you wanted to see him let loose a bit after a tough but rewarding season. And you know what? After a season of tending to injuries and performing god knows how many physical exams, you deserved a night out too.

So here you were, in your best clubbing outfit, waiting at the bar for at least half an hour alone. You’ve been sipping away at your tequila soda, impatiently waiting for the man you’ve been crushing on this whole year. Checking the time on your phone for the millionth time that night, you were so close to leaving. But low and behold, Mason just had to be fashionably late. Luckily he found you just in time, before you decided to leave for good—and thank god he did. There he was, in a simple white shirt, jeans, and his signature black sunglasses. He always looked good to you, but something about the way he looked tonight, his touches and comment about your tattoos, and the tequila in your system made your heart pick up and your mouth go all dry.

“Has anyone told you how silly your sunglasses look at night?” You cheekily questioned, trying your best to not make it obvious the effect he had on you in that moment.

“Really?” He chuckled, sliding his sunglasses off, “you might be right.” But instead of keeping them on his shirt or at the bar behind you, he slid them on you, slowly going up the bridge of your nose. “I think they might actually look better on you, love,” he mumbled, his hand now resting on your jaw. And while your vision was now much darker because of his sunnies, you swore his charming smile was still the brightest thing in the room.

Oh, you were in for a long night.

“Let’s take a shot,” you quickly blurted out, unable to look at him anymore. The liquid courage from your tequila soda was dwindling, and you needed more immediately.

Mason, on the other hand, loved seeing you this flustered. At work, you always kept it professional, but almost too much so for his liking. Initially, he couldn’t even tell where he stood with you. You’d been hired only a few weeks after he joined the team. The first day he saw you in the physio room, he had become so flustered himself. To be fair, he wasn’t used to a girl physio, and a gorgeous one at that. When you flashed your pretty smile at him saying goodbye at the end of his physical, he couldn’t help but wonder if you flashed that smile to all of his teammates. Maybe you were just this kind to everyone?

His thoughts changed a few months later, though. He had picked up a slight shoulder injury during training and the coaching staff urged him to the physio room right away. For some reason, you'd been the only staff member in the room that afternoon. Your eyes went wide at Mason telling you what happened, immediately helping him remove his shirt so you could take a better look at his shoulder. You weren’t prepared to see what was underneath, however, and Mason definitely noticed your gaze on him, trailing down his abs and on the various tattoos he had scattered around his upper body. At that moment, he knew you felt something too.

Mason wasn’t big on taking shots, but if the girl he’d been thinking about all season asked to take one with him, he was gonna do it. He removed the hand cupping your face, reaching to grab his wallet to pay the bartender, but his eyes never left your frame.

—

“You got any more of those?” Mason asked later in the night, “tattoos, I mean.” His fingers started absentmindedly grazing the ones on your arms again.

“Yeah,” you answered, “I have a few more you can’t see.”

“Well,” Mason followed, “when can I see them?” His face dropped and immediately went red, just now realizing how suggestive he sounded. Why did I just say that?

Yeah, he wanted to see more of you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He was internally freaking out, worried that he ruined his chances at being more just “colleagues” with you. He wished he hadn’t given you his sunglasses before, so you couldn’t see the embarrassment in his eyes.

Noticing his cockiness slipping away, you just giggled. Of course, you’d let him see the rest of your tattoos one day. The ones no one else has ever seen. But you also had standards, and your feelings for Mase went beyond the physical. You didn’t want to rush into anything and jeopardize that.

“How about we start off with you taking me out on a date, Mount?” You asked, sliding off his sunglasses you had on to look him in the eyes.

His shoulders relaxed in relief. “Deal. What are you doing this Sunday?”

————

So this is a different vibe than my first fic? Idk how I feel about it tbh, part of it’s loosely based on a real life experience I would’ve much rather wanted to have with Mase 😭 I’ll prob go back to soft fluffy fluff after this 🤷🏻‍♀️ Feedback, reblogs, and likes are so appreciated :)

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #mason concepts #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #Molly’s Mase fics #Molly’s footy fics

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peachyteabuck · 3 months

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sword & shield (fallon carrington x reader)

↪ summary: you have a meltdown. luckily, fallon knows just what to do

a commission for @devillskettle

↪ pairing: fallon carrington x reader

↪ words: 1,032

↪ trigger warnings: fluff, angst related to it being a meltdown, unspecified neurodiversity in reader

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The inside of your chest feels like a balloon being filled with helium by a careless child. Everything—from the hairs sticking to your forehead, to your extra-dark sunglasses atop your head, to the itchy tag at the back of your shirt—everything grates on your nerves as though they were large blocks of cheese. Two tables behind you, a man is telling a woman off for taking too harsh a tone during a pitch meeting. A table in front of you, a couple is professing their love for each other after the woman’s pregnancy test came back positive last night. Your waiter has on cologne you think expired the same time Britney publicly shaved her head.

Next to your heart and your lungs you can feel the latex pressing on your vital organs; you can’t inhale enough, and you can feel your heart muscles fending off the flimsy material. Some of it seems to pass into your trachea, too, blocking any air from passing in or out.

You don’t say anything when you leave the restaurant, simply standing up as Fallon rambles on about someone at work who accused her of using her Daddy’s money to get by. It’s not that you don’t care that she cares about her reputation—but, more importantly, if you had to hear one more second of literally any noise, you were going to start screaming and flipping tables.

It’s not too hot outside, but not too cold, either. One of those end-of-summer days where the light jacket you’d refused to take off when you’d entered the restaurant would keep you perfectly content. Now you wish you’d brought the heavy blazer you’d tossed aside at the last second. You would’ve hated lugging it around, but at least you’d have something to hide under as the world shrunk around you.

It's easy to know that Fallon is the one coming to stand next to you. She’s got that confident air about her that you’ve envied since undergrad—that kind of energy that guys in your profession were born with; the kind you hated until you saw it dressed in a hot pink pantsuit with a matching Prada purse.

Fallon doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay. She and the few strangers passing by know you’re not okay just by looking at you—hunched over, hands over your ears, eyes screwed shut. She also knows how easily touch can set you off in these moments, as if you had become trapped inside the belly of a territorial dog, ready to bite at the slightest move.

She doesn’t say anything, actually. Not to you, anyway. Your hands are only so-so at blocking noise, and you can hear her going they’re fine, don’t worry to the occasional concerned civilian troubled enough to ask your companion about you.

You can feel something in front of your face and open your eyes just a bit. It’s her phone, a message typed out in her notes app.

Leave or stay here? It says.

You lean your head to the left a bit.

Fallon takes it back. My place or yours?

Your head snaps left once more. Your roommate works from home and, while she’s sweet, if you have to listen to one of her horrible meetings you think you’ll explode.

You look down again and read the next line.

Let me pay for the food, grab our coats, and call the driver. Stay here.

You nod just a little, hands still over your ears. You knew you should keep a pair of earplugs in your pocket.

Fallon does just as she said she would (or, at least you hope so, given all you can verify is that she’s holding your coat and ushering you into the black Suburban. You like that restaurant, and the last thing you need is for them to put you on their “do not seat” list for nonpayment). The driver, who’s always been understanding of your needs, keeps the car silent as he takes you and Fallon down backroads and through the suburbs.

