#I also thought of two different epilogues

[epickiya722]

I already made my predictions here on the epilogue, but I want to focus on the Yuko Ozawa part since I know some shippers are in panic about it.

Everything I'm about to say is from the POV of someone who did read MHA and been though 431 and someone who does ship ItaFushi. Do I think anyone should agree with me? No. But what I hope what I'm about to say at least ease your panic for the time being.

With that out the way!

Now, I'll reiterate from my other post.

If I were to guess what Yuko's part will be about, I think she may meet Yuji again. It makes sense. However, Gege being unpredictable, I feel like he may not go about making it something "romantic".

If anything, I think he may go the route as to what happened with Hana and Megumi. It's not going anywhere.

A piece of me feels like with this epilogue Yuji and Yuko will have a heart to heart, but Yuko comes out having a new revelation about herself which is to love herself.

If there's one thing about some of the female cast of JJK is that they're unapologetic themselves.

Nobara and Maki are the biggest examples of this. Other examples are Yuki and Uro. Yorozu even is an example as she didn't care what people thought of her.

Miwa may have a little ship tease with Muta, but even that doesn't stop her of being herself. When we do get a bit of her "hiding" herself, it wasn't for a boy. It was because her mother told her to dye her hair black (as it is naturally blue).

Maybe Yuko could get that treatment here and that's why she was chosen. To give closure to her character that allows her to move on.

Again, Gege is unpredictable. I have a feeling that the reveals of the epilogue was to give fans a heads-up and... what is the word I want to use... I can't exactly explain it, but maybe make fans feel like they're getting this possible romance as a "red herring" as to hide that "Actually, no, none of that here".

Think about what happened to Hana (who is no different than Yuko) and Megumi. Most of the story, she was spent crushing on Megumi but that went nowhere.

Thinking about it, when it comes to F/M relationships here, it really doesn't go anywhere romantically.

Miwa and Muta? Muta is dead.

Got a bit of ship tease with Yuki and Choso and guess what? They're both dead.

Nobara deadass states she would never date Yuji (and I'm sure this extends to Megumi, too).

Shoko says Hell would freeze over before she fell in love with either Gojo or Geto. And those two are dead and happy together in the afterlife. 👀

As I mentioned Hana's crush on Megumi? Girl, might as well move on.

Utahime straight up doesn't like Gojo and he's dead now.

Yuta had that childhood romance with Rika and she died and whatever he has with Maki isn't really canon. They're just friends.

Yorozu had a thing for Sukuna, but he was not feeling her at all. And they're both dead now, so...??

See the pattern here? Wouldn't it be odd for Gege to give Yuko and Yuji something explicitly romantic when they haven't done much before?

Out of the four characters, Yuko is one of the most background of background characters (I say that will love before someone comes for me). Nobara, Uraume and Panda all have some involvement with the more active parts of the story. Much like Fumi and Saori was to Nobara and Tsumiki is to Megumi, she was a character part of Yuji's story.

However, what did those other characters have that she didn't?

A close relationship. You know who else was like this to Yuji?

Rin Amai. "But Kiya, he didn't--" Ah! Rin was also someone from Yuji's past that also was affected by Yuji's presence in some way. And he managed to get some bit of closure to his character. He gets this in 270. Rin apologizes to the kid he didn't stand up for and allowed bullies to harass. Despite not getting forgiveness, he still was able to apologize, accept what is done and move on.

Yuko may get this. Last time, she didn't tell Yuji her feelings because she didn't want him to like her for her looks. That's a regret and one time about JJK characters is they don't want to live with regrets. With Yuko, she may need to tell Yuji her feelings so that she can move on from that regret and focus on being her most unapologetic self.

I don't know Gege personally, but I do feel that this could be the case and honestly, I do hope that it is. It would be good for her and yeah, I don't really feel threatened by her presence. I'm going to still ship ItaFushi so...

[leothetraveler]

so I had an idea for fanart and ignored college HW to do it. (cause the HW was draining my sanity)

the idea being "the lamb reunites Freddy with frog wife by dragging him to the cult grounds"

it is garbage, but every drawing of mine is. I tried at least. never worked in black&white before. mostly did it to avoid messing with colors for too long. was a nice challenge.

Freddy belongs to my friend, creeperchild. ....so they turned out to be a bad person. I'll leave the art here but...the one who owns the oc here is no longer welcome on my blog.

(sorry to anyone viewing this in the dark)

[shidoukanae]

good afternoon the full posts for these pics are both far down in my queue atm but i wanna post snapshots of these fanart pieces a bit early because i adore how Paris and Helene look!!

I'm still new to this artstyle but gosh am i fangirling for these two!! i dont have the best grasp on their designs but my head is full of thoughts of them, both their manhwa interpretation and their light novel interpretation and im super excited to see how they interact next!!

[saintobio]

blank canvas: the epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

TWO YEARS LATER

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent. 

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course. 

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late. 

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.

[misskamelie]

Brain is going all brrrr now that I've finished No Longer Human by Dazai and I'm ahghhhhhf I need to read an essay on it by someone who actually studied this stuff

[autistichalsin]

Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

[masochistkatsuki]

Team Player - Bakusquad x Reader

Prologue, → Masterlist

Is fucking your entire friend group 'for the team ?' Well.. yea !! It just so happens they're all also stupid hot.

Extra : Should be six parts not including this prologue and an epilogue. Fem reader, Bakugou centered x reader. smut obvi

When your best friend, Mina Ashido, and other close friend, Eijirou Kirishima wont do anything about the sexual tension thats been going on for two years now, your entire friend groups eventually gets fed up.

Being the closest to Mina, the responsibility gets put on you to get them to finally fuck. And pressure is getting higher. Every time they get touchy but act like they aren't during smoke sessions is going to be the last straw to make everyone vomit on them. But knowing Mina, it's at a heinous price. Looks like you'll just have to take one for the team.

You were a well accomplished student, getting accepted into UA at 15 and ranking #2 in the Entrance Exam.

Second only to infamous Katsuki Bakugou, against his will, you forced your way into being one of his early friends at UA, despite his rude personality. I guess being "not super weak like the other extras" had its perks.

The friendships grew quickly, every day the first week a new person would sit with Katsuki. He never thought he'd meet so many people, let alone get used to their company.

