#I have too much (RECREATIONAL!!!!) stuff to do that I don’t even have time for

[moonfurthetemmie]

apparently there’s a tv series out now about some lady who hit her head and has amnesia but is working as a doctor

Living under a rock as I do I have no idea which came into existence first; Astrapia, or this show, but i suspect this isn’t the first day that commercial’s been on so it might actually be pretty close

Which is hilarious

[youareheaven]

this is what I feel like rn because I wanna buy clothes and accessories soooo bad but I don’t get paid until Friday

[obbystars]

Drop some random sebastian headcanon u have in mind fics related or not if u ever had one pls drop itudulfyldyostoakakak😇😇

(ALRIGHTY LET’S SEE IF I’VE STILL GOT IT IN ME TO MAKE A HEADCANON POST)

CONTENT WARNING: cannibalism in post-experimentation section

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / General Relationship Headcanons + some general Sebastian headcanons / kid you not pulling this up i realized i did not have any headcanons for sebastian thought out so i spent a good while thinking LSJDJSNX / i hope you guys know this is written by someone who has not dated before (has no idea what they’re doing) / wishing this could’ve been longer

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

To be honest, when it comes to entering a relationship with Sebastian, I can never see it happening when you meet during the events of the game. Like, obviously he only sees all of expendables as research collectors (and possibly food) and that’s pretty much it. He does not give two shits about us.

If you knew him before he got arrested, or even knew him while he was a prisoner under Urbanshade (specifically another prisoner), then yes I can see it happening. Of course, if you knew him beforehand and became an expendable for whatever reason after, then yes I can also see it. It’s because you knew who he was before he became what he is now, y’know?

Anywayy…

He’s a teasing type of partner. Often making sarcastic comments whenever he sees the opportunity to, pushing some of your buttons just for the fun of it, all that stuff. He can tone it down if you ask though, or if he sees it’s actually bothering you.

Sebastian does like cuddling but he is almost never the one to initiate it. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable (well he kinda is sometimes), he’s also not sure if you’re comfortable with it unless you voice it to him. Will that change anything? Not really, you’ll still need to initiate most of the time.

It’s probably obvious now that I see a relationship with Sebastian will require quite a bit of communication, but there’s nothing wrong with that. As long as you can respect his boundaries whenever he voices it, there won’t be any problems. Be sure to voice yours too, he doesn’t want to overstep any of yours either.

He’s a listener. Ramble about the most random stuff to him and he’d unintentionally take in the information. Sometimes you just going on and on about stuff makes it easier to work on his homework even if what you’re rambling about is related to your own work. If random factoids aren’t exactly what he’s looking for, playing music also helps. You can take turns playing music. He rambles too but not all the time. Usually it’s something relating to his engineering class.

Sebastian can cook up something really good whenever he feels like it. It’s not super fancy but he can recreate some of his mom’s recipes. When it’s not that, it’s just a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich or something microwaved. It really depends on the mood he’s in. If you cook, try making something he hasn’t had, like a dish from your country. He’s always willing to try.

Quality time type of partner. You don’t really need to be doing anything, he’s happy just being in the same room as you.

You two are watching YouTube videos on his laptop in bed late at night until you both fall asleep. One of you sometimes wakes up to put the laptop away, while other times it was almost kicked off the bed. Thankfully it hasn’t happened yet.

Game date nights. Whether it’s PvP or Co-op, you’re both playing. Local or online, doesn’t matter. As long as it’s multiplayer. Sebastian does strikes me as a rogue-like, souls, shooter type of gamer though. He probably picked up Sims at some point and got way too into making houses rather than actually making Sims. Sometimes he playa horror but it scares the shit out of him most of the time.

He sometimes plays his guitar for you, even asking if you have any requests. If you ask nicely enough, he’d help you learn how to play if you don’t already. If you actually end up getting your own, he’d be so down to play with you.

Meeting with his family is pretty much a must (his mom wants to meet you). His big sister embarrasses him by telling you just how much he “gushes” about you. In reality, he talks about you to them whenever they ask and if you two are going out just so they know and to not call or text him or anything until then. Still, his family likes you and that’s all he wants.

Post-Experimentation

Remember how I said Sebastian isn’t exactly uncomfortable with touch? Yeah, now he is. He has a bubble around him and he does not like it when someone gets too close whether it was intentional or not. His reaction to it can vary from shoving them away to a more violent reaction that may lead to a serious injury or even death.

Upon finding a corpse and being so terribly hungry, he had to try and force himself to eat it. The idea of eating another person made him want to spit it all out, to regurgitate all of it out. Flesh, bones, intestines, lungs, liver, heart… “Keep it in your stomach. You won’t find much food after this.” Eventually, he was able to stomach it. Eventually, it became natural.

If you’ve known him before all of this and he meets up with you while the lockdown is still happening, yeah he has questions cause what the hell. He wants to keep you safe, but if you stay around too long, Urbanshade might get suspicious that they lost an expendable’s signal. It’s already bad enough that they want him dead, and the scrambler can be a dead giveaway if their operatives suddenly can’t contact HQ. Just don’t die while you’re out there, please. It’d also be best if they don’t find out about your much deeper connection with him, so there’s another reason why it’d be difficult to stay in touch with each other in the facility.

He’d try to get in touch with Painter just to let him know about you. Lead the Good People away, shoot down a wall dweller that you haven’t noticed yet, all that stuff. He can’t do much about the bull shark, squiddles, and the anglers but he can try to do something about Pandemonium. Unlike the anglers, it’s not a cloud of smoke and is really just rotting flesh.

Physical touch with him in this case is still complicated. He’s very uncomfortable with it and it may take a while for him to warm up to your touch again. He’s not gonna hit you or anything, god no. If you were anyone else, one he doesn’t know, absolutely. He’ll try to express that. The topic itself is sensitive and he never likes bringing it up.

Assuming Mr. Lopee has taken an interest in you and allows you to keep coming back after every death, Sebastian is more willing to help you. Will he give you a discount though? No, especially not if there are other expendables with you. (he will slip in a battery or two though) It’s also a little less worry for him since death isn’t the end for you, but he wonders just how long it’ll take for Urbanshade to realize one of their prisoners is capable of coming back to life. You’re not supposed to have access to the Ferryman Tokens. The expendable protocol was specifically made so that Urbanshade didn’t have to use so much of them.

If you happen to come across something rare or something he usually sells at a high price, he’d appreciate it if you allowed him to take it off your hands and sell it to one of the other EXR-Ps. More intel from them means a higher chance of escaping (hopefully). You two will likely be stuck here for a while as long as no one else takes the crystal before then.

yeah uh

that’s all i got 🧍

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Six

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

This fic was line-jumped! If you'd like to learn more about line jumping, please see this post

Anyway, thank you line-jumper for your patience, I know this was a little late orz but I hope you enjoy it!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---

“Why do they look so weak?”

“Do you have more of these?”

“Can he really not breathe under water?”

“Does he understand bubble patterns?”

“He’s not the worst swimmer.”

“I could probably break his ribs with one tail swipe.”

“Please don’t break my mate’s ribs.”

Of all the words echoing in the water around him, those last few are the ones Eddie gets stuck on. He perks up as the curious hands of adolescent merfolk poking and prodding at him pause. From the determined expression on Steve’s face as he tugs Eddie closer, he definitely meant to say that.

“Seriously?” Robin asks, curling around Steve’s other side. Her hair floats across Eddie’s vision before settling, and bubbles rise from her fluttering gills. “You’re already mated? How did that even work?”

She glances down as she asks, and Eddie follows her gaze to Steve’s tail. It looks normal to him. His wound has healed, leaving only a faint scar behind. If anything has changed, it’s that the inexplicable splashes of orange across his scales make sense in the water. They glimmer and shine like gold and silver coins in the wavering sunlight that manages to break through the surface. Eddie is hypnotized by them, and it takes a conscious effort for him to look away.

Steve’s flush tells Eddie something important has been alluded to, and he’s starting to get an idea of it. “Robin! Not in front of the guppies!” Steve tells her. She cackles in response, bubbles bursting from her gills as she curls around Steve’s right side and flicks his forehead.

“But we already know about that stuff,” one of the guppies, Lucas, says. A few bubbles rise from his gills, too, and Eddie is starting to wonder if they’re important when Robin and Steve pause to study them. 

Another one, Dustin, nods and places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. He pushes up to float above him, holding tight so he doesn’t end up floating away. Somehow, this results in Dustin’s tail smacking against his back a few times, but at least it doesn’t hurt. “Yeah,” Dustin says, “You taught us during the last cold tide trip. Remember? Joyce and Hopper got together and started talking about more guppies, so then Erica asked what they meant and you got all red like a lobster as you tried to explain it.”

“Teaching you about reproduction and discussing…recreational enjoyment are very different things,” Steve says, his firm tone undermined by his flustered look. 

Eddie taps Dustin’s hand, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in a curious expression when Dustin looks down.

“Oh, do you wanna know?” he asks.

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve says at the same time Eddie nods. When Steve glares at him, Eddie grins, salty water rushing into his mouth. He doesn’t mind too much, especially when he points at his throat and Steve’s glare immediately melts into fondness and concern. He leans in, kissing Eddie and pushing more air past his lips. 

“We are just teaching Eddie about reproduction,” El says when Steve pulls back. She pushes under Eddie’s arm, wrapping her tail around his leg to stay in place. With her there, Dustin’s tail is no longer hitting his back, and Eddie hesitates before patting her head. 

Between her, Dustin on his shoulders, Steve holding him close, Robin practically wrapped around Steve, and the rest of the guppies surrounding them, he’s starting to realize how touchy merfolk are. Or maybe this is just Steve and Robin and their guppies. He’ll have to ask later.

“Why are you making such a big deal when it’s boring?” Max asks, huffing as two lone bubbles rise from her gills. “Two merfolk decide to have a kid. One fertilizes the other, they carry the egg for a while and birth it. After that, caretakers watch the egg until it hatches. Simple.”

Yeah. Eddie has so many questions. He can’t ask any of them now, though. All he can do is nod along, forcing his expression to remain serious as he listens. Max seems to like the attention, her gills fluttering again and letting a stream of bubbles rise to the surface as she perks up.

“Man, it sounds boring when you say it like that,” Mike tells her, grinning as he turns to look at Eddie. “So, anyway, dicks an--”

Robin laughs as she smacks her hand across Mike’s mouth, using her other hand to ruffle his hair until it’s floating wildly in the water. “All right, all right, let’s stop before dingus goes belly-up,” she says, pinching Mike’s cheek when she pulls his hand away.

He huffs and sticks his tongue out at her. “Eddie asked,” he says.

“Eddie didn’t ask anything. He can’t talk, and he doesn’t make bubbles,” El says.

“No, like, he used his face.”

“Oh.”

As they talk, Eddie tugs on Steve’s hand, pointing to his throat again. Instead of immediately kissing him, he glances up at the surface with a frown. It’s not like Eddie was actually running out of air, so he doesn’t tug on Steve’s hand again. “How about we go up,” he says, looking at Robin. When she just looks confused, he adds, “You could see Eddie’s ship.”

“Really?!” Dustin and Will ask, both of them looking at Eddie hopefully.

Eddie considers for a moment, figures the guppies can be entertained by his crew if they get too bored, and nods once.

“Yes!”

----------

“They have so much energy,” Eddie says, carefully setting Steve on the bed before collapsing into it next to him. He rubs his fingers together, feeling how wrinkly they are after spending most of the day in the ocean. They still haven’t smoothed out despite being on the ship for an hour already.

Steve hums softly, reaching over and taking Eddie’s hand. He laces their fingers together, rests their hands on his stomach, and says, “They liked you.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell between Mike trying to drown me and Erica trying to bite me,” Eddie says, squeezing Steve’s hand.

The drowning attempt had happened when they surfaced. Mike had grabbed Eddie’s ankles and yanked him back under, grinning as Eddie yelped and swallowed half the ocean in the process. Somehow, Steve had managed to both kiss Eddie some air and smack Mike upside the head with his tail.

The biting had happened while trying to get all the guppies onto the ship. It involved nets and ropes and straining muscles, but they’d managed. When Eddie was getting Erica untied from the ropes, she’d leaned over and snapped at his shoulder. Robin saved him in time by yanking her back, refusing to hear her excuse about Eddie smelling like “really fresh krill” and her being hungry.

Things had been chaotic between getting the guppies and Robin settled, figuring out food, and keeping them entertained so they wouldn’t destroy the ship out of boredom. Eddie had never been so relieved as when they’d started nodding off in a giant tub they secured to the mast.

“They were just…testing you. A little. It’s normal when caretakers introduce a mate,” Steve tells him.

“What, are they making sure I’m sturdy?”

“More that you can handle them if you join the pod,” Steve explains. “Caretakers don’t leave their pods. If they mate with a merperson from another pod, that merperson just joins it. Guppies are overprotective and want to make sure mates deserve their caretakers.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” Eddie says.

Steve nods in agreement, shifting around some until he can turn to face Eddie. The bottom of his tail curls around Eddie’s leg, a heavy weight that he finds reassuring. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Eddie can hear the questions lying beneath. Did he like the guppies? Did they manage to scare him away? Is he going to end their courtship?

“They’re cool. I like them,” Eddie says, the words spilling out so he can reassure Steve. He feels something light and happy bubble in his chest at Steve’s smile. “I am wondering about something, though.”

“What?”

“How, uh, how does all of that…work?” Eddie asks, his face burning as he gestures to Steve’s tail, focusing on the general area Robin had looked at before. Despite the embarrassment of asking, he can’t help the heat that simmers through him at Steve’s knowing smile.

“Are you interested in theory or practice?” Steve asks.

“Practice. I am so, so, so interested in practice,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s waist and tugging him closer. “But I wouldn’t mind a little theory so I know what I’m doing.”

Steve laughs, pushing against Eddie’s chest lightly. When he lets go, Steve sits up, gesturing for Eddie to sit behind him. Once they’re settled, Steve is nestled between Eddie’s legs and Eddie is resting his chin on Steve’s shoulders. “There’s a slit,” Steve says, taking Eddie’s hand and placing his palm on a patch of scales just below his waist. “When a merperson is aroused, it opens to provide access.”

Eddie swallows, nodding as he feels the cool slide of Steve’s scales under his palm. He glances at Steve and moves his hand, brushing his fingers over the area until he can feel where the slit is. It’s a slightly raised line, barely noticeable if he weren’t looking for it.

“And, uh, how does it work? For two mermen, I mean,” Eddie says.

He feels more than hears Steve hum, the vibrations pulsing through him from where Steve is resting against his chest. “Well, it doesn’t matter much,” Steve says, reaching up to tug on a loose strand of Eddie’s hair. “You humans have a word for it, I think, but all merfolk have the ability to carry or fertilize. It really just depends.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, biting the inside of his cheek as he presses his palm flat against Steve’s scales again. “So, which…I mean, what do you…you know, prefer?”

Steve thinks for a moment, twirling Eddie’s hair around his finger. “Anything that feels good,” he finally says, tilting his head back to grin at Eddie. “How about finding out what does?”

Not for the first time, Eddie thinks, perhaps, the merman in his arms will be the death of him. It’s a good thing he doesn’t mind one bit.

------

Tag List! (tags are full, please follow #high seas steddie)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar,

@beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep,

@weekend-dreamer7, @whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki,

@mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg,

@littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow

@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle,

@desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona,

@sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed,

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@m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie

[scoops-aboy86]

wc: 4849 | Rating: T | CW: greening out, recreational drug use | Additional Tags: new years fic, pining, Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening/crisis, love confessions, getting together

note: the apple cider mentioned is not hard cider, just the stuff that’s like apple juice but better 

(also on ao3)

Drink A Cup of Kindness Yet

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is greening out. 

Which, really, isn’t his fault. He’s smoked before, had pot brownies that had tasted even worse than these ones, it’s just been a while. Who knew that your tolerance could completely reset itself after only… six months. 

