#(keeping the fandom and character tags out on purpose)

[itsmiahshemakessense]

Deleted xmas byler fic

Not mine!! but i had it downloaded and wanted to post here in case anyone else wanted to read the fluff masterpiece!

a three-step plan to make will byers fall in love

RomeoWrites

Summary:

It’s Christmas break and Mike Wheeler is having a crisis. Why? Because the Byers are visiting for the first time in almost two years, and sometime since leaving Hawkins, Will has gotten hot. And Mike is dealing with that in a totally platonic way. Or so he insists.  OR The party concocts a three-step plan to get Will Byers to fall in love assuming, of course, that he hasn’t already.

rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom:

Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship:

Will Byers/Mike Wheeler

Characters:

Will Byers

Mike Wheeler

Eleven | Jane Hopper

Lucas Sinclair

Maxine "Max" Mayfield

Dustin Henderson

Additional Tags:

Fluff

Getting Together

Funny

Humor

Fluff and Humor

Sweet

First Kiss

Christmas

Holidays

Christmas Fluff

Language: English Published: 2022-08-09 Words: 13620 Chapters:1/1 Comments: 35 Kudos: 814 Bookmarks: 176 Hits: 5075

Phase Zero: The Pre-Planning

It’s the last day of school before the Christmas break, and Mike Wheeler is distracted. Like, head empty, no neurons firing, kind of distracted. If it wasn’t the last day of term he would definitely be in detention by now, because absolutely no thoughts have passed through his brain in any of his lessons thus far. 

“Dustin,” he whispers halfway into their last math class of the year. “Dustin, I’m in urgent and dire need of assistance.”

“What?” Comes the vaguely annoyed response, and Mike rolls his eyes. It’s the last day of term and Dustin is still insisting on putting up a facade of concentration, despite the fact that literally everyone else in their class is already chattering away, and their teacher does not seem to care one bit.

“Assistance, Dustin. Keep up. I need assistance. Urgently and direly, in fact.”

Dustin fixes him with a look. “You sound like you’ve swallowed a thesaurus.”

“This is not the time to make fun of my extremely well-appointed grasp of the English language,” he hisses. “I’m having a crisis.”

That piques Dustin’s interest. “A crisis? What kind of crisis?”

And truthfully, Mike is not exactly sure, because said crisis only started this morning. At 6:52 am to be exact, when the Byers arrived at his house to spend their Christmas break back in Hawkins, away from California. The party had gathered at the Wheeler’s, where the Byers would be staying, to greet Will and El, who had jumped out of the car and immediately been smothered by a party group hug. Well, a party group hug without Mike who, upon seeing Will emerge from the backseat of Mrs Byers’ car, had promptly melted into a puddle of goo with very limited brain power. He had only just managed to react somewhat normally when Will pulled him into a tight hug, but when Will wryly complimented his Yoda pajamas, he was pretty sure all he managed to get out was ‘guh.’

Because the thing is, Will has been Mike's best friend since they were five. And until one and a half years ago, Mike had seen him everyday. And Will was familiar. His short stature and swoopy brown hair were familiar. His hazel eyes and shy smiles. Will was the type of kid who parents would coo over and teachers loved, because for all intents and purposes, he was cute. Adorable, even. Politely charming with his drawings and ink covered hands. But now? After Mike only had one short visit to California, very early on, and not so much as a photograph of Will before today? Will’s familiar features are gone. And instead Mike came to the abrupt realization this morning, that Will is hot. And that’s not a word that Mike would ever use aloud. But it’s true. Somewhere between before and now, Will has become completely and breathtakingly gorgeous. And Mike is dealing with that fact in a totally normal and platonic way. 

“What kind of crisis?” Dustin asks again. 

Mike shrugs rather helplessly. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Dustin’s eyes gleam with scientific intrigue. “A guessing game, then. Okay, academic?”

Mike shakes his head. 

“Family?”

Still no. 

“Personal?”

Uh - somewhat. 

“…sexual?”

And Mike’s face must look some type of way because Dustin lets out an honest-to-god cackle. “What? You’re having a sexual crisis?”

“No!” Mike quickly amends, trying to do damage control for his facial expressions. “Not sexual. More like, romantic, I guess?”

Dustin levels him with a look. “A romantic crisis, huh? And what, exactly, has brought this about?”

“Uh - well, it’s kind of complicated, really.” It’s not complicated, Mike is just a coward. “It’s just I’ve noticed someone today who I find, uh - who is- well, someone who is rather, um, nice-looking,” he finishes lamely. 

“Nice-looking?”

“Yeah, you know. Handsome.”

“Handsome?”

“Attractive?” Mike tries.

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously this repressed? The word is hot, Michael.”

“Right. Yes. That.” Even hearing it aloud sent a little thrill through his stomach as he remembers how good Will looks with his tousled hair and strong jawline.

“Handsome as in male, handsome?” Dustin asks, a polite sort of curiosity in his tone. 

“That would be accurate.”

“Oh, so this is about Will.”

Mike has to stop himself from shoving his pencil into his eye. “How did you know that? Was I super obvious?”

“Just a little bit,” Dustin admits. “Not to Will, though, I think you’re safe there.”

At least that’s a relief. “So, what should I do? You know, about the crisis?”

“Well, what do you want to do?” And Mike is immediately glad he chose Dustin to confide in, with his level-headedness and logic. He isn’t going to blow this whole thing out of proportion. “Because I think you should just tell him that you think he’s earth-shatteringly and mind-bogglingly hot, and you know, maybe kiss him. I think he’d appreciate that.”

And oh, look at that! Mike now regrets everything. “I am not going to do either of those things, Dustin,” he hisses. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is that ridiculous?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not just going to kiss him out of nowhere, that’s rude. And secondly, we don’t know that he’s going to appreciate it? He could completely freak out.”

“He’s not going to freak out - and everyone appreciates kissing.”

“Okay, that is so not true, and this isn’t about kissing. It’s about…” Mike trails off, looking for words and Dustin snaps his fingers at him. 

“Oh. Oh, ho, ho,” he chortles. 

“Okay, please stop doing that.”

“This isn’t a sexual crisis at all, is it?”

“I already told you that it wasn’t-”

“This is a love crisis.” Dustin strings out the word love like luuurve and that’s the only thing that horrifies Mike out of evaporating on the spot. Because love is a big word. A huge word, in fact. And also the word that most accurately describes his problem. He is having a love crisis. 

Of course, he immediately denies this. “Actually, you know what? Let’s go back to sexual crisis. I think even that is more comfortable than how you just pronounced love.”

“I can’t believe you’re in love. Well, actually, maybe I can.”

“Okay, no one said anything about love.”

“Of course you’re in love. It’s Will.”

And surprisingly, that’s probably the first thing Dustin’s said so far that makes sense in Mike’s brain. He fiddles with his pencil and considers his options. Number one is to deny, deny, deny. But he’s the one who started this whole conversation, so it’s not like Dustin will believe him. Number two: pass it off as just a physical attraction - something that isn’t serious. Will is pretty and Mike wants to kiss him, but it’s not love. Just one guy appreciating the good-looks of another guy. But then phrase sexual crisis rings in his head, and he immediately vetoes that option. Which leaves him with one more. Admit what he has known to be true for approximately six years. That he is definitely in love, and maybe, just maybe, he’s finally emotionally prepared to do something about it.

“Okay, maybe just a little bit,” is what ends up coming out of his mouth, and Dustin sits back on his chair, satisfied.

“Well, good. Acceptance is the first step. Scoring yourself a super hot boyfriend is step number two.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“It’s simple. At lunch hour, we’ll lay this all out for the rest of the party and we’ll put our brilliant minds together and come up with a plan.”

He makes it sound so easy, that Mike feels compelled to just let it happen. 

“Okay.” He steadies himself. “A plan. We can make a plan.” Then: “Do you really think Will is going to want that? Do you think he might like me back?”

Dustin rocks back on his rear chair legs, thoughtfully. “Well, scientifically speaking, you know, considering the evidence, I don’t think it’s the most unlikely thing in the world. I’d put your odds at 70:30.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Great. Numbers. Just what I need to help me through this.”

“Hey, math is a great way to figure things out. And those are good odds.”

Mike stabs his pencil into his worksheet, mutinously. 70% chance of success. He liked the sound of that. But 30% chance of failure? That, he could have lived without. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says at last. “You can tell the party at lunch, and I’ll think about it.”

Dustin gives him a final nod and turns his attention back to their assigned work. And Mike tries to do the same, he really does, but by the time the bell rings for lunch hour, all he’s managed to do is doodle a couple of little hearts on his page and one very clumsy drawing of a boy in a wizards hat. He flushes, and scrunches up the paper, tossing it in the bin on the way out.

And maybe he was being somewhat (utterly and entirely) naive, thinking Dustin that would at least try to be a little bit subtle about this whole thing, because as soon as they arrive at their usual cafeteria table, Dustin slams down his lunch tray and with fervor, declares: “Mike is having a crisis.”

And if that wasn’t already enough to send Mike into a half-panicked state, Dustin then adds with a hushed sort of reverence, as if this was the news of the century: “Of the sexual kind.”

“Dustin!” Mike whisper-shouts, trying to suppress his mortification. “That is not what this is.”

“Oh? Did you or did you not use the words earth-shatteringly and mind-bogglingly hot?”

“I did not-” Mike’s horrified protest is cut off by the audible gasping coming from the rest of their table.

“What? Who does Mike think is hot-”

“You like someone? This is unbelievable-”

Dustin waves away everyone with an airy hand. “The point is this: Mike has declared himself hopelessly and irrevocably in love-” Mike gives up any attempt to interject and just groans, slapping his hand over his face, “-and it is our job, as his most dear and loyal friends-” (“-only friends,” Max interrupts) “-to help him,” Dustin finishes with a flourish.

“Help him?” Lucas asks quizzically. “You really think we can help him? He’s a hopeless case.”

“Hey-”

“It’s true, Mike,” Max says unsympathetically. “You’re probably the least romantic person I know.”

Mike scowls. “I could be romantic.” Then pauses. “Wait, no. I don’t want to be romantic - this is a terrible idea.”

Lucas points at him. “There you have it. He doesn’t want to be romantic.”

“Yeah, thank god,” adds Max. “That would be a trainwreck.”

“Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. And how exactly did Mike end up with such supportive and caring friends? 

Max mimes a ‘you’re welcome’ while Dustin splutters in disagreement. “What? No. You don’t even know who this is about yet. How can you give up so easily?”

And that gets Max and Lucas interested again. 

“Well, tell us then. Who is she?” Lucas asks, and then shoots a glance at Mike. “Uh, he?” 

Max elbows him. “They.”

Dustin looks to Mike as if for approval and Mike just waves his hands vaguely. He supposes it won’t be the worst thing in the world if they find out about Will. Maybe it would make them more sympathetic when every Friday evening he ditches any plans because that’s his and Will’s night to talk as much as they can on the phone until someone kicks them off. 

“Okay. It’s…” Dustin pauses for dramatic effect until Mike kicks him under the table. “Ow! Okay. It’s Will.”

“Knew it.”

“Called it.”

“It’s because of this morning, isn’t it?” Lucas accuses. “You saw him and totally freaked out because he’s all hot now.”

“Yeah, your face was so red, I thought you were going to explode.”

“Okay, can you stop being mean?” Mike directs at Max. “This is a trying time.” Then he looks at Lucas. “And can everyone please stop with the h-word?”

“He has problems with the h-word,” Dustin stage-whispers. 

And great, now they’re all laughing at him, and Mike tries to slowly slip under the table, but Max reaches over and grabs him by the collar. “Relax, Wheeler, we’re only joking. I, for one, am actually glad that you’re finally admitting your feelings, and would be honored to join the noble quest to find you requited love.”

“You’ve come to too many of our DnD campaigns,” is all Mike says to that. 

Max sends him a borderline horrified look. “You know I’m joking when I say shit like that, right? You do know that?”

“Alright, calm down,” Lucas interjects. “It’s not like you’re going to lose any cool credits with us.”

“People!” Dustin claps his hands together. “We are getting off-track. This meeting has been called to help Mike, not to bully him.”

“Meeting?” Mike splutters. “This is lunch.”

Dustin waves him off. “We need a plan.”

“Well, what’s our aim? Our hypothesis?” Lucas asks, and wow. Between the basketball and the general athleticism, Mike had forgotten that Lucas was still, like the rest of them, a huge nerd.

“This is not a science experiment-”

“Experiment!” Max cuts off his protest. “That’s exactly it. We should run trials. Attempts. We should try to set them up.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Mike says loudly.

“That,” Dustin points two, twin finger guns at Max, “is an excellent idea.”

“No, no, no, not excellent-”

“We could each have a go,” Lucas adds, apparently joining Dustin and Max in being deaf to the sound of Mike’s voice. “Make it a competition.”

“A competition?”

“Yeah, like, each of us can try to get them together, and the best man-”

“-or woman-”

“Or woman, will win.”

“Genius,” Dustin whispers. “Pure genius.”

All three of them look around at each other with the sort of reverent air that could only be conjured up by a bunch of far too self-important sixteen-year-olds. 

Mike attempts to say something rational. Reasonable, so as to convince them all that this is a very, very bad idea. What comes out instead is: “Are you all actually insane?”

As one, they turn to look at him, as if only just remembering that he does, in fact, exist. By the looks on their faces, they don’t see anything wrong with their plan. Mike sinks back into his seat with a half-strangled sort of moan. “Oh my god. You are. You all are. My three best-” (“-only-”) “-friends are insane.”

“Oh, certifiably,” Dustin says agreeably. “But does that mean this is a bad idea?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

“Oh, come on, Mike. You’ve been hung up on Will since we were in middle school - and don’t pretend like you weren’t. Is it really the worst thing in the world if you give yourself a chance?”

Mike considers Lucas’ words, and hears the truth in them. Although seeing Will this morning had jolted something to life within himself, he has long been aware of the feelings he harbors, that were subconscious at first, until all of a sudden he turned ten, learnt what romance was, and developed what was probably the strongest childhood crush in the history of childhood crushes. Of course, now it’s a fair bit more than a childhood crush, so really, maybe this is a good idea. He could do with a chance. 

“And if you do end up woefully and pitifully rejected, hey, the Byers live in California now, so it’s not like it’ll be that awkward,” Max supplies helpfully.

He shoots her a glare, any confidence he had, immediately evaporating. “Right. Will is going to reject me and this is a horrible plan.”

“Oh, lighten up, Wheeler,” Dustin says. “Sure, the painful pull of heartbreak may befall you, but is that any worse than the pain of never knowing what could be, if only you would proclaim your frankly sickeningly sweet, but admittedly adorable, love?”

Max punches him in the arm. “Don’t talk like that.”

But Dustin’s speech, however falsely pretentious, does stir something within Mike. He feels himself slowly nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Seriously, man? That’s what convinced you?”

“I’ve told you before, I’m a poet-”

“Oh, shut up, the pair of you.” Max looks at Mike squarely from across the table. “You’ll do it?”

And what the hell? What does he have to lose, really? (His dignity, his pride, his lifelong best friend, his brain supplies helpfully, but he ignores it.) 

“Yeah. I’ll do it. Proclaim my love, or whatever.”

Dustin beams at him. “Great! What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

Lucas covers Max’s mouth before she can answer.

“Yeah,” Mike says, brain spinning with possibilities. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Phase One: Max’s Madness

Immediately after school, the plan commences. Sometime during their shared science lab (while Mike sat, miserable and alone, relegated to a separate bench for secrecy purposes), Dustin, Lucas, and Max had put together three strategies to be executed over the next three days, that will supposedly ‘make Will fall in love, like he never has before’ according to Dustin (‘assuming, of course, that he’s not already in love with you’ adds Lucas). Of course, they don’t tell Mike what any of these strategies are, but he knows that each of them is responsible for one. He dreads Max’s the most. 

They all cycle to the Wheeler’s, and for the first time in his life, Mike wishes the distance between his house and school was longer, because all he wants to do right now is delay, delay, delay. Max catches his eye as he’s mid-deep-breath, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast. 

“Would you calm down?” Max asks. “You’re acting like you’re going to have a heart attack when you see him.

“Maybe a heart attack isn’t the anatomical reaction he’s worried about-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Dustin,” Mike warns, ignoring the amused look between him and Lucas and the face of mock-disgust from Max. “I’m calm. I’m very calm. Never been more calm.”

The group share disbelieving glances. 

“Alright,” says Max. “Just try to take deep breaths so you don’t start stress-sweating. That’s not the impression you want to give off.”

“I’m not trying to give off an impression. Will already knows everything about me, it’s not like I’m suddenly going to show up and he’s going to think I'm an entirely different person.”

“Well, I don't know, man. Your look is kind of edgy now. Maybe Will likes emo boys.”

“I’m not emo,” Mike objects, but secretly feels a little pleased about the assessment of his style. “Besides, he saw me this morning. I don’t look any different.”

“Yeah, well, this morning you were in Star Wars pajamas, so maybe give edgy a chance.”

Mike flushes a little. “I’ll have you know that Will said my pajamas were cool.”

The group shares another disbelieving glance, and man, Mike was getting sick of those. 

“Looks like California has made Will forget about the friends don’t lie rule, huh?” Dustin laughs, and Mike doesn’t feel the least bit guilty about shoving him off his bike. 

They reach the house and Mike feels in a tizzy. He lets Lucas and Max frog-march him to the front door, sure that if he walked by himself, he would never make it. 

“What’s today's strategy, again?” he asks.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dustin answers unhelpfully. 

“Great. Just great,” he mutters to himself as he fumbles for his key and opens the door. 

El greets them as soon as they walk inside. “Finally, you’re home! We’ve been so bored all day, waiting. Will’s still upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute.”

Mike’s stomach does a disconcerting little flip when he realizes that Will is probably up in his bedroom, where he’ll be sleeping for the next two weeks. Mrs Byers and El are in Nancy’s room since she (and Jonathan) are staying at college during the break. Will got stuck with Mike’s floor, since they didn’t have another spare bedroom, and really, Mike is not complaining. Still, he hopes he didn’t leave anything embarrassing around when he left this morning. 

Then he hears Will’s voice as he comes down the stairs and balks. “Okay, abort mission,” he hisses to the group. “Abort. This is a terrible plan.”

El looks at them, confused. “What plan?”

Dustin starts to say something, but cuts himself off when Will appears and looks around at their guilty faces. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Lucas leaps towards him, trying (and failing) to affect an air of nonchalance. “William!” He wraps his arm around Will’s like they’re an old married couple from a Jane Austen novel and guides him down the rest of the stairs. “Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary is going on, don’t you worry about that.”

Will looks bemused. “Why are you talking like that?”

“No reason, no reason.”

“Um, okay?” Will shifts his eyes around the room until they land on Mike, and then his lips tilt up into a smile. “Hey, Mike.”

Mike stares until Max elbows him in the ribs. “Oh, uh - hi.” And that is definitely not the usual octave he speaks in. 

Will gives him a strange look, but presses on. “How was the last day of school?”

“Um, it was…” Mike thinks back to their lunch time conversation. “Productive.”