"I'm only here to succeed !" He shouted roughly, slightly spitting, one day at the usual table during your first year. Your main group, Sero, Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Kirishima, just kinda sighed with a smile and accepted his attitude. You, however, perked up and laughed back at him.

"By the end of our Hero Training," You looked up towards Katsuki, "You're going to say 'we're here to succeed !"

Though he laughed at it at the time, calling you corny, here you all were. Throughout all the shit UA put you all through, work studies, fucking wara, and literally living together, the 'Bakusquad' was beyond a doubt one of the strongest friends groups in the entire Academy. In terms of physical abilities, and emotional connection alike.

And tonight, you were all going to succeed at getting into a real club for the first time.

"You want me to WHAT ?" You sat dumbfounded, in front of Minas holywood lighted mirror. You were doing your lipgloss, ready for the nerve wracking night out, when she finally gave in to your demand of two years.

You see, now being in your third year at UA, watching Mina and Kirishima steal glances at eachother, brushing hands while walking, falling asleep on each other, eye fucking at every party, posting eachother constantly, always flirting, drunk kissing once during spin the bottle and suddenly only making eye contact with the others lips.. your entire friend group just needed them to fuck and shut up about it already.

Sero and Denki had already been begging you to do something about it since the beginning of your second year, and Jirou got fed up with it completely by the end of the same one. Katsuki was a different story, never seeming to comment on or even notice anything romantic. He just was rude and yelled regardless of feelings. Honestly, it impressed you how he could insult Kirishima on his hair, teeth, eyes, the way he pronounces "cinnamon", and more before calling out the boner in his sweats.

"Thats right !" She giggled, dancing a little out of pure joy. What a sadist. "I want you to fuck everyone else in our friend group first !! ☆" You sighed, clearly not understanding what the point in this was. "Besides, I need to know if Kiris any good !"

Your hand smudged the pink tinted gloss across your cheek after you gasped and jumped in your (her) chair. " Eww !! Kirishima too ?There's really no way you want me to do that.. right ?" You nervously laughed at Mina, who'd only practiced and honed her abilities to put people in the most drama-inducing, best story to tell in 20 years situations. Her smile was not the usual joking one you knew.

Class 3-A, especially her closest friends, knew better than anyone that once Mina Ashido set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. Obviously, if you didn't want to, you knew you didnt have to and that she wouldn't force you. The issue you is..

A) You have NO idea when she'll have an offer like this again.

B) You aren't thaaaaat against the idea....

"Cmon.. were all super close ! Besides, youre hella fuckin hot ! And I knew you thought Kiri was back in our first year tooooo" She got close to you, winking in your face, emphasizing her point.

"But.. we're all just friends.. and that was freshman year, hes yours girl. Besides, none of them would go that far with me, right ?" You nervously held back sweat, truly youd only embarrass yourself by attempting this.

"Youre soooo oblivious ! One night before I have him locked away isnt the end of the world" Mina cried out, though you couldn't help laugh at the humor. She threw her leg over yours and looked down at you. "Want me to prove it to you ? Prove that everyone in that group chat wouldn't think twice about taking you ?"

"Thats different," You pouted, pulling her further onto your lap. "We've made out a million times already, and we're both girls.."

She used her palms to tilt your head up slightly, her black and yellow eyes gleaming mischievously into yours. "Jirous a girl."

"Me and Jirou have also made out a million times.. she also doesn't count.." She rocked her hips against yours, rubbing her clit right just above yours. "Mina.." You whined. "Just because we have chemistry doesn't mean me and the others will."

She hummed, "Are you really best friends if you don't have sexual chemistry ?", finally pressing herself hard against your clothed clit finally. The pressure felt nice, a perfect, pleasurable feeling in contrast to the heavy task at hand. "Let me calm you down, and besides I know some stuff that might help." She pressed a kiss to your cheek, running her hands up your back. Anything to keep the smoke sesh's pg-13 I guess. You gave her upper thighs a soft squeeze, setting the tone and pushing her on slightly.

"The boys have said quite a few flattering things about you.." She peppered soft kisses on the corner of your mouth, you closed your eyes, letting the velvety pushes flutter down your jaw. "Oh, and you already know Jirous lesbian ass has said the worst stuff.." Her lips mumbled against your neck. Hmm. Well an ego boost never hurts either.. You're especially curious if Katsuki - Idontdoromance - Bakugou has said anything about you.. Fuck it.

PT 2 COMING SOON !

[triptychgardener]

i saw you mentioned that transfem!calliope was practically canon, could you maybe elaborate on that? (im not dissing your hcs btw im just confused on where its suggested in canon)

Hey so it took me a while to get to this just because I wanted to solidify some thoughts about it! Won't go into as much detail wrt my other posts, but we can at the very least start with her handle: uranianUmbra

Uranian is an old-fashioned term, generally used for gay men, though also used in different ways to describe other-gendered people or ways of being, occasionally used as a catch-all similar to how Queer is used today. Its history is complicated and occasionally uncomfortable, as a lot of queer history can be, but notably, one potential root of this idea came from Urning

Now obviously conceptions of gender and sexuality were a lot different then, and I don't want to simplify this, but in Homestuck, it's pretty undeniable that Calliope is a woman stuck in a man's body, and this is likely why Hussie used that very specific word in the first place: to foreshadow the eventual Cherubian Twist.

And not that framing: a woman trapped in a man's body. Cherubs (at least as we are told) have two equal halves who can predominate. But the framing of their entire dynamic makes it very clear that this is Caliborn's body, not Calliope.

Callie's ideal self, in Callie Ohpeee, her Trollsona, is positioned as something to be taken off to reveal her true self. She feels that she needs to conform her exterior to match her interior self, something Caliborn never has to do.

Hell, even as she goes to sleep for the last time, she removes her jacket to reveal Caliborn's shirt underneath. It's his body, not hers.

Not only that, but throughout the story, we see that Callie experiences something close to either dysphoria or body dysmorphia. She hates the way she looks, and affects an especially sweet demeanor in order to not scare people away. She sees herself as a monster because her body becomes the most hideous masculine monster the story has ever known! Literally Lord English.

And shockingly, even though it (in my opinion) handles it poorly, the Epilogues do give us a brief insight into cherub gender, where it basically illuminates that Aranea was kind of talking out of her ass about cherub reproduction, and that Cherubs have no actual biological sex or gender. Meaning that somewhere along the way, Caliborn and Calliope CHOSE their genders, likely influenced by the human and troll internet they were permitted. Callie perhaps forming her own gender in opposition to her brother. This also probably created the ouroboros through which gender became a thing in the first place but thats besides the point. Point is, Callie was likely not a woman until she chose to be a woman. I.e. transgender.