And, okay, maybe that happens to coincide exactly with the length of time Eddie’s been away on Corroded Coffin’s first tour. Whatever Robin says, it’s not because he’s been pining. Who’s ever heard of missing something you never even had?

(Steve’s heard. Steve’s done it. Sometimes he still misses being with Nancy even though he knows, knows he never really had her heart, not fully. Or his parents’ warmth and affection, projected onto his childhood memories mostly from heartwarming movies because they’re just not that kind of people in real life. But… shut up.)

So now he’s here, balled up on the Buckley family’s sofa like one wrong move will send him toppling to the floor and too warm, so overheated that his body doesn’t feel like it’s fitted on its bones right. With Eddie holding his hand—stupid, after all the time they’ve spent smoking together before Eddie’s music career started taking off. The guy was always up for a toke, and Steve had taken advantage of that to spend more and more time with him until real life cut Steve off cold turkey. 

From the weed, obviously. That… That’s the real problem here. 

“Sorry,” Steve forces out. His head lolls back against the couch; talking takes a lot of effort and concentration. “That I’m… blrrrmph.” 

That last bit is a stand in for whatever word he means that he totally can’t think of right now. It’s sarcastic and frustrated and a little bit whiny, and he’s so disappointed in himself for it. 

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Stevie. It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have made the brownies so strong. Just… New Year’s, you know? I went a little overboard.”

At a loss, Steve squeezes back. On one hand, he'd be much more comfortable if Eddie were annoyed with him, because Steve is used to that response from people. On the other, he’d had a half-baked plan to maybe get up the nerve to kiss Eddie at midnight because, like, that’s what people do when the clock strikes midnight to ring in the new year. It’s just the three of them, and it’s not like he can kiss Robin, she’s basically his sister. 

But now he’s over baked. He’s wrong footed without being on his feet, pulse racing and dizzy without moving, stomach uneasy because of how out of whack his internal thermostat seems to be right now, and Eddie…

Eddie is smoothing a cool wet washcloth over his forehead, courtesy of Robin—who only had one bite of brownie to start with as a precaution, and ended up a perfectly manageable amount of high. On one hand, Steve hates that about her not while he himself is so incapacitated. On the other, he loves her for being able to bring him stuff. 

Wait. How many hands is that by now? What kind of many-handed creature is he building with his internal ramblings?

Eddie holds a mug to his mouth. The ceramic is cool against his bottom lip, so he allows it; stares straight into Eddie’s big, worried brown eyes while being fed sips of apple cider, sweet and cool over his tongue, down his throat. 

“Gotta stay hydrated,” Eddie is saying, a soothing murmur. “It’ll help bring you down, sweetheart. Like a parachute.”

Steve wants to shake his head, but the message to move keeps getting lost somewhere between his brain and his neck. Which is stupid, they’re right next to each other! He waits until the mug goes away, then mumbles, “Nnn. Crash.” Puffing out his cheeks, he imitates what he thinks sounds like an explosion. 

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie retorts. A crinkle appears between his eyebrows and Steve wants to smooth it out, but he can’t. He can’t. “I’d never let you crash.”

And then. Oh no. It occurs to Steve that that’s not strictly true, and it’s not even Eddie’s fault because he didn’t know. About the… the… Well, Steve doesn’t even really know, he’s spent so long carefully tiptoeing around the shape of it—can’t miss what you never had—but. Eddie left. His departure carved out a hole, a crater that marked the way they’d emergency-landed into each other's lives one terrible Spring Break and never parted until… until. 

Steve’s eyes are swimming, leaking, possibly melting out of his skull and none of it is Eddie’s fault. It’s not Eddie’s fault that he fell into the crater in his own chest and can’t climb out, can’t even move. 

Eddie’s eyes, in contrast, go wide. “Oh, Stevie, you’re okay—”

“I d-d-d,” Steve tries, stuttering and locked up and too hot and too queasy and too much. 

Another weight settles on his other side: Robin, sitting on the arm of the couch and wriggling her cold feet under him. It is, she told him once, the closest she will ever get to willingly touching his ass, and that memory wrings an incongruous, wet little laugh out of Steve even now. 

“Ride it out, dingus,” she tells him, combing fingers through his sweaty hair and, he can tell, trying to fix it for him. Not that she’s ever very good at doing so, but he appreciates the attempt. “I brought you some leftovers if you’re hungry.”

Robin’s mom loves turkey, so it’s always on the Buckley family menu for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. It’s what they all had before the older adults went off to some party they’d been invited to and the ‘kids’ stayed behind. Now Robin’s brought him a small plate with the perfect ratio of turkey, stuffing, and jellied cranberry sauce, the kind that comes in the shape of a can. Not really finger food, but that’s how she feeds it to him whenever he flops his head from facing Eddie to facing her. 

His eyes well up again because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and because he’s being a total loser right now but it doesn’t matter because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and… 

Woah. Déjà vu. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles again with a sniffle. “Shitty New Year’s.”

Eddie’s still holding his hand, squeezing it again reassuringly. “Trust me, big boy, this is nothing. I tried something on the road that, like, I don’t even know what that was. And I’m supposed to know my shit right? Ended up trashing a hotel room, which was… a classic rockstar move, actually, but it felt terrible. Especially after. You can’t help a bad trip while it’s happening, just gotta take steps once it’s over to make sure it never happens again.” He pauses. “And that’s why me and all the guys have made a blood pact not to accept anything from groupies, roadies, or music execs anymore.”

Robin, from where Steve isn’t looking, hums. “Naming that many sources doesn’t sound like it was just a one time mistake.”

Eddie shrugs, a motion that flows all the way up Steve’s arm from their clasped hands. “Well, there are four of us, so.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about what Eddie is or isn’t doing, what he is or isn’t accepting, from groupies. Distantly, he can feel his face doing something—pouting, maybe—as he whines and tips closer into Eddie’s space. Ends up with his face smooshed against the other man’s collarbone and throat, touching both threadbare band t-shirt and bare, stubbled skin. Now that he’s out of Robin’s reach, Eddie takes over stroking his hair after only a brief hesitation. 

And, like. Not to downplay how much Steve appreciates Robin, but this is better. He’s not sure why, it just is. If Eddie keeps going, he could probably stay here forever, just like this. 

Which is how he dozes off, all sense of time melting away until he merely exists, a seamless transition from being cradled by Eddie in real life to surrounded by him in a dream. 

~

Steve wakes with a snort to find himself almost right where he’d started, except instead of tucked into the corner of the couch he’s tucked into Eddie’s lap, probably squashing the other man’s legs numb. Instead of holding his hand, Eddie’s other arm is wrapped firmly around his back, holding him securely in place; the hand that had been in Steve’s is now holding several playing cards. Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve plays on low in the background, light shifting through the otherwise dim room. 

“Go fish,” Eddie crows softly, then turns to Steve as Robin huffs and takes a card from the draw pile. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. You feeling better?”

Feeling humiliated is more like it. Can’t even handle his—But at the same time, something in Steve has settled. A crater filled in. He doesn’t pick his head up, but he does bring a hand to his mouth to wipe away an embarrassing amount of drool, and tries clumsily to wipe it with the edge of his sleeve from where Eddie’s neck meets his shoulder, too. 

“M’fine,” he mutters, not totally convinced this is true. He feels clearer, sure, but definitely still high. He’s still sleepy, muscles lax, comfortable where he is. Embarrassment isn’t quite enough to make him move yet, drool or not. 

To hell with new year traditions though, because he can’t try for a midnight kiss now; his luck tonight has been way too bad already. And besides, he hasn’t even admitted to Robin he’s having these thoughts first, which is probably a soulmate faux pas. Kissing Eddie without consulting her first seems borderline rude. Or something. 

(More like he’s being a coward, but he’s pretty sure his reasons are, you know. Reasonable.)

He squints at the cards in Eddie’s hand. “Ask for sevens.”

“Okay. Got any sevens, Birdie?” There’s something warm and affectionate in Eddie’s tone. A smile, maybe—something Steve had missed while he was conked out. 

“Two against one, no fair,” Robin grumbles, but hands over a card. 

They play for a little while longer like that, until Robin is eventually placated by winning despite the allegedly unfair player imbalance. When she bounces up to get them all refills of cider in time for the midnight countdown, Eddie gets Steve’s attention by leaning back just enough to make eye contact. 

“Hey Stevie. I’m really sorry I didn’t warn you about the brownies… I should probably take a tolerance break, I barely even felt it and that clashes with my personal values.” The smile Eddie shoots at him is lopsided, dimple popping on one side in a way that makes Steve want to cup his cheek in one hand and pull him close until their mouths touch. Fuck. “Gotta be easier on the wallet and get back to those days of being a cheap date, otherwise I lose some of my already questionable appeal.”

“‘S not questionable,” Steve protests through a yawn. “You’re nice.”

“To you,” Eddie retorts. “To everyone else, I’m mean as a snake.”

His voice is gone quiet again. If Steve didn’t know any better he’d think it was shy—but Eddie Munson doesn’t do shy, there’s no way. Eddie Munson… is a goddamn rockstar trying not to stay stuck in this podunk town, and Steve finds himself smiling stupidly at him with reddened eyes that are still slightly unfocused. 

“You’re a big metal softie,” Steve says, because the record’s gotta be set straight. He taps Eddie’s nose for emphasis and chuckles when Eddie scrunches it and goes cross eyed trying to follow the motion with his eyes. 

There’s a moment where they just sort of look at each other. Steve feels so content, just looking at him. Knowing that Eddie isn’t expecting anything of him beyond being himself, which is… well, it doesn’t come easy a lot of the time, but for now he feels loose and warm. 

“Steve, can I tell you something?” Eddie whispers. 

He wants to hear what Eddie has to say. He always wants to hear everything on Eddie’s mind. So he nods. 

Gently, Eddie brushes Steve’s hair out of his eyes. (When had that gotten there?) “For a while now, I’ve—”

“Here we go!” Robin interrupts, setting their three glasses of fancy apple juice on the coffee table and flopping down behind Steve. “Do you think we have time to play another round? I bet I could kick your ass at War before the ball drops.”

“Robin,” Eddie says without breaking eye contact with Steve, “I think you forgot something in the kitchen.”

There’s a pause, presumably while Robin reads the room, and then Steve feels the couch shift as she stands again. “Oh! You know what, you’re right! I’ll just… go figure out what that was while you two keep talking, carry on.”

Even though that’s his platonic soulmate, there was never a question of turning to look at her. Steve is breathless, floating, and Eddie is all around him, just like in his dream. It’s doing something inscrutable and fantastic to his insides. (I am still really high, he thinks, and then promptly loses the thought.)

When she’s gone again, Eddie simply says, “I missed you, Steve.”

“You did?” Steve whispers. 

“Yeah. And it made me realize something.” 

He’s still busy welling up just from Eddie thinking of him while out in the big wide world at all. “What?” 

Eddie smiles, a complicated emotion sculpting his expressive face that Steve wants to map with his fingertips until he knows it like the back of his own hand. “That life’s too short not to tell someone you love them.”

What?  

“And it’s funny,” Eddie continues, “because you’d think I would’ve figured that out after nearly dying, but nope. That little epiphany waited until I left Hawkins and realized how… just how perfectly you’d folded yourself into my life. I missed seeing you, talking to you every day. And I didn’t say anything about it any of the times I called because I didn’t want to fuck up at least being friends—”

Steve gets that. It’s been the loudest of his not-quite-thoughts for months now.

“—But fuck it, alright? I love you. So I had to come back and, well… I chickened out on saying it earlier tonight, and then you got way too high and this probably isn’t the best time to dump this on you, but…” He smiles nervously. “The way you’ve been looking at me since you woke up, it’s like there’s stars in your eyes, Stevie. I don’t know if it’s for me or if it’s the weed or what, but it keeps making my heart do cartwheels. You don’t have to… I’m not asking for anything, and if you don’t feel the same way—like, romantically, I don’t mean platonic right now, just to be very, very clear—that’s okay, but I just needed you to know. That I love you.”

I love you. Just like that, unprompted. Twice. Kinda three times, even, if you count life’s too short not to tell someone you love them. 

In all of Steve’s relationships, he’s been the first to say it, always. He hasn’t said it in a long time, so it’s been a while since he’s heard it from anyone other than Robin—until this shooting star left where it had risen to in the sky to spend an honestly tame night with two best friends, one of whom can’t handle his special brownies for shit, saying that Steve fit in his life as though he’d had a crater carved in him too. Gazing at him now with a heartbreakingly open look, like he wouldn’t even hold it against him if Steve shrugged off Eddie’s arm and climbed out of his lap for this. 

And Steve, with all his walls around his heart to keep it from breaking, walls in his head around the start of thoughts about Eddie best left untouched for danger of getting in over his head… He hasn’t given himself the time or space to come to terms with any of it, but he can feel all that time spent not thinking about it welling up behind his eyes, the byproduct of pressing it all down oozing back up, and fuck. The last thing he wants is to fuck this up and lose Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he wants to cry about it. 

It happens anyway, too stoned to be any good at holding it in. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, that same crinkle between his eyebrows again as he cradles Steve closer. Closer, not away, so that’s something. That’s… Steve doesn’t know if it’s what he wants right now, body responding so equally with urges to flee and relax that he ends up feeling too leaden to move. Again. “Shit, sorry, I—Do you want me to get Robin?”

Steve shakes his head violently, the inside of it as blank as an Etch-A-Sketch, and what’s wrong with him? He can’t—he would kill to talk to Robin, but he hasn’t, not about this, not for months. What the fuck is wrong with him?

She could’ve helped him sort this out, and then he might know what to say about Eddie loving him. Instead, he's sitting here in Eddie’s lap feeling like he could just as easily run a marathon or simply fall over dead. 

“I didn’t, I don’t know,” Steve says, panicking. His hands fumble, he’s not even sure what they’re trying to do until they’re clutching at Eddie, fingers twisted into the band shirt that’s so soft and faded he can’t even tell what’s on it, had been trying to puzzle it out right up until he’d gotten too high to function. “Eddie, I haven’t…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly, even though he doesn’t. “I’m not asking you for anything here. I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that, Steve.”

But you did, Steve thinks hysterically, because he had just by bringing it up, just by… 

Eddie is pulling Steve to rest his forehead on his shoulder, something they’ve done for each other in panic attacks and after nightmares ever since surviving the end of the world together. They’ve both done it for Robin, and she’s done it for them. This is barely different, the same gesture even if what Steve is freaking out about this time is wholly new-but-not-new, and being high through it makes things easier and harder. 

His heart is thumping hard and fast in his chest like it might burst. Maybe he wants it to. 

Maybe Eddie needs to see the messy contents of his heart and help sort through the gore and the junk to find what’s real in it, if anything. Steve doesn’t trust himself to know; he’s had trouble trusting himself with love, anyone’s love but Robin’s really, for a long time. 

“You just,” he whines into Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t know, Eds, you—I don’t even fucking know!”

There’s a hand rubbing soothing patterns over his back, a little uncertain. “Okay, I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’re talking about, obviously, but it’s okay not to know.”

No it’s not, because Eddie deserves an answer. Eddie was brave, is brave, and Steve is… whatever this is. A mess. Maybe confused, maybe just trying to be more like Robin and mistaking his friendship with Eddie for attraction. How is he supposed to be sure? 

Steve’s fingers twist harder into the soft t-shirt material as he blurts out, “You left.” He doesn’t like how accusing it sounds, how whiney still, but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “I missed you too, you asshole, I… It’s been killing me, Eds, and I didn’t, I don’t know!”

“It’s okay not to know,” Eddie repeats, sounding dazed and maybe a little desperate, probably because Steve isn’t making any sense. 

“But I need to,” Steve argues frantically. “I can’t, I can’t fuck this up, or I’m just fucking bullshit again and I can’t—”

“No.” It’s the first firm thing Eddie has said in a while, the first thing he’s sounded sure about since I just needed you to know. He pulls back, but only enough to lift Steve’s chin to look at him, big brown eyes locking in like a tractor beam to rival the Death Star’s. “You are not bullshit.”