He doesn’t even say anything as he drops you and Fallon off at her expensive condo, giving her a nod in the rearview mirror that she returns equally silently.

You know lots of people don’t like Fallon, that much has been clear since you were paired for a project in one of your advanced marketing classes. But the parts of her everyone seems to dislike (or worse, actively hate) are all the things you admire most about her; her drive, her stubbornness, how she gets whatever she wants. When you first met, you’d spent your whole life denying yourself anything slightly out of the ordinary. You’d deny yourself anything your mother would’ve considered frivolous and followed every rule placed upon you.

It was horrible. You had felt trapped, walking into that marketing class. Every day an anvil would settle itself atop your chest, painfully crushing your ribs. Meeting Fallon was a true breath of fresh air. She helped you, in her own way, helping to stand up to professors with bones to pick and fellow students who tried to take advantage.

In that same strange, wonderful way, she guides you up the steps of her home, silently instructing you to lay on the couch. There, she piles fancy blankets on top of you (three, to be exact), from thickest to thinnest. She then grabs you a glass of water, cold, from her fridge dispenser.

“You want to watch something?” Fallon asks. You nod, just a little. “Blink once for something you’ve seen before, twice for something irrelevant to your interests.”

You blink once.

She follows your request without comment, sitting so that the side of her thigh presses into your head.

“Thank you,” you say after a while, voice small. For a moment, you’re not sure Fallon hears you. The thick blankets surely muffle your voice, the sound barely audible as the sounds of some television show you’ve seen a thousand times play on her flatscreen television.

Fallon’s hand, once dropped over your shoulder, comes down to cup your face. The position is awkward, but that doesn’t stop her thumb rubs over your heated cheek. “Anytime.”

#fallon carrington x reader #fallon carrington #fallon carrington fanfic #fallon carrington/reader #lukis writes stuff #lukis does commissions #id apologize for not writing for so long but ill be honest.#it is a miracle i am alive

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goodneighborxfallout · 1 year

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[Trigger Warning-Suicide] How would romanced male companions react to walking into A female Sole about to kill themselves?

Trigger warning!! Read at your own discretion. If you are thinking about committing suicide, please talk to someone you trust, call the suicide hotline of your country and/or go visit your doctor or a psychologist. If you want to talk to me about it, you are always welcome to send me a message.

Fact about suicide: Most people who are suicidal don't actually want to die, they just don't know how else to make it stop. Talk to someone, there are people who can help!

A/N: I don't think all characters would go for a careful approach (like Gage), so I wrote them the way I think they'd react, even if that might be the exact opposite of what a suicidal person needs at the moment. Please, keep in mind that this is fictional: even if I made the companions successful in talking down Sole, I myself don't know how best to approach someone who is suicidal so some/most/all of their reactions may not be effective or appropriate. Also, I am under no illusion that talking someone down from suicide is this easy or that it will always have the desired outcome, but again this is fictional.

Danse

Pre-BB: His soldier instincts will kick in. All he sees is someone about to die. His brain doesn’t yet recognize that you’re doing it to yourself, so he will forcefully stop you in order to save you, only fully realizing what’s going on once he sees your distraught face. He’ll look at you in shock, unable to get any words out. Then he’ll just move in closer and hug you tightly, letting you cry in his arms. He’ll bring you over to Cade whether you want to or not and stay with you the entire time, holding your hand.

Post BB: Panics. He will desperately try to talk you down from what you’re doing but he won’t approach you, scared that he’ll push you over the edge by doing so. He’ll cry and beg you not to do it, telling you that he needs you and suddenly an overwhelming feeling of guilt overcomes him. You’ve been piecing him together all this time while you yourself were struggling…

Deacon

Freezes. It takes him a few moments to just simply say your name, grabbing your attention.

“Sole, what are you doing?”

His heart is beating loudly in his chest, he’s terrified to say anything because he has no idea what might push you over the edge.

“I can’t do it anymore, Deacon,” you cry and it breaks his heart.

How had he never noticed that you were struggling? How was he so oblivious? With everything you’ve been through, it was to be expected, and yet… it had never once crossed his mind.

And now he’s panicking. “Look, I know I’m not the most sensitive guy, I-I’m not the right person to talk to about feelings and all that, but I’m here for you. You can talk to me, please talk to me…”

You hesitate for a few seconds, but you nod and break down in his arms. Deacon will try his hardest to comfort you during the next hours until you’ve fallen asleep, upon which he will immediately run to Carrington begging for help.

Gage

Gage will be scared, but he’s so used to hiding it behind anger and annoyance that he can’t help but do the same even during a sensitive situation like this.

“You better not go through with that,” he says almost threateningly. “You wanna commit suicide? You can still do that tomorrow, next week, or literally any other time! But if you do it now, you’ll never be able to see or talk to me again and you owe me an explanation if you’re gonna pull this shit on me!”

Miraculously, his speech guilts you enough to make you stop - which isn’t something he’s particularly proud of or anything, but hey at least it worked. He instantly has his arms around you and won’t let you out of his sight for days while simultaneously arranging for the gang leader of your choice to temporarily take over as Overboss so he can take you back to the Commonwealth and get you some help.

Hancock

Hancock has seen some stuff in Goodneighbor. It's a rough life and you aren't the first one to try and end things. That also means he’s seen multiple attempts by others to talk these people down, some of which failed. He isn’t going to take that chance with you.

He has his arms around you before you even knew he was there and he holds you tightly against him so you’re unable to do anything anymore.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growls in your ear. He doesn't mean to sound angry, but much like Gage he was scared and too used to masking his fear. However, he instantly calms down once he hears you whimper and break down.

You cry apologies against his shoulder which he quickly hushes. “It’s okay, we’ll get you whatever help you need. Just don’t do this to me, sweetheart.”

MacCready

“Woah, hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

Mac grabs your arm in anger, spinning you around to him. That’s when he sees your tear-stained face. You start crying harder upon seeing his anger and literally break down. However, Mac quickly catches you and pulls you against him in shock.

“It’s okay,” he says, his anger already long gone. “It’s okay, just talk to me please. What happened?”

Mac will be worried sick about you and ask around everywhere for help. It doesn’t matter if he has to walk all the way to the Mojave with you, he will get you whatever help you need.

Nick

Nick feels instantly guilty when he stumbles upon you about to commit suicide. He’s always acknowledged your pain, but he also always kept the conversations about it short. He hid his own pain by focusing on helping others, and he now realizes he pushed you to do the same, even though you were really the one who needed help.

He says your name quietly, grabbing your attention. “Is there anything I can do to make things better for you?”

You can't answer that, because if you knew of a way to make things better, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. But the fact that he asks, that someone cares causes you to break down and you are unable to execute your plan at the moment. Nick takes this as his chance to take you in his arms. “Let’s go see doctor Sun.”

Preston

“Sole? What are you doing?”

Preston will be in tears just seeing what you are about to do. He’s told you about his own suicidal thoughts before, so why had you not trusted him enough to do the same? He has your back, do you not know that?

Seeing how badly he is hurting, you can’t go through with it at that moment, so instead you run to him and hide in his arms, crying. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand… Why? Why did you never tell me?”