Now the epilogues took it in what I find to be a kind of boring direction, i.e. "well cherubs have no real biological sex so that means I have to be nonbinary now" which is just such a lukewarm take on the imposition of gender but whatever. Point is that Callie is transgender end of story goodnight!!!!!

[buttercupshands]

Had a random thought of sketching some of the save files of isat I had after completing the game

Each one actually had a specific role, place and dialogues checked

It's also the achievement runs I had

Some closeups of the ones I liked

Runs for two hats achievement specifically one before the fight and one after, Twin Siffrins! Because the saves look exactly the save if you don't know them

Two different epilogue saves one before 100% and one after

A normal Act 4 ending save but with Siffrin being the same Siffrin from OP save

OP achievement save Siffrin one fight and Mirabelle is at max level

Original "main" save of the folder before dagger save replaced them. First time I saved a game twice and left save 1 as it was.

Dagger save for all it's worth is actually harmless created from ng+ to get all Loop dialogues

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up. 

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well? 

DINGUS: so it seemed. 

ARGYLE  😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour. 

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe. 

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance? 

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next? 

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve. 

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first. 

He’s making no move to get up off the floor. 

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.” 

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through. 

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious. 

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you. 

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion. 

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?” 

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.” 

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything. 

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.” 

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.” 

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours. 

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.” 

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms. 

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush? 

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively. 

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.” 

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.” 

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit. 

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?” 

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better. 

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.” 

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.” 

“Then consider this your notice.” 

Is this what I had always been missing out on? 

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning. 

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?” 

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.” 

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.” 

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you. 

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there. 

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home. 

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really. 

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions. 

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation. 

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.” 

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?” 

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?” 

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?” 

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.” 

“What have you guys been doing?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.” 

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?” 

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says. 

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.” 

“Am I?” 

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder. 

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.” 

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“ 

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.” 

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.” 

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.” 

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet. 

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.” 

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket. 

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.” 

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over. 

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now. 

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around. 

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.” 

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night. 

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly. 

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center. 

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well. 

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it. 

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches. 

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now. 

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now. 

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.” 

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.” 

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.” 

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?” 

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t. 

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing. 

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it. 

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to. 

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave. 

Eddie’s quick to follow. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure. 

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C. 

Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

But it sure does feel like it. 

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave. 

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you. 

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?” 

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?” 

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck. 

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.” 

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you. 

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

Time. You two needed time apart. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” 

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet. 

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away. 

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful. 

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went. 

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart. 

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.” 

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat. 

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind? 

That wasn’t really complicated. 

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.” 

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes. 

You wish you would have kissed him. 

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-” 

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend. 

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours. 

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be. 

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems. 

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted. 

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you. 

Rough’s a good way to put it. 

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it. 

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend. 

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy. 

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress. 

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie. 

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along. 

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless. 

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration. 

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again. 

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two.  And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s. 

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two. 

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him. 

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time. 

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to. 

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears. 

EDDIE: Make it home okay? 

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now. 

YOU: yep. my roommate just left. 

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember? 

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud. 

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone. 

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams. 

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care. 

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened. 

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now. 

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds. 

EDDIE: Ah. I see. 

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over? 

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems. 

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down. 

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours. 

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos. 

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you. 

YOU: About what? 

EDDIE: I’m not home right now. 

Your heart clenches. 

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not. 

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere. 

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is. 

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step. 

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you. 

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues. 

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist. 

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.” 

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter. 

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool. 

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?” 

“Start over?” you question wearily. 

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.” 

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves. 

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.” 

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.” 

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you. 

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss. 

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?” 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” 

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home. 

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.” 

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

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[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 20

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: you go back to school early to attend a new year’s eve party.

word count: 3.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the last chapter!!! screaming crying throwing up fr. i’ll definitely post an epilogue though, and maybe some other short drabbles because i’m gonna miss them :// i also wanna thank everyone who reads this fic, i appreciate it so much!!! anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: a hint of smut, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

Two long weeks later, it’s finally time for you and Evan to go back to school. You continued to sneak into Evan’s room each night, and had managed not to get caught each time his hands started to wander, innocent touches becoming something entirely different.

While you did tease him about keeping his hands to himself the first night, you were a little surprised when his hands traveled down your soft tummy and traced the waistband of your panties. You almost stopped him; the fear of getting caught clear in your mind, but your words were cut short when his hand dipped under the fabric and ghosted over your clit. His lips were on yours before you could make a sound, and when he finally pushed his cock into your dripping cunt, his lips were replaced with his hand as he whispered how good you were being into your ear.

This morning is no different. You wake up early; earlier than either of your parents, Evan’s bare chest against your back warming you up immensely.

“Are you sad to be leaving?” he whispers, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck. You hum softly, shrugging as you think about it. You turn in his grip before you answer, unable to fight back a smile as Evan’s face studies yours with a lovesick expression.

“I love my parents, but I think I get along with them better when we’re apart. Spending some time with them is nice, but I’m glad I’m not living here all the time.” you tell him in the same hushed tone. He nods, seeming to understand where you’re coming from. When he’s at school, sometimes his parents call to catch up, and he can almost pretend that he’s close with his parents when that happens.

“I’m glad. Because now we can go to the New Year’s party at Delta Phi.” he says in a teasing tone. You roll your eyes, laughing softly. He practically begged you to leave a couple of days early so you’d be back for the party once he found out that the theme of the party was to celebrate the university’s sports teams. “Now I can see you in my jersey again. Like old times.” is how he put it when he asked, and you couldn’t say no.

It had been a while since you were able to wear his jersey, and the last time you had, he ended up in the hospital, so a part of you was eager to get some better memories of wearing it.

“You really do like to party, don’t you?” you tease, laughing as he scoffs.