It’s just as devastating as hearing the opposite, like a forest fire clearing out old deadfall to make way for new things to grow.

And that’s all it takes apparently. Steve yanks Eddie forward by the shirt because he has to know. 

~

In the kitchen, Robin dawdles with getting more snacks to go with more apple cider—because, as Eddie had pointed out once Steve was down for the count, getting crossfaded on champagne would not end well. 

And then Eddie had whisper-asked, while carefully supporting a lapful of her unconscious platonic soulmate, “What do I do, Robin?” and then “He’s so…!” and eventually even “I’m too gay to survive this, Buckley.”

Which is nothing he hadn’t said to her before, so she’d just rolled her eyes and retorted, “So tell him already, dummy.”

Because she knows Steve. He doesn’t listen to his heart nearly as much as he should, too convinced that it’ll get him into trouble, but that’s because he’s a dingus. 

Now, hearing Steve start to freak out in the other room, Robin grips hard at her own hands and wavers. Should she not have encouraged Eddie? Crap. Should she go back out there? Crap, she’d been so sure that Steve felt the same way that she’d forgotten it was technically possible that he might have a bad reaction. Because, like, being cool about two girls liking each other was different from another guy liking him. She doesn’t think he’d freak out about it or anything, but she also hadn’t expected Eddie to take her advice so immediately, so clearly she’s not infallible. 

Crap, she should go back out there. Panicking, Robin grabs the dish of cranberry sauce because Steve loves that wiggly, can-shaped abomination and rushes back to the living room to—

Catch an eyeful of Steve now full-on straddling Eddie, face damp with one hand tangled with his shirt and the other in his curly hair. Steve’s eyes are closed, and so are Eddie’s as they kiss so desperately they’re almost rocking back and forth. 

She’s happy for them, but… ew. 

“Missed you,” Steve gasps between kisses. “Eds—missed you—so much—”

Eddie moans into his mouth, which frankly is more than Robin needed to hear. Thankfully, though, his own hands are at a respectable middle ground between looped around Steve’s waist and reaching for his ass. “Sweetheart—‘

They seem to be working it out. Robin’s going to retreat to the kitchen and give them a minute. 

~

Their first kiss is kind of like a traffic collision, which Steve regrets immediately. (He used to be good at this, dammit.) But Eddie—I’d never let you crash—kisses readily back, slows him with a touch to his jaw and eases the pace into something less frantic, but still eager. Easing him down like the parachute he’d promised until they’re fitted together like there’s no place they’d rather be. 

Steve has never been on someone’s lap for a kiss before. Eddie is warm beneath him, against him, arms securely around him. If he’d had any doubts, they’re melting in the warmth of how safe this feels. Like this is exactly where he’s meant to be. 

And it doesn’t hurt that Eddie is a good kisser. Or that Steve on his knees over him trying to press closer and closer, which… yep, they are definitely both starting to get hard from this. Steve can feel Eddie against him, an electric point of contact that’s unfamiliar, but feels more good than scary. 

Mostly. Because he wants—god, he wants, suddenly, so much more than he had let himself even think about before—but not right now, while he’s still stoned in Robin’s living room. It’s not like Eddie expects that, right? He said he loves him.

“M’not a groupie,” Steve reminds Eddie, whining a little into his mouth with a sudden stab of jealousy and dread. This has to be real or he’s not going to survive it. 

“Never,” Eddie pants. “Stevie, sweetheart—” he steals another kiss “—none of them are you, none of them could ever.”

“So you don’t…?”

“Have a few times,” he admits, pained but earnest. “Not in weeks. Kept thinking about you.” His hold tightens possessively, another thing Steve has never been on the receiving end before but it sends a thrill up his spine. “I kept forgetting their names and saying yours. They’re not who I want.”

Steve flushes, pleased by the thought of Eddie thinking about him while getting off but limited in imagining it because… well, he’s not totally sure how it works with two guys, beyond hand stuff. How to decide who puts what where. How does it… fit? Does Eddie like to be the, uh, the one putting it in? Oh god. God, what if Eddie does want that, but his dick is huge?! Because, like, Steve is on board with the idea of a dick in his hand, he knows what that feels like inside and out, but the rest—

He takes a shaky breath and tries to stop spiraling, but. It’s a lot. “Um, I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here, Eds. Are you sure I’ll live up to… whatever you’ve been thinking about?”

“Baby,” Eddie purrs, and there’s the rockstar shining through, soothing in its confidence when Steve feels so unsure. (Even though Corroded Coffin has achieved only moderate Midwest fame so far, Steve’s always thought he has the charisma for more.) “First of all, it would be my pleasure to show you the ropes, one thing at a time. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with until you tell me it’s okay. And the good thing about having an overactive imagination is that, whatever you feel good about, anything we do will be straight out of my dreams.”

He winks, and Steve ducks his head with a grin, reassured by the answer even though there’s a lot he needs to wrap his head around still.  

“And second, Big Boy, I can already tell that measuring up will not be a problem.” Punctuated by a rock of his hips that, though subtle, rubs them together just right that Steve has to bite his bottom lip to stifle a moan. 

Eddie makes a little growling sound in his throat and dips in to take that lip for himself, worrying it gently before soothing it with a kiss. A surprisingly chaste one, which Steve finds as soothing as the pleasure a moment before was electrifying. 

“And third,” Eddie continues, “me and the guys have been talking about setting up home base in Indy now that we’ve gotten started. That’s close enough to visit, at least. See where this goes. Go on—” and now his face is so endearingly hopeful it makes Steve’s heart feel too big for his chest “—dates? I don’t know where you are yet, and like I said, it’s okay if you’re not either, but that’s what I want: a relationship, in as many ways as I can get.”

“Yeah,” Steve says immediately. He’d started nodding before Eddie had even finished speaking. “Yeah, I think I want that too.”

Maybe it is okay that he doesn’t have everything quite figured out yet. And Robin had to have known, somehow, what Eddie was going to bring up when he’d shooed her out of the room; she wouldn’t have left so easily if she had any objections. She probably won’t be as mad as he’d feared about being left out of the loop. 

As if summoned by the thought, they both hear Robin call loudly from the kitchen, “Are you two done getting your gay and presumably-bisexual longing out in the open out there, or should I make popcorn while your gross boy cooties are barring me from my own couch?”

Eddie snorts, and Steve starts shaking with repressed laughter—one part snickering at his best friend’s predicament and three parts relief that she doesn’t sound mad. He’s never been more grateful that they seem to share a brain, even when he doesn’t know how to unpack his own shit sometimes. 

Though, now that he’s started, there’s a lot he wants to talk with her about. Starting with, what does it mean that he’s presumably some sort of bicycle?

“Make the popcorn anyway, we’re busy,” Eddie calls, and kisses Steve again. 

Not chaste this time. Still sweet, but with a richness and depth that Steve parts his lips for eagerly. He may not know the guy part of this but he knows kissing, knows how to adjust without pulling too hard on the reins—and that’s not so different from not really having the reins at all, really. 

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is on top of the fucking world. 

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[glamourscat]

Hello hello!

If/when you have the time to do so, it'd be pretty cool to see some headcannons about the type of nerd stuff Tim does/is into. Like what kinds of games and shows he's into, "nerdy" behaviors of his, would he ever cosplay, etc. I personally think that he'd be into Dungeons and Dragons (not sure to what degree though).

Also, as an alternative, you could do headcannons about Tim with a nerdy!S/O who "matches his freak", so to speak.

Anyway, that's pretty much it! Have a nice day/night!

TIM DRAKE NERDY HOBBIES HCS

Tim being into DnD is actually canon! The game he played in the comics was called Warlocks and Warriors

So, to what degree would he play? I think a pretty serious one

Not necessarily every week game night sort of thing, but at least once at month, or when he and his group can regroup to play together

I can see him going deep into the character making. Choosing the name accurately to the ability they have, the powers and so on

He wouldn’t be necessarily into “solving” games, like cluedo, for example. He is a vigilante, it’s a big part of him sure, but he also needs a break you know?

Games that represent too “close” to his real life would be a no no from the get go. Monopoly, cluedo and anything of the sorts

He is the type to prefer table games. Regrouping with his friends and play cards or anything really, just makes his night

In terms of video games I can see him play mini games (?) like small horror, thrilling ones on his pc. Otherwise he enjoys going to the arcade more. 80/90s style games are more up to his liking

Though, something he really LOVES, is Pokémon. He has a Nintendo switch just to play Pokémon games

Guilty pleasure are cooking mama, animal crossing and super Mario

The type to download the sim just to recreate you guys on the game and your love life

Loves legos. Especially the big set ones, he finishes them so quickly

A star wars fan

I see him as someone who really would enjoy watching anime and reading manga

Definitely fantasy ones, especially ones with mythical creatures, aka vampires (?) idk I just get those vibes

But heavy on the type of anime that play mind games. That are filled with mysteries, foreshadows and twists, confusion and maybe dive slightly into psychology too

JJK, blue exorcist (manga), attack of titans, erased, Steins:Gate, detective Conan, the case study of vanitas, odd taxi, psycho pass, the perfect insider, black butler, death note, monster

He would love to go to anime conventions

Definitely the type to lose himself around the stands 24567 times

Buys way too much merch

Has an extended collection of Funko pops, mangas, collectors editions and figures

Very big on graphic novels, comics and fantasy books too!

He is into coding. Something he really enjoys is creating little interactive websites pages for his s/o

Like this one

Collects the most random shit. Like I imagine him travelling for missions, state to state or outside the US and all of the sudden he brought back a collection of the most obscure handmade thing he could find in that place.

Big into astronomy. Hell, he is the type to randomly say in a conversation “today Mars will be visible at so and so degree, so I’m busy tonight” (I don’t even know if that’s possible but that’s besides the point)

Photography, although not as “nerdy”, he loves it. His style is more urban leaning. He manages to capture what he wants in his work perfectly

lastly, HE DEFINETLY COSPLAYS!!! i mean, look at canon

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[cheolhub]

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.” 

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?” 

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you. 

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!” 

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him. 

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan. 

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures. 

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry. 

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true. 

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock. 

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can. 

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

 it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend. 

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day. 

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did. 

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic. 

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least. 

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it. 

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much. 

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants. 

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you. 

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core. 

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle. 

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic. 

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve. 

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction. 

you want him. you… want him. 

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars. 

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time. 

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt. 

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately. 

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other. 

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought. 

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist. 

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him. 

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above. 

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything. 

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily. 

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth. 

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds. 

“you’re so wet.” he hisses. 

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.” 

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering. 

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’” 

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks. 

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock. 

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there. 

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died. 

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow. 

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’ 

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you. 

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him. 

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him. 

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.” 

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again. 

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest. 

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into. 

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers. 

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him. 

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it. 

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.” 

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly. 

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised. 

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”  

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight. 

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you. 

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them. 

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him. 

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?” 

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. 

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing. 

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out. 

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum. 

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release. 

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs. 

“hey,” he whispers. 

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.” 

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?” 

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.” 

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?” 

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[briarberrythornedhart]

Trust me

Contains: Post Season 4, Hurt/comfort, implied sex, Eddie Munson X You, no Y/N, roommates to lovers.

🦇 🛋️ 🦇 😴 🦇

Eddie lived.

And now he lives with you. You invited him to stay with you in your apartment and lie low while the Sheriff’s dept and the FBI completed the investigation of the murders (and exonerated Eddie, obviously).

There is some damage to his tattoos and a half destroyed nipple but otherwise he was unharmed physically by the events in Hawkins.

Mentally, he struggles.

He is uneasy and anxious.

Extremely Jumpy.

You’ve taken to wearing an ankle bracelet that jingles so he’ll hear you coming and not panic.

He doesn’t sleep well. He’s always tired and can’t even nap. He’s not even cranky about it, he’s just listless.

Dustin says he’s very different from the Eddie he knew in High School. Almost the opposite. Revved Down.

Eddie tells you he can’t sleep anymore because when he closes his eyes he sees the murders. Even Fred’s, which he didn’t witness in person, his brain cruelly recreates on a loop of guilt with the other deaths. It does no good to tell him he shouldn’t feel guilty, he can’t turn off the feeling that if he’d done something differently… he could have saved them. Like he personally could have taken Vecna out if he knew the solution. Like he picked the wrong CYOA path. It’s ridiculous and he knows it but he can’t seem to change that feeling, especially at night.

In the time you’ve chosen to take him in as your own personal project— sorry… as your roommate and good friend - You have barely seen him close his eyes at all.

The chocolate orbs are usually on you, meeting your gaze, watching your movements. Curious as a cat.

Right now it’s breakfast and he’s watching you make cinnamon toast.

Your way. Which is a very specific way. Exactly how you like it.

He looks like he’s taking mental notes but his head is heavy on his hand and his shoulders are curved like he could almost fall over from fatigue.

The black eyeliner he let you decorate his eyes with is smeared over the dark circles under his eyes. The black nail polish on each short nail bed on each long skilled (guitarist) finger is chipped. You will offer to repaint it later.

Even bone tired in rumpled sweatpants and an old tshirt that has holes in the armpits and at the collar… he is still unbelievably hot.

Without a doubt, if you weren’t certain-sure he was not into you in the slightest, you’d have tried something already.

Probably. You have a type and it is this guy.

“Smells good.” Eddie suddenly says. Perking up slightly.

“Do you want some toast?” You ask.

“Yes, please, princess.” He uses his trademark terms of endearment with everyone. It isn’t condescending or anything. After all he calls Steve Harrington and ‘Coffin-Jeff’ from his band and Nancy Wheeler ‘Princess’, too. So you think it doesn’t mean much of anything.

He licks his lips in anticipation.

The man would live on foods that are nutritionally-void vessels for butter if you didn’t insist on the occasional salad or omelette.

“You can have as much as you like if you’ll take a nap for me after.” You promise, handing him a triangle of toast.

“With you?” Eddie raises his eyebrows in a twist of confusion.

“Yeah. I mean…At the same time.” You Disambiguate. He slumps slightly and nibbles on the crusts. “You could take the couch and I could take the loveseat… Unless…”

“Unless???” His eyebrows are back up, way up, hidden in the curly brunette fringe.

“Well….I’ve heard that weighted blankets help with uneasy sleep, nightmares, anxiety and stuff. We don’t have anything heavy bedding wise but…I could be your weighted sorta blanket…if you trust me.”

“You’d do that for me?” Eddie smiles softly. “Even knowing I usually wake up yelling and screaming about scary shit?”

You did not know that. “Of course. Let’s try something new, you need sleep and I want to help if I can.”

He finished the cinnamon toast in 2 bites.

You lead him to the big thrift store find monstrosity of a chesterfield that he had helped you heft into the apartment.

It was wide and deep and cozy.

“Will I fit?” Eddie looked skeptical. “I usually curl up on my side on couches, these darn legs are longer than they look…”

You pressed gently on his shoulders. “Trust me. Get comfy.” You insisted. “Bend one knee up against the sofa back.”

He flopped down on his back, hands behind head, legs slightly spread and gone boneless. “Climb aboard.” He said wryly.

You crawled from his bare feet up between his spread legs to ease yourself onto his body. You tried not to feel some kind a messy way about how he body-rolled against you as you both tried to find the most comfortable position. Eventually your head was resting on his broad chest.

You shifted and felt like you were gonna roll off him, off the couch, but he said “whoa, princess.” And wrapped an arm around you to keep you there.

You were held and warm and not a little bit well….to be honest you were just completely massively turned on by the perfect scent of him and being pressed against his body.

“You good?” You asked.

“Yea, sweetheart. How bout You?” Eddie whispered.

“I feel safe.” You lied. Because what you felt was more complex than safe could ever be.

“Good. When I get… uh…if you notice that I am…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Just know I’d never do anything. I promise.”

You peered up at him. Your turn to be very confused.