X6-88

Another companion who will forcefully stop you. X6 doesn’t think he’s the right person for you to talk to about what you are going through, so he takes you back to the Institute without a word and drags you over to doctor Volkert.

You might think he’s mad at you, but in reality, he’s experiencing ‘panic’ for the first time in his life and it almost causes him to stop functioning altogether.

#fallout 4 #fallout reactions #fallout 4 companion react #fallout 4 reactions #fo4 reactions #fo4 companions react #fo4 companions #fo4 #danse #deacon #porter gage #gage #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #nick #preston garvey #preston #x6 88

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liriostigre · 3 months

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Hiiii ty for such a great uquiz!! Would it be possible to see the description of all the books you could get matched to? I’m curious what the vibes are for the rest!!

hi 🌷 here you go:

White Teeth by Zadie Smith: Excessive, maximalist and very ambitious multigenerational and multicultural epic novel that starts with the unlikely friendship between Archie Jones and Samad Iqbal. It explores themes of race, identity and the intersections of culture, heritage, and modernity. Clever and hilarious dialogue, very creative when it comes to language and style, unique and bold when it comes to narrative. Perhaps a flawed novel due to its ambition, but excellent nonetheless.

Despair by Vladimir Nabokov: Excellent writing; very ambitious and stylish. It is somewhat a twisted novel but you will find a lot of humor despite. The narrator speaks directly to the reader as he writes what he regards as his perfect crime. This novel is one of Nabokov's earliest works in which one can easily identify themes and literary devices that the author explored later in his most known works.

The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño: Brilliant and stunning novel about poets and poetry! Very dense and challenging; it requires patience from the reader. This novel is so infinitely dear to me that i can't even explain its brilliance, but i have to give you at least an idea of the plot so: The story is arranged in three parts and told from multiple points of view. It starts in Mexico City, in the 70s, and continues across decades and continents. It follows the adventures and misadventures of Arturo Belano and Ulises Lima—poets, drug dealers, wanderes, criminals. Now, about the themes, the writing, the style, the narration? Just absolutely perfect even at its most tedious, difficult and anticlimactic parts.

The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington: Unconventional, absurd, imaginative and exuberantly surreal apocalyptic fairytale quest. It follows 92 year old Marian who is sent off to a peculiar old-age home. If you aren't familiar with Leanora Carrington's art you should look at some of her paintings because this wonderful novel feels just like her surrealist paintings!

Mrs. Caliban by Rachel Ingalls: This novella tells the story of a love affair between a depressed suburban housewife and an amphibian creature who escaped a scientific research center. It might sound like a quirky fiction story but it actually deals with the most mundane and banal aspects of life and human relationships. Brilliantly written; neat and precise prose, wonderful storytelling. The author knew what she was doing and not a single word she wrote was wasted.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton: Delicately written little adventure about tiny people who live in the secret places of houses. I am enamored (obsessed!!) with miniatures—dollhouses, dioramas, fairies—so imagine how dear this book is to me.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn: The murders of two girls bring reporter Camille Preaker back to her hometown. As she works to uncover the truth about those crimes, Camille finds herself forced to unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past. Very entertaining read. It has best seller written all over it (which might not be the biggest compliment lol but i mean for this genre so it is a compliment).

Rage by Sergio Bizzio: Claustrophobic, anxiety inducing, fast-paced psychological thriller that made me think of Bong Joon-ho's Parasite the whole 4 hours it took me to read it. I read it in it's original language, Spanish, and i particularly loved the dialogue; its idiosyncrasies and authenticity (tqm Argentina!)

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby: Rob, an obsessive music fan, reminisces his top five worst break ups to understand his most recent heartbreak. He is a very arrogant and cynical guy who defines his entire life through records, and because he is constantly interacting with music that almost exclusively deals with love—and a very idealistic version of it—he finds himself unsatisfied with the way his life has turned out.

#so sorry it took me so long to reply!!#idk if you meant of ALL the quizzes... 👀 anyone these are 2023's only 🫣#💌#anyway* lol not anyone

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everydayyoulovemeless · 11 months

Text

Mystery Swim ↠ Deacon x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Summary » You go swimming to find the Yangtze only for Deacon to start worrying about you getting sick from the water.

“I know I said you should go check it out but I didn’t actually mean it! God, you’re freezing!” Deacon frantically spoke, pulling you out of the ocean's cold grasp.

“Ha! That kid wasn’t lying! There’s a submarine out there!” You exclaimed, shuddering as the cold night air stung your glistening skin.

“Yeah, that’s great.” He said dismissively, “We gotta get you to Carrington before you die."

The old harbor docks creaked under your weight as you climbed out of the murky water. It clung to your clothes and you began ringing out puddles from the bottom of your shirt once you found yourself on stable ground again.

“A cold's not gonna kill me Deek.” You laughed, still excited at your discovery. It wasn't every day you found something so incredibly pre-war—especially since it still happened to work!

His hands gripped your shoulders potently, concern evident on his face, “You never know out here. And what about the radiation? Come on, we’re going back to the church.” He spoke quickly, spinning you around and pushing you onward toward the base to get you looked over.

"What's got you so worried?" You chuckled, opting to follow along with where he was guiding you to move. "I've been through worse."

"I know, It's just—I dunno, it feels like there was a lot at risk this time."

"What, were you scared I wasn't gonna resurface?" You meant it teasingly but you felt his hands subtly tense on your shoulders. Softer this time, you spoke, "Quit worrying so much about me, Deek, I know what the risks are."

"Yeah, yeah, I just—it took you a minute before you came back and—well—" He trailed off once the church was in sight, the small lantern that resided beside the doorway illuminating the space surrounding it, beckoning you toward the entrance. "Here we are." He breathed out, seemingly relieved at being able to see the familiar building.

“(Y/N) is fine, just a slightly lower temperature, but that’s to be expected,” Carrington announced, waving you off, desperately wanting the two of you to leave his corner.

You glanced up at your companion, who stood directly behind your chair, still fidgeting with his hands. "What'd I tell ya? I knew what I was doing."

“Yeah, whatever. Nothing wrong with being cautious.” He draped a tattered coat around your shoulders as he spoke.

“Are you sure it was just caution? It seemed to me like a little more.” You edged him on. Sure, Deacon was cautious, but you don't ever think you've seen him this worried about you before. It was endearing, to say the least.

He flicked the back of your head lightly, “That’s all it was. Now, tell me about that submarine you saw? Was there anyone still left inside? Wait a second, don't tell me—you saw a ghost, didn't you?"

You giggled at his sudden change, wrapping the sides of the jacket around your damp form as you told him all about what you saw. You'd dig deeper into Deacon's conscious later, for now just knowing how much he cares for you is enough.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #fo4 fanfic #deacon #deacon fallout 4 #deacon fo4 #fo4 deacon #fallout 4 deacon #fo4 fanfiction #deacon x sole survivor #deacon x reader #deacon x sole #deacon fanfic #deacon fanfiction

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theflowerofthecommonwealth · 1 year

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How do you think the companions would react to stubbing their pinkie toe on something? Who cries? Who screams or swears (fuck, shite, etc)? Who just bite their lip and walks away, trying to walk it off? So on and so forth.