“Come on, they’re fun. You can’t tell me you didn’t like the parties I brought you to, other than the first one.” he says, his jaw clenching when he speaks about the first party you went to a party with him. He still has to see Jared at practice, but for the most part, Jared tries to steer clear of him, and he’s thankful. As much as he wants to fucking kill him for what he did, he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Alright, they’re not as bad as I thought they’d be. But that doesn’t mean I’d pick going to a party over, like, a movie night. But I like when you get all protective.” you tease, leaning in to kiss him softly. You can feel his fist clenching at your side, where he was holding your hip, and you know what he’s thinking about. You’ve stuck close to Evan at every party since then, and he always has to have a hand on you. Either an arm around your shoulder, or his hand in yours, or on the small of your back. He won’t let you leave his sight.

“Gotta protect my girl. Always.” he tells you earnestly, his hand unclenching as he lets out a breath. He knows he’s more upset about the situation than you are, even though it happened to you, but he can’t help it. He still feels a little guilty for even losing you in the first place.

“And you always do. From people and from the dark.” you tease, and he chuckles. Then in an instant, he moves to pin you to the bed, his body positioning itself between your legs, making you squeal softly in surprise as you giggle. He shushes you softly, lowering his face to the crook of your neck as his hands pin your wrists to the bed beside your head.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. I’ve gotten through two weeks without your dad hating my guts. Can’t start now.” he murmurs against your neck before beginning to trail kisses across your skin. You bite your lip as you tilt your head back, reveling in the feeling of his lips on you. Truth be told, your mom has caught you a couple of times in his room, not that either of you have been awake to notice. She stands near the door with a smile on her face each time, seeing you cuddled up together. She thinks it’s sweet, and she’d never tell your dad, anyway. This is not one of those mornings, evidently.

“We can’t have that.” you whisper, meeting his gaze as he pulls away from your neck. He smirks, moving your wrists up above your head and grabbing them with one hand, then his other moves down to push your shirt up over your plush tummy and chest.

Once your shirt is bunched up above your tits, his eyes trail down your body as he licks his lips. He’s so glad you only ever sleep with an oversized shirt and panties, like you’re just begging him to take care of you.

He leans down and gives you a short, but passionate, kiss, then moves down to your neck again. You bite your lip as his kisses move further down your neck, and he moves his face away for just long enough to move below your shirt, then begins to kiss down the valley of your breasts to your round tummy. He hums softly as he presses featherlight kisses to the skin littered with stretch marks, nipping and sucking softly as he goes.

He loves marking your tummy; he loves seeing the marks that are for his eyes only, and he likes the way it makes you squirm, but he also loves it seems to make you feel more confident. He loves your soft belly, and he’ll keep leaving marks across it until you love it completely, too.

His hands move down to your hips, grabbing and harshly pulling your panties down your legs with a low grunt, now leaning back on his knees to look at all of you.

“God, I love you.” he whispers once you’re left in nothing but your bunched up shirt, his fingers moving up your inner thighs.

You inhale a shaky breath as he leans down until his face is directly in front of your core. He smirks as he keeps eye contact with you, and the last thing he says before his tongue makes contact with your slick folds is “My gorgeous girl. I’m gonna ruin you.”

You get back to your apartment at around 6, which is still much earlier than when you have to go to the party, but after waking up early and driving all day, you feel like you need a nap before you get ready. Buck dropped you off, and after insisting on carrying your bags up for you, he gave you a sweet kiss and told you he’d be back around 10:00 before he went back to his place.

Your eyelids flutter open an hour or so later, and since you showered this morning, and you know you’ll probably get some form of alcohol spilled on you tonight, you don’t bother showering. Since you now have some time before Evan picks you up, you drag yourself out of bed and into the living room, flopping down onto the couch your roommate isn’t currently sprawled out on.

“How was your break?” she asks innocently, although her expression is anything but. She knows you brought Evan to meet your parents, and she has been patiently waiting since you left for any little detail of your visit. You didn’t want to tell her over text, so you kept telling her you’d update her when you got back. And since she got back four days before you did, she had begged you to tell her, claiming she was too bored and lonely all alone to wait.

“Well, my dad doesn’t hate him.” you tell her with a smile. She laughs, rolling onto her side to face you with a smirk.

“Tell me everything right now.” she urges, and you roll your eyes. She watches you intently as you begin to tell her, leaving out the parts about you sneaking into his bed every night, for the most part.

Just like promised, Evan buzzes your apartment intercom at 10pm, and your roommate lets him in, as you’re still finishing up your makeup. It’s nothing crazy, just some mascara and lip gloss, but you waited a little too long before you started to get ready; instead spending your time catching up with your roommate.

He walks into the bathroom, eyes trailing down your figure as you bend over the counter to touch up your lip gloss. You’re wearing your favourite pair of jeans and a white long sleeve shirt, knowing you’ll get cold in just Evan’s jersey on the walk to and from the party. You jump slightly in surprise as Evan lets out a low whistle, turning to see him leaning in the doorway. He’s wearing a white hoodie under his own jersey, and you can’t help your eyes traveling down to his broad chest. God, how did you get so lucky?

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks in a teasing tone, closing the distance between you and dropping your jersey onto the counter before he pulls your hips against his. He meets your lips in a kiss, and you whine softly as you pull back, frowning.

“I just put on lip gloss.” you say, fighting back a smile as you look up at his lips, now shiny and glittery. You reach up and wipe it off with your thumb, and he chuckles softly once you pull your hand away.

“And you can put on some more. I wanna kiss you.” he tells you sternly, then leans in for another kiss.

“Your teammates are gonna make fun of you if you keep doing that. You’re gonna walk into the party with lip gloss all over your face.” you tease once you lean back again, but letting him kiss you for longer this time. You wipe off the lip gloss again, then push him away by putting your hands on his chest. He rolls his eyes, but lets you push him back, then watches you intently as you turn back to the mirror and fix your makeup.

Once you’re finished, you grab the jersey off the counter and throw it on, tucking one side into your jeans so it doesn’t look so awkwardly long.

“You ready, princess?” he asks once you turn to face him. You smile, nodding as you grab his hand and maneuver around him to lead him out of the bathroom. You meet your roommate near the door, ready to walk over with both of them. She’s going to the party anyway, and you’d rather her walk with you and Evan than walk over alone, even if she’s meeting some of her other friends there.

It’s a quick walk over, as your roommate is already a little drunk, and cannot seem to keep her mouth shut. You walk hand in hand with Evan as she walks in front of you, barely even paying attention as she rants on and on about the party.