He stammered and his face reddened. “I mean if you feel uh… ‘little Eddie’ getting ideas down there, don’t worry, I’m in control. Just because you feel so nice… perfect even… know I’m at the helm, right? And I value our friendship and would never…”

“I thought I didn’t do it for you?? Like at all?” You stammered back.

“I mean, obviously you do. You Do all of it for little Eddie.” He gestured at his crotch which was pitching a size large (OMG is that real?) tent in the sweats. “You are hot and sweet and funny and whip-smart and you’ve got this ass that I… ::fuck:: I’m sorry, forget I said… I mean, I wouldn’t ever do anything about it, not ever.”

“Why the hell not??” You got up on your elbows and sat on his belly. You looked down at his gorgeous flushed face. He bit his lips hard.

“Princess, You mean too much to me. When I think about losing you…”

“Why would you lose me? I’m very hard to just…misplace.” You stuck out your tongue at him.

He gave you a small chuckle and his hands found your hips. Squeezed you there. One hand stroked down your leg to run a finger over your jingling ankle bracelet. Then he frowned and then his hands dropped away.

He took a deep shuddery breath. “I usually lose when I love… one way or another, it’s inevitable… I have extraordinarily bad luck.”

“Eddie, nothing is totally inevitable.” You touched his cheek. Rubbed his lower lip with your thumb. “Can you trust me just a little bit more than you fear bad luck?”

Perhaps a smile teased one corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. Nearly one. “I trust you, Princess.”

You dismounted Eddie and took his hand to lead him to your room. Soon to be his room too.

He did yell that night but not in an unhappy way.

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Two

Warnings: internalized homophobia, binge drinking, appearance of player!paige (As stated previously this is NOT a reflection of how I believe Paige acts in real life), infidelity, angst y’all i’m sorry

Word Count: 9.5k (i need help)

Authors Note: This is coming out a lil later than I intended … lets just say it was intentional to celebrate Paige’s return and not because I was traveling all day yesterday (literally proofreading this in the airport rn lol). This chapter is told entirely in flashbacks to explain why Maya is crashing out so many years later because oh boy… this one is rough for Paige I’m not gonna lie.

also!! I don’t have a tag list for this fic but if there is enough interest I can consider it!!

December 2019

It had been a full month since that night in the parking lot, and overall not much had changed. They still did all the same activities they always did: drives around town, homework together in their bedrooms, going to the recreation center so Paige could practice her three point shot while Maya studied for this years case. The only difference is that these hangouts would usually end the same way: Paige’s lips on Maya, fingers in brown tresses while Maya trailed hands down Paige’s toned back. They waited until they were in somewhere remotely private, of course (although Maya didn’t know if a car counted as private). 

It always stopped at making out though, usually when both of them were too breathless to talk. Not that Maya necessarily needed more physically - she wasn’t even sure what being ready for that felt like - but she still felt an ache after each time the door shut, either after Paige left her place or when she reentered her home after being dropped off by the blonde. She would be perfectly happy just kissing Paige for the rest of her life if she could just get some answers on what was going on.

She finally got the courage one Wednesday night. Paige was sprawled on her bedroom floor, hardwood made more comfortable by a multicolor rug. Maya laid beside her, close enough to smell the notes of aloe in her hair from her post practice shower. Shutting her AP Chem book (she had an A in the class anyway, being unprepared for one quiz couldn’t hurt that bad), she spoke. “So, what are we doing?”

Paige’s head rose from Catcher in the Rye as if Maya’s voice had startled her, cocking her head a bit. “Hmm?”

Maya exhaled, sitting up from her current position so she had her knees pressed to her chest. Paige followed suit, still lying down but lifting her upper body with her forearms (Maya would be lying if her heart didn’t stop a bit at the sight). “I mean, you’re my best friend. We spend a ton of time together… we do other stuff.” Maya let out a hushed giggle, a sheepish smile spreading on Paige’s face which flushed at the comment. “I don’t do this with my other friends.”

“Not even Maddie from mock trial?” Paige joked, her eyebrows raised. Paige had met Maddie just the past weekend, after Maya brought her to Paige’s game against a school in Saint Paul. In their five minute post-game interaction, Paige had clocked Maddie as one of the straightest girls she had ever met: full Lululemon and Kendra Scott outfit, bleach blonde hair, and a J initial necklace for her baseball player boyfriend. 

“Paige, I’m trying to be serious right now!” Maya exclaimed, her hands reaching her head to hide the smile that was emerging. This was the issue - Paige made it too easy for Maya to relax. So relaxed she almost missed the way her face fell slightly, her teeth meeting her bottom lip.

“No one else knows I’m … gay.” The last word came out as a whisper, perhaps out of fear that someone was right outside of Maya’s door even though Maya’s dad and his girlfriend had been out for hours. “I think they all kinda wonder and I know they’d be cool with it, but ion know if I’m ready to say it yet. I want people to know me as Paige the basketball player, not just for being gay. I got so much I want to accomplish.”

Maya nodded along, her mind running fast to try and digest what Paige was saying. She’s a fixer at heart, always trying to find a way to make people’s problems go away. This just didn’t seem like a situation she could fix. At the end of the day she was talking to Paige Bueckers. The aspect of having that big of a spotlight on you at all times is something she would probably never be able to fully understand.

“Is that okay?” Paige asked, mistaking Maya’s silence for something worse. Maya quickly nodded.

“Yeah, I'm just thinking,” she responded, thinking about her own identity and how it affected how she was approaching the situation. “I don’t know what I am yet. I don’t think I have to know to know that I like you.”

“I like you too.” Paige responded, the blush on her pale cheeks now a lot more prominent.

“Well I’d hope so, since we’ve made out like 50 times.” It was now Maya’s turn to joke, earning an eye roll and a gentle shove from Paige, although it was clear from the adoration in her eyes that her annoyance was nothing more than playful teasing. “So what now?”

“I think we should wait before we call each other girlfriends or anything,” Paige spoke carefully, grabbing Maya’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean I want to stop this. I want this.”

The way Paige was looking at her and feeling how her thumb was drawing circles on the back of her hand made her believe every word she said. There was just one question that was burning in the back of her mind, one she needed an answer to before she could agree. “Are you doing this with anyone else?”

The shake in Paige’s head was immediate, her stare determined. “No. absolutely not, I can’t even think of doing this with anyone that isn’t you. What if… what if we just do what couples do, but we just hold off on the whole labels and public part of it.”

“Like a secret?” Maya’s voice was hardly above a whisper, as though she was already practicing. Paige’s head dipped.

“Well, that makes it sound bad.” She muttered, her voice almost shameful. “I just think it’s best if it’s just for us.”

Maya took a beat, almost deep in thought. Then a hand that wasn’t occupied by Paige’s grip reached out, a finger lifting Paige’s head back up. The smile that was once on Paige’s face returned upon seeing Maya’s expression, a kind smile on as the brunette leaned in so her lips were next to the older girl’s ear. “Lucky for you, I’m good with secrets.”

⎯⎯

January 2020

“Don’t open your eyes yet.” Maya heard Paige remind her as the two of them trudged through the Minnesota snow, which had turned to a bunch of gross white slush. Maya really hoped Paige knew how to navigate after living here her whole life, because she had learned quickly how prone she was to slipping on the icy pavement and her shoe choices were not known for their traction.

“Well, you’re covering them, so I don’t think that really matters.” Maya responded, her hands shoved into the pockets of her tan trench coat for warmth. Finally, they came to a stop. Maya heard a car door open, followed by Paige’s glove covered hands being lifted from her eyes. And she gasped.  

When Paige told her she was taking her on their first official date, she wasn’t sure exactly to expect. She was more than happy doing their usual casual hangout, but Paige was insistent she was going to do something big. And that she did, just two weeks after Christmas and three weeks after their conversation defining what they were.

Paige had somehow turned the back of her car into a full picnic spread, filled with both of their fast food favorites (including Culver’s cheese curds, a food that had become weirdly sentimental to them) as well as a couple of containers filled with her favorite fruits, all placed on top of a red and white checkered blanket. 

Paige scratched the back of her neck, her face flushed (whether it was from being flustered or from the bitter Minnesota cold was a mystery).“I know it’s not like… super fancy or anything. I was gonna do an actual picnic and then I realized we live in Minnesota and it’s fucking cold and…”

Maya wrapped an arm around Paige’s torso, pulling her in for a hug and shutting her up from her fit of rambling.“Paige, it’s perfect.”

Paige melted into the hug, towering over her and yet still seeming uncharacteristically vulnerable in this moment. The two of them crawled into the car, Paige reaching in the front seat carefully as to not bump her head. “I also have these for you.”

Maya would have been perfectly happy with the current setup, but Paige was never one to settle for just good. Because here she sat, a bouquet of tulips in hand with Trader Joes plastic wrap still around them. “You told me these were your favorite once.”

Maya nodded, her smile so big she feared her cheeks would hurt later. She figured the idea of getting flowers from a romantic partner was something made up by Hallmark to sell their movies, having never seen her dad or any of her friends partners give their girls flowers. Clearly it was different when the person you’re seeing is another girl. “I love them.” Maya confirms, offering a peck to her pale cheek. “Never knew you were such a romantic.”

Maya leaned in to properly kiss the blonde while pulling the door shut. She had enough of the winter cold, much preferring to be warmed up by her girl. “You’re not worried about what my dad will say if I come home with flowers?”

“Just hide them in your tote bag before you get to your room.” Paige shrugged, gesturing to the bag Maya brought with: a souvenir from a bookstore in New York years ago. “You know, once we both open about us, Imma get you all the flowers in the world.”

“Oh really?” Maya inquired, already liking the sound of that. “Does that mean I’ll also be able to kiss you in public instead of the back of your car?” 

Paige fakes a pout, gesturing to the very minimal space between their bodies before cupping the younger girl’s face. “Are you saying you don’t want this?”

Maya scoffs. “I never said that,” she says in a whisper, evoking a small hum of approval from the blonde as she pulls her in by her shirt to kiss her.

Maya is pretty sure at this point that she loves Paige, but she knew better than to say it. She could worry about that later. For now she was content lying in the backseat with Paige, unbothered by how cramped this setup actually was in reality. She found when it was just the two of them, nothing else seemed to matter that much.

⎯⎯

“You’ve found yours already?”

The two girls sat side by side on Paige’s bed, one arm of Paige’s around the smaller girl’s shoulders and the other scrolling her own laptop. They were engaging in one of Paige’s least favorite activities: shopping. Correction: she liked shopping typically. She hated dress shopping. 

Perhaps one of the better parts of switching cities, and therefore switching schools, is that Maya now went to a school that allowed both juniors and seniors to go to prom. Though Maya typically leaned towards a more simple style, gravitating towards simple jeans and sweaters, she always looked forward to the opportunity to dress up in a full fancy gown. And here was her dress: a deep plum shade, fitted at the top and flowy at the bottom, with just enough tulle to feel like a prom dress without going overboard. “I think it’s pretty! I like the purple.”

“Mmmm, me too. You’ll look so good in that.” Paige hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck her not-quite-girlfriend’s cheek. “I’m just not really drawn to any of these.” She gestured to her own screen, which featured various dresses from Windsor. 

Maya laughed while resisting the urge to remind Paige that she has looked wildly uncomfortable in every situation she’s been made to wear a dress and that there were alternatives. Perhaps these thoughts were just clouded by Maya’s undeniable urge to see Paige in a suit. 

“It’s not until May. You’ve got time.” Maya decided to drop the topic altogether. They both heard the rushing of water in the pipes in the house, likely from Paige’s dad and stepmom getting ready for bed in the bathroom downstairs. Suddenly remembering that accidentally falling asleep in contacts would not be a smart idea, Maya wove herself out from under Paige’s grasp and walked to where her overnight bag sat on Paige’s cluttered desk. “I still cannot believe your dad let me sleep over the night before your game.”

Paige shrugged “Game’s not til one, I got time. Besides, I told him you’re my good luck charm.” The last comment prompted a sharp turn of the head from Maya, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Paige, I love you, but that’s the gayest shit I think you could have said to him.” Maya giggles, mindful enough to keep her voice low. It doesn’t take a super mindful person to see how Paige stopped at this statement, staring at the other girl with wide eyes. Confused, Maya tries to recount what she could have done to spark this reaction. All I said was…

“Oh. Um…”

The room was quiet enough that both girls could hear each others breath clear as day. Hell, Maya was pretty sure if it were summer she would be able to hear the cicadas from outside all the way from here. This wasn’t how she pictured saying it: her fantasies usually saw her and Paige dating for at least two months before they said. Even if she felt it now. Even if she’s pretty sure she’s felt this even before they kissed for the first time. 

“Say it again.”

Her voice broke through the silence, powerful enough to lift Maya’s head from where it had dipped. Paige was sat up, her arms pushing her to a standing position. “Say what again?” Maya asked, her voice wavering as she watched Paige step closer with an unreadable expression.

“The first part.” Another step closer. 

“Paige, lets just drop it.” Maya begged, feeling her eyes begin to water a bit with embarrassment. Naturally this whole thing had to come to an end at some point - she wasn’t lovesick enough to believe that a high school fling would last forever. She just wished it wouldn’t be this soon, all because of a slip of tongue. 

“Please.” Paige’s voice was hushed, yet firm as she planted herself right in front of the other girl, her height towering over. The lack of space made Maya feel short of breath - being near Paige had that effect on her. Especially when she looked at her the way she was now, as if she was hungry for every word she spoke. 

“I love you.” It comes out more as a question, even though it was one of the things Maya was most sure of in that moment. She watched Paige’s expression, which did not seem nearly as scared as she had been envisioning. “I didn’t even know I was saying it, you don’t have to say it back-”

The end of the sentence was soon lost to a fierce kiss, Paige grabbing both sides of her face as if she could slip away at any moment, yet still gentle as though Maya was the most precious thing on this earth. Through her shock, Maya’s reflexes acted quick enough to place a hand on Paige’s chest, positioning herself on the tips of her toes to give Paige easier access. Paige broke the kiss, still close enough that Maya could feel every breath as the other girl put their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Paige said softly, a shy smile on her lips. Her thumb moved to wipe the one tear that had escaped Maya’s eyes away, before kissing where it once was. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated, kissing a new area of her face after each affirmation before returning back to her lips. 

⎯⎯

February 2020

Maya had been given the opportunity to watch Paige play basketball numerous times before, but there was something especially special about watching her play at her school. Perhaps it made her a traitor, but she loved cheering her girl on with the Bueckers family from the bleachers, watching the student section chant about how “overrated” she is (as if the game was even close).

Hopkins secured a near 30 point win, an event well worthy of celebration. Maya stood back as Paige made her way out of the locker room, allowing her to greet and hug them before turning to her. Paige after a good game was one of Maya’s favorite versions of her; there was something about the tired yet confident grin on her face as she made strides towards her, wrapping her in a big hug.

“Great job P,” Maya’s compliment was muffled by her position against Paige’s chest. They pulled away, very aware of the blonde’s family nearby, but Paige’s smile was unmistakably smitten. Thankfully, her dad and stepmom seemed to be fairly oblivious, and if they weren’t they didn’t show it. 

“Paige, that last assist was incredible.” A voice appeared from behind them, followed by the strong scent of vanilla perfume mixed with Old Spice deodorant. A body weaved themselves between the two girls, and Maya immediately knew who it was: Paige’s teammate Jaz.

Jaz was beautiful, she couldn’t deny it. Long, impossibly silky black hair was put up in a ponytail that looked messy enough to appear effortless, but not sloppy. Her Hopkins jersey had been replaced by baggy gray sweats and a red tank that paired well with her warm skin. She would probably appreciate this beauty a lot more if it wasn’t incredibly obvious that Jaz was obsessed with Paige, her efforts to flirt obvious to everyone except the subject of Jaz’s adoration.