Will gives him another bemused little smile, before starting up a conversation with Lucas and Max. Mike takes a moment to try and jumpstart his brain, since currently it’s only able to focus on the fact that Will is wearing a tight, long-sleeve, black shirt and Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen him in that color before.

“Why are you acting weird?” El asks him suspiciously, and Mike jumps a little.

“I’m not,” he says defensively, “I’m acting very normal.”

El raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t push any further. He distracts himself by dumping his backpack and shoes in the hall, and shrugging off his coat, until he hears another voice.

“Will, sweetie?” Mrs Byers calls from upstairs. “Will you help me set up this bed for a moment?”

Will rolls his eyes, but starts to climb back up the stairs. “Be back in a minute.”

As soon as he disappears, Max starts whispering to El very rapidly and Mike squints at them. “Woah, woah, woah. You’re not telling her the plan, are you?”

The look on El’s face tells him everything he needs to know. “Oh my god.” He throws a hand over his face in embarrassment. “Just tell the whole world, won’t you? Maybe Will while you're at it? Save us all some time.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” says El. “I don’t think you need a plan, just tell Will how you feel. And be honest.”

Max scoffs. “You want Mike to express his feelings? With words? Be serious, El. You saw him just then, he was a stuttering mess.”

Mike doesn’t even try to argue because it’s an entirely accurate statement. 

El still hesitates. “But, it’s not like a trick?”

“No!” Dustin says. “It’s not a trick at all. We’re just helping them along. Creating romantic scenarios.”

“Romantic scenarios,” El says slowly. “Like from movies.”

“Exactly,” says Lucas. “Like, Max’s plan is today, and mine is tomorrow. And I just know that mine is going to work perfectly.”

“What is it?” Mike tries. He gets no response. 

“And you think these will work?” El asks. 

She received three identical nods in reply. She considers them all for a moment, before finally saying: “Okay. But only because I want to see Will happy.” Then she looks at Mike. “And you too, I suppose.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mike grumbles. “Always good to be a second thought.”

El shoots him a bright grin and loops her arm into Max’s, dragging her down the basement stairs. “So, tell me about your plan…”

With the girls gone, Mike looks around at Lucas and Dustin, feeling more than a little mortified. “Was it really that bad? Am I a stuttering mess like Max said?”

Lucas claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Well, let’s put it this way. Will still seemed plenty happy to see you, so we’ll count it as a win.”

Mike forces himself to take his hundredth deep breath of the day. “Okay, Mike,” he mutters to himself. “You can do this. You can talk like a normal person to Will - in fact, you literally did that last night on the phone. This isn’t any different.” He ignores the way Lucas and Dustin are looking at him like he’s completely lost the plot. “You just need to be calm, and remember that Will likes you. You’re his best friend. He’s happy to see you, and you just need to act normal.”

He exhales one more time and looks up. “Okay, actually that really made me feel better.”

Dustin just looks at him. “Okay, buddy.”

But, truly, Mike has mastered the art of self-pep-talks because when Will reappears, Mike bounds up to him, even managing to sling a casual arm around his shoulder, and steers him into the kitchen. “Go to the basement,” he calls to the others. “We’ll bring snacks.”

As they head into the kitchen, Mike can’t help but feel ridiculously happy. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Will in his house, and familiarity makes his heart swell.

“I like your new haircut,” Will says as he pulls some sodas out of the fridge. “It’s very… you.”

Mike feels absurdly pleased. “Thanks,” he says, turning around to grab a bag of chips so Will doesn’t see him flush. Will just hums in response, and when Mike turns back, Will reaches a hand up and tugs gently on one of his curls, letting it spring back up after. Mike swallows hard.

“It looks really good,” Will murmurs, his hand just barely brushing Mike’s cheek as he brings it back down. Mike accidentally pops the chip bag and both of them jump.

“Sorry!” His voice is an octave higher than usual, so he tries again. “Sorry. Held it a bit too tight.”

He turns around again swiftly and hunts for a bowl, trying to stop his heart from pounding. He pours the chips out, grabs a couple of chocolate bars from the cupboard, and turns around once more. Will is leaning nonchalantly on the counter.

“Ready to go?” Mike says, holding up his haul. Will shoots him a smile and grabs the sodas.

“Onwards, paladin,” he says with a dorky grin. “To the basement.”

Mike huffs out a laugh, feeling the knot of nerves in his chest loosen a little. It’s just Will, he reminds himself. “After you, cleric.”

They head down the stairs and almost make it into the basement, when Mike pauses, hearing a noise from behind the laundry door. “Hear that?” He nudges Will’s leg with his foot, hands holding their snacks.

Will tucks the soda pack under one arm and opens the laundry door. Chaos unfolds before Mike’s eyes. Lucas and Dustin are arguing in a corner, Max is sitting cross-legged on top of the dryer, and El is crouched on the floor next to a huge puddle of soapy water. In the middle of it all lies a bundle of wet, shiny material in distinctive tones of red and navy that Mike recognises.

“Are those our sleeping bags?” Mike is somewhat incredulous at the soapy, sopping mess of fabric that is spread before him. “What the hell happened here?”

El stands back up, holding one of the sleeping bags. “Wet,” she says, helpfully. 

“We can see that, El.” Will’s tone is sort of resignedly amused, like he had expected nothing more from the group of four in front of them. “I think what Mike means is how did this happen?”

El shrugs, clearly the appointed speaker of the group, probably because they know Mike won’t get mad at her. “Washing machine.”

Mike sighs in exasperation and shares a helpless glance with Will. “Any chance these will dry before bedtime?”

“I mean, unless your dryer has super-machine capabilities…”

Even a dumb half-joke like that has Mike laughing, and he sees the look Max gives him like, damn, you’ve got it bad.  

Dustin grins around at them all, like this was exactly what was supposed to happen this evening, and Mike slowly starts to suspect that maybe, it actually is. And then Max confirms that suspicion by saying, “Guess you’ll both just have to sleep in Mike’s bed tonight, huh?” 

“Yeah, since the sleeping bags are unusable, and all,” adds Lucas. 

“Wet,” says El again. 

And Mike is a second away from throttling them all, because maybe before he could have gotten away with letting Will take his bed, and just spent the night on the basement couch, but now that they’ve said it aloud, it would be weird for him to say ‘no, we can’t share a bed, Will, because actually I have extremely un-heterosexual feelings for you and I will probably end up holding your hand or doing something equally stupid.’

Will nudges his side. “Guess we will.”

And between that and the frankly demonic grins the rest of his friends are sporting right now, Mike knows he is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely doomed. Of course, this is Max’s plan. He should have seen that one coming. 

Once Mike’s finished mopping the laundry (because he doesn’t even want to think about his mom’s face if he left it like that), they finally settle in the basement to watch a Christmas film. It passes far too quickly, and Mike feels like he barely has time to appreciate how Will sits next to him, legs tucked under himself, ankles and socked feet draped over Mike’s lap. Before he knows it, his mom is calling them all upstairs for dinner. And in what feels like an instant, the rest of the party has left, El has flounced upstairs to her room, and the parents are sipping mulled wine in the living room and talking about adult things. It’s only 9 o’clock, but he and Will wander up the stairs and set about getting ready for bed. 

Mike dawdles in the bathroom after brushing his teeth, trying to put off the inevitable. He even takes the extra time to floss while giving himself another mental pep-talk, and by the time he’s pushing open his bedroom door, he feels almost confident. 

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound casual. Will is sitting on his desk chair, absent-mindedly flipping through a comic book.

“Hi,” he says back, gesturing to the bed. “Want to go to sleep? I know it’s kind of early, but our flight was at, like, 2am this morning, and I feel like I’m about to collapse from exhaustion.” 

Mike grins at him. “Well, we can’t have that can we?” He switches off his bedroom light and makes his way to his bedside, turning on his lamp. Before he can think too much about it, he slides under the covers, carefully positioning himself so none of his body crosses the halfway mark of the bed. Will doesn’t seem to have any such qualms because when he joins him, he curls up right next to Mike, nudging their ankles together, and turning to face him on the pillow.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he says in a whisper.

“Not since we were maybe ten,” Mike agrees.

“Remember when you used to have a bunk bed? And I always would start in the top bunk, but if I ever left to go to the bathroom or something, I would never be able to climb back up the ladder in the dark, so I would just sleep with you instead.”

Mike laughs at the memory. “Yeah, you were way too short to even be climbing that ladder in the first place. The steps were weirdly far apart.”

Will nods in agreement and then says with a hint of teasing: “Well, I’m not that short now, am I? I’m almost as tall as you.”

“Almost,” Mike whispers back. “But not quite.”

Will hums in response and then yawns. “Okay, I really am tired now.” Then he hesitates. “Um, leave the lamp on?”

Mike nods quickly. “Of course.”

Will sends him a sleepy smile, and tugs the duvet over his shoulders. “Thanks,” he whispers. Mike watches as his eyes slowly flutter shut and his breathing evens out, and wow, Will was not joking when he said he was tired, because it took him all of about thirty seconds to fall asleep. 

Mike does not experience the same luxury. He lies awake for what feels like hours, feeling hyper aware of every place Will is touching him, and really, Will couldn’t possibly have laid down any closer, could he? Mike’s almost falling off the edge of the bed, and he longingly eyes the large, empty space on the other side of Will. Of course, he doesn’t mind being close like this (quite the opposite, in fact), but the point remains; he is about two inches away from crashing painfully to the floor. 

Carefully, he eases his arm free where Will is holding it, and tries to somehow maneuver his body over the top of Will’s and make it to the other side. Of course, his plan fails abysmally when Will rolls over and accidentally dislodges Mike’s arm, sending him toppling down onto him. Will lets out a sound of muffled confusion, and Mike scrambles off as fast as he can.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “It’s just me - I was kind of falling off the edge, so I tried to move.”

Will blinks his eyes open blearily and squints at him. “And you climbed on top of me? Instead of getting out of bed and walking to the other side.”

Right. That would have been the obvious solution. “I didn’t think of that.”

Will lets his eyes fall shut again. “Sorry for squishing you,” he mumbles. “I’ll lie further away.”

“No, it���s fine!” Mike says a little too loudly in his haste to let Will know that he really doesn’t mind. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Let’s just lie a little bit more in the middle of the bed, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Will says, and rolls back over towards Mike again, tucking his head under Mike’s chin. “Goodnight.”

Mike awkwardly wraps an arm around Will’s shoulders and wriggles around until he’s fairly comfortable, with Will’s head resting on his chest and his hair tickling his nose. He feels somewhat surprised that Will is being so affectionate, although they had been fairly tactile with each other before he moved away, so really, why would now be any different? But something about it being in bed makes it feel a million times more intimate and Mike’s stupid heart skips a beat. 

He admits to himself that, annoyingly, Max’s plan seems to have worked incredibly well. He’s definitely not going to tell her that, but still. There’s a vague sense of gratitude floating around his body as he finally drifts off to sleep. Phase one is over, and they have two more to go.

Phase Two: Lucas’ Stratagem

After Max’s plan yesterday went off without a hitch, Lucas apparently decides to let Mike in on his own plan a little bit, and pulls him aside when the party arrives after breakfast.

“Okay, today is phase two,” he whispers. “It’s a two-pronged approach. A stratagem, if you will.”

“A stratagem?” Mike whispers back. “What are we meant to be out-strategizing?”

“Your romantic incompetence,” answers Lucas. And ouch. Mike secretly thinks that Will didn’t seem to mind his romantic incompetence last night, but he says nothing. “All you have to do today,” Lucas continues, “is be your usual hopeless self. It’s the perfect plan because it capitalizes on who you and Will are as people. You’re clumsy at the best of times, and Will is generally coordinated. The two prongs. It’ll be great.”

Mike quite honestly has no idea what Lucas is talking about, but the promise that his clumsiness is going to come in useful isn’t one that he particularly likes. It’s not his fault that his limbs are far too long for his own good.  

He starts to understand when Lucas turns to the party, at large, and announces: “Ice skating.” 

Mike fights back a groan. He sucks at ice skating. “Do we have to? I mean, it’s freezing out.”

“You’re just scared because you have terrible balance,” Max argues.

El jostles his shoulder and says, “Like bambi on ice.”

Will turns to look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Come on, Mike. It’ll be fun. El and I skate all the time back in California, and the lake is so pretty this time of year.”

And when Will is looking at him like that, how could Mike possibly say anything but yes? “Fine. But if I fall on my ass, I’m holding all of you responsible.” He points a threatening finger around the room as Max rolls her eyes. 

Will beams at him, and then ducks a little closer. “Don’t worry,” he says in an undertone as the party starts pulling on coats and hats. “If you’re really that bad, I’ll hold your hand.”

Okay, so maybe ice skating is, in fact, a terrific idea. He hates and loves the fact that Lucas most definitely saw this coming. He convinces his mom and Mrs Byers, who are drinking wine in the kitchen, to let them borrow a car, and after a warning to drive carefully, the party is off. 

Lover’s Lake (and no, the irony of the name does not escape Mike’s notice), is always frozen over at this time of year, and it’s a long-held Hawkins tradition for it to be set up as an ice rink. Fairy lights have been strung over tree branches at the shore, and a stall is set up renting ice skates for a few dollars an hour. He pushes Will’s hand aside when he tries to pay, figuring that he should at least try to put a bit of effort into making this date-like. It’s definitely worth it when Will leans close to his ear to whisper a thank you that makes his neck tingle. 

The party kick off their shoes and pull on their skates, and make their way (some with more difficulty than others) onto the ice. Will immediately speeds off, hand in hand with El and the two start a lap around the outskirt of the fenced-off portion of the lake that forms the rink. All bundled up in their winter coats and hats, they look closer to twins than siblings, and the sight makes Mike feel warm.

“So much for holding your hand, huh?” Lucas’ voice sounds in his ear.

Mike whirls around unsteadily on his skates. “You heard that?”

Lucas gives him a knowing smirk. “This is my plan, Wheeler. It’s my job to hear things.”

“Okay, calm down, you’re not a superspy.”

And then Lucas actually winks. “Maybe I am.”

Mike narrows his eyes, suspicious. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

Lucas just shrugs, and starts skating away towards Max.

“Lucas!” Mike shouts after him. “If you’re not going to tell me, at least help me skate!”

Dustin sidles up to him after Mike’s spent a few seconds hopelessly spinning on the spot. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, huh?”

Mike can’t help the longing glance he throws in Will’s direction. “Right. You and me.”

Unhelpfully, Dustin is almost as bad at skating as he is, and together they attempt to unsuccessfully propel themselves towards the center of the lake. (“You’re terrible at this-” “Oh, like you’re any better-” “Stop leaning on me!” “I have to lean on you, you’re shorter than me-”)

Eventually the Wonder Twins make their way towards them, probably out of pity. They stop right in front of Dustin and Mike, and Will looks frustratingly elegant on his skates. 

Mike glares at him. “How the hell are you so good at this?”

Will simply grins, and reaches forward to take Mike’s hand, and Mike’s annoyance immediately evaporates. “Come on, I’ll teach you.”

El and Dustin seem to get the hint, and they start to skate away together, leaving Will and Mike standing on their own, right in the middle of the rink. In Mike’s mind he can picture that if they were looking at the lake from above, he and Will would be standing somewhere in the top-right-hand-corner of the heart that it’s shaped into. 

“Your hands are freezing,” Will remarks, starting to tug Mike along. “Come on, move your feet a little. No - don’t lift them up! Just glide.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mike mutters, although he’s no longer irritated. “Tell me again how long it takes to learn this?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. El and I go skating pretty much every weekend. There’s not much else to do in Lenora Hills.”

He says Lenora Hills with a little eye roll that makes Mike pause. “I thought you were enjoying California?”

Will makes a face. “Well, yeah, I mean school is good - less bullies and all, and definitely less creepy supernatural stuff, but still.” He squeezes Mike’s hand. “It doesn’t have you.”

And that feels like an opening, if there ever was one. Mike squeezes his hand back. “I’ve really missed you. I know I say it on our calls all the time, but it’s true. Hawkins isn’t the same without you.”

Will’s face is flushed, and Mike hopes that it's from his words and not just from the cold. As they slowly shuffle along Mike has to fight the urge to do something ridiculous, like kiss Will. He settles for snatching the red beanie off Will’s head with his spare hand instead, and jams it on his own head.

“Hey,” Will protests. “Get your own hat.”

“This is my hat,” Mike informs him dryly. “You stole it from my wardrobe this morning.”

He expects Will to shoot another remark back at him, but instead he brings them to a stop, and slowly fixes how the hat is sitting on Mike’s head, tugging out a few pieces of hair that were caught. “Well, if you’re going to steal it back, at least wear it properly,” he says quietly. 

Mike’s face feels much warmer than the hat could ever make him, and Will can definitely tell because he starts grinning. “Feeling warm?” he asks innocently.

Mike just punches his arm before grabbing his hand again. “Come on, let’s skate. I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

He was not, in fact, getting the hang of it. But after a while (and more than a few stumbles that had Will catching him before he could topple onto the ice), he’s finally able to glide forward with some semblance of coordination. Both he and Will conveniently ignore the fact that they probably don’t need to hold hands anymore, and start making their way over to where the others have gathered near the shore.

“Well, don’t you two look adorable,” Lucas teases. Mike grabs a handful of snow from the bank and shoves it in Lucas’ face. The movement makes him tilt forward a little, and Will grabs him around the waist to steady him.

Lucas now looks positively gleeful. “Shut up,” Mike mutters. Then, because he wants a distraction: “There’s hot chocolate being sold on the other bank. Shall we?”

El quickly agrees, clapping her mittened hands together, and as one, they all set off. Mike may or may not purposefully stumble at the start so that Will holds his hand again. Max shoots him a look, but hey, it works, so Mike is not complaining. The others start up a light conversation that Mike lets fade into the background as he sneaks glances at Will out of the corner of his eye. Halfway across the lake, it starts snowing, and little snowflakes hang off Will’s eyelashes and hair. Against the wintery white background and the distant fairlights that glow in the trees, he looks ethereal. Of course, then he shoots an evil grin at Mike and shouts: “Race you!”, and Mike’s moment of inner awe is promptly ruined.

Groaning to himself, he attempts to follow the rest of the party as they speed across the lake, whooping and shouting. He’s vaguely impressed with himself when he makes it to the other shore in one piece, only a minute behind the others, and also ahead of Dustin. Will grins at him and presses a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate into his hands.

“Good job,” he says, steam from his own cup floating in front of his face. “You didn’t fall over.”

Mike takes a sip of chocolate and immediately regrets it as he burns his tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re a good teacher.” He sticks his tongue out and attempts to catch snowflakes to soothe the burn, and Will laughs at him. They make their way over to a quiet spot on the shore, a little ways away from the hot chocolate stand, and sit down on a tree root. Mike watches his friends as El attempts to teach them all to skate backwards.

Will presses his leg against Mike’s and asks: “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” he replies, honestly. “Yeah, I really am.”

The smile that Will gives him is brilliant. “I’m glad.”

“I have a good time whenever I’m with you,” Mike blurts out, unable to stop himself. He promptly buries his head in his hot chocolate cup and blows so the steam rises, hiding his face from view.