“Is she gonna be okay once we get there? I kinda don’t want to leave her alone.” Evan whispers to you as she keeps talking. You look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You know he’s protective of you, but him being protective of your friend as well makes your heartbeat quicken.

“She’s meeting a few friends there; she should be fine. One of them is staying sober too, so she can keep an eye on her.” you tell him, and he nods slowly. Although this calms him, he still feels a little nervous about it.

“And, her friend’s boyfriend is on the lacrosse team. He said he’d keep an eye on them.” you tell him, and he nods, letting out a breath. That makes him feel a lot better.

“Yeah! He’s gonna set me up with a hot lacrosse player! It’s a sports party, and I don’t have a jersey. Gotta get one somewhere.” your roommate tells you as she turns her head to look over her shoulder at you two. You both let out laughs as she smirks and raises her brows a few times.

“I have faith in you.” Evan responds, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. You watch as she turns on her heel and walks up to him, forcing you both to stop in your tracks. She raises a hand and puts it on his shoulder, looking up at him with a serious expression.

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” she says, swaying gently side to side. Evan furrows his brows as he lets out a confused laugh while you laugh loudly. Her head snaps to you as you laugh, then takes her hand off of Evan’s shoulder and puts it on yours.

“You’re so lucky you already have a jersey. I love you guys.” she tells you, then throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You stumble back, shaking your head as you wrap your arms around her torso, hugging her back.

“Alright, let’s go get you that jersey.” Evan says in a teasing tone, making eye contact with you over your roommate’s shoulder. He winks at you as she finally pulls away, mumbling a quiet “good idea” as she turns and starts walking towards the party again.

The party is in full swing once you drop your roommate off with her friends and Evan says hi to a bunch of his teammates throughout the party. You’re staying close to Evan, getting jostled around as people sway to the music and shove their way through the crowd around you. He keeps his arm firmly wrapped around your shoulder, only letting you go when he grabs both of you a beer. You aren’t a huge fan of the taste, but you take it with a smile, figuring that you’d rather be a little buzzed and deal with the taste than have to endure the lights and noise around you sober.

Just like clockwork, Evan starts to get more handsy when he’s a few drinks in, keeping his front pressed against your back as he holds you close to him. His arms are firmly wrapped around your waist, and his chin is resting on your shoulder as he sways you back and forth with the music.

“Have I told you how good you look in my jersey?” he says in your ear, practically having to yell in order for you to hear him over the music. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. You’ve had a few drinks, but you’re nowhere near drunk, not as drunk as him, and his clinginess makes your face heat up.

“Yeah, a couple times.” you respond in a teasing tone, turning in his grip to angle your face towards his. He grins, then leans down and gives you a sloppy kiss on your neck, mumbling a “good” as he does. You tilt your head to the side as he kisses you, grinning as you shake your head.

You continue to dance with him until it’s almost midnight, and you only stop when the party around you starts to feel even more chaotic, if at all possible. You turn in Evan’s grip, wrapping your arms around his neck once you’re face to face with him.

“Hi, baby.” he says over the music, and you giggle softly.

“Hi, my love. It’s almost midnight.” you reply, tilting your head to the side as he continues to sway you both back and forth.

“Yeah? What’s that thing people usually do at midnight, again?” he asks in a slightly teasing tone, then gives you a wink. You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

“I’m not sure, why?” you tease back, laughing more when he scoffs.

“I’m gonna kiss you so hard.” he says with a cocky tone, smirking. You rest your forehead on his chest as you laugh, closing your eyes. He’s such a dork when he gets like this, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Whatever you say, baby.” you tell him once you look up at him again, a smile spreading across your face. He’s about to reply when everyone begins to countdown, and he grins, moving one hand up to your jaw, tilting your head up further.

“I love you.” he whispers right as the clock strikes midnight, and then he meets your lips in a searing kiss. You smile against his lips, hands gripping the front of his jersey as you rise onto your toes, momentarily forgetting that you’re in a room full of people, not that anyone notices, or cares.

You keep one arm around his torso as you both walk up the walkway to his house, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leans against you. You fish his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door, which proves difficult as Buck leans against you from behind, hands and lips attached to you, and finally get him to his room. You push him back onto the bed, and he falls back with a low grunt, then smirks as he sits up on his elbows.

“I like where this is going.” he says, licking his lips as he eyes your soft figure. You roll your eyes, then walk over to the edge of the bed, urging him to sit up. You pull his jersey and hoodie over his head in one go, and he raises his arms to help you as you do. You then grab his hands and pull him to stand in front of you, telling him to take off his pants so he can change into sweats to go to bed.

“What are you doing to me? I am not that kind of girl.” he tells you sternly, but his hands move to make quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans. You giggle, watching him pull his pants down and then lay down to let you pull them off of him completely.

“No? Not even for me?” you ask in a sweet voice, a smirk on your face. He shrugs, pursing his lips as he studies your face, then after a moment, a smile erupts on his face.

“Alright. Maybe for you.” he murmurs. You hum softly, then grab a pair of his sweatpants from his closet and toss them at him. He puts them on haphazardly, then stands up and reaches for the hem of the jersey across your chest. “Your turn.” he mumbles as he begins to pull your jersey and your long sleeve shirt up and over your head.

Once your shirts are off, his hands move to your jeans, tugging them down. He watches as you step out of them, and then he grabs your jersey off the bed and puts it back on over your head, humming softly as it falls down your body.

“Perfect.” he murmurs, then cups your cheeks with his hands and kisses you sloppily. You kiss him back, hands resting on his chest as you part your lips, and he eagerily pushes his tongue into your mouth. Once his hands start to wander, grabbing your ass and pushing you against him, you break the kiss, looking up at his puffy lips and blown pupils.

You push him away, muttering a soft “lets go to bed.” He exhales a loud sigh, but obliges, laying down on his back on the bed, and holding his hand out for you to take. You grab it and let him pull you down onto him, resting your cheek against his chest. Once you’re comfortably laying on him, and your leg is thrown over his legs, he sighs in contentment.

“I think I’m gonna keep you forever.” he drawls, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy as he feels his body sinking into the bed and his sheets enveloping him in warmth. You smile, humming softly.

“You better.” you whisper, and he squeezes your thigh softly in response. You can hear his breathing becoming more steady, and you can tell he’s almost asleep, but you speak once more before he falls asleep.

“I love you.” you whisper.

“You know I love you, princess.” he mumbles before sleep finally overcomes him.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[mosaickiwi]

Hi again! Hope you've been doing okay!