“Thank you Jaz. You did a great job too,” Paige grinned back, her compliment as general as possible. Though Jaz was definitely not a bad player typically, her shot was most certainly off in this game (not that Maya was paying attention to that or anything). Still, the other girl beamed.

“Are you going with the team to Chik-fil-a?” She asked, her hand grazing Paige’s back. “I got my car with me, I can give you a ride if you need?”

Good God, she couldn’t be more obvious if she tried, Maya thought as she watched Paige shake her head and stepped slightly to the side, away from her touch.“I think I’m going with my family and Maya out to dinner,” At the mention of her name, Paige gestured towards the shorter girl prompting Jaz to turn around. “Jaz, this is my friend Maya.”

That was maybe the first time Maya had been remotely bothered by being referred to as Paige’s friend, even if that’s technically what they still were. It felt like fuel for Jaz, as if Paige was free to be hit on. 

Jaz looked at Maya as if she had just appeared and hadn’t been standing here this entire time. One perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked up, her hand reaching out to touch Maya’s shoulder. “It’s so nice to meet you! You are stunning! Paige, why did you never tell me your friend was so pretty!”

Maya smiled at the compliment, although something in her tone felt like it wasn’t entirely genuine. Maya convinced herself that she was just being bitter, swallowing her ill feelings and mustering a perky, “Thank you, you played great.” 

Jaz gave a closed lipped smile in return before returning to Paige. “Well I gotta go, but I’ll see you in practice tomorrow right?”

It was only when the two of them began their dark and cold walk to the senior parking lot that Maya brought it up. “She was totally flirting with you.” The brunette stated, her tone matter-of-fact and somewhat teasing.

“What, Jaz?” Paige appeared shocked, an emotion that Maya found incredibly hard to believe considering the performance the girl just put on. “Nah, ion think so.”

“That was incredible, Paige. You’re so great.” Maya gushed in an airy voice. Sure, it sounded nothing like Jaz, but it was fun. “It’s fine, I just think it’s funny.”

Paige smirked, cocking her head slightly. “Really? You sound a little jealous.”

“Me? No way.” Maya said. She never considered herself the jealous type - she still wouldn’t, despite the small twinge of annoyance seeing Jaz constantly hit on Paige. It’s not like it was the other girl’s fault - Paige appears to be completely available. “Hey, I would do the same thing if I were her.”

“You did.” Paige reminded, scanning the parking lot quickly to ensure it had cleared out as much as she believed before wrapping an arm around the other girl and leaning close enough for only the two of them to hear. “And for the record, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m kinda crazy about you, sweet girl.”

Maya felt her face get hot. Deep down, she knew that Paige was hers. She was not the jealous type. 

At least that’s what she told herself over and over on the way to the car and to the restaurant. 

⎯⎯

Post game meals with Paige were always celebratory - Hopkins did have an undefeated season after all. While Paige didn’t celebrate with her family and Maya after every game, she did often enough for Maya to expect the blonde to be in good spirits. Until one game in mid February. 

“Coach tore into me about missing some rebounds.” Paige grumbled, her posture slouched in the Chipotle booth as she picked at her burrito bowl. “Went on and on about how that won’t go too well for me at UConn.”

Maybe it’s because Maya didn’t fully understand basketball, but this was absurd to her. I mean, Hopkins still won - the game was just a little closer than any of them would have liked. However, she knew she would never completely understand. She knew all there was to say was “I’m sorry.” 

“No, she’s right,” Paige muttered, eyes not meeting Maya’s kind ones.

“It was one rough game, P. You still won. You just gotta do what you’ve always done - learn from your mistakes and grow,” her dad chimed in from his spot next to Maya. Drew, Paige’s little brother, was seemingly too interested in his quesadilla to care about this discussion. 

“I just gotta be better.” Paige shook her head, her eyes fueled with intensity.

“You’ve always bounced back, P. You got this.” Maya encouraged, hoping that Paige had reached a point of acceptance with the day’s events. 

Little did she know what would follow.

March 2020

It only took two days after that game for Paige to begin forgetting texts. Maya didn’t think too much of it at first, chalking it up to her basketball practices ramping up as the team prepared for the State Tournament. A slightly longer response time was no issue worth sweating over.

But then Paige stopped reaching out how she usually did. She no longer asked Maya to run stupid errands with her, even if that was the only time she had in a days stretch to see her. And every time Maya would ask if she could watch Paige shoot, or if they could do homework together, it was met with some form of an excuse. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been a little busier lately, that’s all.”

Maya sighed as Paige gave an excuse over their phone call that she had heard too many times at this point. A month ago, she could have never pictured Paige declining plans with her without offering an alternate time. Now, Maya felt like a pathetic fangirl with the way she always had to reach out to Paige, trying to find cracks in her schedule. Sure, she knew that Paige had a state championship to prepare for, but basketball had never completely stopped the two of them from seeing each other before. It had been nearly two weeks since she had seen even a glimpse of the blonde, and she felt like she was going crazy trying to decide if she was just being overly clingy or if her suspicions were correct. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” Maya asked, searching desperately for any semblance of reassurance. She heard Paige sigh through the phone, a sound that tightened the knot that had been woven in her stomach for days now. 

“Nothing is wrong.” Paige replied, her tone not entirely convincing, before adding, “How about I take you to the movies on Sunday night?”

Ok, now we’re getting somewhere, Maya thought. “Ok yeah, I’d like that. Pick me up at 5?”

“Of course.” Maya swore she could hear a small smile. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you.”

The call dropped, Maya staring at the lock screen on her phone: A collage of recent photos: some included friends from home, some included family (including one photo of her and her parents together that she could never bring herself to delete). Many of them included Paige, a collection of candid shots of the basketball star as well as photos Bob Bueckers had taken post games. She stared at the way Paige leaned towards her, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle piece, a small sign to them that they belonged to each other even if nobody else knew it. A small rush of comfort flooded her system as she was reminded that this Paige, the one in the photos, would never dream of hurting her. 

⎯⎯

Maya stood on the sidewalk for five minutes before the text came. 

Paige: sum teammates wanted to run some drills tonight to prep for this weeks game. i gotta miss tonight. so sorry.

Maya wanted nothing more than to throw her phone on the freezing cold asphalt and scream. In her eye she had every right to, because come on. She trusted the other girl wouldn’t dare to cancel plans like this, especially ten minutes after they were supposed to begin in the first place. 

But Maya felt as though there was no point in cursing the blonde out. It was basketball, after all. Loving Paige Bueckers was knowing that her love of basketball would often, if not always, have to come first. Maya was fine with it. She had to be. At least according to the “No worries! Have a good practice!” text she sent back. Though she tried her best to come off cool and collected to the blonde, inside she felt as though there was something behind the scenes, and that she was being made the fool.

⎯⎯

She finally saw Paige again on Thursday night, the basketball player coming over to do some homework together. As Maya’s dad and his girlfriend were out of the house, this then evolved to them sitting in the living room, a news story about the coronavirus spreading across the United States on in the background. Paige paid it no mind, finding comfort in TikTok instead of the girl right next to her on the couch. Though the blonde offered her a couple of chaste kisses, she had still seemed distant. It was killing Maya. 

“Can’t listen to that anymore.” Maya sighs, shutting off the TV altogether after a newscaster predicts that the incoming “two week quarantine” would not end that quickly. Paige doesn’t move, still staring at her phone. Maya observed her, wishing the small gap between them didn’t seem so massive in that moment. “I heard that Ella is throwing a party tomorrow night. Some sort of weird, lets see each other one more time before covid destroys our lives party. Are you going?”

Truthfully, Maya hated big high school parties, feeling as though they never matched up to expectations. Besides, they now remind her of the weeks following her parents separation, where she would go out and get blackout drunk with her friends around Boston. These were times she wished to forget.

However, she knew that Paige enjoyed them when they fit around her basketball obligations. So when Ella, a girl at Maya’s school with many connections to Hopkins students, announced she was hosting Maya jumped at the opportunity to mention it to the other girl. Surely she wouldn’t turn it down, not after the state championship got cancelled. 

“I think I’m missing it.” Paige looked up, her eyes seemingly too engrossed in the art on Maya’s wall (the same art they’ve had up since they moved in almost a year ago) to make eye contact with the other girl. “Dad’s too worried about me going out with everything going on and basketball on the line, so…”

Maya nods, although her heart twinges a little bit with an emotion she struggles to identify. Logically, this explanation made sense. However, with the events of the past month, Maya was just so tired of even trying to change Paige’s mind at this point. “Makes sense.” She muttered, the two of them going back to their respective tasks. They were together physically, but Maya had never felt so far apart from her.

⎯⎯

Bodies filled the basement of Ella’s basement slowly but surely, the overhead lights allowing purple LED lights to take it’s place illuminating the room. Maya stood close to the bar area, sipping slowly on a mango white claw. Judging by the way she winced after each sip, this was not her typical drink of choice. However, Maddie had insisted she stop taking shots of cheap liquor after throwing back three within 10 minutes less than thirty minutes ago. “I love you Maya, but I do not want to have to drag your ass back home if you black out,” Maddie said sternly as she handed her the white claw.

Now, as Maya still had a fourth of her drink left, she was thankful for the interference. Spending the next two weeks stuck in the house already seemed nightmarish enough, she couldn’t imagine how the first day would go with a hangover. At least she was still drinking something - perhaps it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but she felt as though the alcohol was her one relief from the pain Paige was putting her through. Though Maya stood by her dislike of house parties, she was glad to attend this one.

That is until the side door across the room opened once more. Maya tried to listen to the story Maddie was telling her about how her boyfriend’s friends sucked as some song she had definitely heard on Tiktok blared through the speakers, but her other senses disappeared as soon as she saw a ponytail of blonde hair, followed by an all-too-familiar deep voice shouting, “Alright, who’s ready to get fucked up!”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Maya muttered.

It’s actually comical how every time Paige walked in a room every set of eyes seemed to be immediately drawn to hers, including Maya’s. She stood near the door, dressed in a hoodie and jeans and holding a red solo close to her. She laughed along with one of her teammates as one of them cracked a joke, and Maya couldn’t help but grip her White Claw when she realized that Jaz was right next to her, looking at her instead of the person who actually made the joke.

Maddie, confused as to why her friend stopped listening to her story, followed her eyes to the crowd of basketball players. “Paige? Didn’t you say she wasn’t coming.”

Maya’s lips pursed. “She wasn’t. I guess she changed her mind.” She would never in a million years tell Maddie the truth of why she was angry with Paige right now, no matter how bad she wanted to. If it meant not outing Paige, she was fine simmering in her rage alone. 

The weight of two sets of eyes seemed to reach the blonde, because she turned towards the bar before either one could look away. Her eyes met Maya’s quickly, her previous drunken smile gone and a flash of something else on her face immediately - perhaps guilt? Maya broke the staring competition first, setting her drink down and reaching for her purse on the counter as she noted Paige walking towards her out of the corner of her eye. Shit. 

“I just need a minute.” She hastily called out to Maddie, already making a beeline towards the stairs in search of a quieter place to collect herself. She ignores the calls from the host Ella and her own circle of friends as they tell her to stay downstairs, them shutting up on their own as they watch her pass by not with a look of nausea, but with her face flushed and nose scrunched as she holds back tears with all the strength in her. Finally, she finds a bathroom, pulling the door shut before allowing herself to fall apart. 

The first tear drops, hot and heavy on her arm. Her reflection in the mirror looks so helpless, like a deer that has been shot. She hates it, having watched her friends back home go through the same thing and telling herself she would never act like that over someone. But that was before the divorce. That was before the move. That was before Paige. 

Wanting to avoid wiping her eyes in fear of smearing her mascara, she leaned her head down over the porcelain white sink, her arms supporting her as she allowed the tears to continue falling one by one. She didn’t understand why Paige would lie about this. If she couldn’t stand being around her at a crowded party with her teammates, it spoke volumes on where they stood when it was just the two of them. 

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her train of thought, her head lifting. “I’m fine, Maddie.”

“It’s Paige, open up.”

Maya scoffed hearing the determination in Paige’s voice, as if Maya owed her anything. “So funny how your dad changed his mind so fast.”

“Maya, please.” Paige’s volume raised slightly, just a little more desperate. And as much as Maya wanted to ignore Paige like the blonde had for the past few weeks, a part of her wanted an explanation too much to be petty. She gripped the handle, throwing it open. She was greeted by Paige standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of her black joggers. She took one glance at Maya’s bloodshot eyes, tired of fighting the tears pricking at them, and barged into the way too small bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

“What the fuck, Paige.” Maya spewed, her gaze intense. Of course, this would be the exact moment she began to feel the effects of the shots she had taken earlier in the night. At least there was a toilet right behind her if she needed to throw up, which she thought was a real possibility in that moment, just not from alcohol. 

Paige looks away, eyes focusing on the white shower curtain that appeared yellow in the poor bathroom lighting. “I know this looks bad…”

“Looks bad?” Maya laughed, her eyes wide. She knew she looked fucking manic, and she really couldn’t bring herself to care. “You lied to me, Paige. I think you’ve been lying to me for a while. Do you think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been pulling away from me?”

Paige fidgeted with the bottom of her black hoodie. “I just had so much going on with basketball, and other people aren’t making it easy on me. I told you, I wanted to make a name for myself before I came out, and then you told me you loved me.”

The last sentence made the brunettes heart drop, her feigned amused expression replaced by something much darker. “No,” Maya’s voice was hardly above a hoarse whisper, the words replaying in her mind. As if all of this was her fault, just because she had the audacity to fall in love. “You are not turning this on me right now.”

Paige’s hand made a fist as her eyes shut for a moment, appearing to hold back her frustration before making actual eye contact for the first time in their conversation. “Everything just started feeling so serious and I got scared. I’m scared.”

Maya heard the way her voice broke at the last two words, and in any other situation she would have done anything to comfort her. A part of her still wanted to.“You said it back, I said you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Paige clarified, though her previous eye contact wavered. “Everything is just a lot right now, and I’m worried I’ll never be able to give you what you need.”

“I’m not asking you to make me your girlfriend right now, Paige.” Maya forced herself to quiet down, afraid that Ella and her friends could be within earshot of the bathroom and not trusting the quality of her walls enough. “I’m asking you to talk to me, to not cancel on me last minute and make up some bullshit excuse.”

“It was not bullshit.” Now it’s Paige’s turn to raise her voice, something she had never done to her before. She threw her hands in the air, and they made their way to the top of her head. “You were the one who’s been weird about us being private, acting like it’s not enough.”

“Because you haven’t been treating us like we’re private, Paige. You’ve been treating us like a secret.”

“You said you were good with secrets.” Paige defended, though unless Maya was just seeing what she wanted to see there was a sliver of guilt that crossed her expression as well. 

“Not when I become one!” Maya couldn’t help but get flashbacks to their first conversation about labels - at the time, exclusive friends with benefits seemed like a great idea. Now? Not so much. “I get if you don’t want people to know about us, but lately its like you don’t even want people to know we’re friends.”

“That’s not true!”

“Then why can’t we hang out like we used to?” Paige’s mouth opened, but no noise came out. She had finally made the Paige Bueckers speechless, just not in the way she hoped. 

“I still want you, I promise.” Paige answered, the actual question left ignored. It felt like every bit of patience Maya had for Paige had been chipped away by this conversation, and this sentence was the final blow.

“You should act like it then.” Everything in the room, from the glare of the lights to the presence of the girl in front of her, was suddenly too much, and she felt herself fall so her back was supported by the sink, her arms supporting her. “Can you please just give me some space right now?”

“Maya, please can I just…” There were tears beginning to form in Paige’s eyes, tears Maya couldn’t see from where her eyes were trained on the tile beneath them.

“Just go.” Maya’s voice was flat, a low edge to it as she willed the room to stop spinning. From the haze, she heard a sigh, felt a body move past her, and felt the draft as the bathroom door opened and shut immediately after. 

It was the longest conversation her and Paige had in over a week, and yet she had never felt like she knew her less. 