Will is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “That’s how I feel about you, too,” he says, voice soft. “You always make everything better.”

Mike feels as if someone has dumped his hot chocolate on his head, with the way his whole body is suddenly warm. Feeling daring, he wraps his arm around Will, and Will responds by tucking his head onto Mike’s shoulder. And for a moment, it feels like the whole world grinds to a stop. Mike can no longer hear the laughter of his friends, all he can feel is the gentle tickle of Will’s hair against his neck, and the sweet taste of chocolate in his mouth. He wonders if Will also tastes of chocolate. 

Gently, he squeezes Will’s shoulder and says, “I wish you were here all the time. I know California’s been good for you and El, but still. I just wish you could stay for a little bit longer.”

Will rests his hand on Mike’s leg and exhales slowly. “I wish I could stay, too.”

There’s something in his tone that Mike doesn’t quite know how to place. Almost like he’s hiding something. But the moment is a little too perfect for him to press further, so he just accepts Will’s words with a smile that’s a little bit sad. At least, when they’re back in separate states, he can rest easy in the knowledge that Will misses him too.

Phase Three: The Dustin Conspiracy

The next morning commences day three: phase three. Mike has to admit that everything has gone surprisingly well so far, and when Dustin announces that it’s time for: “Christmas baking,” Mike is expecting today to go great. They stick on some Christmas music, pull a gingerbread recipe from a magazine, and get to work.

Of course, between the six of them, things rapidly devolve into chaos, as Lucas attempts to crack eggs, El tries to whip butter, and Dustin sits on the counter and calls instructions (“No, Lucas, don’t put the shell in-” “I’m not trying to put the shell in-” “Max that’s flour not sugar!” “And who died and made you head chef, Dustin?”).

Mike shoots Will a smile as they hunt around for the cookie cutters. “Our friends are so peaceful, aren’t they?”

“Oh, of course,” Will replies with a smirk. “So sweet and quiet.”

“Tender and mild,” Mike remarks as Silent Night plays over the speakers. They look at each other once more before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Oh! Here.” Will pulls out a metal tin while Mike wipes tears from his eyes. “We haven’t used these since we were about six-years-old.”

“I remember that,” Mike says fondly. “We totally almost burnt down the kitchen.”

Will opens the tin and pulls out a reindeer cutter. “Yeah, we left them in the oven for too long and you cried like a baby.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Okay, did you miss the part where we were six-years-old?”

Will grins at him. “But you were so sweet though. You forced yourself to eat a whole cookie because you were so worried that I would be upset if you didn’t like them.”

Mike busies himself with unpacking the tin, feeling a little embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly nice of you, Mike,” Max says jokingly. “Where was that attitude when I came along?”

Mike flushes at her words, not realizing the rest of the room was listening in. It’s not often that he or Will share stories from before the party, when it was just the two of them, but he knows that Dustin and Lucas are always keenly interested. Sure enough, Lucas chimes in,

“Tell us more stories, Will.”

“Yeah, tell us baby Mike stories!” El’s face is bright with intrigue. “I want to hear.”

“Oh, sure,” Mike grumbles. “What, is it Embarrass Mike Day today?”

“Oh, come on,” Will pouts, and for a moment Mike does feel like a child again, as if he’s got six-year-old Will staring back at him. “Just one?”

Mike rolls his eyes and relents with a waved hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He sets about stirring the ingredients together, because someone has to (what even is nutmeg?), while Will starts telling a story. Thankfully, it’s only about the one time that Will accompanied the Wheeler’s on vacation, and nothing too embarrassing.

As he fumbles his way through the recipe, he relaxes a little. He’s missed Will’s storytelling voice - it reminds him of the rare occasions when he would agree to be Dungeon Master. He can tell by the reactions of his friends, that they too are a little entranced. It’s not often that Will lets himself go like this, and really gets into something, but it certainly is a sight to behold. With the gingerbread dough done, Mike leans an elbow on the counter and rests his gaze back on Will. They lock eyes for a moment, and Will gives him a brilliant smile that makes his stomach flip. By the time the story ends, Mike has rolled out the dough and used the cookie cutters to make (slightly messy) reindeers and gingerbread men. 

“So, I guess you’ve always been this stupidly earnest,” says Max. Mike considers the assessment. It’s something that Will has actually said to him before, albeit in a much nicer way. That one of his favorite things about Mike is how he acts with so much sincerity and conviction no matter the situation. 

“Guess so,” he replies, shooting a sideways glance at Will, who is still smiling at him. “Let’s get these in the oven.” He gestures to the tray. “And, let’s not forget to take them out, this time.”

Will laughs and grabs the tray off the bench. “We can’t have you crying again, can we?”

They smile at each other for a second, reminiscing. 

Of course, the moment is ruined when Dustin opens up the tin of cinnamon and tips it onto Will’s head.

“Dustin!” Will splutters, as powder rains down all over his hair and his sweater. “What was that for?”

“Oops,” Dustin says innocently. “Slipped.”

Mike waves his hand in front of his face and coughs slightly as cinnamon powder works its way into his lungs. He shoots a glare at Dustin, taking Will’s arm and walking him to the sink.

“Don’t open your eyes,” he warns. “It’s like, all over your face.”

He wets a paper towel and goes to hand it to Will, but he catches Dustin miming something out of the corner of his eye. A very over the top charade of him pretending to wipe something of El’s face, who is giggling in the corner. Mike rolls his eyes but gets the picture.

“Okay, hold still,” he says to Will, before gently wiping the towel over his eyelids. Feeling a little self-conscious under four sets of eyes he sends them all a glare over his shoulder.

“Would you lot do something useful? Like wipe up the mess? Or put the biscuits in the oven?”

They spring into action with sheepish grins, grabbing more paper towels to wipe cinnamon off the floor and benches, and Lucas shoves the baking tray into the oven.

“Am I good yet?” Will asks him. Mike wipes his face a few more times.

“Think so.” Will’s hazel eyes blink open and he sends Mike a grateful smile, before shaking his hair out like a dog. Mike laughs and grabs him by the arm to steady him when he gets a little dizzy.

Will blows his fringe out of his face and holds his arms out as if presenting himself for inspection. “Better?”

Mike looks at him consideringly. “I think you need a new jumper.”

Will makes a face and goes to pull his ruined jumper off.

“Just chuck it in the laundry,” Mike says. “I’ll grab you a new one.”

He runs up the stairs and into his room, spotting Will’s suitcase on the floor next to the bed. He pauses for a moment, considering, before turning to his own wardrobe and pulling out a forest green sweater that Nancy got him last Christmas, that has on it a little dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. He grins to himself. Perfect.

When he comes back downstairs, Will is apparently in the bathroom. Mike rounds on Dustin immediately. “What was up with that?”

Dustin gives him a knowing look. “It was the perfect plan, that’s what’s up. Close physical contact plus helping someone in a time of need? That’s a recipe for love if I’ve ever heard it.” Then, he points down at the sweater in Mike’s hands. “And that is definitely your jumper, you wore it last Christmas. Sharing clothes is romantic trope number one.”

Mike squints at him. “You sound like a conspiracy theorist. Or like you’ve read too many romance novels.”

Dustin just shrugs benignly and Will re-enters the kitchen, hair dripping.

“Dude, what did you do?” Lucas asks.

Will grimaced. “Stuck my head under the tap. I thought it would be a good way to get rid of the cinnamon.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” says Dustin. 

Will sends him a look. “Sure you are.”

Mike hands him the jumper, and Will doesn’t say anything about the fact that it’s not his. 

“Well.” Dustin claps his hands, looking pleased. “Let’s check on those cookies, shall we?”

Later on, when the party has left and Mike and Will are curled up in bed (yes, Mike didn’t feel the need to remind Will that the sleeping bags were now dry, and no, Will didn’t feel the need to ask), Will brings up the jumper thing. He’s still got it on, as the weather is just cold enough to wear sweaters to bed. 

“So, this isn’t mine,” he says, tweaking the neckline. 

Mike scrambles for an excuse. “Uh, I couldn’t find your suitcase?”

Will looks at him disbelievingly.  

“I mean, I couldn’t find a jumper inside your suitcase?”

Will smiles. “It’s okay, Mike. I like this jumper.”

“Oh. Right.” Mike can’t stop himself from adding: “It looks good on you.”

Will says nothing, just ducks his head a little so it sits below Mike’s face. Mike suspects that he’s hiding a blush, which makes him ridiculously happy. And yep, sure enough, when Will pulls back his cheeks are slightly flushed. 

“Your hair still smells like cinnamon,” Mike whispers.

Will grins and promptly shoves his head under Mike’s nose again. Mike pushes him gently away and sneezes. “God,” he says, eyes watering. “Dustin really did a number on you.”

Will shrugs, running his hand through his hair so it sits back off his forehead. “I like cinnamon.”

“You’re going to make my sheets smell,” Mike complains, although he really doesn’t mind.

“Yeah, and everytime you go to sleep, you’ll have good memories. That’s how olfaction works, right? You’ll smell a good smell and have nice dreams.”

Mike laughs. “Okay, nerd. When did you swallow a biology textbook? I’ll be sure to sniff my pillows real hard after you’re gone so I dream of you.”

Will smiles back, and Mike’s only half-joking, because the scent lingers in his nose and he’s sure that from now on cinnamon is only ever going to remind him of Will. 

They settle down into the bed, and even after just two nights, Mike doesn’t hesitate to draw Will closer when he curls his body around Mike’s. 

“Christmas Eve tomorrow,” he whispers. “You excited?"

He feels Will nod against his chest. “Yeah. I kind of like Christmas Eve better than Christmas Day. Just the anticipation of it all.” His words are blurry with sleep, so Mike just hums in response. 

Will whispers a goodnight, and Mike just about whispers one back before he too drifts off, the scent of cinnamon in his nose. And you know what? That night he does have good dreams. 

Phase Four (Suprise Edition): El’s Wisdom Saves The Day

Mike, Will, and El spend Christmas Eve morning babysitting Holly, and really, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more adorable sight than Will teaching his little sister how to draw. They lounge about the living room floor, eating candy canes with the radio on, and Mike spends most of the morning with a dopey smile on his face, which El definitely teased him about, but he’s far too gone on the whole situation to really care. Of course, when she drags him into the kitchen under the pretense of getting snacks, he starts to care a little more.

“What are you doing?” Blunt and straight to the point, as she always is.

“What do you mean?” Mike tries to dodge the question. “We’re babysitting Holly.”

El sends him a pointed look that Mike just knows she’s picked up from Max. “I mean, what are you doing with Will?”

“Oh, that.” Mike struggles for an answer. “I don’t really know.” Truthfully, there have been half a dozen times over the past few days where Mike thought that Will was going to say something to him. He had been hoping that something would be Will confessing his feelings because after all, Will had always been the brave one.

“The plans,” El prompts. “Have they been working?”

Mike fills up a glass with juice for her, and then for himself, just to give his hands something to do. “I think so,” he says slowly. “I mean we keep having all these moments.”

“Moments?”

“Yeah, like, when we were ice skating, or even last night when we watched that movie, he put his head on my shoulder.”

El sips her juice. “You want to know what I think?”

“Always.”

“I think plans are stupid. And we’re not stupid.”

“Well,” Mike says, thinking of the party. “We’re probably a little stupid.”

El giggles. “No, I mean that you don’t need a plan. Will’s my brother, and I know he is brave, but he will never tell you how he feels without you bringing it up first.”

“Well, maybe if I drop enough hints-”

“Hints?” El makes a face of disgust. “No hints. I hate hints. I wish people would just say how they feel, all the time. It would make everything so much easier.”

And Mike has to agree. “So, you think I should just confess? Just say it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay, but what if he doesn’t like me back?” Although a lot of his doubt had been washed away this week, Mike can’t help the little bit that remains.

El’s tone is gentle when she speaks. “Mike, none of that matters. Will loves you and he is always going to be your best friend. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he won’t be angry. He would never be angry with you. You should just tell him.”

And that’s probably the most reassuring thing Mike has ever heard in his life.

“God, when did you get so wise?” He nudges El with his elbow.

El grins. “I’ve always been wise.” And for a moment, she seems so different to that little girl Mike had once hid in his basement.

“California’s been really good for you, huh?”

El nods. “Yes, it really has.” Then she pauses. “But I would still come back to Hawkins, if I could.”

“Really? Even after everything bad that’s happened here?”

“Hawkins is my home,” she says simply. “The first place I ever had a family. You, Max, Lucas, Dustin.” She floats her juice out of her glass and sends the bubble of liquid floating up towards the ceiling. “And now Will is my family, too. And I had brothers and sisters before, but they weren’t the same. Will and Jonathan and Joyce. They’re my family.” The juice falls back into the glass with a splash. “Me and Will have talked a lot. Helped each other. We understand each other. And I think we could do it - move back here.”

“Yeah?” Mike feels a little emotional. Not just about El and how free she’s become, but about the possibility that the Byers could once again call Hawkins their home.

“Yes. We’ve come a long way, Mike.”

He nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

They share a smile, and despite all their teasing and their hijinks, Mike feels truly grateful to have such great friends.

Then the doorbell rings and he hears Max shout, “Wheeler, open up. We’re freezing out here,” and the moment is effectively ruined. 

He sends an exasperated glance at El. “Can’t get one moment of peace around here.” 

The doorbell rings again, and El grins and runs into the hallway. “Who needs peace when you have friends?” she calls over her shoulder.

Mike supposes that’s true. The parents arrive back home a few minutes after the party, so he’s able to give Holly back to them, and join the others in the basement. Mrs Byers pokes her head in after a few moments and pulls El and Will away for ‘family stuff’, whatever that means. And with Will gone, so is Mike’s safety shield and the interrogation starts immediately.

“So, what’s been happening-”

“The ice skating was totally romantic. You guys looked like you were on an actual date-”

“I know that the sleeping bags are still in the laundry, Wheeler, so don’t even deny that my plan worked-”

“Okay, everyone shut up,” he says loudly. He tries to summarize. “Nothing has happened, ice skating was fun, don’t even talk to me about sleeping bags, and no, Dustin, cinnamon in the face is absolutely not romantic.”

“Hey, let’s not forget that there wouldn’t even be a plan, if not for me. Cinnamon or no cinnamon, I deserve credit.”

Mike makes a face. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Nothing’s even happened yet.”

“But you’ve shared a bed, right?” Max asks, leaning forward. “And Will is definitely not wearing his own jumper.”

“You held hands, basically all day at the ice skating rink. That has to mean something-”

“Okay, okay,” Mike holds his hands up, somewhat regretting even getting himself into this situation. “If something does happen - and that’s an if, I’ll let you know. Now, can we lay off the questioning? I feel like I’m in one of my mom’s rom-coms.”

“The fact that you even know what a rom-com is tells me everything I need to know,” says Max.

Mike flips her off.

“Mike!” Will’s voice travels down to the basement. “Come up here for a second?”

Lucas grins. “Better go see what he wants, huh?”

“Yeah, have fun up there, loverboy-”

“No, Dustin, absolutely not.”

Mike scurries up the stairs, feeling a little relieved to escape the questioning (and Dustin’s horrifying nicknames). He passes El on the way up. “Any idea what’s up?”

Her eyes gleam. “Good news, I think.”

That bodes surprisingly well, so Mike runs up the rest of the stairs, taking them too at a time. In the front hallway, Will is waiting for him.

“What’s up?”

Will doesn’t say anything, just grabs Mike’s arm and pulls him outside onto the back porch. 

“Okay,” Mike laughs, as he follows. “What’s going on?”

Will pulls the back door shut, and turns to Mike. He’s beaming, eyes alight, and Mike suddenly thinks that this is it. His efforts over the past few days haven’t gone unnoticed. And Will’s about to tell him that he feels the same. That he likes him. Will opens his mouth to speak, and Mike’s heart just about jumps out of his chest.

“We’re moving back to Hawkins!” Will bursts out, looking giddy with happiness.

And…that’s not what Mike expected. His heart dampens a bit in disappointment, before he actually processes the words that Will said, and it speeds right back up again. “What?”

“Yeah! We decided just then. Well, officially decided - we’ve been talking about it for months and I wanted to tell you so bad, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up just in case - but we’re doing it. We’re moving back.” 

The excitement in Will’s voice is palpable and Mike can’t help the reflexive smile that slides onto his face.

“This holiday, it was sort of like a trial run,” Will continues, a little less breathless than before. “To see if we could do it - you know, to see if me and El were okay. Make sure we don't feel anything, anymore.”

Mike nodded slowly, still feeling a little speechless.

“And we didn’t. So, we’re doing it. Just in time for senior year, too.”

And suddenly, Mike feels as if all his worries have evaporated. It was a quiet whisper of fear that he hadn’t expressed to any of his friends, when they first came up with the plan. That maybe, just maybe, if all of this worked, and Will did love him back, he would only end up going back to California and they wouldn’t even get to be together. Not properly. But now? The very thing he had wished for, ever since the Byers’ first moved away, was coming true. 

Will’s still looking at him, eyes bright and hopeful, face plastered with a smile that makes Mike’s heart jolt. Distantly, he hears his friends' voices in his head. Dustin’s bold, ‘what’s the worst that could possibly happen?’ Lucas’ dry, ‘assuming, of course, that he’s not already in love with you.’ Max’s - well, Max’s voice is less of a voice and more of a very pointed look. And lastly, El’s gentle and understanding, ‘you should just tell him.’

“Mike.” Will’s voice is a little hesitant. “Everything okay?”

And Mike means to say something reassuring and celebratory, he really does. He means to tell Will how excited he is that he’ll finally be coming home. Instead, his mouth moves without any input from his brain.

“I love you,” he blurts. No bells and whistles, no ribbons or wrapping. Just that, plain and simple. I love you. 

He looks up at Will, trying to gauge his reaction. Good or bad, he just needs to know what he thinks. Will’s face however, is schooled into a polite sort of confusion.

“Uh, I love you, too?” 

And it hits Mike, that Will, in all his unwillingness to make any assumptions, doesn’t quite grasp his meaning.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Mike manages, heart pounding. “I mean - of course, I love you, but I really mean that I love love you. Like I’m in love with you.”

And now Will’s face shows his feelings, eyebrows raised slightly in shock, mouth parted, eyes wide in a mix of confusion that moves to understanding that moves to something akin to affection.

“Romantically.” Mike feels the need to clarify. “I mean in a romantic sense.”

“Oh,” Will says softly. And then they both just stare at each other for a moment, and Mike feels like if Will doesn’t say something right now then he will actually explode.

Will takes a little step closer, and Mike hones in on his mouth, telling himself it’s only because if Will speaks, his non-existent powers of lipreading will allow him to understand quicker, just what he is saying. But Will’s mouth doesn’t start forming a sentence. Instead, it just moves closer, and closer, and closer, until he’s hovering just an inch away from Mike’s lips. Suddenly, Mike tears his eyes away from Will’s mouth (which looks soft and pink and oh, so kissable) and up to meet his gaze. 

