#bad phase will surely pass

[realblrr]

Dramatic escalation will surely happen baby but don't forget to maintain a stability ( sounds like an illusion and it is obviously an illusion ) for those 9 years and develop yourself so probably you may also escalate your life the way it has happened in this picture...booom

[pallases]

urghdjf i need an interest to just absolutely throw myself into

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[writer-logbook]

How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide.

Intro : I love the 5-steps format, don’t mind me. Again, this essay is based on my personal experience.

Read in different genres. Ok, I know you’ve probably heard this advice more than you can count but did you ask yourself why it is so important ? You probably wonder ‘‘How reading some historical fiction will help me writing my sci-fi novel ?’’ For that simple reason my friend : they meet different purposes. You don’t know how to describe a castle ? It’s okay, historical fiction got your back. Because it aims at something more realistic and accurate, it would tend to be more specific and detailed when it comes to describing clothes, furniture, places and so on. Why ? Because, most of the time, THEY ACTUALLY EXISTED. Take a closer look at how it is done and draw your inspiration from it (but please avoid plagiarism it’s bad - and illegal)

Take notes and CLASSIFY them. To make reading somehow useful, you have to actually make it concious, which means you have to write things down to remember them. When I come across a description I like, I tend to takes notes of the figures of speech that are used and class them, so when I have to write a similar scene, I have an idea of what have been already used, and weither or not it achieved its goal. I am NOT talking about COPY another author’s style !!!! It’s about finding inspiration and new approaches. I also tend to take notes of the new words I wish to incoporate into my writing. The thesaurus is my new bestie.

Rewrite the same scene from different POVs. First of all, it’s fun. And it’s a really good way to spot quirky formulations. For instance, if you describe a ship, the captain’s POV should be different from that of a simple observer. The first one would be naming each part princisely whereas the other would only be admiring the surface without knowing anything. If the caption is the same for both POVs, maybe you should consider write your passage again (or have a good reason, like a strong amateurism for the mere observer). It’s go hand in hand with coherence - but it would be an essay for another time (maybe).

Read your text aloud. I put major emphasis on that one because it’s as underated as reading books for various genres. You have no idea how much we DON’T speak the way we write. Even dialogues are crafted in our stories - so make sure to give them proper attention. (i even read my email aloud but-). I KNOW how cringey it might be as I am doing it MYSELF but the benefits are worth the 35-minutes shame I endure from my own mess. Before you can shine, you have to polish (shout out to the one who said that first if it’s not me).

Take a step back. I strongly advice you to let some time pass before reading your text again and profreading it. It will cast a new light upon your work and with fresh eyes you’d be more likely able to spot what needs to be erased or rephrased.

That’s all for me today. Since I would be entering my proofreading phase for my writing contest, the next essay would probably about proofreading (with examples from my own novel ?). Unless someone wants me to write on a specific subject first.

Gentle reminder that I’m still French and not a native so please forgive my dubious grammar and outrageous mispellings.

[zhelin-thames]

Father-Son Bonding Time

Masterpost

The Batmobile roared to life, its engine purring like a caged predator. Dick sat behind the wheel, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. Beside him, Danny slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed, looking less than thrilled.

“This is what you call bonding time?” Danny asked, glancing at the flashing console. “A joyride in the Batmobile?”

Dick smirked. “You’re not impressed? This thing’s state-of-the-art! Rockets, stealth mode, ejector seats—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool,” Danny interrupted, rolling his glowing green eyes. “But I can fly, remember? Pretty sure I’m faster than this hunk of metal.”

“First of all,” Dick replied, mock offense in his tone, “this is not just a hunk of metal. It’s a masterpiece. Second—race me and find out.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You serious?”

“Absolutely.”

Before Danny could respond, the Batmobile shot forward, tires screeching. Danny blinked, then smirked. With a flash of white light, he transformed into Danny Phantom and phased out of the car.

The Gotham skyline blurred past as Dick and Danny raced through the city. Danny zipped between skyscrapers, laughing as he easily kept pace. “Come on, old man! Is that all you’ve got?”

“Old man?” Dick scoffed, hitting a switch. The Batmobile fired a grappling hook that latched onto a passing monorail. “Let’s see you keep up now!”