Her short trip to the bathroom ended up lasting about 10 more minutes after Paige left as she tried to regulate her breathing. She hated herself for how her brain seemed to go back to fixating on the way Paige sounded when she said “I still want you”, even though her actions had made her feel the opposite. 

She was tired, and being tired meant being delusional. She needed to go back home and sleep. Or she needed more alcohol. One of the two. After fixing her makeup the best to her ability with only water, she opened the door, greeted with the faint sound of Drake from the basement. However, in her hurry to get out of the bathroom, she found herself going down the wrong end of the hallway, towards the master bedroom which Ella announced earlier was firmly off limits instead of the set of stairs. 

She was more than willing to correct her mistake upon realizing until she heard a giggle, followed by a familiar sickly sweet voice say, “Paige, look at me.”

At this point the name Paige was like a magnet to Maya, always drawing her attention no matter what, although her heart dropped at the way it came out of the girl’s mouth. Against her better judgement, she took a step towards the door, which was cracked so it was half open. She had to crane her head to see the full picture, but the second she did she sincerely wished she had just turned around.

Paige and Jaz sat on one side of the bed, backs turned so she could only make out some movements. If Jaz was already beautiful when sweaty and tired after a game, she was absolutely radiant now - her skin glistened under a silver sparkly top, her jeans flattering her tall frame perfectly even when sitting.

Jaz wore her dark hair down, yet Maya could still see how her eyes closed partially in bliss as she leaned in closer and closer to Paige’s face like a prey that just caught her target, brushing a hair that escaped her ponytail out of her face and purring, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time. You know I have.”

Maya felt the whole world stop. She couldn’t think about much, all she knew was she had to go. 

Her head pounded as she raced back down the hallway away from the bedroom, no longer attempting to hold back the tears that had been threatening her. She wasn’t quite sure if it was from the alcohol or her crying, but she knew that she needed to get out of that house now. 

Scanning the basement through watery eyes, she quickly found Maddie, whose planned angry words about how Maya abandoned her were thrown away as she saw the poor girl. Pulling her by the arm, Maddie weaved her way through (perks of having tall friends), Maya stumbling behind. She could feel the bass of the music course through her body, yet the lyrics fell on deaf ears. All she could focus on were broken promises, promises that clearly should have never been made.

She would forever owe Maddie after this night. She owed her for ordering them an Uber, ushering her in as they escaped the brutality of Minnesota winter and hurt feelings. She especially owed her for not asking questions, simply looking at her with a look of concern, yet understanding. Maddie may be the straightest person she’s ever met, but the girl wasn’t stupid.

On the other hand Maya, despite her GPA and PSAT score to prove the contrary, had never felt more idiotic in her life. She replayed every chapter of her and Paige, trying to discover when and how she had missed the signs that Paige was chasing Jaz while being with her. 

Her phone buzzed five times in rapid succession, each one bringing a new pulse to her head. Lowering her brightness, she checked. 

Paige: where did you go

Paige: please can we just talk

Paige: i fucked up so bad

Paige: i don’t want this to be the end of us

Paige: i love you so much Maya

She choked back a sob as she read the last message, old photos of her and Paige still staring at her as she read the texts piled on her lockscreen. It felt like they were taunting her, a harsh reminder of what she came so close to having. She wanted to believe Paige when she said she loved her, she really did. But at this point, she had run out of excuses for her. She typed back a simple, Saw you with Jaz. 

Paige: what did you see

The Uber stopped outside Maya’s house, giving her time to think of a reply as she thanked the driver and stepped towards her front door, thankful that her dad seemed to be asleep and that she wouldn’t have to answer any questions for now. 

It was only after she somehow made her way to her bed, not bothering to take off her clothes for the night (that was a tomorrow problem), that she typed out, Enough to know that I really don’t want to see you, and pressed send. 

And for the first time since Maya had met Paige, that statement was true. 

⎯⎯

April 2020

Maya found it funny how the usually wholesome streets of the Minneapolis suburbs could feel so eerie. It had been two weeks into quarantine (which now had no end in sight), and the city had quickly fallen into some sort of routine in the chaos - online school during the day, DIY projects and Netflix at night, with some cautious walks sprinkled in. Now it was approaching 6:30pm, the sun preparing to set, and Maya was alone as she approached the tall figure waiting for her at the park.

“I can’t stay long. It took me forever to convince my dad to let me leave in the first place.”

Paige perked at the sound of her, turning around to face the girl. Her hair was lightly tossed by the wind as she took one careful step towards the girl, as if she were a deer and not someone who she used to sing love songs in the car with.

“I just need enough time to explain.” Paige began, staring at Maya for permission to begin speaking. Maya gave this to her in the form of a gentle nod. “I get why you’re upset. I would be upset too. What you saw on Friday … that wasn’t as bad as it looked. Jaz saw me leave the bathroom, and she said I looked upset. So she pulled me into that bedroom and um… she knows about us. I guess we weren’t that subtle.” Paige laughs at the end, though it’s clear to Maya that she finds nothing about what she said funny.

“Okay.” Maya says, “So how did you go from that to that?”

“I told her what I did and um…” Paige inhales, looking up towards the sky for a moment where a bird is soaring above her, “She started saying that maybe I should be with someone who understands the pressure of basketball better.”

Ouch.

“And then she said that she understood me and all this stuff. And then she leaned in, and um, I’m pretty sure that’s what you saw. But I need you to believe me when I say nothing else happened. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t kiss her knowing what I feel for you.”

In Maya’s heart, she knew that Paige had to at least be telling some version of the truth. For the past couple of weeks, her phone had received probably around 15 different texts from the other girl, practically begging Maya to say anything to her, even if it meant getting cussed out again. Maya finally decided that it was more worth it to get some form of closure than to ignore Paige and remain unaware of why she would do this all to her. Paige immediately agreed when she suggested they meet at a park only a few blocks down from Maya’s place, even if it meant Paige had to drive to the confrontation. 

Maya’s firm stance against Paige faltered especially after seeing the look in her blue eyes, that wide eyed look as if she was the only thing she cared about seeing. But then she remembered that night, her converse clad feet planted on the hardwood as she watched Jaz lean closer with a determined look, and she remembered how she couldn’t see Paige’s face. For all she knew, Paige had given the same look of adoration to the other girl as well.

“I want to believe you,” Maya’s voice is soft, providing some relief to the tension in Paige’s face. “But I just can’t right now. Not when you lied to me about going to that party in the first place.”

Paige’s head dipped, her voice dripping with guilt as she spoke, “I fucked up, I know, but I swear that wasn’t the reason.”

“Then what was it?” Maya asks, a surprising level of calmness in her voice. Paige failed to respond, her upper lip biting down as her eyes began to water slightly. “I thought that as your best friend, you would care about me enough to tell me if you wanted to stop this.”

“Maya, I never wanted to end this.” Paige interjects, stepping closer. 

“I didn’t either. I still don’t.” Maya replies, her volume higher now. She takes a deep breath, taking a moment to shut her eyes to prevent her emotions from overcoming her. “But maybe now I have to.”

The look in Paige’s eyes would come to haunt Maya for years down the line: one of anguish, the sting in her eyes escalating rapidly. “What?” Paige’s voice was hoarse, before escalating in desperation, her hand reaching for the younger girls, “Maya, please don’t do this.”

Maya shoved her hands in her pockets. “You’re going off to UConn next year, and I’ll still be here. and I don’t know if I trust you enough to not do something while you’re there.”

Paige blinked a few times, her expression confused, then angry, appearing not unlike she did when arguing with the referees at her games. “Maya, I didn’t do anything with her. I didn’t do anything wrong. You kinda need to be in a relationship in the first place to cheat.”

The last sentence hit like a blow to the chest, Maya taking a step back as if she had been physically shoved by the venom in Paige’s tone. Any form of reassurance they had given each other, all of the promises that it was just them, came back to taunt in her. Because what was so real to Maya was clearly just fun for Paige. Guilt immediately rushed back through Paige’s expression, her eyes horrified at what she just said, but it was too late.

“Nice to know this was all nothing for you,” Maya’s voice was cool as she nodded sarcastically, beginning to walk backwards in the direction of her house. Her eyes never left Paige, even as the blonde girl continued stepping forward to follow her.

“Maya, I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said it.” Maya’s voice remained calm. Inside she was fuming, but she found that when she spoke she no longer had the same angry energy she did that night at the party. If she’s going to try to make me feel like shit, so will I, Maya decided bitterly. “I found out my dad cheated on my mom that weekend. The day after the party”

Another beat of silence. “What?” Maya scanned Paige’s face, watching her defensiveness mold into horror. Upon further inspection, Maya noted how Paige’s eyes looked especially tired, dark circles forming like clouds underneath them. “Maya, what are you-.”

“I called my mom because I was stressed about this whole COVID thing, was worried about my trip in April being cancelled. I asked her to visit me in Minnesota, and she said she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t tell me why until I begged.” Maya stared off, thinking about the way her mother, who she had never seen cry despite encouraging her daughter to embrace her emotions, had sounded so wounded as she explained why the divorce happened. It left an impossibly bitter taste on her tongue. “My dad started seeing his girlfriend two months before they broke up. She never told me until now to protect him. I don’t know if she ever would have.”

“I’m so sorry, Maya.” Paige’s voice cracked, speaking in a hushed voice as if speaking any louder would shatter the other girl. “Ion know what to say.”

Maya couldn’t help but roll her eyes, because of course she didn’t know what to say. “So I’m sorry if what you did to me is a little fresh right now.”

“Wait.” Paige called as Maya backed up, her regret evident. 

“Can you please give me some space, Paige?” Maya is ashamed at how her voice breaks, her effort to remain strong through this conversation now all for nothing. Faking a cough, she muttered, “I think you’ve hurt me enough.” 

She began to walk away when she heard her speak again. “I’m going to Maryland next week,” Paige said, her tone matter of fact. “Quarantining with Azzi for a bit.”

Paige had spoken about Azzi Fudd to Maya before, explaining just how similar they were and telling her that “Azzi will love you”, as if it was a given that the two would meet. She’s unsure if Paige would make such a statement at the moment. She knew the two of them were close, but quarantining together? Across the state?

“For how long?” Maya asked.

“It’s going to be at least a couple of weeks, maybe a month? I’m not sure.” A month? It’s not like she particularly wanted to see Paige right now, and there’s no reason Paige would go out of her way to tell her, but still. To hear Paige say it so matter of fact after everything they went through, as if she was the last to know, stung a bit in a way she was not anticipating. “I want to see you before I leave for UConn.”

Paige looked at her as if she wanted to ask if she wanted that too, but was too afraid of the answer. In a way, this reminded Maya of the first night they met; both unsure of how to talk to each other, exchanging stiff words and stares at the dinner table instead. Except now everything had changed.

With a small smile, Maya shrugged, “Anything’s possible.” 

The buzz of her phone in her hand took her out of the moment, a reminder from her dad that they agreed on her being home by 7 (as if all COVID germs died after sundown). She shivered, her body numb not by the temperature but the prospect of what she was about to do. She took one last look at Paige; the way her blue UConn long sleeve paired with her blonde hair, her lanky figure that one fit perfectly with her shorter one, and those damn eyes.

“My dad says I need to get back home. Thank you for meeting me here. I, um, I hope you have a safe trip.”

She turned her back quick enough so that Paige couldn’t see the tears beginning to pour, beginning the 10 minute walk back to her home surrounded by the whistle of the wind and the setting sun. Something about it felt so final, like this would be the last time she would see Paige for a long, long while. Maybe ever.

⎯⎯

Paige stayed in Maryland for three months. Maya hadn’t even known she returned to the suburbs until she was already gone, posting stories from her first week at UConn. Not a text. Not a single word. The younger girl decided to mute Paige’s posts and stories at the end of the year, realizing that nothing good could come out of seeing the other girl supposedly live her best life at her dream school while she was stuck at home. Maybe Paige would reach out on breaks, and then Maya could reassess the situation.

She didn’t.

Quarantine was rough on her already, her house in suburbia not nearly as picture perfect as it seemed. She could barely look at her dad, using any excuse to leave dinners early or get out of “family activities” altogether (she refused to acknowledge Jenn as a part of her family).  She hated how this curse put on women in her family kept following her. It was in the way she was now quarantined with her fathers affair partner, the same one he had been dropping hints about wanting to marry. It was in the way her mother pleaded with her on the phone to please not let this affect her relationship with her father, though how could it not?

The knife was dug deeper when she passed the prom dress collecting dust in her closet, remembering cheek kisses and hands brushing her shoulder like she was still in Paige’s bed buying it with her. When she began making grocery runs again, she had to make an effort to avoid glancing at the wall of flowers, as doing so would cause her eyes to prick with tears. Hell, she even had to remove multiple songs from her playlists, because of course they had to share the same taste. Songs that she had loved for years were now practically unlistenable. 

Everything was a reminder of how she had done everything right, and yet she was somehow still not enough. Maybe she never would be. 

[marlynnofmany]

Cave Space

The mechanic’s shop was the loudest and dirtiest place I’d seen on this space station so far, and somehow that was comforting. All the ritzy retail stores and elaborate restaurants tried to look as fancy as possible, even the cheap ones. But this place felt honest and straightforward. It had bare concrete floors and the kind of shelf displays that didn’t bother with signs to actually explain what you were looking at. A real mechanic would know.

I had no idea, but I was just here to help haul things. Blip and Blop might have been a better choice if the things in question proved to be heavy, but they were off wrangling jumbo tubs of food and medical supplies with Eggskin, and anyways we had the big hoversled this time. It would probably be fine.

Mimi was talking fast with an employee about manifolds and vents and lots of other words, waving a couple green tentacles while he stood on the rest. The employee was the biggest Heatseeker I could remember seeing, which was still only mid-rib-height on me. He reminded me of the short gym guys from back home, able to build muscle in every direction but up.

A box thumped onto a counter near me. “You here to help lift and pull?”

I found an older human woman grinning at me, wearing a tank top covered in grease and long white hair held back in a ponytail. Also the kind of arm muscle that said she yanked engines out of spaceships for fun.

“Something like that,” I said with a smile. “Gotta make sure nothing falls off the sled.”

She waved a hand. “Ah, we’ll strap it down for you. There’s enough ramps around here to cause problems if we don’t.”

“I bet,” I said, thinking back to the last time I’d chased something important down a hill. “Don’t want to risk any explosions or chemical spills.”

“Or slamming a gear shaft into the side of a building,” she agreed. “There was a bit of a mess the last time someone was sure they didn’t need their stuff tied down.”

I winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure now,” she said, opening the box to pull out multiple smaller boxes, all labeled with arcane terminology and numbers. They rattled as she stocked them on the shelf under the counter. “If they’d asked me, it would have been standard from the start, but what do I know? I’ve only been doing this kind of work for decades, on more planets than I care to count.”

“Sounds exciting,” I said as she finished stocking. “I haven’t been out here all that long by comparison, but there’s always something new to see.” A glance around the shop took in rows of alien technology, a Heatseeker with scales painted silver, and one of those centipede-like people whose species name I didn’t remember. I was pretty sure they were looking at a jetpack display.

“Oh sure, plenty of weirdos out here,” the woman said easily, ripping tape off the box and flattening it. “Though it’s easy to tip over from marveling at the wonders to feeling the kind of intense homesickness that you get when you’re light years away from home.”

“I suppose so.” I’d been pretty lucky on that front, since my alien coworkers were friendly sorts who made me feel welcome. But there were times when the sheer amount of empty space between me and Earth was a little too much to think about.

“You’ve got to find ways to remind yourself of where you come from, and take pride in it,” the older woman said with a pointed finger, like a grandparent giving career advice. “Recreate bits of home while you’re far from it.”

I thought back to the potted plants and sun lamp in my quarters, kept high enough that the cat couldn’t chew on them. “I like to think I do that,” I said. “Do you have a preferred method? Classic Earth songs, googly eyes stuck in funny places?”

She barked a laugh. “Ha! Nothing I’d admit to. But I’ll show you my current favorite touchstone to humanity.” She dug in a pocket.