First off I just wanna say that you always deliver, I mean "Fall Unto Me"?? Four part+an epilogue of me being torn between wanting to baul my eyes out and wanting to melt into a puddle from the feels :')

But as for the request, could I ask for Angel and [REDACTED] redecorating his appartment? Getting rid of the gaudy furniture once and for all!

Don't forget to drink water and take breaks whenever you need to! My brain is also 105% filled with this skrunkly but the trick is to keep two neurons in a cell reserved for this >:] /silly

HEHE I’ve been ok! Hope you are too!! <3 thank u for appreciating my (deranged) brainrotting fic c: the suffering is my favorite part. I’m drinking lots of water cause summer hates my ass. 💖 Also sorry this is long I am clearly not winning at the "be normal" challenge.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Redecorating

“This one?”

The dark haired man peered at the laptop in your hands for a long moment. “It's… nice.”

“Yes…? You called the last three couches nice, too. Any other thoughts?” You gently goaded your partner.

Choosing new furniture with [REDACTED] was supposed to be easy. You'd pick something, and he'd agree. Except you wanted it to feel like home for both of you. He didn't have to say the mushy, obvious line: as long as you were there, it was home. So progress was challenging with some things. You were sitting together on the current couch—the ugly, lifeless one that came with his apartment for some reason. 

His brow crinkled as he searched for different words. Those soft blue eyes went back and forth across the screen until he said, “It’s cozy yet functional.”

“Did you just summarize the description to me?”

He confessed to the crime with a sigh. “Angel, all I think when I look at it is you. And how cute you'd look sitting on it. Like y’do right now.”

“I'm always cute. Focus on the couch, please. Not me,” you insisted.

“No promises.”

“Let's see…” You had to find some way to get through to them. An idea came to mind that you knew he wouldn't like very much, but you had to try. “Pretend we're not dating. Or maybe I don't exist? You come home—don't make that face! I said pretend—so, you come home after a very terrible day and you see this couch. Is it nice then?”

[REDACTED] still made that face as he answered you. “Annoying as fuck to clean.”

It was progress. You didn't want to dwell on why that would be what they thought about after getting home. “Did the first one I showed you seem annoying to clean?”

“Mm... a bit.” They reached forward to change the webpage back for another look. “Y’never showed me these.” 

You leaned over to see what he was talking about. There were a few humongous bean bag chairs on the furniture wish list you’d made. “I just thought they looked fun to take a nap in. But I’m not sure we’d both fit, so it’d be silly," you explained and tapped the mouse to continue skimming through your other selections. “We can think about the couch later. I found some wall art that doesn’t look like it came from a dentist’s office.”

His eyes carefully followed the scrolling page until the bean bags disappeared at the bottom of the screen, but he didn’t protest.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

The new furniture had arrived—and been efficiently assembled by your boyfriend, despite your protest—while you were at the library, so you were excited to get home. [REDACTED] held one hand over your eyes as he unlocked the apartment’s door.

“I already know what all the furniture looks like, Ren.” Even so, you didn’t wave their hand away.

You could hear the door click as he guided you into the foyer. “I may have added a few extra things,” he hummed while you blindly struggled and failed to take off your shoes. “Actually… close your eyes f’me.”

“O—kayy?!” Just as you closed your eyes the floor slipped away under you, replaced by familiar arms cradling you to their chest. His quiet footsteps barely echoed against the marble as you got your wits about you. The living room wasn’t that far, so you were certain where he took you without seeing anything. You just didn’t know where exactly in the room.

They turned and came to a stop, rooted in place for a moment as if thinking to themself. “Y’gonna scream if I drop you?” 

“...Yes. Maybe.”

Without another word he let go. There wasn’t enough time to scream as you immediately landed against plush fabric with the faint crinkle of something below it. The fabric crinkled some more as you felt your shoes being taken off.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” you asked. You could already tell what one of the ‘extra things’ was. It felt like heaven.

“Sure, love.” Their voice was a little farther away than you expected. Probably from hurrying to put your shoes in the closet.

You found yourself nestled on one side of the room, with a perfect view of his handiwork.

A couch that was easy to clean, in a color you insisted he decide on, draped with a luxurious looking blanket that wasn’t in your list. A coffee table with rounded corners so they wouldn’t keep hitting their leg on it. Some wall art of Attack on Giants—with extra pieces from a show you sort of recognized, but definitely suited the man's tastes. A few shelves to show off merchandise from another of your favorites. And the enormous, navy blue bean bag he’d so rudely dropped you in moments ago.

Your darling hacker stepped in from the foyer and tossed their hoodie onto the new couch. “Everything good?” he asked, piercings pulling up in a smile.

“I think I love it.” Your eyes scanned the room again and eventually landed on the pictures. “And I love that you added your own stuff.” It didn’t seem to be a clone of your apartment that he just happened to live in, like you worried about. “What about you?”

“S’better than before. ‘Course, the best part is that I don’t have t’see some shitty couch when I open the door—I get to come home to you, trapped in a bean bag.” He stood up and walked over, eyeing you playfully from above. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, then immediately yelped when he fell forwards. Just before you were squished, he caught himself on tattooed arms, caging you in the crinkly, soft material. You only felt some of their weight on you like a heavy blanket. A soft laugh slipped past your lips as he got comfortable himself, clinging to you as best he could while you both sank further into the depths of the bean bag. It’d be impossible to get out.

You wiggled your legs, straining to even find the damn floor. No doubt a futile effort, you had to sigh, “At least we both fit on it."

[REDACTED] didn’t speak, already yawning from the exhaustion of setting everything up before meeting you at work. The walk to and from the library certainly didn’t do him any favors, either. In a matter of seconds, he was fast asleep in what surely felt akin to a nest, all four lanky limbs wrapped around you like a snake.

[guiltyasdave]

say you'll see me again

epilogue • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 789 (it's a smol one)

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics (in the past), daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, angst, but also... nice things :)

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

this is me officially saying goodbye to these two babies and i'm extremely emotional about it. i loooooved writing this story, it has brought me so much joy, it's my favorite thing that i've created and they really mean the world to me.

this story has received so much love and i'm beyond grateful for everyone who has read, liked, commented or reblogged <3 i hope you like this ending as much as i do.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

No one’s there to cheer you on at your graduation ceremony, no one to sit in the audience and clap when your name is being called and you walk across the stage. You didn’t invite anyone. 