Danny snorted, his voice echoing through the comms. “Cute trick, Dad. But I’ve got one too.” He vanished mid-air, reappearing just inches from the Batmobile’s hood, flying backward with his arms crossed.

Dick’s jaw dropped. “Okay, that’s cheating.”

“You didn’t say no ghost powers,” Danny shot back, grinning.

Their banter was cut short as a sudden explosion rocked the street ahead. A plume of green smoke rose into the air, and from the chaos emerged a familiar figure: Skulker, the self-proclaimed ghost hunter, armed to the teeth with ectoplasmic weapons.

“Danny Phantom,” Skulker growled, his mechanical armor gleaming in the city lights. “And... Nightwing? What, you’re bringing backup now?”

“More like family,” Dick quipped, leaping from the Batmobile. He twirled his escrima sticks, the electric crackle echoing in the night. “And we’re not big on visitors.”

Danny rolled his eyes but smirked. “This guy again. Don’t worry, Dad—I’ve got him.”

Before Dick could respond, Danny shot forward, ectoplasmic blasts flying from his hands. Skulker retaliated with a barrage of missiles, forcing Danny to phase through them. Meanwhile, Dick darted into the fray, disarming one of Skulker’s shoulder cannons with a well-aimed throw.

“Nice shot!” Danny called out.

“Teamwork, kid!” Dick replied, flipping over Skulker’s sweeping arm.

The fight was fast-paced and chaotic, but together, they overwhelmed Skulker. Danny’s raw power complemented Dick’s agility and strategy. Within minutes, the ghost hunter was subdued, bound in glowing ecto-restraints Danny conjured.

As the dust settled, Danny turned to Dick, breathing heavily but grinning. “Not bad for a ‘hunk of metal.’”

“Not bad for a glow stick,” Dick shot back, ruffling Danny’s snow-white hair.

Danny groaned but didn’t pull away. “Seriously, though. That was... kind of fun.”

“Kind of?” Dick teased. “Come on, you loved it.”

“Okay, fine, maybe a little.”

They shared a laugh, and for the first time, Danny felt the weight of his new reality lighten. Maybe having a superhero dad wouldn’t be so bad after all.

From a rooftop above, Bruce watched the pair with quiet satisfaction. He turned back into the shadows, leaving them to their moment.

[lylianrae]

A list of all the things I have manifested ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

We manifest everything in our lives btw - the good and the bad which is why I will be including both to prove that the law does not discriminate. If you can successfully become poor, you can most definately become rich with the same ease because everything is just a state.

Long hair

AHH this is one of my favourite manifestations. Ever since I was young I had a weird bob with a fringe (often crooked) and I wanted long hair like all the other girls (lmaoo) but my mum was strict so she didn't let me grow it out. Although I didn't know about manifestation back then, every new year and birthday I would wish for long hair and I would pretend I was a princess with butt long hair. Guess what, somewhere along the line, my mum let me grow it out and now I have butt length hair (don't really know what to do with it tho </3).

As all kids do, I went through an emo phase where I chopped off like half of my hair like 4 years ago. I literally grew back 7-8" of hair within a month because my parents got too mad. I knew about manifestation here so I just assumed my hair always grows unaturally fast. Same with when I cut bangs, they grew past my chin within a couple of weeks.

Manifesting my way into a private school

Honestly this just shows that you dont need 2430430 hours of working on your self concept to manifest. Literally so many celebs, including Marylin Monroe (the queen), manifested their fame with awful self concept. Likewise, here I was possibly going through the worst time of my life back then. I would wake up at 8 am and start studying and end at 11 pm despite being only 10 at the time. I was so freaking stressed and envious of all the other children and went into a depressive spiral where my two options were pass or die. I didn't even have enough practice and I cried my self to sleep on most nights. Anyways, when i did the exam I was deathly calm and even after the exam I was apparently so chill so my parents thought I failed.

I literally left 9 questions on one paper but throughout the summer, everytime I found a dandelion I would make a wish and imagine digging a tunnel to the examiners room where I secretly change my answers into the right ones (lmfao my tiny 10 yr old brain - idek how it worked). Anyways my results were sent back to me a month later on a random October evening and I got a really high mark. Even after 7 years of going to this school I havn't met anyone who has gotten a mark higher than mine.