“Hi,” he whispers, and Will’s eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Hey.” Will shifts closer still, bracketing Mike against the porch railing with his arms.

“This is…cozy.” Mike mentally slaps himself for the awkwardness of that comment, but Will is huffing out a laugh that he can feel brush against his lips, and all rational thoughts disappear from his brain.

“Mike?” Will breathes, voice barely more than a whisper. Mike doesn’t think he’s managed a reply, but Will continues on anyway. “I love you, too.”

Then Will tilts his head forward, just a little bit more, and kisses him. And any semblance of sanity that Mike has left in his brain immediately melts into a puddle and seeps out of his body and between the porch floorboards. Will’s kiss is somehow exactly what Mike expected. It’s just Will. Soft and sweet, but also sure of itself, with a hand reaching up to gently hold Mike’s jaw. He tastes of peppermint, like the candy canes they were just eating, and his lips are warm. He eases Mike back against the railing, and Mike lets him, sure that if Will’s other hand wasn’t holding his waist, he would currently be collapsed on the floor. 

When Will pulls back, Mike feels in a daze. He vaguely registers that Will is saying something to him, and pulls enough power back into his brain to ask: “What? Sorry, what did you say?”

Will gives him a knowing little grin, like he is well-aware of the effect he is having. “I asked if this is why you’ve been acting so weird? Not just you, but everyone.”

“Oh,” Mike says, cheeks flushing. “Maybe a little bit. We were kind of trying to make you fall in love with me - we had a whole plan and everything. Three steps.”

“Three whole steps?” Will teases. “Well, too bad the whole thing was unnecessary, because I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Mike pretends that he doesn’t hear the amazed little giggle that exits his own voice box. “Lucas said something like that. That the plan assumed that you weren’t already in love with me.”

“Ah, yeah, he kind of already knew,” Will admits sheepishly.

“What ? He knew?”

“Well, falling in love at eleven-years-old is a big deal! I had to tell someone, and it’s not like I could talk to you, so Lucas seemed like a good option.”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he knew this whole time.”

“Yeah, we’ve had a lot of phone calls about it,” Will says. And then Mike pauses, as he realizes something.

“Eleven-years-old? You fell in love with me when you were eleven-years-old?”

Will flushes. “Um, yeah. It’s been a long time, I know, but-”

“I was ten,” Mike cuts him off, and Will blinks up at him. “I was ten when I fell in love with you.”

“Oh,” Will breathes. Then his face breaks out into a grin and he pokes Mike in the ribs. “So, you totally fell first. I am never going to let you live that down.”

And then he darts forward once more to place a quick kiss on Mike’s lips. When he goes to pull back, Mike grabs onto the front of his sweater - no, Mike’s sweater, that Will is still wearing - and holds him in place. He feels Will smile against his lips for a moment, before he obliges and kisses Mike again. 

Mike lets his brain go fuzzy and focuses on the smooth, warm movements of Will’s mouth. He lets himself get swept away on the wave that’s crashing through his body, making his stomach feel pleasantly warm, and his skin tingle. Where Will learnt to kiss like this, Mike has no idea, but he isn’t complaining. When Will pulls back, Mike has to physically stop himself from chasing his lips again, and Will huffs out a little laugh.

He feels as if a million thoughts should be racing through his brain right now - he should be trying to process the wave of happy emotion he is currently feeling, but instead when he opens his mouth, all he manages to say is: “Kiss me again?”

And yep, he supposes that just about sums up the only coherent thing in his head right now. Luckily, Will obliges, and tilts his chin up to capture Mike’s lips in another kiss. And wow, it’s just as head-swimmingly good as the last two, and Mike knows he is never going to get sick of this feeling. Will retreats though, after only a brief moment and bumps his forehead gently against Mike’s.

“We should probably head back inside. The others will be wondering where we are.”

Mike’s about to protest, but then he thinks about everyone coming looking and finding them kissing on the porch, and makes a face. He doesn’t think he could stand the smug looks.

“Yeah,” he agrees, tangling Will’s hand in his own. “Let’s head back inside.”

He lets Will pull him towards the basement, and they pause on the stairs. Will holds up their joined hands. “Should we just tell them now? Get it over with?”

Mike’s about to agree, when another thought occurs to him. He looks at Will with a conspiring grin. “Or, we could make our own plan.”

Understanding blooms on Will’s face and he grins wickedly (and damn, if mischievous is not a good look on him). After a few minutes of planning, they push open the basement door, hands still joined. The chattering of their friends grinds to a halt, and Mike can see four sets of eyes look at his and Will’s hands, and then look frantically at each other.

“We have news,” Will says brightly, pulling Mike down onto the couch, so close he’s almost sitting in his lap. The others glance at each other once more, before jumping into a flurry of motion. Dustin drops the VHS tapes he was holding, Lucas and Max hurry over from where they were chatting by the window, and El releases her hold on the Millenium Falcon toy she was hovering, letting it drop to the ground with a crash. All four scramble over furniture items to come sit, stand, and kneel in front of the couch, and Mike feels vaguely like he’s a kindergarten teacher about to read a storybook. He nudges Will’s arm and asks: “Ready?”

Will nods and looks across at them all, pausing for a long moment to let the tension build. “Okay. Our news is…”

He stalls for an unbearably long time, so Mike pinches his side, wanting him to just spit it out so they can get their friends' reactions.

“Okay, okay. We’re moving back to Hawkins!”

“What?”

“That’s your news?”

“But what about-” El catches on quickly, and shuts Dustin up with an elbow to the side.

“Yes! That’s the big news,” she says, standing up and shoving herself onto the armrest of the couch next to Will. She slings her arm around his shoulder. “We’re moving back! For senior year.” She glances down at everyone’s shocked faces. “Well, aren’t you all pleased?”

Immediately, the rest of the party scramble out their happy responses. Max jumps up and squeals, wrapping El into a hug as Lucas and Dustin do the same to Will. Due to their proximity, Mike gets an elbow or two in the ribs and he shoves both of them off. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. He slides his hand onto Will’s leg and grins internally at the way Dustin’s eyes boggle. “Glad you’re all so pleased.”

Will leans forward and rests his chin on a hand, face breaking into a cheeky smile. “You all seemed so shocked. I mean, what other news were you possibly expecting?” Then he slides his hand into Mike’s where it’s resting in his lap, with a big exaggerated movement that draws everyone’s attention.

Lucas stares at Will, as if attempting to telepathically communicate. Will just stares at Mike who, in turn, stares at Dustin, who stares at El, who stares (and probably succeeds in telepathically communicating) at Max, who stares back at Lucas. 

Max is the first one to break the silence. “You’re fucking with us, aren’t you?”

And that’s enough to send Mike into a fit of laughter.

At once, four voices break into excited chatter. 

“I told you, Mike. Didn’t I say that this was a good idea-” 

“I know that my plan worked best. Ice skating is the perfect date-”

“Oh, come on, Lucas, you seriously think yours was the best? The sleeping bags are literally still in the laundry-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Will laughs. “Everyone calm down.”

“So,” says El. “Are you dating now?”

Mike glances sideways at Will, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. And by the fact that they hadn’t actually taken the time to decide on that answer. But Will smoothes away his worries with a quick nod of his head.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

“Are you kidding? This is a huge deal-”

“You so owe us, Mike. This whole plan was a huge success-”

Mike sees Will’s confusion and leans over to give him a brief overview of the whole plan thing. “It’s kind of embarrassing, really,” he mutters at the end.

Will sends him a bright smile. “Nah. It’s kind of sweet.”

Max mimes vomiting at them, so Mike throws a pillow at her.

“So, Will, enlighten us. Did our plans work?”

Will contemplates. “Well, Lucas’ definitely. Max’s was a nice addition. Dustin - your plan was just chaos and I’m still finding cinnamon in my hair.”

“Hey-” Dustin tries to object, but Mike cuts him off.

“El’s plan worked the best.”

The others look around at each other in disbelief. “What? El didn’t even have a plan, she helped with mine,” says Max.

El smiles from her perch next to Will. “My plan was the best plan, because it wasn’t a plan.”

“She basically told me just suck it up and get it over with,” Mike explains. “Really, someone should have said something sooner.”

“We tried-”

“You wouldn’t hear a word of it-”

“Oh, so now you’re capable of talking to Will like a normal person-”

Will ducks his head down to stage-whisper in Mike’s ear. “They’re just so supportive, aren’t they?”

“Truly, we have incredible friends.”

Will laughs and wraps an arm around El. “Well, I definitely have an incredible sister.”

And honestly, the whole moment is so incredibly saccharine that if Mike was surrounded by any other group of people, he would have found the entire thing obnoxious. But he supposes that they are a bunch of sixteen-year-olds at the end of the day, and this has been a long time coming, so he sits back and lets the conversation wash over him.

After the chaos dies down a bit, Dustin brings back their attention to what is really, the most important question.

“Wait, so, you weren’t joking before right? With the whole distraction bit? You really are moving back to Hawkins?”

Will and El exchange glances. “Yeah, we are,” Will says. “The lab and the Upside Down - it’s all gone now. And it’s been long enough that El won’t be in danger, and long enough that living here doesn’t feel like a nightmare, anymore. So, yeah. We’re moving back.”

Will’s words bring the tone down just a notch, and Mike finds himself feeling silently grateful as the high-strung energy seeps out of the room. 

Max gives a firm nod and turns to El. “It’s going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be great. And nothing’s happened for almost two years. You’ll be safe.”

“I know we will,” El says. “I’m sure of it.”

They all settle a little as the news sinks in. Lucas pulls El into a celebratory hug, and Dustin beams around at them all. 

“The party,” he proclaims with grandeur. “We were once apart, but now: together once more.”

Everyone collectively rolls their eyes (“Dustin, stop being pretentious-” “You seriously have got to start talking normally-” “You’re so overdramatic-”).

But the message sinks in nonetheless. The party is back, and they’re back for good. Mike grins to himself and nudges Will in the side. 

“Worthwhile trip, right?” he whispers. “And it’s not even Christmas Day yet.”

“Like I said,” Will whispers back. “Christmas Eve is always so much better.”

And he’s right. Between the overlapping chatter of his friends, the faint sound of Christmas music and wine glasses clinking from upstairs, the way Will is sitting next to him, their ankles tangled together, Hawkins has never felt more like home. 

[shih-coulda-had-it]

wip of the novelizing of The Uncanny X-Men issues 147-148, which features: Doctor Doom's first introduction to the new X-Men and Storm's almost-Phoenix moment. wolverine POV; pre-stormverine | rolo, but definitely on its way there

wc: 382

//

Logan’s sanity has been in question for a good decade. Optimistically speaking, it’s a work-in-progress. When he was Weapon X for the Canadian government, Heather and Mac made an effort to keep him on an even keel. More human than weapon. More reason than instinct.

He’d sensed he was hitting some kind of block by the time Xavier came to fetch him. Something that couldn’t be overcome by medicine or therapy prescribed by a bunch of doctors who pretended to understand what the hell was happening to him. 

And don’t get him wrong. Xavier pretends to understand too, but the professor’s got telepathy, and that at least gets him a better view to the struggle. It gets Logan the surety of a safety rope; painless, so he wouldn’t flinch and retaliate, and inexorable, so he couldn’t resist. The fact that the X-Men also gets him a front-row ticket to some of the worst mind-bending trips of Logan’s life is, well. 

Pessimistically speaking, Logan is losing the war to keep his goddamned mind. He’s lashing out on reflex and instinct, seeing enemies in his peripheral. 

It was bad under Scott’s leadership. It is worse now, but he won’t blame it on Ororo. 

The slide’s been building momentum. Too many slips without a save. Xavier can’t be there all the time, so Logan tries to keep rational on his own, tries to keep the bloodlust down now that there’s a genuine kid at the mansion. Kurt seems to get it; he offers out of genuine sincerity to let Logan blow off steam with their games in the woods, and more than once, Logan is sure that Kurt’s had something to do with making sure Logan bumps into Ororo once a day. 

Which, on principle, Logan resents. 

Logan is a grown-ass mutant who doesn’t need minding. Never mind the evidence that Ororo helps, just by offering a word, or a joke, or a shoulder, or a mug of coffee. If Kurt indulges Logan’s predatorial instincts, Ororo—settles them. They aren’t pressed down like they are when Xavier intervenes. They aren’t even redirected to productive, if equally destructive, purposes, which was a favorite tactic of Scott’s. 

It’s not good. He shouldn’t be thinking of Ororo like a touchstone. She’s more than her position as his team leader.

[thebiggerbear]

I keep seeing complaint posts about all of the free creative content people get on here. This is the second post I've come across on nicknames in stories alone in the past few weeks. Three quick things:

1) If you don't like a nickname or whatever about a story, simply click out of it and go about your day. Or engage with the writer and explain (respectfully/constructively) why you don't think the nickname fits that character/scene, etc.

2) You are literally getting this creative content for FREE. Someone who took time out of their busy lives to create content for a character/ship/fandom for YOU to enjoy. Rather than sit there and make fun of the story and/or writer with your buddies online, again move past it. If it's not your thing for whatever reason, then it's not your thing. It's as simple as that. No need to make shitposts that you purposely put in tags where said writer will see it so you can make them feel badly and possibly give up writing altogether. Just because they may have written something you don't like doesn't mean they're a bad writer.

3) You don't like a nickname in a story or whatever? Here's a question: how about you give writing a shot yourself and see what YOU come up with? And let's see how YOU do and how YOU feel when people start making shitposts about you and your story. Writing is not an easy process. Even the most successful published writers on the planet will tell you that. Even someone who sneezed which typed out 500 words of a fanfic randomly. So give it a shot for yourself and see what you come up with. And who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and find a new hobby for yourself. Something for you to enjoy rather than tear down for once.

Enough with these shitposts already and putting them in the tags for writers to see. If you have a complaint, make it to the writer directly in a respectful manner. Or just simply click out of the story and go find one you actually enjoy. There's a surplus amount of fanfiction on this site for various characters/ships/fandoms. It's really not that hard.

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇confessions finding our way back part 4; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend!idol!jongho x ex-girlfriend!single-mom!reader

│series masterlist│ │next│

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood, mentions of panic, stress, mentions of boys loving boys, i did not proof-read it😭

│words: 8.3k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! i'm back with another chapter! this one is more of an add-on than a full part, but it was necessary to include it to move the story forward and to establish the mood and dynamic between the characters. i also included some elements you wanted to see happening!

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA @treehouse-mouse

@ateez-atiny380 @sleepy-kat-here @sndeoki @bomi-ja

@dearinsaniiiity @vixensss @all-fandoms-rise @finnydraws

@hyuckiesgf @ateezswonderland

│ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

Jongho stood in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes after their meal. He felt happy and light. The laughter from earlier still echoed in his mind, filling him with a sense of warmth and belonging. The words of encouragement and support from his bandmates had lifted a weight off his shoulders. From now on, he knew he was supported and was certain that no matter what, his members loved him. As he rinsed the last plate and placed it in the drying rack, Jongho took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He could proceed to fight for his little family, confident that he wasn't alone on this journey. The bond with his bandmates had only grown stronger, and their unwavering support gave him the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead. He was thriving, ready to embrace the future with open arms and a determined heart. 

Lost in his thoughts, Jongho didn't hear Wooyoung approaching until his voice broke the silence. "Jongho?" Wooyoung called out, his voice echoing through the room. 

Jongho turned around, surprised to see Wooyoung standing in the kitchen, a concerned look on his face. "Oh, hyung," Jongho replied, wiping his hands on a towel. "What's up?" 

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment before speaking, his eyes searching Jongho's face. "I just wanted to check on you," he said softly. 

"Thanks, Wooyoung," Jongho replied, offering a small smile. "I'm doing better now, really. Your support means the world to me." 

Wooyoung nodded, his expression softening. "Just remember, we're all here for you, no matter what." 

"I have something for you. Can't believe I almost forgot," Jongho said with a grin. He jogged to Hongjoong's room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Even though Jongho knew his hyung was taking a shower, he knocked on the door before entering, his eyes scanning the room momentarily before he spotted what he was looking for. He quickly straight crossed the room and grabbed a purple box from Hongjoong’s desk. 

"I wanted to give this to you earlier, but with everything going on, it slipped my mind," Jongho explained as he returned, holding the box out with a smile. Wooyoung looked slightly taken aback and glanced at Jongho with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "It's from Nari," Jongho said with a warm smile, his head gesturing towards the purple box. "Go ahead, open it," Jongho encouraged, his eyes filled with a knowing anticipation. Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, then carefully lifted the lid of the box. 

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise as he carefully opened the box. Inside, nestled among delicate, purple tissue paper, was a small assortment of homemade cookies, each one meticulously decorated with colorful icing and sprinkles. "Cookies?" Wooyoung exclaimed, a delighted smile spreading across his face. "Did Nari make these?" he asked, his eyes shining with curiosity. 

Jongho nodded, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. "Yes, she wanted to make something special for you," he explained, his voice filled with pride 

Wooyoung's expression softened as he carefully picked up one of the cookies, examining the designs. Jongho's smile widened as he watched Wooyoung take a bite of the cookie, his eyes lighting up with delight. "These are amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Please tell Nari that I absolutely love them and that she's an incredible baker." 

"Or maybe you could do it yourself?" Jongho suggested, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "You know, instead of me playing messenger, you could thank Nari directly. She'd love to hear from you." 

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, then softened with affection. "You're right," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "I should thank her personally. She put so much effort into these cookies, and it's the least I can do." He looked at Jongho, his gaze filled with gratitude. 

Jongho's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as he watched Wooyoung savor the cookie. "You better not disappoint her," Jongho said, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. "She's my daughter, after all, and if you ever let her down, you'll have to answer to me." He finished with a playful smile, but the protective glint in his eyes made it clear he meant every word. 

Wooyoung chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, Jongho. I'll make sure to stay on her good side," he promised, a grin spreading across his face. 

Jongho laughed, shaking his head. "Good. Because if you don't, you're going to have to deal with my wrath," he teased, flexing his arms in an exaggerated manner. "And trust me, you don't want that." 

Wooyoung pretended to shiver, dramatically clutching his chest. "Oh no, not the wrath of Jongho! I'll be on my best behavior, I promise." 

Jongho couldn't help but laugh at Wooyoung's antics, the atmosphere lightening even more. "Alright, alright. I trust you," he said, patting Wooyoung on the back. 

Wooyoung grinned mischievously at Jongho, a playful glint in his eyes. "Aren't you a bit jealous I'm her favorite?" he teased, taking another bite of the cookie. 

Jongho rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Nope, not at all," Jongho replied confidently, his grin widening. "I know eventually she will love me the most. I'm her dad, after all." He winked at Wooyoung, who couldn't help but laugh. 

"Alright, you win this round," Wooyoung conceded with a chuckle. "But don't be too sure, I'll always be her favorite uncle." 

Jongho shook his head, a fond smile on his face. "We'll see about that, Wooyoung. We'll see." 

Wooyoung munched on another cookie, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "So, Jongho," he began, adopting a more serious tone, "what's the deal with Y/N? You haven't really talked much about her." 