A small part of you, the part that still feels like the 12 year old girl who thought that her father would love her if she only tried hard enough, had hoped that somehow he would know anyway. Would show up to surprise you. 

It’s less of a surprise that he didn’t. 

When you accept the certificate with your name on it, it gives you a grim sense of satisfaction. You’ve done it on your own. On your own terms, with your own money.

Your father had all but thrown you out of the house after seeing you leave on the security camera footage mere hours after he’d declared that you were grounded. It’s been a challenge, adjusting to the lack of his financial aid, getting by entirely on your own. It also felt like freedom, like you were finally able to breathe. 

You swallow down the bitterness that stings in your chest and rises up your throat when you watch your classmates, your friends, surrounded by their families. Proud smiles, hands on shoulders, long hugs. Fueling a longing that’s been there for as long as you can remember. It wouldn’t have been like that with your father anyway. 

You’re better off like this, with the person who, despite his insistent claims, is the one who actually brought you to this moment: Yourself. 

The buildings of the town you were raised in are surrounding you, a familiar backdrop as you make your way down the street. You don’t know why you felt the need to come here. Maybe you had to visit one last time, after leaving in a panicked rush, too hurt to dare to look back. Maybe you can say goodbye now, and your mind will stop torturing you with questions of what could have been, daydreams of scenarios that you wished had turned out differently. Maybe you can clear out the remains of the battlefield that it turned into, and finally make peace with it. 

You had wished to be able to hate David. Hate him for not wanting you, hate him for pushing you away. Hate him for the way he changed you, for showing you a connection that you haven’t been able to feel with anyone else. But you never could. 

It’s not hard to understand in hindsight, why making you leave seemed like the right thing to do for him. Looking back, you think that it actually was. Though that never made losing him hurt any less. 

If anything, you wish you could hate him because the fact that he did the right thing makes you want him more. 

The door shuts behind you and your eyes adjust to the dim light of the bar. Your shoes are sticky against the ground. It’s a far cry from the country club you used to go to. But you’re also a far cry from the girl who used to go there. No black little designer dress on your body, no expensive heels clicking against the floor. And no fear. No fear of being ignored, no fear of being talked down to, no fear of having to make yourself small. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

You walk towards the counter, hop up on one of the stools. It scratches against the wooden floor, mixing with the faint sound of rock music playing from a speaker in the corner. 

There’s movement beside you, the silhouette of a man caught in the corner of your eye. The drum of his fingertips against the counter. 

“Evening.” 

The wave of a memory builds up in your mind within moments, flooding your every thought. The smooth rumble of his voice. The shape of his face when you turn towards him. The strong nose, the hard line of his jaw, the permanent pout on his lips that you can still feel against yours when you try really hard to remember. The deep brown shade of his eyes that still means safety to you. 

When thinking about him, you had always pictured him somewhere new, somewhere you couldn’t reach him. It seems silly, now that he’s right here, like a piece falling into place. Of course he’s here.

Your lips pull up into a smile. No shyness, no worries of doing something that you shouldn’t. 

“Hi.”

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” he echoes back the first words you’ve ever spoken to him. He remembers, just like you. Just like he said he would. Your smile grows wider. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

...i'm trying really hard not to cry right now. if you enjoyed this, please consider letting me know <3

[crappymixtape]

because of you • epilogue

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 1k – a little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • E P I L O G U E 🎶 believer – piano version, SYML

❝ WE’VE BECOME ECHOES, BUT ECHOES ARE FADING AWAY, SO LET’S DANCE LIKE TWO SHADOWS, BURNING OUT A GLORY DAY ❞

Walking across the parking lot of Hawkins High with Steve Harrington’s hand in the back pocket of your jeans was a surreal feeling. Never in a million years did you think you’d be on speaking terms with him let alone dating him. You also didn’t think the world would end, so maybe being wrong was something to get used to.

Steve had a bag of clothes under one arm while you pulled a wagon of canned food and blankets behind you. It seemed like everyone was in need of something – shirts, coats, shoes, bread, cheese, shelter – and despite the way everyone had rallied against Eddie, they changed their tune quick after the news broke. Came together as a community to support each other through these unprecedented events.

The story came out that it had been a serial killer who’d murdered those poor kids, not Eddie, and it was all forgotten anyway the minute your little town suddenly turned into a war zone. Helicopters and tanks and soldiers, scientists and news crews from all over the nation. The ash hadn’t stopped falling since the Creel House and in the daylight the damage was so much worse than any of you had expected.

When Steve drove you home, it just simply wasn’t there. Swallowed up in one of four deep gashes splitting the earth at the seams. Your parents had survived, came back to see if maybe you’d go home to find them and tried to salvage whatever they could.

They’d sought shelter with your aunt on the other side of town, but Steve insisted you stay with him. Told you you’d have your own room and space and whatever you needed and when you expected a no, your parents surprised you with a yes, with relief. It was tight enough over at your aunt’s as it was and maybe it was better that way. With a friend – friend.

“Donations?” a volunteer asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“What?” you started, but Steve held up his bag.

“Yeah, yeah. Clothes, food, some blankets.”

“Great, that’s perfect. Clothes are on the tables at the far end of the cafeteria, food is being collected here in the quad and blankets go to the library,” the volunteer said and Steve thanked her with a small smile.

Even though you were bringing things to donate, it was a weird feeling knowing you’d likely be looking for things for you too. You wondered about everyone else. Wondered if they had lost everything too and hoped they hadn’t. Hoped they were all safe. The Wheelers, the Sinclairs, Max and Robin and Eddie–

“Holy shit–no way! Sweetheart, who’s that in your back pocket??”

As if summoned by your very thoughts, Eddie materialized at the bottom of the parking lot turning your cheeks cherry red, Steve’s hand still tucked into your jeans.

He gave Eddie a big grin and dipped down to press a kiss to your temple, “Shut up, Munson.”

“It’s Steve you idiot,” you snarked, lips tugged up in a little smile, no heat behind it and as soon as you passed the wagon off to a volunteer, your best friend was pulling you into a hug.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured into your hair, holding you tight to his chest. His voice wobbled a little and it made your throat squeeze. He’d brushed with death last night, just the same as you, and feeling him here – really here – was like a big sigh of relief.

“Wayne okay?” you asked quietly and he nodded, curls tangling with yours.