Curly hair / straight hair

Sigh. We always want things we don't have. When I was younger I had really straight hair like 1A asian hair but when I was like 10, I really wanted curly hair and I would try to curl it often. After a few months, I manifested a curling iron and my hair literally became naturally curly like right after a wash it would curly af when before it was dead straight. Naturally I grew bored of it and I wanted my straight hair back and for ages I began overcomplicating the law and struggled to manifest it. It was only recently when I actually let go of the 3D that I manifested the silky, shiny straight hair.

Social life?

This is also a funny one, just shows how easily you can manifest. So back in 2021 after lockdown I felt so lonely and felt so left out of my friendship group so after a few months I began stressing myself out and spiraling for like 30 minutes, sobbing to myself about how I was so lonely and how nobody loved me (💀). Anyways it became reality, I found myself uncomfortable in many social situations and found myself becoming forgotten far more easily. I don't really remember the details but it was so bad that I think I accidently manifested social anxiety (oh well we still up tho).

However I am a loa girly so I found myself listening to popularity subliminals and slowly (but surely) my mindset change from having no friends to being the most popular girl in the year. Like no joke I became friends with like 3 people from different social circles so at lunchtime we had to join up like 3 different tables so we can all sit together. Overall I got myself 20+ close friends and even my ex friends began to admire me although it had ended badly. Even now, when someone says something thats untrue - for example saying that they are dumb when they are not, they would be like "ahaha so its like when Rae (me) says she has no friends, the whole school knows who Rae is".

Clear skin

This was sort of in the beginning of my loa (law of attraction back then) journey, I just randomly found out what subliminals were and was still quite new to everything. Now I don't even understand how it happened but I had busted some capillaries under my skin and it looked like small red viens under my skin and bro I was freaking out at the time. One night I was like just, I had enough, I'm going to get myself better skin and so I listened to a sub once for 3-4 days and on like the 4th day, my cheeks began to heat up which was odd and the next day it was 90% gone. Just like magikkkk.

Desired university?

Guys. Feeling is the secret. Don't you ever forgot that - not feeling as in emotions but rather the feeling of knowing. I had 2 entrance exams to do to apply for my universities and it was a stressful time where I wasn't getting enough sleep and wasn't eating enough simply because I didn't have the time. Like I come home from school and would have 3-4 hours of homework, then I need to revise for tests and then the remaining time would be spent on the entrance exams. Each past paper took 2 hours and I have around 13s per questions and I was already struggling on time. Anyways, I began to hate them and I would often complain to my mum saying things like "My score got even lower!!" or "I hate it so much" or "My head hurts / eyes hurt".

Guess what? Not only did I see my score decrease over time but I also made such a silly mistake on the most important entrance exam which I needed for 4/5 of my universities. I left a question and completely forgot to mark on the answer so when I finished the section I realised I had one more space on the sheet with like 10s to spare. I didn't have enough time to go back and fix it and lemme say that I did so badly in the test. Even while waiting for results I was just like "ah it would be a miracle if I scored above this bla bla".

I got the score back and it was so freaking bad like I did not stand a chance at my university at all. However, I started to affirm for a place and to my utter shock and surprise my desired university reached out and offered me an interview. I knew people who had like scores which were 50% better than mine and they still got rejected pre-interview. Anyways I began stressing about the interview and the results of the whole thing and boom. I got rejected 3 days after my birthday lmaoo. But its okay because I'm reapplying and I learnt so much more. I'm redoing the entrance exam and my score is a loooot better than it ever was last year.

A key take away would be thoughts are the result of the state you are in. Your dwelling state manifests and I was focusing on the unrealness and the difficultly of getting into this uni and thats what manifested. At the time I was heartbroken and literally went through the 7 stages of grief and spent so many months trying to revise it only for me to focus on the 3D. Just know that everything is done in imagination and it appears in the 3D as a result.