"She... she was my first love," Jongho replied softly, his expression turning wistful as memories flooded back. He paused for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing. "She was everything to me. She was kind, smart, and incredibly loving. I remember how her eyes would light up whenever she talked about something she was passionate about."  

"How did you end up together?" Wooyoung asked, his curiosity evident. 

"Y/N confessed first; she was furious that I was taking so long to do so," Jongho chuckled, a fond smile playing on his lips. "She always had this fiery spirit, never afraid to speak her mind. I admired that about her, even if it sometimes meant I had to face her anger. But it was that same spirit that made me fall for her even more." Jongho smiled, his eyes reflecting the fondness of the memory. "After she confessed, I realized I had been a fool for not telling her sooner. We started spending even more time together, whenever I had time between practices, I would be with her, and it just felt right. She supported me through thick and thin, and before long, we knew we were meant to be together." He paused, looking at Wooyoung with a thoughtful expression. "It wasn't always easy, she was living as my secret, we were stealing moments but the love, it made everything worth it." 

Wooyoung's eyes softened with empathy, his gaze filled with understanding. "So, what happened?" he asked gently, wanting to offer his friend some comfort. 

Jongho sighed deeply, "We were stupidly in love, you know, head over heels for each other. But then Hongjoong found out about us and forced us to break up. He thought it was for the best. But now, when I found out about Nari, I-" Jongho's voice trailed off, filled with a mix of regret and confusion. 

"Wait, hold your horses, Jongho," Wooyoung interrupted, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "What do you mean Hongjoong made you break up?"  

Jongho took a deep breath, his eyes clouded with a mixture of regret and sadness. "I was practicing on my own, the studio was empty, and as usual Y/N came to see me." he began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Hongjoong came back. The look on his face when he saw us together—it was like a dagger to my heart. I knew in that instant that it was over for us." He paused, running a hand through his hair as if trying to find the right words to convey the weight of the moment. "I was a coward," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just stood there, frozen. Hongjoong was furious, and I could see the disappointment in his eyes. He didn't even give me a chance to explain. He said that we couldn't afford any distractions, that our careers were at stake. He made it clear that I had to choose between my love for her and my commitment to the band. And she… she just looked at me, waiting for me to do something, to say something." Jongho's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, "But I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to fight for her, not in that moment. I just stood there and watched her go, watched her walk out of my life." He sighed deeply; the sound filled with a sense of loss. "I watched her go, knowing that I was letting go of the one person who made everything worthwhile. And now, I have to live with that choice, knowing that I broke her heart and mine in the process." 

Wooyoung sighed, his brow furrowed, the cookie in his hand long forgotten. "I just don’t get it. If Hongjoong knew I had a boyfriend and didn’t do anything about it, then why when he found out about you and Y/N, he lost his mind over it? It's so confusing and honestly, it feels unfair. I mean, what's the difference between your relationship and mine? Why was it okay for me to have a boyfriend, but not for you to be with Y/N? It just doesn't make much sense." Wooyoung's eyes searched Jongho's face for answers, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. 

Jongho shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I wish I had an answer, Wooyoung," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Maybe Hongjoong saw something different in our situation, or maybe he was just trying to protect us in his own way. But it doesn't change that I lost her." 

"I couldn't help but overhear my name," Hongjoong stepped into the kitchen, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. His sudden appearance caused both Jongho and Wooyoung to turn towards him, their conversation coming to an abrupt halt. Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words. Hongjoong glanced between the two of them, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together what he had walked into. "What's going on?" he asked his voice calm but tinged with an undercurrent of worry. 

Jongho hesitated for a moment, then spoke up, his voice steady but filled with a mix of emotions. "We were just talking about... the past, and some decisions that were made." He glanced at Wooyoung, who nodded in silent support. 

Hongjoong's expression shifted, a hint of regret appearing in his eyes as he took in Jongho's words. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair before responding. "Jongho, I already told you; I did what I thought was best at the time." 

"But was it really the best for everyone involved?" Jongho questioned, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I lost someone I truly loved, and it feels like that decision was made for me." 

Hongjoong's shoulders slumped slightly, "All of us signed the contracts, Jongho," Hongjoong replied, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility. "I was only following the rules, as a good leader should." He paused, looking down as if the weight of his own words bore down on him. "You have to understand I was trying to protect the group, to make sure we stayed focused on our goals." 

"But in doing so, you took away something important from me," Jongho replied a bit harshly, his eyes reflecting the pain of the past. 

"It just seems unfair," Wooyoung chimed in, his voice filled with frustration. "Why was Jongho's relationship treated differently? Why did you never approach me about mine?" 

"Jongho was in a relationship during our rookie days," Hongjoong began, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and determination. He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "It was a crucial time for us. We got our first prize with Wave, and we were preparing for our Answer comeback." Hongjoong's gaze softened as he looked around the kitchen, searching for understanding in the faces of his bandmates."You must remember the pressure we were under. We were just starting to gain recognition, and every move we made was scrutinized." He sighed, running a hand through his hair again as he continued, "I felt like I had to make a tough decision for the sake of the group. I thought following the rules would help us stay focused on our goals." Hongjoong's eyes scanned the room once more, searching for understanding. "I know it seems harsh, but I was trying to protect what we had worked so hard for. I didn't want any distractions to take away from our success. Do you really not understand my point of view?" His voice softened, filled with a mix of regret and hope that his bandmates would see where he was coming from. The room fell silent, both Jongho and Wooyoung processing Hongjoong's words. "And when it came to you, Wooyoung, your relationship was almost two years after I made Jongho break up with Y/N," Hongjoong continued, his voice softer but still firm. "We were in another place with our career by then. I felt like you were mature enough to navigate both your career and your relationship." He looked at Wooyoung, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't want to do what I did to Jongho, so I decided to trust you and believe that you could handle it without it affecting our goals." 

"I know I was young," Jongho admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and longing. "But I just wish you could have put some faith in me back then. I understand you were trying to protect the group and our dreams, but it felt like my feelings and my relationship didn't matter. Y/N meant the world to me and losing her was one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I know that we were under a lot of pressure, but I believe we could have found a way to make it work without sacrificing our personal lives completely. I just wish there had been more trust in my ability to handle both." His eyes met Hongjoong's, filled with a mix of hurt and hope. "I needed your support back then, not just as a leader, but as a friend and a brother." 

Hongjoong's eyes softened, his expression filled with a mixture of regret and understanding. "I wish I had handled things differently." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want you to know that I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you." 

Jongho's expression softened as he listened to Hongjoong's words, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and forgiveness. "Thank you, hyung. That means a lot to me." He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"Alright now as we finally cleared the air, it’s bedtime," Hongjoong smiled, "We have early practice tomorrow, so let's make sure we're all well-rested and ready to give it our best." 

"Yeah, San's already asleep. I just came to check up on our maknae," Wooyoung smiled, his eyes filled with warmth and reassurance. 

"I think you should learn how to say no to San and finally send him off to sleep in his own bed," Hongjoong nagged, shaking his head slightly. "What's the point of him living in a separate dorm when he's spending almost every night here?" 

Wooyoung chuckled softly, shaking his head. "San's always been like this. Besides, it's not like I mind," Wooyoung smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I actually enjoy having him around, even if it means sharing my bed most nights." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He's just so clingy, but in a way that makes you feel needed and appreciated. It's one of the things I love about him." 

"You are too soft when it comes to San," Jongho pointed out, a teasing smile on his face. "You always let him get away with everything. One of these days, you're going to have to put your foot down and make him sleep in his own bed." 

Wooyoung chuckled, shaking his head. "I know, I know," he admitted, his eyes twinkling with affection. "But honestly, I don't mind. As I said before, San just has his way of making me feel needed and appreciated. It's hard to say no to that." 

Hongjoong smirked, crossing his arms. "Well, just don't come complaining to us when you wake up with no space on your own bed," he teased. "San's a bed hog, and you know it." 

Wooyoung laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he is. But he's my bed hog, and I wouldn't have it any other way." 

"I am just wondering how you are going to explain your relationship with San to your future boyfriend," Jongho joked teasingly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I mean, it's not every day you have to tell someone you're dating that you share your bed with your bandmate because he's too clingy to sleep in his own dorm." 

Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I guess I'll just have to find someone who understands the unique dynamics of our friendship," he replied, his voice filled with amusement. "Besides, anyone who wants to be with me will have to accept San as part of the package." 

Hongjoong smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good luck with that, Wooyoung. Just make sure your future boyfriend knows what he's signing up for. Sharing a bed with San is no small feat." 

Wooyoung chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Well, if they can't handle San, then they probably can't handle me either. So, it will be a good test of their commitment." 

Jongho nodded, a playful grin on his face. "Just make sure to give us a heads-up before introducing them to San’s nightly cuddles. We wouldn't want to scare them off too soon." 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to ease them into it. Besides, who could resist San's charm once they get to know him?" 

Jongho chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, Wooyoung, your future boyfriend might feel a bit threatened by your charming best friend who happens to share a bed with you," he teased, nudging Wooyoung playfully. "I mean, it's not every day someone has to compete with San for your attention." 

Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. "Well, if they can't handle a little competition, then maybe they're not the right one for me," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Anyone who wants to be with me will just have to get used to it." 

Jongho grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Just make sure to warn them about San's nightly cuddles." 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Oh, shut up, Jongho." 

The three of them shared a laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating as they enjoyed the light-hearted banter. "Alright, enough teasing for tonight," Hongjoong said, clapping his hands together. 

Wooyoung glanced at the cookie box in his hands, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "I'm keeping this," he said with a wink, his tone light and teasing. The boy hugged the cookie box tighter, as if it were a precious treasure. "You know, these cookies are really something special," he added, his voice softening. "I will tell Nari she's an amazing baker." With a final nod, Wooyoung exited the kitchen, the cookie box still clutched tightly in his arms. He walked down the hallway, a sense of contentment settling over him. As he reached the door to his room, he glanced back one last time, his heart swelling with affection for his bandmates. "Goodnight," he called out softly before disappearing into his room. 

Jongho and Hongjoong now stood in the kitchen alone, the silence between them comfortable and filled with understanding. 

"Goodnight, Nari's dad," Hongjoong said with a warm smile, patting Jongho on the shoulder. "You've done a great job today." 

Jongho chuckled softly, "Thanks, Hongjoong. It means a lot coming from you." He returned the smile, the weight of the past conversations lifting slightly. Hongjoong nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of pride and affection. "Goodnight, hyung." 

With one last pat on the shoulder, Hongjoong turned and left the kitchen, leaving Jongho alone with his thoughts. The room felt quieter now, but in the silence, Jongho found a sense of peace. As Jongho turned off the kitchen lights and made his way to his room, a small smile played on his lips. The journey might be tough, but with his little family by his side, he was ready to face whatever came next. 

"I think you are overreacting a little bit," you said as you looked at the man sitting beside you on the couch. His brows were furrowed, a sign that he was deep in thought. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he mulled over your words. 

"No, I'm not," Hyunwoo finally replied, his voice firm. He turned to face you, the seriousness in his eyes took you aback. "This is important," he added, taking your hand in his. 

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to ease his worries. "I know it is," you said softly, "and I also know that what I did was right." 

Hyunwoo sighed, his mind was racing with all the what-ifs and the potential outcomes of the situation. "It's just... I thought I was important enough for you to let me know you decided to tell the guy about Nari," he sighed, his gaze focused on a wall in front of him. 

His feelings were valid, and you understood where he came from, after all you’ve been best friends for years now. "Hyunwoo," you started, your voice soft, "you are important to me. You always have been. But this... this was something I had to do on my own." Your friend remained silent, his gaze shifting to meet yours. You could see the hurt in his eyes. "I should have told you," you admitted, "and I'm sorry I didn't. But I hope you understand why I did it." 

Hyunwoo sighed again, a long, drawn-out breath that seemed to carry the weight of his thoughts. "Actually, no, I don't understand why you did it," he admitted, his voice firm. "You don't need him," he stated, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his mind. 

You could see the frustration in his eyes, a testament to the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. "Listen," you began, your voice steady but filled with empathy, "I know you're trying to protect me. And I appreciate it, I really do. But this isn't about needing Jongho. It's about Nari. She has a right to know her dad." 

Hyunwoo was silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on yours. You could tell he was battling with his emotions, trying to make sense of the situation. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "I just... I just don't want you to get hurt," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Why don’t you understand this isn't about me and Jongho," you responded, your voice slightly raised, your frustration growing. "Nari deserves to know her dad. And Jongho deserved to know he has a daughter." Your words resonated in the room, a silent plea for understanding. "Plus, Jongho would never hurt me," 

"Oh, but I thought he already did hurt you once?" Hyunwoo scoffed, his words heavy with accusation and hurt. 

You rose from the couch, hands running through your hair in frustration. "That was very low of you," you shot back, your voice filled with hurt and disbelief. "We were just a couple of teenagers back then." 

"Why are you defending him?"  

"Because people change, Hyunwoo," you found the strength to reply, your voice steady and unwavering. "They grow, they learn, they evolve. Jongho is no exception." You paused, letting your words sink in, your gaze never leaving Hyunwoo's. "Even if I spent such a short time with him, I could see that he has changed, he's matured. He's not the boy I once knew, he's a man now." You swallowed hard, your next words coming out in a whisper, "Yes, he messed up, a big time. But he's more than his past mistakes. He's changed since then. He's grown, just like all of us." 

"He didn't fight for you! He didn't do anything to find you again, to contact you again! You deserve better than someone who just gave up!" Hyunwoo shot back, his voice echoing in the room. He rose from the couch, his entire body tense, neck flushing red from the surge of emotion. His words hung heavily in the room, echoing the hurt and frustration he had been bottling up. 

"He was scared, Hyunwoo," you replied, your voice filled with empathy. "He thought he was doing what was best for me, for us. Can't you see? He was protecting me, in his own way." You took a deep breath, steadying your voice before continuing, "And now, he's ready to make amends, to be a part of Nari's life." 

"How can he be a part of Nari's life though?" your friend scoffed, a hint of mockery in his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He's an idol, for God's sake. His life is all about concerts, photoshoots, fan meetings... Where does he think he'll find the time for Nari in all of that?" 

"He'll make time, Hyunwoo," you responded, your voice filled with conviction. "Jongho wants to be a part of Nari's life and he'll do whatever it takes. Yes, he's an idol. Yes, his life is busy. But that doesn't mean he can't be a father. He's ready to make the effort, to make the sacrifices necessary." You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "And I believe him." 

"Why do you believe him?" Hyunwoo asked, his voice still tinged with doubt. 

"Because I've seen the change in him," you said softly, your eyes meeting Hyunwoo's. "When he found out about Nari, he was shocked, yes, but he was also determined. He could have easily walked away, but he didn't. He's shown me that he's willing to fight for his daughter, and that means everything." You paused, letting your words sink in. "People do change, Hyunwoo. And sometimes, they just need a reason to show it." 

"Is this about money?" Hyunwoo put his hands on his hips, frustration evident in his voice. He was trying to understand why you would do it, but he simply couldn't find a reason. He had always been there for you; he should have been enough for you. 

Your blood boiled, your eyes wide with disbelief. "You're really going to accuse me of that!?" You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. The accusation felt like a slap in the face, a betrayal that cut deep. "Yes, I'm struggling," you admitted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "But to think that I would stoop so low as to seek money from Jongho? That's a low blow, even for you." Your words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his accusation causing a rift between you. 

Hyunwoo's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes as he realized the impact of his words. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I'm worried, okay?" 

"I know you are," you replied, your voice softening. "But you must trust me. This isn't about money or anything else. It's about giving Nari the chance to know her father and letting Jongho be a part of her life." 

"Y/N, I need to know... do you still love him?" Hyunwoo asked suddenly, his voice filled with a mix of hesitation and urgency. His eyes searched yours, seeking the truth behind your words. 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Hyunwoo's question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you weren't sure you were ready to give. You met his gaze, searching for the right words. "Hyunwoo," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I don't know if I still love him in the way you might mean. But what I do know is that he's Nari's father, and she deserves to know him. This isn't about my feelings. It's about what's best for her." 

"Jongho is not what's best for her," Hyunwoo stated firmly, his eyes filled with determination. 

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "That's not for you to decide," you replied, your voice steady. "Nari deserves to know her father, and Jongho deserves a chance to be in her life. You may not agree with my decision, but it's not your choice to make." 

"Nari deserves a father who won't disappear for months because he's touring outside the country," Hyunwoo voice was laced with frustration. "She deserves a father who will be with her when she suddenly gets sick, a father who will be there in case of an emergency. Not one who will be too busy pleasing his fans." His words were harsh but held a truth that was hard to ignore. You could hear the concern in his voice, a concern for Nari, and you knew he was right. But you also knew that Jongho had changed and that he was ready to be there for his daughter, regardless of his hectic schedule. "A father like me." The words hung in the air, Hyunwoo's confession echoing in the silence. His eyes bore into yours, filled with sincerity and resolve. 

You were taken aback by his words, the weight of his confession settling heavily between you. "I’m not sure if I understand what you mean, I..." You began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words. 

"I know it sounds crazy," he interrupted, his voice filled with a desperate sincerity. "But I've been there for Nari since she was one. I love her like she's my own daughter. I just want what's best for her, and I truly believe that I can be the father she needs." 

You stared at him, your heart aching with the complexity of the situation. "Hyunwoo, you've been an amazing friend and a wonderful figure in Nari's life. But this isn't about replacing Jongho. It's about giving Nari the chance to know her real father." 

"It frustrates me," Hyunwoo said, his voice filled with restrained emotion, "to hear how you defend him, how you try to justify everything simply because he's Nari's biological father." His gaze bore into yours, a mix of hurt and frustration evident in his eyes. "I've been here for you, for Nari, through everything. I've watched her grow, taken care of her, and loved her as if she were my own. And now, suddenly, he's in the picture, and you're ready to give him a chance just because of biology? What about everything we've built together, the bond we share?" He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "I get that Nari deserves to know her father, but it hurts to see you so willing to let him in, after all the years I've been by your side. I'm not saying this out of jealousy or spite. I just... I want what's best for both of you. And I'm scared that he won't be able to give you the stability and support that Nari needs." Hyunwoo's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his feelings pressing down on both of you. His voice softened, filled with sincerity, "I don't want to see you, or Nari get hurt, Y/N. I just want to protect you both, like I always have." He took a deep breath, gathering the courage to continue, "Because I love you, Y/N. I have for a while now," Hyunwoo added, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down as if the weight of his confession was too much to bear. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it aside because I didn't want to complicate things. But seeing you defend Jongho, it's tearing me apart. I can't keep it inside any longer. Every moment we've spent together, every laugh, every tear, has only made my feelings for you grow stronger. I always thought that one day, maybe you'd see me the way I see you. But now, with Jongho back in the picture, I'm afraid I'll lose you both." Hyunwoo's eyes were filled with a mixture of hope and despair as he looked at you. "I don't want to make this harder for you, but I can't stay silent anymore. You and Nari mean everything to me, and I want to be the one who's there for you, who supports you, who loves you. Not just as a friend, but as something more." 