I stepped closer, curious, as she pulled out something palm-sized. She rested her elbows on the counter and held it up, framed by splayed fingers with appropriate drama.

It was a rock, smooth and shiny like it had been polished by a river and then by a thick layer of varnish, and it was covered in minuscule handprints. All in earthtones, like a cave painting reduced to pocket size: some in silhouettes like tiny hands had pressed mud or ash against the cave wall, and others shadowed by color like the prehistoric artist had chewed charcoal and spat it carefully around their fingers.

(I’d done that in school one day, with one of the cool teachers, who taught us the basics of humanity’s oldest style of airbrushing. It was incredibly messy and trickier than I’d expected. It gave me renewed respect for the artists from eons ago whose artwork had survived into modern times.)

And this was that same thing, made small enough to carry around the galaxy, a tiny reminder of home. “That’s fantastic,” I breathed.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, rubbing at the shine. “I got it from a traveling artist awhile back. If I was in a different line of work, I’d sell clothes with this pattern on them. It’s the kind of thing that makes other Earthlings smile.” She stood up and put it back in her pocket with a wink. “Not like googly eyes, but still good.”

“Yes, still good!” I agreed, smiling. I would have liked to talk more about it, maybe find out where that traveling artist had gone, but Mimi was wrapping up his conversation. A door opened to admit a trio of Heatseekers carrying a huge cylinder that was probably destined for somewhere in the guts of our ship.

“I’ll get the tie-down straps,” said the woman, rummaging under a different section of counter.

“Thanks,” I said, though I don’t think she heard me. The air was full of talk and the sound of clawed feet on concrete. I hurried to take up a position by the controls of the hoversled, making sure it stayed locked in place.

The team worked quickly, and in no time they had it strapped down well enough that it wouldn’t budge even if the gravity cut out completely. (Which had better not happen; I’d had more than enough of that kind of nonsense at the last station.)

Mimi processed the payment, tapping a screen with one tentacle tip and thanking the employees for having this whatsit in stock. I got the impression that it wasn’t the one he’d actually come to get, but it was better in some way or other.

“Thanks again!” I said as we tugged the sled toward the door. I waved at the other human and she waved back, two hands signaling kinship briefly across the room. Then she took her flattened box into the back and I stepped out into the artificial sunlight, looking for signs leading back to the spaceport.

The gravity behaved, and the ramps were no trouble. Blip and Blop were there to help unload the thing. I asked Mimi if he wanted three people to maneuver it into wherever it went, or if I should go put the hoversled away.

He was busy climbing inside of the cylinder with a flashlight, for whatever reason. “Nah, not enough space for everybody,” his gravelly voice echoed. “Let me just — really? Another one?” A faint squeak sounded like he was rubbing a tentacle against the side.

“What is it?” I asked, bending to look inside. Blip and Blop crowded behind me, a jumble of curious muscles and silks.

Mimi grumbled, “This is the third engine part that I’ve gotten with these annoying marks. All from different sources, too. If I ever find out which finger-having species is doing it, we are going to have words.”

Deep inside the cylinder, in a spot that likely would never have been seen by anyone but an agile mechanic, was a patch of handprints. Mimi had already smeared the ones made in grease, but the others looked like they might have been paint. All in earthtones. A cave painting in the depths of a spaceship.