Photographic memory

So this is also something I had manifested before I actually knew about loa but the takeaway here is that manifestation is always instant. I was around 11 reading a random book on my tiny kindle and the book was on how to develop a good memory and I was like ah that'll be useful. Anyways later in the car, I asked my dad about photographic memory and he sort of explained it to me. I just assumed that I have that and I told him I do. He just laughed at me and said thats something that you have to train for and I was not impressed lmao. Inside my tiny brain, I was just like nope, I already have photographic memory and I dropped that thought. Let me tell you, my memory is actually photographic and has helped me out on so many occasions like my brain just takes pictures of things.

Learning fast

This is also something I did before I knew loa, I was just always wondering why the other kids couldn't grasp concepts as easily as I did. Literally in every lesson I would be like ah I learn so fast and now I am actually blessed with the ability to grasp complex subjects so fast. A favourite example of mine would be when I was obsessed with music but to take it to a higher level you need to be able to play an instrument. I couldn't at the time and my teacher told me the requirements a week before the actual deadline. I have never actually played piano with both hands but one day I sat down and worked through the entire song (fur elise by Beethoven) which is a grade 5 (I think) and it normally takes people months / weeks to learn. I learnt the whole thing in 3 days and from then on, I could play piano like I had been doing for ages. Again the memory thing was so helpful because I never actually used any sheet music, I learnt it off a youtube video and I remembered every single note I needed to play.

Hourglass body + 22" waist

This was a couple of years ago when I actually didn't understand loa. Anyways long story short, I would do a 3 minute workout and then flex infront of the mirror all day (💀) and be like omg I have abs. Overtime, I actually got so skinny everyone around me kept pointing it out to me and my mum got so concerned that she took me to the doctor like 4 times. It was so funny, I would loose like 2-3kg overnight and my parents would have to buy better fitting uniform.

Bigger boobs

This was also back in the day (2021?) when I didn't understand how to manifest things easily af. I had an A cup but I wanted better boobies and I listened to like 2 subs for a week and I went to a B cup. But I just assumed I have a bigger cup size recently and I just skipped C and went to D+ (haven't measured in a long time).

I'm not done but I'm tired now bye bye

[alchemistc]

It's not something he thinks about terribly often - no real reason to, until this moment, with an arm slung over Evan's waist and a pair of eyes blinking at him out of the darkness.

Maddie and Howie are significantly smaller than Buck and Tommy. They are. There's no denying it. The bed that probably fits the two of them neatly with plenty of room to spare is just no match for Evan's mile-long legs, their broad chests and wide shoulders. Evan's tendency to kick one leg out from under the duvet and Tommy's habit of sprawling are just no match for this perfectly normal sized bed.

He'd said so even as they were turning out lights, voices low as they bypassed the frankly laughable double in the spare room in favor of the master, and Evan had joked that it wasn't like they didn't end most nights practically on top of one another, anyway, so what did it matter if they were a little cramped?

And he'd been right - at the time. In a California king they barely used half the bed - some combination of torsos and limbs always sliding together, heads tucked under chins and legs tangled together, arms slung over waists and pillows shared between them. Six months past the argument that had tipped them straight out of the honeymoon phase and firmly into 'actually we're just like this and that's clearly not going to change' and Tommy can't think of a single night they've actually laid down to sleep and not ended up a sprawl of interconnected pieces.

And they'd made it work, even though Maddie and Howie's bed is not large enough for two 6'2" men.

It wouldn't be a problem, except for the shadow hovering just a few feet in front of a softly snoring Evan - wet eyes and messy hair and a trembling bottom lip that Tommy is sure other people also find as devastating as he does, in this moment. "I sleep with you?" Jee Yun murmurs, wiping at her snotty nose and blinking her eyes like she doesn't already know Tommy would do pretty much anything to wipe the sad little frown off her face.

It's just.

There's no fucking room in this bed. Sure, if she'd had a bad dream and gone to seek comfort from her parents, there'd have been room, but, as Tommy has come to understand, her parents are significantly smaller than he and Evan and if Tommy shifts his weight in the wrong direction the both of them are tumbling off one end of this bed.

Jee's lip trembles.