His words hung in the air, filled with raw emotion and vulnerability. "I'm not asking you to make a decision right now," he added softly, "but I needed you to know how I feel. Because no matter what happens, I want you to be happy. And if being with Jongho is what makes you happy, then I'll find a way to accept it. But I had to be honest with you, Y/N. I had to let you know." 

You were speechless, Hyunwoo's confession leaving you overwhelmed with a mix of emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you processed everything he had said. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air; the room filled with a tense silence. 

"Hyunwoo," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "I had no idea you felt this way." You paused, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. "You've been such an important part of my life, of Nari's life. I can't imagine going through everything we've been through without you by our side." You took a step closer to Hyunwoo, his hand brushed against your arm. The warmth of his touch was comforting, you were about to speak again, to find the right words to address his heartfelt confession, when you heard Nari's cry piercing through the apartment, 

"Mommy!" The sound of her voice jolted you back to reality. You turned your head toward her room, your heart pounding in your chest. The urgency in Nari's voice was unmistakable, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background. You shared a brief, conflicted glance with Hyunwoo, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. "Mommy!" Nari called out again, her tiny voice echoing through the apartment. You could hear the fear and confusion in her tone, and it tugged at your heartstrings. Hyunwoo stepped back, giving you space to move, his expression softening as he watched you. 

"I... I need to go to her," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Hyunwoo nodded, understanding the urgency of the situation. You gave him a small, grateful smile before turning and hurrying toward Nari's room. You pushed the door open gently, finding Nari sitting up in her bed, her eyes wide with fear, filled with tears. Her small frame was trembling, and she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly. 

"Mommy," she cried out again, her voice breaking your heart. You rushed to her side, scooping her up into your arms and holding her close. 

"It's okay, sweetheart," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Mommy's here. It was just a dream." You rocked her gently, feeling her body slowly relax in your embrace. As you comforted Nari, your mind drifted back to the conversation with Hyunwoo. His confession, his raw vulnerability, and the depth of his feelings for you weighed heavily on your mind. You knew you couldn't ignore it, but right now, your focus was on your daughter. Nari's tears were flowing down her rosy cheeks, you patted her back gently, the rhythmic motion of your hand a comforting presence against the backdrop of her quiet sobs. You began to swing left and right, a soothing motion meant to calm her racing heart. "Shhh, my sweetheart, Mommy's here," you whispered, your voice soft and filled with love. She clung to you tightly, her small fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt as if letting go would mean losing her anchor. You continued to whisper sweet reassurances, each word a promise that you would always be there for her. The warmth of your embrace gradually began to melt her fears, her sobs slowing to small, hiccupping breaths. As you held her, you felt the tension in her body slowly ease, her muscles relaxing as the nightmare faded into a distant memory. "It's just a bad dream, sweetheart," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Mommy's here, and nothing will hurt you." Nari's breathing began to even out, the rhythm of her chest rising and falling in time with yours. You continued to rock her gently, the motion a lullaby that coaxed her back towards the safety of sleep. "You're safe, my love," you continued, your voice a soothing, "Mommy will always protect you." With each passing moment, you could feel her grip on you loosen, her small body growing heavier as sleep began to claim her once more. You stayed with her, holding her close until you were certain that the nightmare was truly gone. Only then did you carefully lay her back down, tucking her in. "Sweet dreams, my little girl," you whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. She mumbled something in her sleep, a soft and contented sound that made your heart swell with love. 

You made your way back to the living room, your mind still swirling with the events of the night. Hyunwoo was sitting on the couch, deep in thought, his hand resting on his chin. He seemed to sit completely still; his gaze fixed on the window as if searching for answers in the darkness outside. The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, the weight of his confession still hanging in the air. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were slightly hunched, and the furrow in his brow. It was clear that he was grappling with his emotions, just as you were. As you approached, the floor creaked softly beneath your feet, breaking the heavy silence. Every step you took felt measured, each one drawing you closer to a conversation you weren't sure you were ready to have. Hyunwoo didn't immediately turn to look at you; instead, he remained lost in his thoughts, the distant look in his eyes betraying the turmoil within him. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between you. Finally, you took a deep breath and walked closer, your presence a silent offer of support and understanding. 

"Hyunwoo," you said softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. He blinked, as if pulled from a trance, and turned to face you. His eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and resignation, met yours. The vulnerability in his gaze was palpable, and it struck a chord deep within you. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I didn't mean to complicate things," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just couldn't keep it inside any longer. Seeing you defend Jongho, it tore me apart. I needed you to know how I feel." 

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. "I didn't realize how you feel about me," you admitted, your voice equally soft. "You've always been there for Nari and me. I can't imagine going through everything we've faced without you." 

Hyunwoo's lips curved into a small, sad smile. "That's because I care about you both more than anything," he said. "I just want to protect you, to be there for you in every way possible." 

You sit down beside him, your body turning to him. "And you have been, Hyunwoo. You've been our rock. But this situation with Jongho... it's new and it’s complicated." 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know, and I don't want to make it harder for you. But I couldn't stay silent anymore. I want to be the one who's there for you, who loves you." His words hung heavy in the air; the intensity of his feelings evident in every syllable. "I'm not asking you to make a decision right now," he added softly, "No matter what happens, I want you to be happy. And if being with Jongho is what makes you happy, then I'll find a way to accept it." 

"Hyunwoo, it's too soon to think about me and Jongho, and talking about it with you now seems... wrong," you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I try to push my emotions aside; I can't afford to be distracted. I need to keep my guard up to make sure Nari is okay with all of this." You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "My priority right now is Nari. She needs stability, and I have to be strong for her. I can't let my emotions cloud my judgment. Jongho being in our lives is already a big change, and I need to focus on how it affects her." 

Hyunwoo's gaze softened as he listened to you, his eyes reflecting his understanding and concern. "I get it," he said quietly. "I know how much Nari means to you, and I don't want to make things harder." 

You nodded, appreciating his empathy. "I know this isn't easy for you either. But right now, I need to put Nari first. I need to make sure she's okay with all of this before I even think about anything else." You paused, your eyes meeting his. "And I need to figure out my own feelings too. This whole situation is overwhelming, and I need time to process everything." 

"I'm sorry if I've only added to your overwhelm," Hyunwoo said softly, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't mean to make things more complicated for you." He got up from the couch, it felt rushed as if he needed some physical distance from you right now. "I'll give you the time you need, Y/N. Take care of Nari and take care of yourself. I'm here if you need me." 

You nodded, gratitude welling up inside you. "Thank you, Hyunwoo," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "I appreciate everything you've done for us." 

"I should get going, it's already late," Hyunwoo said, his smile tinged with sadness and resignation. You nodded, understanding the need for him to leave but feeling a pang of sorrow at the thought of him walking out the door. He hesitated for a moment as if wanting to say something more, but instead, he turned and headed towards the door. You watched him go, the weight of his confession and the night's events settling over you heavily. As the door closed behind him, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your swirling thoughts. 

Jongho was abruptly woken up by a sound that was nothing like his alarm. Disoriented, he squinted in the dim light of his room, trying to pinpoint where the ringing was coming from. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, darted around the space. The persistent noise continued, pulling him further out of his groggy state. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and fumbled through the mess on his nightstand until he finally found his phone.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice low and rough from sleep.

"Jongho, I am so sorry to be calling you out of the blue like this," your voice filled his ears. You sounded stressed, and the urgency in your tone made his heart race. "I know it's so early," you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. Jongho glanced at his clock; it wasn’t even 6 am. The sky outside was still dark, the first hints of dawn barely visible on the horizon. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "But I need you," you finished, your voice trembling slightly. Jongho's mind raced, a hundred scenarios flashing through his head. He could hear the desperation in your voice, the way it wavered as if you were on the brink of tears. He sat up straighter, all traces of sleep forgotten as he focused on you.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Is everything okay?" He could hear you take a shaky breath on the other end, the sound amplifying the tension between you.

"It's just... I know it's Saturday, but something came up at work and my mom's not picking up. She must have put her phone on silent by accident. And I need to rush to work now. Nari... I can't bring her with me," you were talking fast, messily, your words tumbling out in a rush. Jongho could hear the stress in your voice, the way each sentence seemed to blend into the next. "I tried calling mom multiple times, but there's no answer. I don't know what else to do. I can't leave Nari alone, and I can't miss work. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. Can you come over and stay with her? I know it's a lot to ask, especially so early in the morning, but I really need your help." Your voice wavered, the desperation clear as you pleaded for assistance.

"Hey, calm down and breathe for me, yeah?" Jongho's voice was soothing, a gentle reassurance that cut through your panic. He could hear the sound of your ragged breaths on the other end, and after a moment, they began to slow and even out. "That's it," he encouraged softly, "just breathe." He waited until he was sure you had calmed down a bit before continuing. "I know you're stressed, but we'll figure this out together." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, already moving towards his closet. "I'm getting dressed right now. I'll be there in no time to pick her up, okay?"

Jongho could hear the relief in your voice as you responded, the edge of desperation giving way to gratitude. "Thank you so much, Jongho. I really appreciate this."

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his movements quick but deliberate. "It's no problem at all," he assured you, slipping on his shoes. "I'm happy to help. Just hang tight and I'll be there soon."

Hearing the calm confidence in his voice made you feel a little more in control. "Alright," you said, your voice steadier now.

"She's going to have a fun day with me," Jongho assured you. "I have a practice today, but she can dance around with us. She'll love it." His voice was filled with warmth and excitement, and you could almost picture the smile on his face. The thought of Nari dancing and having fun with Jongho brought a smile to your own face, easing some of the tension that had been weighing you down.

"You sure it's alright?" you felt the need to ask him again, your voice tinged with lingering concern.

''Y/N, I'm absolutely sure,'' Jongho replied, his tone unwavering and filled with warmth. ''I'm really happy to spend time with her today. You don't need to worry about a thing.'' His voice carried a calm confidence that was deeply comforting, and you could almost picture the reassuring smile on his face. ''This is an opportunity for us to bond and for me to be a part of her life in a meaningful way,'' he added, his words filled with a genuine eagerness that touched your heart. ''I've missed so much already, and I don't want to miss anymore. Spending the day with Nari is something I'm looking forward to, and I promise we'll have a great time together.''

You took a deep breath, Jongho's words slowly dissolving the knots of anxiety in your chest. ''Thank you, Jongho. It means a lot to me,'' you said, your voice softening with gratitude.

''It's no problem at all, Y/N,'' Jongho replied, his tone gentle. ''I'll be there soon. Just focus on what you need to do, and leave the rest to me.''

Knowing that Jongho was so willing and eager to help made you feel a sense of relief that was almost overwhelming. ''Alright,'' you responded, your voice steadier now. ''I'll see you soon.''

''See you soon,'' Jongho echoed the warmth in his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

[ladybyakuya]

| SWOON + NATSUKI SEBA .

+cw.—f!reader, canon-typical elements and themes, borderline yan themes, explic!t smūt, s/d dynamics + s/m themes, voice k!nk, strength k!nk, edging, use of sex toy ( vibrator ), orgasm denial,dubcon, begging, sub!space + sub!drop, praising, dacryphillia, aftercare

+wc.—2.6k

+syn.—Natsuki wanted to do something for you but that did not include hurting you; then, why are you crying ?

+notes. —This has been in my drafts for a few months when i made my debut post to the fandom but it's finally out. ngl the borderline yan behavior was a little hard for me to write given his character profile but i couldn't get that particular scene from my head. you'll see which scene I'm talking about when you get there and if you ended up spotting it please yell in tags / comments.this is also cross posted to ao3 & biker!gaku is my next post tho. | redirect to blog navigation.

Your relationship with Natsuki is ambiguous at best. You are an assassin. He is a weapon engineer. That is how things started between you two. You still remember the first time he asked you to volunteer for a test run for a particular weapon he made all by himself. He was so nonchalant as well as so tactless that it made you dismiss it. But you caved in eventually because he constantly kept nagging. He had the privilege to do so since you practically lived under the same roof as him, and ran into each other so many times throughout the whole day, making it impossible for you to avoid him.

“This is not going to be a habit,” you mentioned when you first volunteered and he just nodded. You swear you saw him laugh when he turned while nodding or could it be your imagination? 

Somehow this thin layer between being a test subject for his newly invented devices and batchmate diluted to the point that now he is testing you, your patience, and your sanity without using any of his newfound devices. You can not pinpoint when it all started, the dilution of such a boundary. A boundary that you dared not to cross with him. A boundary that you drew with the sole purpose of ceasing all sorts of expansion of his relationship with you. It was for him: to keep him out, not for you, and it failed to keep you safe yet it managed to shock you  whereas the mere existence of such a boundary tempted Natsuki enough to explore it, blur it, erase it, little by little until there was no trace of it.

Now, you are sitting on his lap legs sprawled apart to be as close to him as you can afford. He has both of your arms held under a tight grip keeping them at the valley of your waist. 

“Comfortable?” he asks, his lips grazing underneath your ear over your cheek ever so slightly as he inclines to check his grip on you. You give him a hum as a response. With his free hand, he pushes a hard bulb inside your pussy. You know what it is, a pleasuring toy, a vibrator but with your knowledge you considered it quite small. 

Seba-san said he wanted to surprise you with something. You have been so good to him, so helpful with his work, and needless to say so patient with him that he wants to do something for you; something that will make you content and happy, maybe wanting more of his surprises and thereby be dedicated to continue working with him on a pro-bono basis. 

What could be more rewarding for you than making you cum? That too for the first time? He heard you once. Talking about it to Shin, saying how you always had to take care of yourself. How nobody bothered enough to make you cum! Always busy with just getting themselves off first. Natsuki practically felt his body shiver. You have never orgasmed before? That's hard to believe. How could such no one make you cum with a face like that? So pretty, so expressive. Moreover, he knows— he is aware of it that he can achieve this feat, oh dear the range of pleasure he could provide you— makes it hard for him to think it through.

Natsuki turns on the vibrator and the intensity has already swept away all your attention from the surroundings channeling it all onto him. “Is that the highest bar?” One of his eyebrows stretches upwards. So, you want more. . .? Is this too little for you, dear? Natsuki does not give you an answer but increases the intensity just one more bar making your lips curl inwards. You tip your head down, let your eyelids fall and your vision goes dark for a second. The sound of vibration reaches your ear. He increases one more bar and it just threatens you to hold on to something, anything. 

Looking up you let out a wry awkward chuckle followed by a heavy gasp you ask, “Are there more?” Natsuki’s eyebrows pinch a little and then go back to normal.

“Yes.” His voice is low, raspy, and impatient. You try to loosen his grip but he is strong. You feel his grip on your wrist tightens further. “Three more buttons.” By now your legs have encapsulated his torso yet the urge to move your hips against his lower half does not go away. You do not want this sensation to stop either, just a little toned down but saying that might not give you the result you want.

Natsuki is not doing any better though. The choice of your clothing is bothering him, hindering him from studying you properly. He should have thought of that, perhaps buying you an outfit that would not expose your excited state too ludicrously. Honestly, he is holding back the urge to put his mouth on one of your nipples and suckle on it over the cloth. He can see it properly, your buttoned nipples. Do they match the color of your lips? 

You have started to whimper, just a little though like a wounded cat but that is not the sound he wanted to hear. He increases the intensity by another progression and your forehead rests on his shoulder sniveling. You are in desperate need of distraction. You just can not let him see you like this, crumble like a house of cards. You refuse to give him a glimpse of such an intimate moment. Not to mention it will be your first time too.

“You are so impressive.” Natsuki opined, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I would not have lasted this long.” He lies. He lies because he knows he will win if you two make a bet to see who lasts longer. Maybe Natsuki should save it for the next session. Turning your head, you glance at him, gasping with your mouth open as he intently watches your eyes glisten with water. “Just one more left. You can do this. I think—he pauses to glance at your lips for a second. “I believe you really can if you try,” he soaks his lips by running the tip of his tongue in a quick swipe.

It's obviously tempting. You lean for a kiss but he sways his upper body away. Ah! The hurt in your eyes. The shock. The frustration. The anger. This is what he wanted to witness: the downfall of your tranquil demeanor that you always carry with you in each step. He increases the intensity to the fullest making you close your eyes. The way you are whimpering and breathing could easily be mistaken as the sound of a dying creature. His is hard but that does not bother him as much if he can see the tears rolling down your cheeks as you arch your body. There are beads of perspiration over your forehead, and chest a little bit on your face and hands.

“Stop.” you welp. “Make it stop.” Natsuki keeps the remote aside on the table, running the tip of his index finger over his bottom lip rashly.

“Why do you want to stop? You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He brushes his fingers against your cunt over the cloth making you jump releasing a hiss of pleasure. “Look. You are so wet.” Even after touching you through the cloth, his fingers are so sticky. He stretches his fingers revealing the strings of your arousal and glances at you. You can barely hold back your tears. You can not figure out if those are tears of pleasure or the embarrassment seeping into you as he licks his slick fingers staring right into your eyes.

“Then, at least leave my hands.” You say huffing it out with a pained sob then, start to cry making him go silent for a few seconds. He probably forgets to breathe until your whimpers start to get elongated, louder and finally turn into lewd cries of pleasure. This is a pleasure, yeah! It definitely is. He does not know what pleasure would look like on your face. So, he assumes it; even fantasizes about it a couple of times.

“No, that I can’t do.” He whispers but a mumble reaches to your ears. “But I can do this,” He states, taking his free hand behind you and interlacing his fingers with yours. It relaxes your strained muscles. He still kept his grip tightened while filling the gaps of your fingers with his not giving you even a bleak chance to free your hand. 

Now his face is closer to yours but you know better than to pursue the desire of putting your lips on his. He rests his chin just at the advent of your cleavage on your chest watching you as you start to twist and turn your body, buck your hips. Your feet stretch out as farther it can as the wave finally stops hitting the shore. The way you inhaled through your mouth and then exhaled it felt like you were about to puke. Natsuki was the first to question, “What just happened? I didn't…

“Why did you stop?” 

“I didn’t.”  Is he lying? Is this fun to him? Tormenting you to the point of ruin. Natsuki can see your lips droop like the wilting petals of a flower, eyebrows growing closer to each other. You roll your bottom lip inside your mouth unable to take it anymore, feeling a wave of sorrow building inside your ribs. But you do not feel Natsuki’s hand anymore. So, without wasting any further seconds to got out of his clutches and ran towards the bathroom. Natsuki follows without thinking anything only to be met with the chocolate of the wood. 

As soon as you bolt the door of the bathroom it all comes crashing down— flashes of his face when he was touching you, looking too fondly than he should, pushing your limits, and making you cum. You could not help but feel the guilt of it all since it was truly your fault all along. You could have said no and he would have listened. He is not that cruel. No. Never that cruel to you but you gave in because you were curious too. You were eager to know how it would feel to orgasm, to be touched so fondly and full of desire. And, you saw that desire in his eyes: that greedy lustful desire but you were wrong to think that you could contain it all in. Now it is oozing out of you, out of him. This realization that came so suddenly and so strongly which has been dormant for years, perhaps when you started frequenting his room often after being his mock-up weapon tester lets another wave of misery wash over you. Does he like you back the way you like him?