Gosh dangit, I hate this when it happens to me, it hurts way more than it should!

Nick Valentine: Bangs his foot quite often often on his desk or chair, but the pain never gets easier. He curses the Institute under his breath for programming him to feel pain and for the vivid memories of old Nick banging his toe while also working at his desk. It’s especially frustrating when he’s working intensely on case that’s been bugging him and this is what interrupts him.

Piper Wright: Was running around her office trying to get her latest paper printed out in time for the morning, but she passes a little too close to her printer press and there’s a bang loud enough to wake up Nat and all her neighbors. The reporter drops all her papers and lets them scatter on the floor, hopping to her chair while she hisses with the pain. She gets a now awake Nat to bring her an ice pack and a Nuka Cola to help distract her from her throbbing toe.

Codsworth: He doesn’t have feet. (Remembers that cursed YouTube video with Codsworth with legs) Oh God help me, I need to bleach my eyes.

Preston Garvey: Was helping around Sanctuary with little repairs when he gets too close to a workbench, resulting in him crouching over and grabbing his foot while trying to muffle his curses as there are children settlers around. It may hurt like hell, but he’s still gotta be a good role model for the kids to look up to. (I love this guy)

Curie: She was drooping with exhaustion and walking around half awake the clinic she was helping at, long overdue for a break. Just when she was about to walk off to finally have a rest, an evil wall corner makes contact with her toes and she falls over with a pained cry, shaking out her foot. Everyone within a mile radius is running over to offer their hands to help the poor overworked woman back up and onto a sofa for a much deserved nap.

Cait: She doesn't care who is around or where she currently is, every swear word in the book is leaving her mouth as Cait punches whatever happens to be nearby in frustration. Preston has to run over and help her hobble away so she’s no longer frightening the settlers and their children.

Deacon HAS to play it cool when he smashes his toe on a stone coffin the the Railroad HQ because he just finished bugging Carrington and this mistake will ruin the joke and give everyone a reason to poke fun at him. He waddles out of HQ like a penguin, waiting until he far away to start yowling like a wounded cat.

Danse: Bangs it on the corner of a wall almost immediately after exiting his Power Armor. His entire face goes all scrunchy and red as he bites back a yowl of pain, forcing himself to hobble to the nearest chair. If anyone is around to ask if he is alright, Danse will responded with a very strained “Yes.” and a nod.

Hancock: Straight up asks the table why they gotta do him dirty like that and attack his favorite toe. He’s pretty sure that he’s the one who purchased said table and gave it a good home when it was about to be turned into fire scrap, so for it to suddenly turn on him was completely uncalled for backstab.

MacCready: Does a silent scream while he cradled his injured foot and hops around on the other. He gets all tight faced and looks like he is just really constipated with how he waddles around tight cheeked, he’s really hoping no one walks by for awhile until he can regain himself. For the rest of the day, he has a little furrow to his brow.

X6: One would assume he didn’t feel any pain as he walks on without taking much notice to the fact that he just smashed his toe into a bed frame hard enough to break it. But he’s actually dying and screaming internally the whole time, and if you could see his eyes it would be a window straight into his pained stricken soul.

Strong: Was lumbering around a settlement and passing by a log. He glares intensely down at the log with pure rage and fury in his face, exclaiming “Strong smash puny wood!” The super mutant proceeds to kick said log until it’s a bunch of tiny splinters on the ground, then he has to go to Sole for help because he got a bunch of them logged into his fingers.

Moral Of The Story: Don’t EVER look up Codsworth with legs. (Seriously, don't)

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout companions #nick valentine #piper wright #strong #x6 88 #preston #paladin danse #maccready #robert joseph maccready #john hancock #danse #dogmeat #cait #curie #codsworth #fallout 4 companions

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 10 months

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 8

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 7/27/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “What were you doing? You look guilty of something.”

It’s been seven months since New York. I had a really hard time with my decision to not reach out to Dieter initially. Truth be told, I felt like I had lost a small piece of myself as soon as I deleted his number. I could still feel the hollow place to this day, but I made peace with my decision. It’s what I needed to do for me to get to a better place. I was so afraid of losing myself to someone again and I didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with it back then. Lauren still gave me absolute hell over my decision on a weekly basis.

I went through a lot of changes during those months. I had been going to therapy regularly, really trying to focus on my mental health. I was learning more about how my marriage had affected me and often wondered how I ever let it get to that point. I was smarter than that and should have realized it sooner. My therapist had mentioned PTSD several times, but I refused to accept that diagnosis. I didn’t want to allow Justin to have that kind of lasting effect on me. The anxiety and depression I one hundred percent agreed with though. Anxiety was something I have struggled with my whole life and had managed fairly well until recent events. The depression was the result of the sometimes-debilitating anxiety episodes. I felt that having someone to just talk to about it really helped. I had opted out of medication even though she brought it up several times. I really felt like I could do it on my own, and I was. I was starting to feel like my old self. How I was before Justin came into the picture. I was slowly deprograming myself so that I was no longer the person he molded me into. In fact, I think I had made it a personal mission to be the exact opposite of what he had expected. It felt very empowering.

The contract from the New York trip ended successfully. The measures that Carrington had allowed me to put into place before I left caught Jay Brooks in the act. Multiple times in fact. He was currently awaiting trial in jail for a long list of charges. I actually wished I could have been there to see his face when he came into work and was immediately arrested on the spot. Carrington was so happy with the work that he was jokingly threatening to steal me away from Aubrey, but I would never consider moving to New York. I did let him know I was available anytime he needed my consultation services though. He had started spreading the word about my skills and calls were starting to come in for new contracts. I was unable to take them all on, but Aubrey assured the clients I would be supervising the reviews. The whole experience had done wonders for my confidence, and I was proud of myself for pulling it off.

True to her word, Aubrey did give me a big bonus and a promotion. I was now the Regional Director. It was more of a supervising and mentoring role that required less travel and allowed me to work from home most days. She offered it with the caveat that I handle any of the major accounts. She didn’t trust anyone else with those. Luckily, there were not many that fell into that category.

With all my newfound free time, I had taken up crafting again. It helped me relax. Lauren encouraged my hobbies and actually put out a lot of what I made for sale in her shop. I appreciated her enthusiasm and support. Most things didn’t last long before they sold, which was an added mood booster that I wasn’t expecting. I had started working out and exercising regularly, which was a huge stress reliever most days. I had also cut back on the drinking, which honestly had started to make me feel like shit. I was well aware that I had been using it as an unhealthy coping mechanism and made a point to only drink occasionally and never when I was spiraling. With all these changes in place, I could feel my confidence growing and I was questioning myself less and less every day. I was learning how to be myself and not care about what I should or should not do or say. I wanted to live my life how I wanted to live it. The opinions of others be damned.

I was content for the most part. However, I would be lying if I said my mind didn’t wander to thoughts of Dieter at least a few times a week. I just couldn’t fully get him out of my head. I could still feel his magnetic pull calling to me, wherever he was.