"Did you have a nightmare, bug?" Tommy asks softly, and Jee shakes her head fiercely, tucking her chin towards her chest, a hand reaching out to dig tiny hands into the duvet. Stubborn, like the rest of her family, a refusal to admit weakness he's been in an uphill battle to stomp out of her uncle for going on a year now. Evan mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, and Jee turns still-wet eyes on Tommy.

"I sleep here with Uncle Tommy?"

Which is not playing fair at all.

When they'd all but shoved Maddie and Howie out the door to go enjoy a long weekend, insistent that it would be easier on Jee if they watched her in her own home, Jee had been ecstatic. She'd bounced off the walls for hours, dragged Tommy around with all the resolve of a child aware she had him wrapped both figuratively and literally around her tiny little fingers (her whole hand could wrap around two of his fingers at a time), insisted on piggy back rides when it became clear that riding on either of their shoulders was just a recipe for bonked heads. She'd tired herself out before the sun had even set, and passed out with her head pillowed on Evan's thigh and one foot tucked in Tommy's armpit, the other shoved under his knee on the couch.

She'd barely stirred when Tommy swung her up into his arms and tucked her into bed, and Tommy had spent a good twenty minutes after the fact furiously reminding Evan that they were not having sex in his sisters bed.

("The biological impossibility of knocking me up aside, you know what it does to me when I see you with kids, Tommy."

"Yeah, well, let your non-existent ovaries quiver with excitement for a few more days and I'll make it up to you.")

The Uncle Tommy thing is new. As in, she's never used it before this evening, nodding off in her seat while she picked at her chicken nuggets, and maybe Tommy had gone so still when she'd murmured it that Evan had actually been a little concerned, and maybe he'd indulged her request for a third episode of Bluey because of it, but he's a grown ass man who can surely let her down gently - sweep her off her feet and tuck her back in to her own bed and sit with her until she passes out again.

Or Jee can employ an absolutely deadly combo of trembling lip and tears at the corner of her eyes and Tommy can cave like the idiot he is.

Tommy assesses the scant space on Evan's side of the bed - knee curled up towards his torso and ankle dangling off the side of the bed, a hand under his cheek as he continues to snuffle in his sleep. No go there. Tommy's flush against him, knees tucked behind Evan's, arm still settled against his waist, and at his back there's plenty of space but if Tommy rolls sideways he's got maybe six inches of leeway between himself and the end of the mattress.

Tommy sighs and rolls. Jee's face lights up. Evan snorts awake and grunts in pain as he gets an elbow to the sternum and a knobbly knee to the give of his stomach when Jee climbs right up over him to shove into the newly opened space between them.

"Jee?" comes the tired voice as Evan shuffles onto his left side to face Tommy and their new company, rubbing at his eyes and smacking his lips like he's thirsty.

"Bad dream," Tommy intones softly even as Jee settles herself between them. There's a sharp knee dangerously close to his groin and a tiny little hand fisted in his sleep shirt and a face shoved into his rib cage, and Evan is giving him that look again.

Evan rests a hand against Jee's back, fingers shifting back and forth across her shoulders while she shifts her weight to find the optimal position. Jee sighs into Tommy's shirt, hot wet breath fanning out over the little spot, and kicks a leg back at an angle that must just miss something soft of Evan's, if the look in his face is anything to go by.

She's asleep before Tommy can count to ten - out like a fucking light in the space between them.

Evan's eyes meet his. It's a conversation they've had in fits and starts for months, now - since the first time he caught sight of Evan holding a baby and nearly had a meltdown in aisle three of Trader Joe's because he'd tucked that idea away years ago.

It's one they really need to have in full. Soon.

Evan's hand shifts, fingers reaching for the bolt of Tommy's jaw, thumb pressing into his cleft and then shifting sideways. "She played you like a fiddle," Evan says, voice soft, grin going wide, and Tommy glances down at the shock of dark hair tucked between them with the sudden realization that of the two of them, Evan is gonna end up being the disciplinarian.

Christ, they're fucking screwed.

He breathes, rubs his face into the pillow, reaches up to cup Evan's hand in his palm, enjoying the stretch of heat across his cheek and jaw.

"Go back to sleep," Tommy tells him, and doesn't fight the pull of a few more hours for himself when Evan sighs and lets his eyes drift closed.