“I’m sorry.” You hear Natsuki’s voice. It is faded but you hear it, his breathing too. “I’m sorry.” Then again, “I’m sorry. . .I’m sorry. I— I will never do this again.”

“You don’t know that.”  You shout from the inside of the bathroom, your voice hitting the walls howls back at you, and then you gasp before finally breaking into a sob. It hurts. It pains. It aches. It agonizes you to think of anything or even touch yourself to release that piled up pressure in you. You feel as if there was no spark fiery enough to create wildfire in your body. All those hook-ups and bad dates that ended up with you being used as a thing to get off . . . they are all coming back to you now . . .maybe it's you. . .maybe it's you who can’t cum and that is why they did what they craved: took care of themselves with your help.

Natsuki can hear you; your faint sob coming through the locked thick wooden door as he stands leaning his head on it. He knows saying sorry no matter how many times would be useless now but he still wanted to say it because it was never his intention to hurt you like this. He just wanted to see your pleasure and push you to the high end of your limits, show you something so strong, so impactful that every time you would touch yourself you would think of him, so every time you ever think of going out with another guy you would think of him. As Natsuki’s head rests on the wooden door he draws lazy patterns on the doors while waiting for you to come out. 

It has been over half an hour. Natsuki does not mind standing even though you have not replied. But one thing has changed you have stopped crying. He can not hear your sobs anymore. He finally sits on the ground hearing something from the other side, his face still facing the door. He is waiting for you to come out, and see your face.

“Natsu, are you still there?” Your voice is murky. It wobbles as you speak more.

“Yes. yes. Of course. Am still here. Still here.” Natuski hears the lock of the door open with a click but you wait before pulling the door inside the bathroom to open it. You see Natsuki flopped on the floor, legs one of the other loosely placed with his headphones still as it was.

“Congrats. You broke the vibrator.” That was the first thing he could say when he saw you, your red swollen eyes. You are drenched from head to toe, water dripping on the floor as Natuski is forced to remember certain days when you would come home like this. Is this your coping mechanism?

“What?”

“Well. It was my fault too . . .” his eyes pull away from you as he confesses. He can’t think of anything other than being near you. He does not want you to watch you fall apart. If you do, he will be there to pick up the pieces and build Rome again. He knows it’ll be different Rome, he knows that but still worth a try. “Shall we go eat something? You must be hungry.” 

“Nah!” you walk past him, fully drenched looking for a towel. You appreciate his sentiment, you really do but right now you do not want those pair of eyes to look at you. Natsuki gets up and walks up to you holding you by your upper arm and jerking you towards himself. You do not protest much. You are tough. You can handle it when he is rough with you but lust and desire are oozing out of you. It’s hard to just watch and not do anything about it, about the spill. 

Natsuki cups one of your breasts and you cling to his touch like a branch of a tree reaching out for sunlight. He wets his bottom lip before pressing his thumb over your nipple. It does not take for him to wipe the boundary off that you had put up to keep him away. His lips on yours cascading like waterfall from a mountain,hand tending to your breast while your hands find a way to clamp around his shoulders pulling him into the kiss, dampening his clothes more and more till he squeezes your breasts a little too hard making you come back to reality, pushing him away to breath again. Your shoulders are against his chest now. His grip over your upper arm is still intact. He won’t let you go. He won’t let you go. He won’t.

“If you don’t take care of yourself then I'll be forced to do so.”  Your eyes are so sharp as you swat your head to look at him. 

“Yes.” You murmur and glance at his lips. “Yes. Yes. ‘course.” You lean towards him a little saying, “I’m hungry, very much hungry.” as your lips clash against his again.

[contact-guy]

heyyy I hope it's okay to send an ask! I just wanted to know about your art process, if you got any advise. Because I'm in love with your SH doodles, they're so dynamic and lively and the shading is such a nice accent yet it remains somewhat minimalistic? I'm relatively decent at realism but want to develop my own character in drawing more and I'm wondering how you arrived at yours, did you have a method? Thanks in advance^^

love to talk about DRAWING......

The short answer is that because I want to draw them a lot, and have limited time, I can't be too precious about how the final result looks! So a lack of perfectionism and a desire for speed ends up forcing me to simplify and stylize them. This was an organic process (if you scroll down my art tag you can see I was drawing them with a bit more detail, finish, and care a few months ago - I was illustrating vs what I'm doing now, cartooning).

Ideally when you are cartooning, every line of the character's face is doing work to make them THEM, and to tell a story. No unnecessary lines! I find that story is best expressed through eyes, eyebrows, and mouth (this might be different for you). Those features can and should change shape to express emotion. They are usually what I draw first, to figure out the emotion, and they're what I spend the most time tweaking.

The rest of the features - face shape, cheekbones, nose, forehead, ears, hairline - are less emotive, less 'plastic', they don't change shape much. These are doing work to make the character recognizable. I try to keep them simple and have a few simple rules that I can remember about each character.

(Watson is tricky because of his mustache! I've found that treating it as part of his mouth rather than a distinct piece works best, but even so it makes his face less emotive - which, honestly, works for the character, as he is less demonstrative than Holmes)

I'll usually do a simple underdrawing to figure out what the body is doing - trying to capture the energy of a pose and, again, thinking about what story the body is telling.

Then I 'ink' in the clothing, following the lines of the body and gravity. Victorian clothing is fun to draw, I find that the structure around the shoulders and neckline lends itself to expressive poses. I did a bunch of Victorian clothing studies a few months ago and felt like I built up a 'library' in my head so that I don't need to reference it every time.

Shading is incredibly minimal and quick. In really simple drawings, its purpose is usually to distinguish characters from the background. In more detailed ones, it's to give them a little dimension and focus the eye to the faces.

Every choice I make is in service of readability rather than beauty or accuracy, if that makes sense. So it is quite a different mindset than when you're drawing realistically or painting.

I hope this was helpful! I am a professional artist but whenever I get sucked into a fandom I find myself making leaps and bounds in my craft because I want to draw so MUCH and don't care about making it polished...truly shout out to hyperfixation for the gifts it brings

[ashbeneviento]

Hey so ✨rant time✨ about the village fandom (again, sorry y’all)

This post will contain dark themes so TW:R*pe, Dubious consent, kinks such as somno under the ***

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It’s totally fine to not be into CNC, or related kinks such as somno or DC. It’s totally fine to not want to read about them either! HOWEVER

What is not fine is to pretend that properly tagged fics are out there to get you. You see the tag, you move on. You aren’t exposed to it unless you CLICK. TO. READ. THEM. It’s not fine to proclaim that we are doing a disservice to the characters by writing them in such ways. It’s also not a disservice to actual victims to enjoy, or even write about said themes. Most of the people who write these fics, if not all, are victims themselves. Most of the people who enjoy reading these fics are also victims. I am one of those people! It is not only a healthy outlet for me, it’s also just.. normal? To have these kinks. (Also sometimes the story includes it purely for plot purposes and isn’t always the main theme for the story)

Keep in mind that these are villains who torture and canonically murder innocent people. They are mutants, creatures, monsters..that alone is “taboo” if you find them attractive. They aren’t sunshine and rainbows, y’all. They are going to do dark, villainous things because they are dark and villainous. I enjoy the soft, fluffy and sweet HC’s too. And when I want to read those I purposely search for those tags. You have tools to work around your triggers. Tag blocking, muted words, filtered searches that will take you to your destination. If you happen to see tags that you don’t vibe with, it is your responsibility to scroll. What we aren’t going to do is try and dictate what “safe media” is because that leads down a very slippery slope of censorship.

And I get it! I used to feel the same way. This isn’t me being like “the real world doesn’t have trigger warnings” because it absolutely does. What matters is what you do with them, though. You cannot prepare yourself for them happening out of your control, no…and it sucks when media doesn’t properly inform you of its content, but it’s your responsibility to practice online safety as well. Tags are a great example of putting it into practice.

It’s just kinda off to be surprised that a fandom for a horror game that includes really evil characters.. writes them as evil? We all experience our traumas differently and there’s no right or wrong way unless you are purposefully hurting others. Hopefully this doesn’t come across as mean but I genuinely hope my message gets through.

Thank you and good time zone to you all

[911countdowntochristmas]

911 Countdown to Christmas

What is 911 countdown to Christmas?

A 9-1-1 focused event in which we countdown to Christmas with fanworks. This can be fics, edits, art, playlists, poems, or anything else you can think of. If you choose the 24-days option, you post one prompt a day. If you choose the 12-days option, you can choose between two dates to post a prompt. Fanworks can be focused on relationships, friendships, or a singular character.

Why this account?

I did a poll on @911buddieweek and though the option to host this on there won, I felt like it could get confusing to host it on there since this is not a Buddie-only event, which is why I made this separate account.

This way people who don't want to participate or follow Buddie Week can keep updated on this event, and updates for events will be separated

Do I have to post every day?

Nah, you can do whatever you want! If only 3 of these speak to you, you can only post those 3 days. It's entirely up to you!

Are there rules?

Tag accordingly - this event is open to all ages. Smut is allowed, but make sure it's tagged as such! Also tag trigger warnings.

No character bashing (though toxic parents don't count... bash away). Let's stay positive in this event. It's open for everyone in the 911 fandom...

...EXCEPT if you're gonna write pedophilia fics please stay away. Adult/minor fics will be removed.

The use of AI is NOT allowed.

Where can I post?

Anywhere you want! I will be making a collection on AO3 once December nears. You can post on here, on insta, twitter, any other place I can't think of at the moment.

Is this time limited?

It's okay if you miss a day, or post 12 fics on the same day. While the purpose is to count down, you can post whenever you want. Heck, if you're from the future and living in 2026, you can still post too! The ao3 collection will stay open.

Do I have to sign up?

Nope, you can just join. Though I'd love to know if you reply/reblog saying if you're participating!

I have a different question

You can send me a DM on here, on @911buddieweek or on my main @smilingbuckley. Asks for this account should be open (my main has them closed). If contact via Tumblr freaks you out, you can also DM me on Instagram (smilingbuckley).

[tswaney17]

Some Perspective

The drama surrounding Elain Week is utterly ridiculous, and I cannot believe I'm having to write this, but for some unknown reason, people just can't seem to grasp the purpose of the "no abusers" rule set by the event team. So, let me break this down for you.

First off, this is not a shipping event. Elain Week is about (surprise!) Elain Archeron. It is a week designed to celebrate the love of her character. There is one prompt that is specifically designated for relationships. However, that can include her relationships with her sisters, her friends, and yes, potential love interests. The week is not supposed to be focused on those around her. It is supposed to be about HER.

Now let's address the whole ship thing. This rule has been in place for several years now. It is not new. So, why is it now such a big deal? After several years of having this rule in place, why is it only now becoming a big issue? Does it really bother you, or are you just looking for a fight?

But why was the rule put in place to begin with? Elain is one of the most hated characters (if not the most) in the ACOTAR fandom (for reasons I cannot even fathom). Is it because she's a traditionally soft, feminine character or because the fictional male you like actually has shown interest in her? Either way, Elain is often shipped with CANON DOMESTIC VIOLENCE ABUSERS such as Tamlin or Beron (or Flynn's DV father from Crescent City - yes, I have seen this) to make her "interesting" or to "make him better" (incase you have forgotten: women are not a rehabilitation center for broken men). Or, she's shipped with them to dehumanize her, to demean her, or even degrade her. Again, let me reiterate that this week is about positively celebrating Elain's character. So, why would the event hosts want to share art or fics or creative content that does the exact opposite? Why should those that truly love Elain be forced to watch you rip her apart during HER appreciation week? How is that fair?

Is it possible that there are some people who truly ship Elain with DV abusers with good intentions? Yes, absolutely. But is it fair to ask the event hosts to have to search through every single post and make a determination whether it's positively or negatively reflecting Elain's character? No.

If they decided to do that, and made a decision to not share some content that was determined to not attribute positively to Elain's character, would you still be throwing a fit? - Do I need to actually answer this one because we know what it would be.

So, they made a choice to set a boundary to 1) protect their DV victims who have voiced concerns in the past and 2) to ensure that this appreciation week for Elain Archeron actually stays positive. They are not saying you can't ship who you want. They have not said you cannot create whatever content you want for this event. They are only choosing to ensure that the pages dedicated to Elain remain clean of Elain hate and slander.

Ship who you want, have appreciation weeks for whatever you decide, it literally doesn't matter. But don't come at the event hosts for striving to keep things positive for a character that nine times out of ten, is negatively spoken about. If you don't like it, you are more than welcome to host your own.

Which brings me back to my earlier question... Those that are up in arms about this rule and who are bullying the event hosts (don't deny that you are, I've seen some of things being said. I've scrolled through the tags. You are indeed, bullying and harassing the hosts.), tell me - were you actually going to participate in Elain Week or are you, as I mentioned before, just looking to pick a fight?

[yevgenyyyy]

a sincere note about @/benjicotblckwood

Hi. I'm making this post to alert the hotd fandom about the utterly disturbing behavior of user @/benjicotblckwood (their other blogs: soulsbrne, cregnstark). Some of you might already be familiar with this blog and their posts, since they constantly spam the "cregan stark" and "tom taylor" tags with their inbox messages. Some of you might already have them blocked.

I've filtered and blocked all the tags and blogs that I could, but I've honestly had enough, and I feel obligated to make this post, as I believe it concerns all of us as a fandom. The way they choose to "conduct" themselves on this platform is abhorrent, showing an acute lack of respect and consideration for other users, and worst of all, for some of the actors - real human beings - involved in the show. They have already deleted many of the posts that I show and link below (I wonder why), but these are only a few drops in an ocean. I didn't even bother to scroll that far on their blog.

I want to preface this by saying: whether you choose to read this in full or not, I am begging you not to send them hate or to harass them in any way, shape, or form. That is NEITHER my intention nor my purpose. If you are angry, disgusted, etc., please, please, please just report and/or block them. Don't engage with them.

For the past few months, together with the anons and blogs they enable (and who enable them in return), they have repeatedly made incredibly disgusting and sexually explicit comments about Tom Taylor and Kieran Burton, tagging almost all of the posts with the actors' names and/or the characters they play, thus clogging the tags with shit like this (I suspect that they have since deleted some of the tags):

bonus: why was this post even tagged as Cregan Stark?

To further demonstrate that they do not see Tom Taylor as a real person but rather as an object to hypersexualise, they read and reblogged rpf (real person fanfiction) of him:

They have repeatedly stated that they comment on every instagram and tiktok post from Tom Taylor and Kieran Burton, asking them for their heights (and fuck knows what else). They themselves referred to this as harassment, which it very much is.

what DO you say on twitter, benjicotblckwood?

They constantly post clips and videos of Tom Taylor, where he is, who he is with, and what he is up to, often adding their own speculations and gross comments. This is literally cyberstalking. They even keep the things that he himself ends up deleting. (the post below is about a song Tom Taylor made and deleted)

Here are links to some deleted posts that contained some of their invasive and disgusting comments about Tom Taylor, his body, etc.:

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758616703482675200/tom-is-over-6-feet-tall-and-hes-got-a-fat-juicy

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758022883677192192/thomas-joseph-taylor-bradshaw-please-let-me-hit

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758270274319810560/i-wish-that-truck-stop-employee-would-fuck-me-in?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758267144930738176/i-love-and-hate-that-tom-is-so-mysterious-like-i?source=share [they talked about "gatekeeping" and not wanting to "share" Tom Taylor in this one, 'cause.... you know... he's not a real person, obviously]

They also zoomed in on Harry Collett's underwear:

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758272062982930432/the-fact-that-you-zoomed-in-and-enhanced-the?source=share [deleted post]

https://www.tumblr.com/benjicotblckwood/758267589006884864/like-there-is-absolutely-no-way-harry-had-boxers?source=share [deleted post]

I assume, because they constantly appear in the tags with questionable content (I'm being polite), they have been getting called out by multiple people (admittedly, not in a constructive way aka via anon hate). They got incredibly defensive (used buzzfeed and others doing similar things as excuses), acted like they didn't know what they were being called out for, and eventually deleted most of the posts. Don't get it twisted. These aren't jokes. This isn't what fandoms are. This isn't what fandoms are for. This isn't about a "handful" of "jokes" from today or yesterday. This is about dozens and dozens of posts (many of them incredibly disgusting and invasive) about real human beings, made over months and months, every single day.

Finally, I arrive at the reason why I'm making this post. They used the g*nocide in G*za to deflect from the shitshow on their blog. This isn't even performative activism. It's pure evil, in what I can only assume is an attempt to portray themselves as a good person who still has morals and empathy. As far as I'm aware, they have never ONCE shared a post, a fundraiser, anything about the topic on tumblr. But they chose this day, after responding to and deleting posts calling them out for their repulsive behavior online. This is beyond vile. This is fucking unacceptable.

I will conclude by reiterating what I wrote earlier: Please do not send them hate. Please do not harass them in any way, shape, or form. Please just report and/or block them.

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 3 Eng Sub

VS CONFESSION and VS CUPID

For downloading instructions and where to find the raw files please check our masterpost

[Subs link]

We ask that you not upload our subs to streaming sites.

Sharing with friends is fine. We’re also OK with folks sharing them in other ways as long as they aren’t public. Please use discretion when talking about the fansub outside of tumblr, but don’t hesitate to get the word out in other ways, and feel free to promote it here. Please credit ikeoji-subs whenever possible--we put a lot of time and effort into this.

Feel free to use the fansub for fandom purposes. Gif-making, meta-writing, and other fandom-related creative endeavors made using our fansub are not only welcome but encouraged.

Thanks so much to everyone interacting with our fansub posts and leaving appreciative comments in the tags! It’s super motivating for us and makes all the effort worth it.

And big thanks to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for gifs! We’re so lucky to be able to benefit from your skills.

translation notes:

about “suki” vs. “tsuki” (3:32)

This is explained in a brief translation note in the subtitles, and there isn’t a ton left to say about it that wasn’t stated there. But due to the amount of dialogue happening in this scene, we had to keep the note as short as possible and we weren’t able to keep it onscreen for very long, so it still bears mentioning here. 

In Japanese, the words “suki” and “tsuki” sound quite similar. “Suki,” as a lot of BL viewers know, means “like” or “liking,” whereas “tsuki” means “moon.” Hatano is saying “suki desu” to Mob, which in this context means he’s basically declaring his love for him. Mob is using the resemblance between “suki” and “tsuki” to pretend that he thinks Hatano said something to him about the moon. Then he uses the English word “moon” a couple of times, seemingly to ensure that Hatano won’t be able to turn around and take his “tsuki” as “suki.” 

As Mob says, usually a maneuver like this would make the person declaring their feelings get so self-conscious that they’d back off. But Hatano’s not a typical suitor, as Mob soon learns.–Towel

about “perfect match” (15:31)

I mentioned in our translation note about episode 1 that the red and blue beams that shoot out of Mob’s eyes seemed like a reference to his character from Kamen Rider Build. This time, I kind of made my own Easter egg about that show.