It was a Wednesday, and I was sitting on my couch when thoughts of him started again. I finally broke and checked his Instagram account. The last few posts from three weeks ago were shots of him filming in some exotic location for the movie role he had landed. It was all behind the scenes stuff with his cast mates. It was hard to not feel a twinge of jealousy at the sight of him with the pretty blonde that was starring in the movie with him. She was next to him in every group picture, touching him in some way. I can’t say I blamed her for trying.

I decided to google his name to see if any news articles came up. There was a new post from TMZ that had paparazzi pictures taken in LA dated yesterday. I felt my chest tighten knowing he was in the same city as me. I often wondered what would happen if I randomly ran into him in town. It would always cause that familiar panicky feeling to bubble up in my chest. I wasn’t sure how I would react if that happened. I did feel bad for not reaching out to him like he asked. Would he even acknowledge me if he saw me out? Then again, we had made it this long without ever running into each other, so I doubted it would happen. Fate of course, always had her own plans.

While I was sitting, continuing to scroll through news articles, Lauren walked in the front door. I had been expecting her because we had planned to grab lunch. I must have had a look like I had just gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar because she froze, giving me a suspicious look.

“What?” I said innocently.

“What were you doing? You look guilty of something.”

“No, I was just catching up on today's news.”

“Today’s Dieter news?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to know what he is doing.”

“Let me see your phone then.”

She stuck her hand out in front of me. I knitted my brows together and told her no, giving her a pestilent look as I tucked it under me. She laughed.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make it obvious. I’m not stupid. I know you must be checking up on him. I would be. Actually… I do. Often. You know he’s back in LA? Filming wrapped on that movie he was working on.”

“That’s great. I don’t care. I told you; I’m moving on and I don’t need a man to muddle things up right now. I’ve been doing great without one.”

“Mmmhmm. Right. Anyway, are you ready to go because I’m starving?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my shoes and bag.”

We headed to a small cafe not far away and had a light lunch. Afterwards, Lauren wanted to stop in at her favorite smoothie shop for “desert” as she called it. It was ridiculously busy, but I humored her. We put in our order, grabbed some napkins and straws, and went to sit in one of the small booths in the back corner to wait. I sensed him before I saw him. Lauren immediately noticed my change in demeanor as my head shot up, looking around the front entrance.

“What’s wrong?” she said with a concerned look.

“Nothing…I-I…”

I became motionless as soon as I saw his side profile. He was looking at the menu on the wall across from the counter. He briefly stilled too, suddenly looking around, not noticing me sliding down in my seat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… change seats with me,” I whisper yelled at her.

“What is going on?” she said unnecessarily loudly.

“He’s here. By the menu on the wall.”

Her head snapped around to stare in his direction. I picked up a straw and threw it at her.

“Stop it!”

She quickly turned back to see my panicked expression. She looked torn on what to do.

“Change seats with me, but don’t be obvious. Go get another straw or something.”

She got up very stiffly with wide eyes and walked to the straw and napkin station while I tried to be low key about switching seats, putting my back toward him. I turned my head slightly to watch Lauren. She was very blatantly staring at him as she walked back, not noticing the chair in front of her. She walked into it causing it to screech across the floor as she caught herself from falling on it. It got quiet and every head in the establishment turned to look at her, including Dieter’s. She gave a small laugh and made an “oops” face as she continued walking. I buried my face in my hands, sinking lower in the seat, desperately trying to not draw attention to myself. She took a long route back to our table, looking mortified as she sat back down in my previous spot and mouthed a “sorry” toward me. I just shook my head at her.

“I’ve got to get out of here, let me know when he’s ordering, and I’ll leave.”

“Really? You’re not going to talk to him?”

“Nope and don’t argue with me about it. I can’t deal with that right now.”

For the first time in months, I felt like I was about to have a full blown panic attack. I could feel my heart racing and my breathing was becoming shallow. Lauren could actually see the panic on my face.

“Ok. Yeah, just go to the car. I’ll meet you there with our drinks.”

After several minutes of him waiting in line, he finally made it to the register. Lauren gave me the signal. I took a deep breath, kept my head down, and got up to move toward the door. I tried to move calmly so I didn’t bring attention to myself. After I exited the building, I stopped briefly, thinking that I had left my phone. I quickly found it in my purse, walked until I was out of view from the shop, then took off into a jog to where the car was parked on the side of the street.

I got in the car and sat down, trying to steady my breathing. I suddenly noticed movement in the direction I came from. Dieter was standing on the sidewalk in front of the shop, looking in my general direction. Shit, did he see me? I scooted down in the seat. He looked around for a minute, excitement quickly turning to defeat when he didn’t find his target. His shoulders and head dropped as he turned to walk back inside, bumping into Lauren as she exited the building, nearly making her drop the drinks. She stared up at him in shock while he was clearly apologizing to her. I could see her nod and mouth “no problem” toward him. She continued to stare at him as she walked away. He went back inside, none the wiser as to who he had just bumped into. Her eyes were wide as she picked up speed in her walk. She handed me the drinks through the window, then got into the passenger side.

“That was fucking crazy. Also, he is taller than I expected and lot hotter in person.”

Her eyes were still wide as she spoke.

“What was he doing?”

“I think he saw you through the window. He turned around when he finished ordering and just took off out the door.”

“Fucking hell. I can’t believe that just happened.”

I put my head down on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, willing my breathing and heart to slow down.

I settled back into my seat once I had calmed down some. Started the car and headed back toward my house. We didn’t speak the entire way. By the way Lauren kept glancing over at me, I think she was fully expecting a meltdown, but I kept it together.

When we walked inside, I sat on the couch, leaning back with the palms of my hands over my eyes.

“Ok, hear me out.”

I peeked at her through my fingers.

“I think you should DM him.”

I started shaking my head from side to side as I slammed my hands down to my sides on the couch.

“Clearly, he wants to see you again. There is no denying that man was on a mission.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t know what that was that happened in New York, but it was too much. I can’t and don’t want to deal with man drama right now. I’ve been doing great. I don’t want to ruin it by getting emotionally screwed over by another guy.”

“You don’t know that he is going to screw you over.”

I gave her a look of disbelief.

“He’s famous, he travels all the time, and constantly has women fawning over him. He even admitted he was emotionally fucked up in a roundabout way. Why in the hell would I want to deal with that? It’s going to take more than a perfectly chiseled face and hot body to make me want to get mixed up in that.”

She rolled her eyes at me while she gathered up her things to leave.

“Look, just think about it, ok? Clearly ‘the powers that be’ keep throwing you guys together for a reason. Maybe it’s a sign.”

She shrugged, then walked toward the front door to leave without saying another word.

I sat there running through every possible scenario of how things could go if I did reach out to him. Most of them were not good. I sighed as I thought about our last night together. That brief moment when he let the walls down and looked like a broken man who had found his deliverance from whatever it was that haunted him. Did I want to risk losing myself to someone else again? Because I felt like that's what would happen. I knew he would consume everything I had left, and I would let him.