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and saw that your requests were open so I thought I’d shoot this over. If you don’t vibe with it don’t worry about skipping it. I was wondering if I could request a James x reader where they are living together and definitely love each other but they’ve kind of slipped into a roommate phase. Like they’re just living around each other and reader starts feeling insecure and scared and doesn’t know how to get back into normalcy. Maybe a little angsty with some fluff at the end

Thanks lovely!

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.4k words

When James comes in the front door, his shoes squelch. You look him up and down, dripping wet and mud caked up to his knees. You wince. 

“Rough practice?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” James says, dropping his bag by the door and heading for the kitchen. 

There’s an exhausted slump to his shoulders, and his shoes leave a muddy trail of footprints, and you hate to do it, but—

“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” 

“Oh.” James looks down. You see him follow the trail with his eyes. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You hate yourself as soon as it’s out of your mouth, because that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d say if it wasn’t fine. And yeah, you’re a bit peeved that he’d track mud inside after you’d mopped the floors just yesterday, but you know he wasn’t thinking about it and you’d promised yourself just this morning that you were going to be nicer to him and now he’s sitting on the floor looking like his day is getting worse instead of better. 

You try again. 

“Um, I made dinner.” You step over him awkwardly, setting a hand on his head to help yourself. James doesn’t shrink from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it like you could swear he used to either. The stove turns off like it’s relieved to do it, having idled for close to a half hour while you waited for James to get home. You wanted to try and eat together tonight; you used to do it all the time, but lately you’ve been having too many couch dinners by your lonesome. “Macaroni and cheese, is that alright?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You jolt a little at James’ hand on your back as he reaches around you for a bowl, and he looks at you, lips quirking like you’re funny. 

You find yourself smiling back by muscle memory, a reflex almost forgotten. It lifts your heart. 

“So, how was practice?” 

James glances up at you, then goes back to filling his bowl. “I’ve already told you,” he says. “Rough.” 

“Oh, right.” You huff out a little laugh. He passes you the spoon, and you take it without really looking at him. “Sorry.” 

His answering smile is weaker this time. More a press of his lips than anything. 

“Don’t be.” He kisses you on the cheek, then goes, pulling out his chair at the table. 

You take your seat, too. A lot of these base routines have begun to feel empty lately. They used to be an assurance for you, like if you always wore your same paths into the carpet you’d become so entrenched in this house, in James’ house, that neither he nor it could ever let you leave. You loved knowing that if he was back from his run when you woke up in the morning, there’d be a glass of orange juice waiting for you on the counter. That when the flowers on your kitchen table started to wilt you’d come home to a fresh bunch, and that if you called and told him you were having a bad day lunch from your favorite sandwich shop would miraculously show up at your work. Those things used to make your heart feel full to bursting, because they meant he was thinking of you. 

Now you’re not sure what they mean. They seem like things James does because he’s supposed to, like part of a script, a routine. Chores. 

As soon as he’s sat down, he’s digging into his dinner. James eats like a boy. Wolfing, like someone’s going to take it away from him. You hope it means he likes it. 

“What’d you do today, m’love?” he asks through a mouthful.

And see, he says things like that. Calls you his love, asks about your day. It’s all started to fall flat. You know he’ll take whatever answer you give him, because you’ve begun to suspect he doesn’t really care. 

“Nothing crazy,” you answer honestly. “Shayna’s baby came early, so I’m taking on a bit more at work until they can find someone to fill in for her. So that’s a bit stressful, but it’s not awful.” 

“Mm.” James nods, but doesn’t offer more than that. His mouth seems to be perpetually full. 

You fork a macaroni noodle, pretending you have more appetite than you do. Truthfully, you’ve felt weird and off and vaguely nauseous all day. 

Last night had been a bit of a breaking point for you. It came on rather suddenly. You’d gone to bed long after James, but you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from him, the way the moonlight snuck in through the slats in your blinds to fall across his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, and you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it all, and then you were crying. 

You’d wept silently, wishing James would wake up, but you were unwilling to rouse him and he wasn’t going to do it himself. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep with your pillowcase damp and cold under your cheek and woke to find James’ side of the bed empty as usual. Orange juice on the counter. 