I mentioned before that Inukai Atsuhiro played the main Rider–and title character–on Kamen Rider Build. Kamen Riders always have some kind of transformation item, sometimes with interchangeable components. They're typically some kind of object attached to a belt, sort of like a massive buckle, that you can put smaller items into. The components that Build (a.k.a. Kiryu Sento) used at first (and to an extent, later in the series) involved “bottles” that were each named after some kind of object or animal. He would use two at a time, and the resulting juxtaposition (e.g. RabbitTank) would be reflected in his suit form somehow. But not every combination of bottles worked together, and some resulted in more effective suit forms than others. When Sento found a really good combination, his transformation device would designate it a “best match.” A “best match” resulted in more strength and more effective abilities to fight villains. 

Sento showing Banjou how best matches work

The phrase “best match” didn’t exactly fit here. But when I was polishing up this line and the word “match” came to mind, I felt like I had to at least try to word it in a way that would allow me to say something reminiscent of it--hence "perfect match." I hope some Build fans will recognize the sorta-reference!–Towel

Banjou annoying Sento by guessing a best match combination on his first try

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[creatingblackcharacters]

Where is the line when it comes to calling out how people draw black characters? Im genuinely asking. Just did some digging in the elphaba tag. 28/35 of the top art did a great job of depicting her microbraids. Of those 7 that did a bad job, all but 2 of them put in effort to draw microbraids, its just that some of those artists arent very good. So… theyre practicing. Additionally, there were 2 pieces of art (in addition to that 35) that were clearly depicting the musical and book art (obvious fans for years, from before cynthia was cast and the movie). So… wheres the line? Do we call out just those 2 who didnt put in a real effort to draw her microbraids? Do we call out all 7 who didnt draw them well? Do we message them privately, even though we really dont know them at all besides this one piece we happened to come across? Do we send them an ask about it and hope they arent malicious? It stands to reason that they KNOW they should put in an effort, theyre in the *obvious* minority of artists in this fandom so… odds are they do not give a fuck about depicting Black hairstyles well. I dont want to make a fuss where its not beneficial, especially as a non black person, for the obvious reasons of how fandoms typically treat black fans. But, there IS an issue, however small a percentage… so wheres the line?

I must admit, this one gave me an off vibe 😅 To one of your concerns, Let me put it this way:

"I know that Nazi will never change his mind, so I'll let him keep speaking loudly in the room where I and everyone else is sitting. It won't make a difference if I say anything to him. If we ignore him, he'll go away."

Is that true?

Or will speaking up let that Nazi know that at least ONE person in the room hears their bullshit and doesn't accept it? Will speaking up let the people in the room that the Nazi was targeting realize that everyone else in the room isn't also a Nazi that condones the way they're being treated? Will it allow them to feel stronger in speaking up? Will it at least show that you are not a fellow Nazi, because your actions are what deliver- and silence and tolerance delivers nothing, in this case?

"Making a fuss where it's not beneficial"- I always say here that my entire purpose is not to change your minds, but to shatter the excuse of your ignorance. I could have always just ended it with "everyone's a goddamn racist for funsies on here and I hate all of you"- because in my experience when we talk about "where's the line" on here, it's almost non-existent for the majority, not the minority! It's incredibly tempting to damn you all!

Instead, I made an entire blog to give people a chance. If I, who actually undergoes the very bigotry I teach about, have the grace to do that for you, I do believe that everyone else can reach inside for the strength to apply and hold accountable. There's always a benefit to speaking up against racism and injustice, even if it's not "changing their mind".

Now, if you genuinely just don't want to do that, then don't- but recognize that that's not because nothing can be done! That said, you don't have to fight every battle, and every battle doesn't have to be a fight! For those who you genuinely think are just "new" or "learning" artists, when you point out the issue, you can offer guidance. "Hey, here's an idea on how to better capture this braid pattern in a way that more accurately reflects Black hair". It doesn't have to be a "callout" off rip. If they don't take it well, then that's on them. That's a reflection of their character, not yours. And as a nonblack person, that is a role in your allyship that is important, because I don't expect Black people to have to show grace and teach to those who do wrong by us.

So no, I can't give you some statistically defined line of "oh this is antiblackness". because it's not that simple and it never has been.

[toxicanonymity]

boyd-a-thon fic drive.

In this event, I donate $10/fic to Palestine Children's Relief Fund for smutty Boyd Holbrook character fics. You write a fic, 500-3k words. To participate, please tag #boyd-a-thon, me, and @lustaffairs.

Event Masterlist (ongoing). Optional Prompts

Done: 20 | Remaining: 10

I went ahead and made all the donations, but would love for people to keep participating and be added to the masterlist until it reaches 30 fics.

BACKGROUND: In thanks for these fics, I donated $10/fic to palestine children's relief fund, which is a top rated organization on charity navigator. I decided to continue this for more fics.

It can be any character on Boyd's IMDB, including - Donald Pierce (Logan), Clement Mansell (Justified City Primeval), Billy (Skeleton Twins), Amos Jenkins (Little Accidents) Mo Lundy (The Free World), Steve Murphy (Narcos), Ty Shaw (Vengeance 2022), and more. . .There's not always a steady flow of Boyd character fics, the fandom deserves to feast (including the amazing gifmakers), and this is what I crave.

I don't care if I've never heard of you, or if it's your first fic. It can be porn without plot. It can be an AU like mafia, stepcest, etc. it can be out of character. 500-3k words? Brownie points from me for vaginal sex or jacking off. But this isn't limited to F/M, you can do a reader or character pairing of your choice.

Target - April 30 but no hard deadline.

PLEASE USE A READMORE text divider🙏 so I can reblog, and please include approximate word count if you don't mind. There will also be a masterlist. If I don't interact within a day, please DM. I will donate at the end of each week.

current gif by @boydholbrook-fan <33 always amazing

--------

I made a pcrf acct for this purpose but have also donated multiple times without an account, and it was very easy. I didn't even have to give my phone number. You can choose any amount to give. You don't have to use their pre-set amounts.

Your donation allows PCRF to deliver on its humanitarian mission and send international volunteer medical missions to treat sick and injured patients while training local doctors. It also enables PCRF to send wounded and sick children abroad for free medical care they cannot get locally. As a 4-star rated charity for the past 11 years, you can be sure that your donation will have the biggest impact on the lives of children in the Middle East, regardless of politics or religion.

$10 is comparable to ~15,000 clicks (on arab.org).

Last donation: May 25

IMG: PCRF dashboard says good afternoon, toxi! and shows I've given $300 through the acct I made for this event.

[blackbird-brewster]

Meta: Jemily Queerbaiting

With the huge influx of posts saying 'Jemily is gonna be canon', I really appreciated seeing this post because OP was completely correct. I didn't want to write an entire dissertation as a reply, so I'm making my own post with my personal opinion on this. (All sources are noted in footnotes)

Before I began this rant, for anyone who thinks this is anti-Jemily. It is not. I have shipped Jemily for 18 friggin years and that's never going to change. This post is specifically my thoughts about queer baiting.

First off, I need to note that the showrunners (and the cast members who use social media) KNOW what a huge queer following this show has and that's why we got pansexual Tara Lewis in S16 [1]. Which, in itself, was SOOOOOOO important!!! Our first canonically queer main in SIXTEEN seasons was a middle-aged Black woman!!! That's phenomenal. (The fact it was horrible rep, because they instantly ruined her relationships once her queerness served it's plot point is a whole other post entirely)

In my opinion, the 'big Jemily moment' Paget posted about on Twitter [2] (and AJ hinted at during a recent IG live) is simply queerbaiting to get people to watch S17. I know a lot of you are newer to the fandom and I love your enthusiasm, I really do, ship and let ship, but listen, let's be real, Jemily is not going to be made canon. The showrunners aren't going to suddenly say (after 17 seasons) 'Surprise, Jemily is endgame'. This show has never cared about queer rep and now that CBS/Paramount have already ticked their queer rep box with Tara, they won't be in any rush to add any other characters to it.

Please buckle in, I've got a lot of thoughts on this matter --

What is Queerbaiting?

If you aren't aware of what queerbaiting is, here's a good definition:

Historically, queerbaiting has carried two meanings: the first is an act of aggressive heterosexuality to shut down queer subtext on screen while still teasing and catering to the queer audience in advertising, public relations, and fan engagement strategies; the second is an existing homoerotic tension between two characters played up on screen while met with derision by the professionals behind the scenes. [3]

The Medium article quoted here is from 2017, a time when parasocial relationships were really starting to take over social media. In 2024, actors are now only a mention or tag away online, they have direct conversations with fans, and this process has allowed for an even deeper form of queerbaiting.

Oftentimes online, actors are asked directly about certain ships and while some ignore these questions (usually to avoid breaking their contracts or other repercussions), others (looking at you, Paget) choose to instead tease fans about queer ships. She's done this for years upon years and if I've learned anything in the past twenty-years of existing in fandom spaces it's this -- don't hold your breath. In it's original meaning, for something to be deemed as queerbaiting there had to be malicious, or at least, purposeful intent to string queer fans along by teasing them with suggestive content about the ship in question, while knowing this ship will never come to fruition in canon.

The thing to remember is, Paget and AJ aren't the only ones who know about Jemily shippers -- the network and showrunners are well aware of this ship too. When networks/showrunners figure out they have a strong sapphic fanbase, they love to use that to their advantage to get more viewers and higher ratings. Queerbaiting is a goldmine to keep fans watching long running shows, look at Rizzoli and Isles, Supergirl, and OUAT for examples of this.

Jemily and Queerbaiting:

Ever since Emily joined the BAU in S2 (2006), there have always been fans who ship JJ/Emily (shoutout to the old LJ forums!). Way before celebs were just a tweet away from fans, back when all our fics began with disclaimers so we wouldn't get sued by networks, we went to great lengths to keep our fanworks far removed from actors/showrunners attention.

As far as Jemily goes, this reply from Paget in a 2009 interview with TVGuide.com [4] (which has now been deleted from their site unfortunately, but there are quotes on Tumblr still [4.a]) confirmed some fans' worst fear -- the actors had found our fanworks online.

TVGuide.com: Of course, a band of fans want her to hook up with Hotch.

Brewster: I know! I didn't realize that fans make these videos on YouTube? A.J. Cook sent me a hilarious one that made it look like Prentiss and J.J. were having a secret lesbian affair. You know, when Hotch was blown up in the SUV, we shot this scene where he's in the hospital and I'm standing next to him, looking at his bleeding ear. Our director came in and said, "Paget, you're looking at Hotch like you're in love with him. It looks really weird." So now, every day, Thomas [Gibson] and I flutter our eyelids at each other.

This was the first time I recall anyone acknowledging Jemily shippers publicly and at the time (Jan 2009), the show was still in Season Four (just before CBS fired both AJ and Paget [5]). Paget genuinely said it's 'hilarious' that fans shipped JJ/Emily. Even now, I'll see people say 'We know Paget and AJ have seen Jemily fanvids, so they obviously ship it too' -- but those same people rarely acknowledge the full context of the original answer. Paget not only thought JJ/Emily were 'hilarious', but then she doubled down and turned her reply back to how she and Thomas liked to play up the chemistry between Emily/Hotch.

While no one can say for sure which video it was that AJ sent Paget, just knowing they were watching JJ/Emily fanvids sent a bit of a shockwave through the femslash side of the fandom. To some it felt like an invasion of privacy, fanworks are by fans for fans -- knowing the cast were poking around in fandom spaces added an extra layer of worry around what we fans were posting online. Fifteen years ago, it used to be quite taboo for actors to outwardly discuss shipping or other fanon for whatever show they were in, and we fans were usually comfortably removed from the actors altogether.

Of course, now it's the norm for fans and actors/showrunners to co-exist online and interact with one another. This connection has opened new ways for shows to queerbait their fans. Pretty much every show has some form of social media account now and there is no doubt that the people running those accounts keep up with the most popular ships and hashtags. Not to mention that actors are constantly barraged with questions about whether they ship their character with x,y,z, or whether they think a ship should be made canon, etc. These interactions only serve to benefit the shows themselves, because whether the conversation is for or against a certain ship, it's all just free publicity (Why do you think CM now has a TikTok account?)

Every time AJ or Paget say anything about Jemily, the queer side of the fandom loses their minds. But this has been going on for YEARS now and every single time, it turns out to be nothing but social media hype and queerbaiting. Remember this AJ post? [6] Or what about the notorious reply by Paget to a fan, where she talks about how she and AJ held hands under the table 'for the shippers' [7] I've seen this cycle over and over again, so perhaps I am cynical, but I'm not getting my hopes up that Jemily will ever seriously be canon.

It's widely known now, after both Kirsten [8] and Paget [9] have talked about it, that there was an early idea where Prentiss was supposed to be queer, but that was ultimately scraped before it ever made it on screen. For context, please remember, this show has been airing for nearly twenty years. It began in 2005, during the highly conservative Bush administration. Queer people didn't have rights in the US, we couldn't get married, we were rarely protected under discrimination laws, and we could even be fired for simply being queer (in some states). Diverse queer representation on screen was extremely limited to things like 'The L Word' and 'Queer as Folk' (both aired on Showtime, so they were behind a paywall. And as far as tLw goes, that show was extremely male-gaze focused and is horrible in nearly all regards if you try to rewatch it now). As far as prime time shows went, queer rep was even more rare. Which is why Emily wasn't queer from the get-go.

Yes, things have changed since 2006 in terms of queer rep on TV. We have a myriad of queer identities represented in TV and film nowadays, which is why I think it's so easy for newer fans to say 'lf she was supposed to be gay anyway, they should just make Emily queer in canon!' I know this is what fuels most fans' demands for Emily being confirmed queer, and I get it, I DO. I would be all for it! However, I do not, in one hundred years, actually believe that is going to happen after they already canonically queer confirmed Tara in S16. The fact we even got ONE queer character is ground-breaking for this show.

It's also worth noting, that in the time between Paget's departure in 2012 and her return in 2016, she became very active on Twitter. This was when more and more fans began asking her about Jemily and after Kirsten's AfterEllen interview, fans also pushed for Paget to address the possibility of Emily being gay. 'Pushed' is actually an understatement for some of the outright harassment she would receive. (AJ received some of this harassment too, but less so because she doesn't use social media ass often) Back then, neither of them replied to these things directly. Yet, no matter what either woman posted, the replies were full of Jemily stans begging for her acknowledgement. (Did you know 'stan' is literally a term coined for stalker fans?) I remember one time AJ's friend was missing and she posted info on her IG about it, you know what the replies were? People asking her about Jemily. It was genuinely sickening.

Within this context, it was no surprise to fans when Emily came back in S12 , she and JJ's friendship was seemingly erased. The two women were rarely on screen together in the late seasons, plus the writers saw fit to even give Emily not only one (Mark in London, but two, on-screen boyfriends for the first time in the entire series. I personally do not think these changes to Emily's character were coincidence, I saw the hellscape of what people would say to AJ and Paget online and I fully believe that upon Paget's return to the show, the showrunners purposely tried to distance JJ and Emily to dissuade the more abusive side of the fanbase.

Can I prove that, no. But it is the only reason I can think of as to why Emily S12+ seemingly didn't care about JJ anymore, despite their deep and meaningful friendship. I mean, they both CROSSED THE WORLD to go rescue each other in prior canon -- but when Emily comes back, they acted like they barely knew each other. This was even more prevalent in S16, when JJ's main storylines all revolved around Will, and Emily barely looked at JJ in the entirety of ten episodes. (Remember how Prentiss didn't even hug JJ after bomb, but she did go hug Luke?)

So, do Paget and AJ earnestly ship Jemily, or are they continuing the long tradition of queerbaiting us? Who fucking knows, not me. But based on the history of this fandom, I think I can make a safe bet. (Interestingly, if you search all of Paget's twitter for the word 'Jemily' [10] she only has 3 direct tweets mentioning the ship. I don't think it's a coincidence that two are within the past few months since they started filming S17 (the other one was a RT of Kirsten (who tagged something Jemily)

This is all to say --

Just because Paget and AJ have publicly talked about Jemily,, this doesn't mean it's ever going to happen on screen. And you know what, THAT'S OKAY!! There has been this constant outcry (after Tara became queer confirmed) of 'Do Emily next' or 'Why wasn't it Emily with a girlfriend!?' and 'Jemily needs to be canon in S17!' -- as if people believe their ships aren't worth anything unless they are canon.

That couldn't be further from the truth! Fandom is built on headcanons and fan interpretations and rare pairs and all types of shippers. Your ship does NOT need to be canon for you to enjoy it. I will ship Jemily forever, no matter what. I don't think there will be some magical queer plot in S17, at best, we might actually get to see Emily/JJ on screen together again and after the train wreck that was S16 -- I'll take whatever I can get.

And hey -- if I am completely wrong, if Erica Messer pulls a Korrasami out of her hat, I will be ecstatic. I will be happy to be proved wrong, but at the same time, I'm not going to lose sleep over it and I'm DEFINITELY not going to go hound the actors about it on social media.

Sources:

[1] 2022 Digital Spy article about the importance of Tara's coming out

[2] 04/18/24 Paget Tweet

[3] 2017 Queerbaiting article from medium.com

[4] 2009 Broken TVGuide link

[4.a] Tumblr quote from the above TVGuide Interview

[5] 2010 Kirsten interview screenrant.com

[6] 2019 AJ Instagram Post

[7] 2020 Paget video on Twitter (via @karasluthqr)

[8] 2015 Kirsten interview AfterEllen.com

[9] 2016 Paget Interview CriminalMindsFans.com

[10] @PagetPaget search 'Jemily'

[rerarepairmonth]

New Year/New Rarepair

Happy Holidays to everyone in the Resident Evil Fandom! Are you ready for another Resident Evil Rarepair celebration?

In honor of New Year's, we're celebrating with the New Year, New Rarepair event! 12 themed prompts will be provided for participants to choose from to make content for. You can choose to do as many prompts, and as many projects as you please!

We will be accepting the submissions for the finished works during the period of December 25th, 2024, to January 1st, 2025. (Late submissions can still be accepted).

The purpose of this event is to encourage folks to broaden their horizons and discover new rarepairs, and ships they may have not considered before, and to share their love for the lesser known ships out there!

Content can include but not limited to fanfiction, fanart, moodboards, edits, music videos and playlists.

The Prompts will be as follows:

1) "Family" Dinner 2) Promises 3) Overseas 4) Memories 5) Resolutions 6) Out of the Cold 7) Traditions (New and Old) 8) A Kiss 9) Celebrations 10) Food 11) Home/Homecoming 12) New Year, New Life

The rules for entries are as follows:

Must be 18+ to participate, as we will be accepting NSFW entries (make sure to tag appropriately for content warnings)

A rarepair must have 250 or less fics on ao3 to be considered acceptable.

For this event we are excluding any Canon Character x Reader submissions.

We will, however, accept Canon Character x OC submissions.

All content is acceptable, please be courteous of other people's submissions and do not leave hate or discourse in the comments and tags. This is a celebration of rarepairs and encouraging more content for rarepairs in the fandom. If you don't like something someone made, just keep scrolling.

When submitting your content, make sure to tag us @rerarepairmonth and #RENewYearRarepair2024 so we can find your works!!