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I jumped up, deciding I needed a distraction. I changed clothes and jumped on the treadmill for a run. I didn’t give Dieter another thought for the rest of the day. Next Chapter

A/N: I hope this makes up for the cliffy at the end of last chapter. Don't worry, the 'powers that be' do in fact have plans for these two. Just remember that as we work through their shit. 😊

Tag List: @rhoorl

#pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you #destiny & deliverance series #pedro pascal fanfic #pedropascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal characters #pedro boys #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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the-fandom-abyss · 2 years

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Unwanted Attention

Fallon Carrington x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff ♡

Word Count: 663 words

You have attended many gatherings at the Carrington Mansion, and somehow they outdo the last. It's that time of year where employees, investors, family and everyone in between come together and have a night to remember. As glamorous as these nights sound, there are always hiccups along the way. For instance, tonight a employee of the family stood across the room from you. Their eyes wandered the length of your body, a sly smirk perched on his lips. He believed he looked appealing, while in reality, he looked like a predator wishing to devour his prey. This prey just happened to be you, what an unlucky turn of events for both of you. When he was ready to make his move, he slinked his way through the crowd until he was in your space.

Without sparing him another glance, you stated your intentions. "I would suggest, you move away from me, if you'd like to keep your job". The tone in your voice should have scared him away but this man liked a challenge.

"Like you have the power" he fought back, another belittling man to assume your worth.

"No I don't, but my partner does"

"Don't tell me you're with Blake"

"Ew, god no!" The look pure disgust would have offended the man in question. Instant relief flooded the mans features, clearly afraid of what Blake could do and would do to him.

"Steven?" This was more of a long shot, he knew Steven was otherwise inclined but he needed to be sure.

"He's gay" the statement was drawled out, like you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This man was dumb and blind, like he had a chance with you.

"I would turn for a woman like you" his sickly sweet tone made you shiver, his insinuation was more than disgusting. He took this opportunity to move closer to you, your arm grazing his, his fingers smoothing out the edge of your dress.

"Again, no"

"Well wh-"

Just as you were about to move from his grasp, a voice appeared behind you. "Is this man bothering you?"

"Yes, actually" Instinctively, you moved closer to the person behind you, grateful for the safety net. The man watched with curious eyes at the action, wanting to reach out and pull you closer.

"Miss Carrington, it’s just a little disagreement, my girlfriend can get a bit outspoken" Fallon scoffed at his pathetic reasoning, her glare never wavering.

"And here I thought she was mine" Fallon snaked her arm around your waist, resting her hand comfortably on your hip. His eyes followed the motion, growing wide at her strategically placed hand.

"Run" you mouthed, a sinister smile replaced its previous form. It was with pure joy to watch as the man opened and closed his mouth. Before scattering amongst the crowd in fear that Fallon would catch him. Little did he know, she would do far worse to him than catch him, she will ruin any chance of a professional life as soon as the night was over.

With her hand, she spun you around, her hand now placed on your lower back. Concern swirled behind the chocolate brown, she couldn’t stand the idea of someone touching what’s hers. "Did he touch you?"

"No, he was just disgusting"

"I'll make sure to wash you clean of him" she offered a wink, paired with her classic smirk.

"Can we add the bubbles that I like?" Her smirk melted into a smile at the excitement that vibrated off you. She couldn’t deny how it made her cold heart skip a beat, she just had to accept that she was putty in your hand.

"If you're lucky" Fallon traveled her hand up your body, creating goosebumps where her fingers touched. She cradled your cheek, before leaning in, her lips melting with yours. For you it was a moment of bliss, for her it was a statement. If they want to get to you, they’ll have to go through Fallon.

#dynasty #dynasty imagine #fallon carrington #fallon carrington imagine #fallon carrington x reader #dynasty x reader

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gyubby99 · 10 months

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@disneyanddisneyships MORE MAL LORE?!?!?!?!?

So as far as we know this is what she looked like in her past life

So- as we all know.. again

Full name: Mallory Carrington

Age of death: 20 (2010's)

Nationality: 🇯🇵🇺🇸

So.. we're only going to talk about her life. Cast aside the hell part.

No specific year of birth but probably in the early 1990's

Just some background for her parents.. and then leading up to Mal!

No picrews of them yet 😔 (i promise I'll make them)

Her mom was originally named 'Tsubaki', but she had to move to the US wherein people were oddly unaccepting of foreign people like her and she badly needed a job to fend for herself and her family (she came from a non-priveleged family) so she changed her name to "Carmellia" and that's when she got a job as a waitress at a restaurant that pays well, and that's when she met Mal's dad. His name was James Carrington.

He was.. ok. Carmellia was fresh out of college and he was.. barely getting through life in his mid-20's. He works as a pharmacy cashier, lives alone and everything. Seems like a simple guy.

Right?

So, they met when Carmellia was getting some remedy for a cold. He was stunned because he thinks she's the most beautiful woman that's ever graced this country so.. they make a little small talk, and the third time she came there, he asked for her number.

Carmellia was new to love and she didn't know how to handle it so she gave him her number. They called, they got to know each other, James visited her often in the restaurant, they dated, and for a while it was perfect.

No tf it's not. He was an alcoholic. An addict. Always put Carmellia on the spot when she didn't want to. Drew unwated attention on her.. physically hurt her when he got too drunk.. I guess in his head he thought he finally found someone who tolerates his bs. Cause lemme tell you this guy is one of those guys most likely to say "Everyone always leaves me" like they're the problem.

Carmellia stayed for a while, because as much as he kept abusing her like that, he kept coming around and she felt stuck, and it became a cycle.

And hoo boy when they got married, She almost couldn't see her family because of him. James thought he had free reign over her now.

Then he starts hitting her with the "You really think I'd ever love a foreigner like you?"

Carmellia never knew what to do.. she had nothing to go on for.. she almost wanted to pull a Carolyn Brennan until one day she just started feeling sick. She threw up frequently, had cravings, so she went to the doctor, and they suggested she took a pregnancy test.

Then she saw it. Two lines. Positive.

And when she saw that, she finally had a choice. She ran away from her and James' home, went back to ger country to live with her parents. James tried his best to find her, but everytime he reached out she never responded.

Until a month after Carmellia gave birth, he finally found her. She tried telling him off, but it was no use. She let him stay with her for a month, and he swore he would change.

So a month later. Carmellia gave birth (yay) and it was a baby girl. She wanted to pick out a name, and she wanted it to be like her old Japanese name. So she decided she would name her "Hotaru" which meant firefly, because in their culture fireflies are a beloved. A metaphor for love and passion for poetry, or something along the lines of that.

James opposed, and said that it wouldn't be accepted in his country (why is that his concern lmao) and said that he has a hard time pronouncing it (cry harder bitch) and so he decided to name her "Mallory".

At first Carmellia hesitated, and said it would mean a lot for her, but James said it was for the best. And so they went with "Mallory", which meant "unfortune". Now Carmellia is very serious on name studying, and questioned James on this, but James just said "does it actually matter? Why do you make everything a big deal?"

So she just dismissed the thought of her husband calling his own daughter a misfortune. Bad luck.

And soooo few months after Mallory was born, James just kept stressing Carmellia out more, going back to his old ways once again. So carmellia dumped divorce papers onto his face one day and he was livid. He said he didn't do anything wrong and told her that she was just like the others leaving him.

Carmellia had enough of it. And at the end James ended up signing it, and unfortunately Mallory was left under his care. He convinced them she was deranged and that he never actually abused her physically so that he wouldn't get a restraining order.