Blip and Blop chorused, “Not it.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. “It’s a mystery.”

~~~

Inspired by this excellent artwork by @letmeinimafairy! It deserved at least one story, if not several.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[bitethedevil]

raphael is not free, he works kinda for his daddy. How does he spend his free time? when there is no soul or contract? no more cringe diary to write?? no more spying?? no more obsession with his dream? just him with fre time

Raphael’s Free Time

I’ve always had a sense that Raphael both works hard and plays hard. I mean look at his house and how it is. When he’s done with work, don’t even think about speaking to him or bothering him. It’s his chill time. Though I also feel like even his chill time is neatly scheduled and he has trouble with not doing anything at all. Even when he’s lounging in his bath or drinking wine on his balcony, his mind is still running. I also feel like he’s the type of person to have side projects, and his side projects have side projects.

There’s a bit of everything, honestly

He is thousands of years old, so I feel like he has learned a bit of everything. A lot of his off time probably goes to research. He has had hundreds of clients with hundreds of different professions and interests, and Raphael is not going to be caught looking stupid.

He learns a bit of everything to know how to better deal with those specific people. I’m thoroughly convinced that he knows a bit about everything and he’s proficient in just about every skill and hobby under the sun. Hunting, fishing, sewing, knitting, gardening, cooking, embroidering, you name it.

He might not like all those things equally, but he knows stuff about it, and he knows how to do it. I don’t think he’s able to deal with not being good at something or not knowing about something. Learning new things and acquiring new skills doesn’t intimidate him.

What he likes

We know from his diaries and some of the books around the House of Hope that he likes to write. He’s constantly writing contracts anyway, so that is not surprising. He likes writing creatively about his own plans and making fanfiction about himself. He writes poetry and songs, and even incorporates that into his contracts, as seen with Yurgir.

He plays music and sings too. He is a bard, after all. I think a lot of his time is spent on that and it seems like something he enjoys. We all know he likes the sound of his own voice, so it makes good sense.

He paints too. It’s not directly proven in the game, but there are painting supplies and an easel at the HoH. If I remember correctly, he mostly paints landscapes. I think that’s interesting considering all the paintings he has of himself. I don’t think he was the one to make the portraits of him. In some psychoanalytical way I think that’s because he is unable to properly capture how he himself is and is only able to see what he wants himself to be, but he enjoys other people’s depictions of himself (given that they fit the image HE has of himself). What he can depict though, is how he sees the world, thus: landscapes. Might just be me overanalysing again. I’ve written more about his portraits here.

All in all, he’s a very creative dude. It’s not really surprising considering that devils are only worth as much as they produce in a way, so even in his free time, he is still making things and being productive, though in another more recreational way. I think he is like that though: he has to do something or he’ll go insane.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[minimomoe]

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Five: Pumpkin Spice

The warmth of Toji’s hand sears through your gloves even in the nipping cold. You look around in the skating rink and see a little girl in a sparkly pink jumpsuit who is doing a camel spin before evolving it into a salchow. Your eyes couldn't even keep up with how many rotations the child was completing, and you weren't sure if cheering her on would distract her or not. You watch in amazement before she realizes that the little girl who’s finally slowing down is Nobara, one of Megumi’s friends. You hadn’t recognized her for a moment because her copper hair was tucked inside of her beanie. 

“That was beautiful,” you compliment and Nobara beams up at you before giving a curtsy. You were about to give another comment before you lost your balance again. You stumbled forward, trying to steady yourself, but fell short and the ice below you was rushing up to your face fast. Luckily for you, Toji was a steady boulder who was quick to hook his hand underneath your arm to prevent you from ending up in the hospital. 

“Thank you,” you giggle. “This is much harder than they make it look,” you say sheepishly when you are finally standing up straight. When Toji invited you out to come skating you agreed without hesitation, then later realized that you had never gotten on ice for any recreational business. You tried to look it up online to prepare, but it was hard if you didn’t have any skates to practice on your own. You were relieved to see that you weren't the only person unable to skate in the rink, but it was still a little embarrassing. 

“Follow my feet,” Toji says, gliding in front of her to grasp both of your hands tightly. Toji wasn’t wearing his usual suits, instead opting for an all grey sweatshirt and pants combo, with a black puffer jacket and beanie to match. It was a simple outfit, one that you had seen a thousand times before on other people, but he looked devastatingly handsome. Suddenly your feet started to shuffle frantically because you were admiring his face instead of following Toji’s feet like he told you. Your face crashes into his chest with a thump that even Toji groans at. You try to pull back but your feet slip again, causing you to make the same mistake. 

You slump in defeat and scowls at the ice below you. You rub your head into his chest, then lift your head up, digging your chin into his sternum to look at him. 

“I suck at this,” you pout. You bat your eyes at Toji and let your arms dangle at your sides while he continues to hold you up from your underarms. “Even the kids are better than me,” you grumble. You look at Yuji who also said he has never skated before, which was true since he was struggling to take baby steps on the ice with the help of Nobara and Megumi when they first came in, but now he was attempting a triple axel because Nobara had dared him to. 

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, an absentminded but affectionate gesture since she couldn’t actually feel the kiss through your hoodie and beanie covering your head, but you warmed up from it nonetheless. 

“You’re doing fine. Yuji’s freakishly good at everything.” 

“He could go to the Olympics at this rate,” you comment, pointing at how he landed yet another obnoxious turn that Nobara suggested. The kid was only ten years old for crying out loud. You groan and turn your forehead back into Toji’s chest again. 

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you want to leave?” Toji sets you right on your feet, his eyes grazing over your body. 

“How could I have been hurt? You’ve been holding my hand or body this whole time,” you laugh, then slowly shuffle to the nearest bench looking into the rink. “I don’t want to leave just yet,” you say, sitting down and stretching out your legs in front of you. Toji occupied the space next to you and you both watched the three of the children race around the rink together. You scoot closer to him, closing the gap between you, then rest your head on his shoulder. You hum along to the Christmas song that is playing overhead, threading your hand under Toji’s that was resting on his thigh. By instinct he brings up your hand to kiss the back of it and you grin in response. You sit quietly and listen to the sound of jingles and laughter for a moment until Toji speaks up. 

“What are your plans for Thanks—“

“Is this the reason why you can’t pick up the phone, you fucker?” A deep voice asks behind the couple, and your eyes widen at the interrupter. He must have been taller than Toji, with tattoos on his face and creeping up his neck, and spiked pink hair to top it off. Toji didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the man. He replies with a simple, “It broke.”

“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it a good one,” the other man grumbles. He finally looks down at you, who Toji scooped and tucked closer to his body. The other man crosses his arms over his chest and whistles.

“What’s this? You actually got yourself a woman now?”

“What do you want?”

“She’s really cute. What’s your name, honey?”

Toji pulls you closer and glares at the man. “Sukuna,” he warns. 

“Sukuna me all you want, I asked some questions first.”

“Baby, this is the bane of my existence. Bane of my existence, this is my baby. Now go back to whatever the fuck you were doing before this.” 

“I was looking for you, asshole. We have a problem,” Sukuna says after winking at you.

You give a small wave of your hand but stay quiet during their interaction. You can see Toji getting increasingly stressed out from the conversation so you rub his thigh consolingly. 

“Can’t. Busy. Take it to Nanami.”

“Nanami is pulling the same shit as you but he’s smart enough to stay inside to avoid me.”

“Gojo then.”

“He’s being disgusting with his girl right now. They’re feeding each other whatever baked goods she made for him this time and rubbing each oher’s noses,” Sukuna shivers. 

“Sounds like you should get yourself a partner,” Toji sighs. 

“Don’t worry about me, I got my eyes on someone. Speaking of partners, are you gonna bring her to the family Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I was getting to that before your big ass showed up.”

“I’d love to go. What should I bring?” You pipe up. 

“Anything you want, sugar, I’m sure it’ll taste amazing,” Sukuna purrs and dodges the arm Toji threw out in an attempt to punch his stomach. 

“Great. That’s settled. Call the kids over so I can drop them off at Nanami’s place as punishment for blocking my number again. We have some work to do.”

“I’ll be fine, Toji. It looks like your…friend needs you,” you smile. 

“Thank you,” Sukuna nods. “Here you go,” he hands you a cafe cup. “The lady in the store gave me a sugary pumpkin spice latte instead of black coffee.”

“Don’t take that,” Toji scowls and snatches the cup from Sukuna. “After I take her back then we can talk. Fuck off.”

“Love you too, baby,” Sukuna teases. He walks down the street hauling Yuji and Nobara on his shoulders and Megumi walking close behind, leaving Toji and you alone to walk to his car. 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Toji says once you get in his car. 

“I want to. I want to meet the rest of your family,” you assure him.

“They’ll love you, but I’m greedy and wanted to spend Thanksgiving alone together.”

“We’ll have some alone time when we leave,” you say, leaning on the armrest and looking at his lips. 

“Oh yeah?”

You hum in response, drifting closer to his face, but place a finger on his lips before you could touch.

“First you should get me a pumpkin spice latte. I really wanted that one,” you grin.

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[sillygoosealert]

Could you please do a follow up to the post you did of Bi-Han yelling at you making you flinch and cry where after Bi-Han made you cry you decide to completely ignore him where you don't talk to him or make eye contact, you leave the room whenever he enters the room, you don't cook for him anymore, don't take baths with him or give him massages and you even start to sleep in separate bedrooms for several weeks now. Bi-Han immediately recognizes that he fucked up bad by getting mad at you when you were only trying to help him so he corners you before you leave the bedroom and tries to forcefully get you to notice by saying something to him even if it's to say hurtful things to him which you don't even do so then he tries to kiss you but you turn your head and even try to push him away from you aggressively and slaps him hard across the face which stuns him long enough for you to run out of the room. Bi-Han eventually comes to his senses and realizes that you don't love him anymore and he breaks down crying in his sleep until he feels the bed dip and arms wrapped around his body bringing his head to your chest where he continues to cry more constantly apologizing to you and asking for your forgiveness. I got inspired by an old episode of the Simpsons where Marge completely ignored Bart after discovering he got caught shoplifting and I wanted to see how you write the scenario since your writing is excellent.

You’re too kind Tehe

Ignoring Bi-Han and making HIM cry (^_-)☆ (how silly)

Thank you so much for the Specific request, it helps me a lot when thinking of how to put things into words <3 ^.^ (and for the compliment, I'll be giddy for weeks ♡)

I made you a nurse again, I’m sorry, it’s just instinct 😔

Also this one is longer than my other ones, so yahoo for me !!

Tw-mental stuff, crying, loneliness, rotting Bi-Han

Bi-Han has been even more stressed out ever since you’re breakdown- because you’ve made sure to take your help out of things. You don’t make him little snacks anymore, not that he ate them but he would eat about anything you touched right now. You don’t bathe with him, making sure he properly took care of himself despite his schedule. Now he starts to find little knots in his hair, and his skin doesn’t feel as nice or clean. His back is filled with knots and is chronically hurting without you offering to give him massages anymore. You don’t even look at him- he didn’t mean to yell, he just..well he didn’t know why he did it either.

He has trouble sleeping after you stopped sleeping in the same bed as him. Sometimes he uses your pillow instead of his because it feels more intimate- something that you would do. He just feels sad and tired, like how you felt. He wanted to fix everything with you when he had the time... He would even move all your stuff back to his room and make breaks so you could have time alone together. He would do a lot right now, but he’s too busy to tell you he misses you and wants you. He doesn’t have time to be the man you need, but he’ll try if that means you’ll stay in the same room with him.

He finds you walking into where Lin Kuei keeps the medical supplies, so he takes his chance to tell you how he misses you- and he wants to give you a genuine apology. But when he corners you you freak out. Telling him to leave you alone, that you don’t want to talk or be near him..? He didn’t do anything that bad, why won’t you just talk to him...

‘Leave me alone, we’re not together, there is nothing between us.’

‘Listen to reason, I beg of you to reconsider. I miss you. Please come back to our room…’ you don’t move, and you look docile enough to move towards. He cups your face, he didn’t realize he leaned in until you pushed him away and ran out of the room. Oh, okay..

This does not make him stop, as he continues to try to re-court you into a relationship. But he can’t, you won’t let him. He’s in his bathroom now, sobbing as he tries to recreate the bath you used to make for him. He knows you used bath salts, and some oil or something… but he doesn’t think it feels as relaxing compared as when you do it- nor does it smell as good. He finishes his bath and dresses in the pajamas you said would help him sleep better, this is the first time he’s tried them out. He wishes he listened to you better, they are quite nice.

He lays in his bed as he cries into your old pillow, it doesn’t smell like you anymore. It just smells like swear and tears- his sweat and tears. He curls into the fetal position and shakes hard, his breath is coming out in harsh, jagged, moments. He almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door, but it’s persistent and hard.

He wasn’t going to open the door until you asked him to, he didn’t want to make you reconsider your visit. He opens the door only slightly before going back to sitting on his bed. You walk in and close the door behind you.

‘You look a mess..’ you say this to lighten the mood, but also out of worry. You wipe away some tears and lean your head against his shoulder.

‘I’m not mad at you by the way…’ you whisper, then he breaks down again. He didn’t mean to, he never means to.

‘Shh..it’s okay..’ you’re laying down with him now, his head is held close to your chest. He knows he’s holding you tight, but he’s scared, he’s scared to let go.

He falls asleep like that, close to you. He missed you

[oinkoink321]

Blue lock boys watching a romance K-drama with you!

Bllk boys x Fem!reader 

Featuring: Itoshi Rin, Chigiri Hyoma, Yukimiya Kenyu, Bachira Meguru, Nagi Seishirou, and Hiori Yo!

Warnings: nothing, maybe a bit of angst (on hiori’s part) but don’t worry it’ll get better :) However,  this is like my 2nd time writing and posting, so some of the characters might be ooc. If there’s any mistakes, feel free to let me know :) Anyways, enjoy! 

—————————————————————

Rin Itoshi 💙

Honestly at first he acts like he isn’t interested and thinks it’s the stupidest thing ever. Like he’ll literally be like “Ew why do you watch this stuff, it’s so corny” (and lukewarm). He usually watches horror movies/shows so romance  k-dramas never really appealed to him. 

However, the more you watched them…the more interested he would get. He’s slowly but surely start to learn the story and end up watching with you, but when you tease him about it, he goes “ugh no, I don’t even care about this stupid show.” But he continues to binge it with you.

Then he also  gets upset when you watch it without him. (But he won’t ever admit that). Also, I can see him getting jealous of the main/2nd lead of the drama if you gush over them, or anyone in the show for that matter. He’d be like “if you like them so much why don’t you go to Korea and date them instead??” 💀💀

Deep down, he really does enjoy watching the show with you and he’d want to recreate some of the cute moments in the show. (He would never tell you tho). Honestly, I can see him silently fangirling when the 2 main love interest finally get together and they’re all happy. 

He also likes cuddling with you when you guys are watching, it makes him feel so safe and secure. When the main couple kisses on screen or anything, he’ll get all flustered and would want to kiss you in the moment too <3 

—————————————————————

Chigiri Hyoma 🩷

This man definitely watches k-dramas. Probably a big fan of them too. I can definitely imagine him watching them with his sister and them bonding over that.

Anyways, he probably has a cute lil movie night set up when you watch together. Like there’s snacks, a blanket, and tons of cuddling. I can also see you guys doing face masks (the skincare kind lol) while watching too. He’d also buy the skincare and makeup products they have in the show too. 

He’s also probably gonna talk to you a lot about the drama if he particularly likes it. He definitely follows the actors on insta and stalks them. (You stalk them together).  He definitely also takes tons of inspiration from the outfits, makeup, and accessories from the show, he’d probably get you both matching stuff. Or maybe similar clothes to the main couple! 

Also, if you fall for anyone in the show, he’s gonna tease you about it, he’ll be like “awww what? Am I not pretty enough for you? I can be 10x better than them.” Also, if you get flustered at something the love Interest did to the main character, he’s probably gonna do it to you one day too. 0//////0 

If something romantic happens during the show, like if the couple kisses, he’ll lean in and kiss you too. <333 anyways, he’s a 10/10 to watch kdramas with. 

—————————————————————

Yukimiya Kenyu 🧡

Honestly, he’ll definitely watch with you, but not cuz he likes it too (he does), but to learn from it. 

He’s the type of boyfriend that would want to be perfect for you, to meet your standards and well, to be your #1 (my heart ughh ). Out of all the guys,I feel like he’d be like the most like a k-drama love interest. He’s a gentleman, sweet, definitely popular with the ladies, and handsome. He definitely brags to you how you guys are basically a k-drama couple. 

Anyways, I can see him trying to learn about the drama so he can talk with you if you’re super interested in it. He’d take time to really know the story and know the characters. Like he’ll surprise you cuz he knows so much, maybe even more than you. 

If you’re gushing over any of the characters, he might start doing stuff the characters did to make you blush. Like for example, if the main couple went on a picnic, then he’ll take you on a picnic date. He’d tease you if you fall for someone in the show. He’d say something like “Ah, I see. That’s why you chose me right? Cuz I’m just like them? Hm?” (Crying rn hes so hot) 

Also, I can imagine him trying to model for Korean companies that the actors model after watching, just in case he can meet one of them! He’d also probably take inspiration from the outfits in the show like Chigiri.  You guys would definitely look like a k-drama power couple together <333

—————————————————————

Bachira Meguru💛

I can see him totally being invested! He’d be so excited to watch with you and check it out. He’s so open to watch new shows, especially if you like them! 

He’ll probably be super Interested and can’t wait to watch it with you. It’s like a little thing you guys do in your free time. He’s always so happy  to watch it with you. He would also force you to watch it with him if you guys were left on a cliff hanger. If you have work he’d go “why don’t you take a break? We can watch our show!” He probably gets you off track 💀💀

He loves cuddling and holding you closer when something cute happens and would probably be gushing with you. He’d be like “awwww baby~ they’re so cute aren’t they? Just like us ;)” 

Anyways, he probably wants to go on similar dates in the drama if he likes them. I can see him going “Ooooooh!! We should do that together one day! And that! And that! Let’s go there one day too!!” Ugh he’s so cute. 

If you fall for any of the characters he’s be all whiny and cuddle you closer. He’d also complain how he’s so much better than that specific character. He also would fangirl with you when the love interests get together! He’s so fun to watch k-dramas with <3 

—————————————————————

Nagi Seishirou🤍

He only likes it because he can relax and cuddle with you 😭😭. All he wants to do while you watch is be in your arms or vice versa. He’d probably be playing games while you watch. Like it’s all emotional and sad and all there’s his video game noise in the background. •_• 

However, he’d make it really comfortable and be chilling while you watch. Probably resting his head on your shoulder or lap. He’ll look at the TV screen every once in a while but he won’t rlly say anything. 

Overtime, just like Rin, he’ll slowly get invested too. He’s pretty chill about it though and would probably be like “oh. They got together? Cool.” If any of the characters do something embarrassing, he’d call them cringy and have second hand embarrassment. 

I can see him watching the show without you if you’re busy. When you ask him why he didn’t wait for you he’d say “it’s a hassle to go and ask you” 😭. I feel like he’d be kind of a menace and when he gets invested, it’s all he’s watching, he would most definitely watch ahead of you.

If you fall for a character he’d probably be annoyed but won’t rlly show it. He’ll start doing chores around the house or just do more for you just to show that he’s better than said character. He’ll hold you super close during a romantic scene and definitely likes watching with you. (Ugh I love him)  <333

—————————————————————

Hiori Yo 🩵

He’s probably already heard and know of K-dramas, but since his parents are strict, he’s never watched any. He’d be open to try watching them with you and be super curious about the shows too. 

Honestly right off the bat, he’s be invested and like watching with you. He’s also super fun to watch the show with. Like he’d giggle at the cute interactions of the couples, scoff if the main character makes a stupid decision, and so on. 

He really gets into the show and I can imagine him buying you guys cute merch (if there is any). He’d love going on similar dates of the couples and recreating cute moments. Or if you guys visit Korea, he’d want to go to the places in the show. 

(Okay this next part is kinda sad but-) 

I can see him being sad with you if something goes wrong in the show. Sometimes there’s moments in the show where the couple breaks up because of the parents. That’s Hiori’s worst fear. Having to loose you because of his parents. He hates the thought of it and it hurts him so much. 

However, the characters always get back together. So, if fictional characters can fight for who the love, he can too. He would literally leave his parents for because unlike them, you actually love him. He loves romantic moments in the show, when one of the character A says how much they’re in love with character B and just stare at them with so much love. Ugh, it perfectly describes how he feels for you, he loves you so so much. (He’s so adorable) <33333

—————————————————————

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Characters' reaction to finding the reader in a compromising position

Thanks for requesting this! I decided to throw in ropes for funsies, and I was vague with the position description so it can be whatever you want. I kinda want to write a fic based off of Yunjong’s now…

NSFW Headcanons for Various ROTBB Characters (Minors DNI)

Chung Myung

When he finds you tied up in such a lewd pose, he feigns innocence. He says he’s looking respectfully, but both of you know he isn’t.

If there’s a 0% chance you’ll get caught, he will try to take you right then and there.

If you don’t want to, he’ll untie you, but he’s got the rope and position etched into his mind for later. Y’all are recreating that scene the next time you’re in the bedroom.

Baek Cheon

His eyes are wide open when he sees you and it takes him a moment to recover. His face is beet red and his hands shake as he tries to untie you.

PLEASE tease him about his reaction and make him even more flustered. He may not do much at the moment, but watching him get flustered is fun. Meanwhile, his self control is being held together by a thread.

Will politely ask to recreate what he saw when you’re both in his bedroom. He’s already got the ropes for it.

Jo Gul

Keeps swearing that he’s looking respectfully! He really is trying to be respectful, but every time he glances at you, his mind starts to wander.

While he tries to untie you, younotice how sweaty his palms are and how warm his face is.

He won’t be able to concentrate all day thanks to what he saw. Will try to ask to recreate it, but is really awkward about it. He’s trying so hard to look chill and suave to you but he is panicking on the inside.

Yunjong

He looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head when he finds you bound and bent over.

Is silent the entire time he’s untying you. The silence doesn’t mean he hates it; he just doesn’t know what to say in this situation.

He’s wayyyyy too shy to say anything about it. I headcanon him as a bit of a freak, but he’s terrified of making the first move. If you want him to put you in that position, you’ll have to ask him.

Yu Iseol

This sweet woman is actually looking respectfully. <3

She has a hard time reading the room, so it won’t come across as freaky to her unless you point it out.

She might blush after you mention it, but still isn’t going to do much unless you ask her to reenact it with you.

Tang Soso

Not looking respectfully and will let you know!

I headcanon her as a forward little freak. She is a woman from the Tang family that grew up in solitude with no romantic encounters. After all of those years of nothing, she’s going to end up being at least a little freaky.

If she wants something, she’ll just straight up ask for it, too.

If y’all aren’t doing anything now, you will be later. Like Baek Cheon, she’s already got the ropes ready and waiting for you.

Tang Bo

He just straight up laughs at your predicament and asks how you even got into that position in the first place.

After his laughter dies down, he’ll untie you, but not without verbally teasing you. He’s a menace.

Might try to make a move then and there, but will wait until you get to the bedroom if you want him to.

Lee Songbaek

His mind is wandering, but he’s too shy to say anything. He’ll just politely untie you and help you get back on your feet.

You’ll have to make the first move unless you two have been together for a while. He doesn’t want to seem impolite by pointing out how scandalous your position was, so he won’t say anything unless he knows his comments won’t make you uncomfortable.

Jin Geumryong

Is taken aback at first, but gets more irritated than flustered. Genuinely wondering how the fuck you ended up like that. He’ll probably call you clumsy while untying you.

Won’t think much of the position you were in until later. I headcanon him as being into that stuff.

[spiderrmax]

main 4 + gen. dating hcs

synopsis: what the title says! general dating headcanons author's note: i always feel like my cartman is ooc. am trying tho i swear. also this was typed up b4 i got requests :) am working on those currently!

Stan Marsh

Is a very chill boyfriend

Was nervous at first though. Definitely got nauseous on your guys first few dates but it died around a few months into your relationship.

The type to send you cat relationship posts with only a caption of “us”

Lets you borrow his jacket when it’s really cold

Enjoys holding your hand; will grab at it unconsciously whenever he’s near you

Doesn’t care a lot about school but will take notes for you if you are absent

Will text you random updates throughout the day. “Cartman and Kyle are fighting again.” “I just saw a cute kitten” “listened to that song you recommended. Was good.”

feel like he's the type to make spotift playlist of songs thay remind him of you or songs you recommended him

Doesn't mind doing the matching couple things as long as it’s not too corny. Will buy matching converse or sweatshirts

Not the biggest on pet names, unless you’re upset or it’s in private; he goes for the classics: babe, love, beautiful

He will always partner up with you if you guys are in a class together. The teacher will mention partner work and you guys instantly make eye contact.

Kyle Broflovski

Is very sweet

A stereotypical romantic; i talked about this in my love language post but he definitely googles ideas for dates and gifts. would have a pinterest board just called "y/n" filled w anything he wants to try and recreate

Any google doc notes he has instantly gets shared to him

if you guys are on a doc at the same time he is definitely talking to you in the comments. he has to reply to every "hi!" you type. he can't help it.

Cliché but he loves study dates. he will always meet you at the library to study and chill for a bit. He will unconsciously stare at you and gets embarrassed if you point it out. The date always ends with him taking you out for coffee or lunch/dinner depending on the time.

Isn’t very open about your relationship; likes keeping most stuff behind closed doors.

However it’s not a secret. People know you are together. although not the biggest PDA fan will hold your hand if someone is looking at you too long.

In the early stages of your relationship, he’d get flustered so fast. You’d smile and wave at him in the halls and he’d turn a bright red.

The kinda guy to drag his thumb over your knuckles when you guys hold hand

I think he'd be a forehead kisser. It's so domestic and he'd love doing it.

Will always walk you home from the bus stop/school. Even if it’s a bit out of his way.

Is extremely comfortable around you. Will let you see his hair and take his hat off in closed doors. Will laugh when you try to wear it, because it doesn’t fit, but finds it cute. is only slightly amused at your attempt to impersonate him.

Eric Cartman

Is so cocky he’s dating you

Constantly brings you up in a conversation. He doesn’t even mean to most times, but it happens so casually

Doesn’t really enjoy sharing, but will give you some of his snacks if you look down. He’ll say you owe him but won’t really hold you to it.

Spam messages you constantly, especially if he knows you aren’t doing anything. They get more clingy as he messages you until you reply. Then he plays it off like he didn’t even want your attention; he was just bored.

Loves when you wear his clothes. Doesn’t like when you do it so much in public but once you had to borrow a shirt because you spilled something on yours. He just stared at you, in awe of how good you could look in something of his.

Will try on assignments he is working with you on. He respects you more and knows his slacking off will directly affect you. He still doesn’t put in 100% effort but you don’t have to carry his whole weight.

Loves calling you those really obnoxious pet names. Finds them so funny because you hate them.

Loves it even more when you call him a pet name. At first he will mock you for calling him something like "honey," but then he won't be able to stop thinking about it. Will reluctantly tell you you can keep calling him that stuff. But not in front of the guys.

This also applies to kissing. He will mock you the first you kiss his cheek as a goodbye but now he leans his head towards you if you're getting up to go.

His love language is making fun of you. Will call you stupid and ugly constantly but will throw hands with anyone else who dares try and call you that.

Kenny Mccormick

loves loves LOVES showing you off

Will bring you up in conversation, but isn’t as braggy as Cartman gets. Just loves you so much.

He is also with you as much as he can be. wIll walk you to each of your classes even if it causes him to be late.

The type to carry any books you’re holding while you walk. Will even balance them in one hand so his other is free to grab onto yours.

The type to wait by your locker to walk you home. He will rush to get there before you do.

Will pull down his hood when he’s with you for the sole reason he loves when you play with his hair. Enjoys putting his head in your lap, it’s his way of inviting you to do it.

loves listening to you talk! no matter what you are rambling about you have kenny's full attentions.

 Although known as a serial flirter/perv, it dies down when he gets into a relationship with you. He’s very loyal and won't risk your relationship or your trust

Comes over to your house a bunch. Your parents are used to him coming over frequently. He probably has clothes left there and his own toothbrush.

Loves playing video games with you! Even if you’re bad. Will have you sit between his legs so he can help with your hand placement if it’s a single game. (In mario kart, his go to is princess rosaline or daisy)