“Yeah, thank fuck,” he exhaled, finally letting you go to rub at the back of his neck. “Trailer’s totaled though.”

“My place too,” you commiserated and Steve’s grin faded as his realized just how much had been at stake outside of the party, outside of Vecna.

“Listen,” he started, clearing his throat, “My parents checked in this morning to make sure I was alright, but aren’t coming home anytime soon. If you need a place to stay there’s plenty of room…” Steve jammed his hands in his pockets, unsure if he’d crossed a line or was breaking some unsaid rule, but Eddie grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into a hug too.

“Thanks, man! God, that’d be great. Promise Wayne and I aren’t messy, we’ll clean up and help with dinner and the trash and–”

“Eddie,” Steve laughed, giving the other boy’s shoulder a squeeze, “It’s okay, I’m sure you’re fine.”

You were positive your heart was going to burst, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 24 hours – mostly because of these two idiots – and both boys noticed at the same moment.

Eddie frowned, worried, “Hey, hey, what’s up?”

“Oh–shit–you okay, Princess?” Steve asked, his words blending together with Eddie’s.

“No, I’m okay–” you sniffled, pressing your palms to your eyes, half-laughing at how stupid you felt, “–you two just suck.”

Both boys laughed, we love you, and Steve pulled you under his arm, “Hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with us.” He shot Eddie a look and the other boy grinned.

“Yep. Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie gave you one of his too-charming winks, “can’t get out of this one.”

You huffed a laugh and buried your face into Steve’s chest. Warm like summer and the sun, like safe and home, and when you pulled away to push up onto your toes and catch his lips between yours a voice echoed across the quad.

“OH MY GOD–WHAT?? STEVE, WHAT THE HELL?? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU’RE DATING–”

“Oh, Christ–Robin! I’m right here, you don’t have to yell!”

[ I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF, THIS SCENE WAS SCREAMING AT ME LIKE ROBIN – YOU'RE WELCOME ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[joelalorian]

Masterlist

Series

Tides of Desire

Complete: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter One - A Prelude to the Open Sea

Chapter Two - The Adventure Begins

Chapter Three - The Cut of One's Jib

Chapter Four - Cut and Run

Chapter Five - Red Sky in Morning

Chapter Six - Edging Forward

Chapter Seven - From Stem to Stern

Chapter Eight - As the Crow Flies

Chapter Nine - Close Quarters

Chapter Ten - On Your Beam Ends

Chapter Eleven - All at Sea

Chapter Twelve - Turn the Corner

Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader, ongoing

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

Chapter Two: It All Turned Around

Chapter Three: No Mirror for Monsters

Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

Chapter Five: My whole world came alive

Chapter Six: And I knew my heart wasn't mine

Chapter Seven: I'll Catch You Darlin'

Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Petals of Affection

Complete. A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

Part I

Part II

Part III

One-shots

Lost Cause

Summary: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree. Oneshot.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI; Jackson-era Joel; canon-ish but also not; drinking; mentions of cigarettes, drugs, dark thoughts, and death; unprotected p in v; oral (m and f receiving); interesting use of red wine; unspecified age gap; despair and hope.

Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

~~~~~~~~~

Fevered Flame (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Summary: When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Theresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

This fic is my contribution to @iamasaddie's Little Lady Kinky May writing challenge. Prompts were Marcus Pike and Temperature.

WC: 10.4k – I’m sorry, I have no idea where all these words came from

[flanaganfilm]

I heard "Wind Through the Keyhole" is your favorite Dark Tower novel. What makes it your favorite? It's my second favorite, after Wizard and Glass, and I was surprised most other fans didn't like it as much as I did. Although I did read in right after Wizard and Glass since I start reading after everything was released, maybe it would be a different experience coming to it after finishing everything else.

There's something about The Wind Through the Keyhole that just breaks me. I adore all the books, of course, and of the big seven, Wizard and Glass is also my favorite. But Keyhole is a fascinating coda, a beautiful reunion, and a devastating goodbye.

Because it came out after the others, there is a sense of homecoming that kicks in right away, as you find yourself reunited with these characters you love so much, who have yet to find their fates. The ka-tet is unbroken. It is that rare, beautiful, impossible thing that we all yearn for - a chance to be with those we've lost again, and to see them as we prefer to remember them. I started crying in the first chapter.

The story itself feels like a lullaby, a beautiful little epilogue that ties together all of the themes of the other books and distills them into their most pure, potent form. There are lines of dialogue and prose in this that pierce me, and encapsulate even the most elusive emotions from the journey of The Dark Tower. Here are just a few passages that tattooed themselves on my heart while reading:

--

“What if I fall?', Tim cried.

Maerlyn laughed. 'Sooner or later, we all do.”

--

“It was not fair, it was not fair, it was not fair. So cried his child's heart, and then his child's heart died a little. For that is also the way of the world.”

--

“Time is a keyhole, he thought as he looked up at the stars. Yes, I think so. We sometimes bend and peer through it. And the wind we feel on our cheeks when we do - the wind that blows through the keyhole - is the breath of all the living universe.” --

“In the end, the wind takes everything, doesn't it? And why not? Why other? If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.”

-- And finally, my favorite quote from the book:

“The two most beautiful words in any language are: I forgive.” That's the thing about this book - it is full of forgiveness, and empathy, and looks back at the road behind us with older, wiser eyes. It deepens and somehow completes Roland, Eddie, Susannah, and Jake. The Dark Tower (book 7) gives us final mental images of them, and even admonishes us to "remember them well, like this," but I find myself remembering them in Keyhole more than anything, sitting at the fire, lost in a story. The final moments as they walk on, wading back into the raging river of the story I know so well and toward their inevitable fates, gives me a sense of loss, of love, and of things being right. Ka is a wheel, and I feel it turn twice in the series. At the very end of Book 7, for sure, but also here - I feel the wheel turn in Wind Through the Keyhole in a profound way, and find myself moved as I huddle with these characters on one small spoke of that wheel, reveling in the kind of stolen reunion we only dream of in life.

It's a thoughtful, mature, beautiful look back, and for me it somehow ties the whole enterprise together in a way I could never have expected. The Dark Tower isn't complete without this book, and in a lot of ways, this book reveals the soul of the journey more clearly than the others. Just speaking for myself, of course, and I imagine mileage may vary. But this one brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye, maybe because it carries all the other books with it.