Still, they had an agreement that she would have her daughter for two or three months, then the rest was with him. And so every summer vacation or christmas vacation she's with her mom. Growing up she learned to be fluent in her mom's language, even taking summer classes for it when she can.

Now.. James as a dad.. is pretty.. eh. He pays more attention on other things that his siblings and relatives had to take care of her more. He still takes care of her somehow.. but he does the bare minimum. His relatives basically RAISED her. But Mallory was clueless about it, and she loved both of her parents equally.

So, growing up, Mallory really liked to sing. And so both her parents sent her to do choir classes. She had a long way to go, and people never really seemed to like her because she was mixed which is weird because they were kids and who even taught them that. Anywho, she never had any friends.. just acquaintances. Even in school.

Well.. not until she met someone by the name of Lillian Carlton. Her and Lilly hit it off immediately and they became the best of friends. Even James and Deborah became sorta friends. Lilly helped with her bullies a lot, and Mallory learned to defend herself and her friend.

So, Mallory.. onto her crushes.. she never really had one. She wasn't big on that. Everyone was mean to her. She likes nice people, and none of them were.

So, I guess Lilly WAS her first crush. At first she was a bit confused because she thought of Lilly like a girl would of a boy she had a crush on.

Confused bb gorl.

She had a crush on the nice girl with cute glasses. But that went away in time.. but ever since she did have that silly lil crush

They remained friends. They were two peas in a pod. They even got their first period at the same time and joked about being in sync all the time. They bonded over music. Fought over who's the hottest one direction member between Zayn and Niall. The most 2000's-2010's teenagers that have ever teenager'ed

So, with her first crush AND bestfriend, she got out of grade school. And here's where the real torture began.

Seventh grade.

She was becoming more open-minded about certain stuff. More curious also.

That's also the age where she would come home to her father drunk off his ass.

One time he went all out on her..

He was like, "you were the reason your mother left! You're why I'm like this. All hell broke loose the moment you were born. You bring nothing but unfortune to my life."

Mallory figured he was just drunk, so her AT THE TENDER AGE OF TWELVE, Took care of her drunk dad, and it ultimately lead to him dying because of all his vices. She was 13 when he did. But those words stuck on her head for a long time.. until it became voices.

So, her uncle and aunt had to take James' place.

Lilly was always there for her, though. When she heard about James passing away, she ran to comfort Mallory. She had no clue of everything that's happened in her life. She trusted Lilly, but she was just scared.

So under her uncle's care.. we all know how that ended up. She was molested at 13. When she turned 15, she ran away from home, something her dad's side of the family never really cared about. So they just pronounced her dead.

But her mom.. she wanted to look for her. She fled Japan and looked for her in every possible place she could think of. She asked Lilly.. Deborah and Charles.. she wanted her baby to be alive.. to be okay.. but she just couldn't find her. Despite her in-laws saying she was dead, she had a feeling she wasn't. There was no body found. She still put up posters, asked random people... anything. Anything for her daughter. Her little firefly.

Carmellia, after a while.. broke down. She went absolutely insane. She went to delusion.. she believed her daughter was still there.. that Mallory was out there.. needing her help.

But Mallory.. where was she? She hid herself from the world. From whoever could recognize her. she was, and have always been a great liar.

No one found her. No one could. She was keeping the bad luck away from everyone. Then she started to get angry.. if she was going to change everyone's life for the worse then so be it. She killed a man at the age of seventeen. Some mafia took her in, taught her things.. basically grooming her in the process.. she had nothing else to live for. She began referring to herself as "Mal."

Not until Lilly came across her somewhere. She tried convincing her, but Mal only lashed out on her for trying to help. She said she didn't need it, and told Lilly to have a family with Jace.. to never ever end up like her. A mess. A monster. She will just change everyone's life for the worst anyway..

So, they drifted apart.. and Carmellia's insanity ended up killing her. It ended up on the news, but Mal only felt spite. Because she thinks her mom never cared when she went missing. Her mom probably thought she was bad luck, just like what her father said.

And she started to really own up to the meaning of her full name. She figured if she was going to make one's life a living hell, then the person must deserve it. So she went to clubs, sold drugs, lured men and rapists to their deaths. Fifty seven of them. Until she got caught, but never got arrested as she got into an accident in the process. She was dead on arrival.

And the rest was history.

So.. she was never bad luck. People are just.. terrible people. James never changed. He never tried. And Carmellia wanted to protect her child in the way that she can. And she felt like she failed to do that.

And in all of that, Mallory never knew.

Mal never knew.

Haha anyways

#mallory #i wanted to write about her past life ok #mallory was actually very likeable #they just racist smh 😔

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overlydramaticinephile · 2 years

Text

matilda.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader? (no physical descriptions)

Summary: Steve Harrington is an 80s male version of matilda.

Word count: 1.9k (just something smol)

Warnings: almost pure angst. super tw to daddy issues and fights/arguments. mostly a steve x father fic with mentions of reader. ALSO idk what season or year this is set in. maybe season 2-3 ish. there's also cursing. OH i also named his dad bc writing mr. harrington all the time gave me anxiety so let's imagine his name is Blake. yes, i got inspiration after Blake Carrington......

English is NOT my first language.

A/N: hello cuties, so just in case we don't get Steve confronting his family in s5...wrote this. and also of course this is based on dawson's creek and harry's song. feeling versatile today. love you all and I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

Steve got home after a double tutoring session for his SAT's. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement, but at least it helped him not to think about Y/N, his girlfriend that actually made it out of Hawkins after high school. Don't get me wrong, he was so proud of her for pursuing her dreams, but that didn't mean he didn't miss her to death and wish she was with him every night.

After entering the kitchen to make himself a sandwich because, of course, there wasn't food already made. It was his everyday routine, but when he turned around, he noticed his dad. Weird. He thought. He's almost never home, and when he is, it's like he avoids being in the same room as Steve. Yet here he was, passed out on the family couch next to a bottle of whisky. I guess it was a long day for him too.

Steve couldn't help but stare at him and feel empty. After a few moments of contemplating his next move, he decided to sit on the couch in front of him. He knew his father wouldn't wake up, yet he still sat down just for the nostalgia and pain of it all.

"So I guess this is as good a time as any to have that father-son talk." Steve looked at him and saw how he had this subtle snore. Great.

Steve made this lower voice impersonating his dad. "So, how are you doing at summer school, Steve?"

"Well, actually, dad, I'm doing all right. You know, I'm really turning things around. It turns out I'm pretty smart. Maybe I'm college-bound after all."

"Good man, Steve, I always knew you'd turn out to be something. How are the ladies treating you?"

"Uh, I met this woman." Steve answered himself and couldn't help but blush just at the thought of her.

"Is she cute?"

"Cute? man, uh, Y/N's beautiful. She's smart, she's funny. I tell you, this girl is really something special. And...whatever the reason, she seems to think I'm pretty special too."

He couldn't stop smiling by now. A warm feeling was taking over his body, one he was familiar with since he started dating Y/N. But that smile, that nice warm feeling, suddenly disappeared, making Steve frown and almost contain his tears. This is not what he was intending to do by having a fake conversation with his father. But he stayed with it.

"So why can't you see that? Hmm? Why can't you see me, man? When did you give up on me? when I was five? Hmm, ten? twelve? I'm eighteen years old, dad.

Steve was sobbing by now. He couldn't breathe properly either. He was embarrased to be perfectly honest but all those emotions he had bottled up for years were coming out. He couldn't help it even if he tried. And he did try.

"And I'm here, and I'm not perfect, but I try so hard for you. I just—it's your job. It's your job to love me. Because you're my father, no matter who I am or what I become. I can't do this by myself."

Steve didn't realize until now how much he actually needed his parents. Yeah, the party was great, as were his best friend and girlfriend, but the validation and support of his parents is something he always hopes he will get one day.

But it didn't seem like that would happen any time soon.

Later that week...

After another natural disaster in Hawkins, Steve wasn't surprised if it ended up being connected to the Upside Down or the lab, for that matter. But of course, his father didn't know that. So, after a long day at the office doing whatever it is that stock marketers do, Mr. Harrington met with Steve.

Steve wasn't really paying attention to what was happening; it wasn't anything new to him. He was consumed by the thought of his girlfriend once again. Fuck, he missed her. He missed her a lot. Sure, they would call each other every day, but it didn't make it any less hard on him. He wonders if Y/N felt the same way about their separation. Or was he too codependent?

Steve's dad shook him out of his thoughts when he started talking again.

"The sheriff was lying to me. He's in it up to his neck and he knows it."

Of course Steve knew Hopper. He's done everything in his power to protect the kids, so this type of incident wasn't him. It couldn't be.

"Come on, you don't even know if this has anything to do with him." Steve was trying to lift the mood and make his father not put the blame on Hopper.

"A random arson incident in the middle of Hawkins? Let's consider the likelihood of that, Steve." Blake scoffed, looking at Steve like he was delusional or just plain stupid.

How wrong he was.

"If God hadn't blessed you with my good looks, I wouldn't know whose son you were. Why don't you drive yourself home before you make another embarrassing comment.”

Steve just stared at the man. Wondering how on earth were they related.

"I think I'll walk."

Blake contained a laugh. Again, making Steve look bad in front of all his coworkers.

"As if I care."

Just as Steve was turning around to leave, he decided to add one more comment.

"You know, we assumed you did, Pop." he said smiling with his sarcastic and mocking voice. It was basically a fuck you, dad.

Blake was surprised at his comeback—was he trying to embarrass him? Nope. He wouldn't tolerate it.

"You'll have to excuse my son, boys. His girlfriend moves away and suddenly it's his time of the month." he said, forcing a laugh to make it seem like it was no big deal.

"Hey, screw you, okay?" Steve was getting annoyed by now. He wouldn't let himself be talked down like that anymore.

Blake tried to put Steve aside to talk to him in a more private environment, in which he most definitely would be scolding Steve for his attitude towards him.

But when he tried to grab his arm,

"Get your hands off me, alright? You don't touch me again, ever!" Steve was now shouting. The mere idea of his father having anything to do with him disgusted him more in that moment than any other day.

Mr. Harrington made that fake laugh again, trying to keep an appeareance in front of everyone else in the scene.

"Finally, my boy gets a pair. All it took was getting his heart broken by some little girl with a few screws loose."

Steve lost it. In his eighteen years, he had never punched his dad, not until today that is. He didn't know anything about you. He didn't know that you are the most amazing person to ever grace his existence.

"Y/N did more for my life in six months than you did in eighteen years, you rotten son of a bitch. So if you want to make fun of me, you want to burst out on me? That's fine. But if you make even the slightest disparaging remark about the woman I love, I swear to God, you'll be calling this town from a hospital bed, you understand?"

Blake was speechless. He didn't even move from the position where Steve had punched him just a minute ago.

With that, Steve was ready to leave. He couldn't look at his dad anymore. But first, now that he seemed to have his full attention after all these years, he had one more thing to say. To him, to everyone for that matter. Screw the reputation.

"And one more thing, even if Hopper was involved in all of this, he's still ten times the father you ever were."

The next day...

Steve was at the park waiting for the kids to call him through the walkie-talkie and ask him to pick them up from their D&D session. Just another regular day for him: picking up the kids, waiting for it to be night, and calling Y/N's dorm. He's sure her roommate is sick of all the calling, but he couldn't care less. He needed to hear her sweet voice. Yeah, he was codependent alright.

And just like yesterday, someone interrupted his thoughts. His dad. Talk about a surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

Mr. Harrington sat next to Steve on the park bench, leaving enough space for another person to fit between the two of them.

"For starters, you punched me."

Of course. Steve thought that's what he'd say.

"If you came looking for an apology, you're barking up the wrong tree."

"No, I don't need one. I deserved it. Good for you for doing it." What had gotten into Blake Harrington?

When Steve didn't respond, he decided to keep making conversation, something he clearly wasn't used to.

"You got another phone call today from Y/N. We talked for a long time. She's uh, kind of chatty, that one."

Steve smiled to himself. "Yeah, she is."

"She sounded sweet as hell, Steve. So, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I really don't know anything about her."

Steve finally got the courage to look him in the eyes. "Apology accepted."

Steve got up from the bench after that. He wanted to see what his father's next step would be. Would he follow him? Or leave now that he has a clean concience?

"I'm not done."

To Steve's surprise, Blake got up as well.

"As little as I know about her, I know even less about you, my own son."

They stay put for a moment, waiting for someone to continue. Mr. Harrington guessed that would be him again.

"I realized that as Y/N was trying to fill me in on what you two had been through, I didn't know about any of that. She said you were her hero. It was nice to hear."

That brought tears to Steve's eyes but he wouldn't let them fall. His lips stayed pressed together hoping the force would also help stop the tears. Boys don't cry, he reasoned, or at least not in front of Blake Harrington.

When Blake still got no verbal response from his son, he thought it was fitting. How many times has he done the same to Steve?

"Anyway, I called the school and I explained things to them. They're going to let you make up the finals next week when you feel up to it."

"Thank you." Steve was finally able to get the words out. You could see the pain in his eyes, yet he refused to be open about it.

"It's the least I could do." Even though Blake's voice didn't seem affected by all of this, you could see pain in his eyes too. From what? We don't exactly know. Yet.

"I'm sorry I haven't been the kind of father that you felt you could share your story with."

Fuck it. Steve started shredding tears; it wasn't a full crying look, but it was in the making. It was bound to happen, that's for sure.

"Uh, there's just one other thing here. Y/N wanted me to give you something."

You could tell Mr. Harrington was nervous—a little uncomfortable even. Meanwhile Steve had this confused expression. That's when his father started getting closer to hug him, patting his back a few times before pulling away. It was a quick hug. An awkward one too.

After that awkward embrace, they looked into each others eyes and saw the hurt they both shared, that's when they went for another hug. A hug that was expected for eighteen years. Steve finally broke down thinking this could possibly still be a dream, either way, he was going to take the deal.

THE END.

feedback and comments are greatly appreciated <3

should I start a steve tag list? i'm conflicted..

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #joe keery imagine

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