“I was wondering if you might want to watch a film tonight,” you say lightly. “I saw they’ve put that sci-fi one you like back on Netflix.” 

“Ah, have they really?” James swallows, forks another bite. “Wish I could, but I’m supposed to meet everyone at Spoons in a few minutes here.” 

Oh. The realization hits you like a dull thud, smack in the center of your chest. He’s not eating quickly because he likes your food; it’s because he wants to leave. 

“Can’t you stay here?” Your voice is small. James looks at you like he’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He offers you a smile. His fork clinks in the bottom of an empty bowl, and his chair screeches as it’s pushed back. James brushes his lips across your cheek as he goes by. “We’ll have to do it this weekend, though, definitely.” 

You know by now these sorts of promises aren’t meant to keep. They come written in disappearing ink.

He heads upstairs to change, and desperation grips you. It forgets he’ll be home later and puts you hot on his heels, your own dinner left on the table barely touched. 

“Jamie, wait.” He pauses with his shirt half off, looking over at you in the doorway of your bedroom. “Don’t you feel like we’ve not had much time together lately?” you ask. 

The plea is naked in your tone, and James’ eyes soften. He tugs his shirt off, straightens his glasses.

“I haven’t had time for much of anything lately,” he says, shrugging good-naturedly. 

It’s true. He’s been busy. His new coach seems to think the team has nothing but time, and as captain James is expected to commit even more than most. When he’s not at training, he’s keeping fit on his own or running errands for his mum or sleeping it all off in your bed. 

“But you should come tonight,” James goes on brightly. “Dorcas and Marlene will be there, it’ll be fun.” 

He tosses his clothes in the laundry bin and makes his way over to the dresser. You cross your arms, then uncross them. Parse your words. “I don’t…I just feel like you hung out with your friends last night.” 

“You could’ve come then, too,” he says, stepping into a pair of jeans. “They all love you, you know that.” 

“I don’t want to hang out with your friends.” It comes out sharper than you intend, though still less sharp than the look James gives you. He’s finished getting dressed but doesn’t make to leave. “That’s not what I mean. I like your friends, but it’s not…the same as spending time with you. It doesn’t count, for me.” Your voice softens on the last two words, knowing that for James, it might very well count. 

For him, you’ve gathered, social time is social time. So long as you’re there, he’ll feel just as connected to you as if you were curled up on the couch together having a private conversation. You wish your brain worked the same way, but it doesn’t. 

He’s looking at you with something like trepidation now, so you state it plainly. 

“I really miss you, Jamie.” A blockage rises in your throat. You swallow it back down. “I feel like…I don’t know what’s going on with us lately.” 

“We’re the same as we have been.” He looks confused, worse when your face pinches painfully. 

“And that’s all?” You try to blink them away, but tears burn in your eyes. “This is just what we do now?” 

“No.” James looks appalled, but you catch the quick glance he gives to the digital clock on his nightstand. “It’s only for now, just until the season’s over and Coach mellows out. Where’s this coming from?” 

You blink hard, angling your head away from him. “Nothing, sorry. I’m just being emotional.” Your breath scrapes on the way in. You pretend it doesn’t. “It’s okay if you have to go.” 

He shakes his head, and when you start back towards the stairs anyway, he says, “No, come on.” In a few long strides, he’s got your elbow. He tugs you gently back into the room. “Let’s sit down, okay? What’s going on?” 

“Sorry.” Your voice is pitchy and tight. You think you hear James inhale softly before he’s drawing you into a hug. It doesn’t feel quite like it used to, but it’s still warm, still nice. 

He sits you both down on the edge of your bed, arms still wrapped loosely around you. “What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“I was going to try not to make your life harder today,” you laugh wetly, pulling back from him to swipe under your eyes. 

“You don’t make my life harder,” James says, somewhere near to dismayed as he slides his hand to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t.” 

You give him a look meant to say, Oh, come on, but you’re not sure how it comes off with your face blotchy and snot starting to run from your nose. You take in a big breath.  

“I think I’ve made it harder more than I’ve made it easier lately,” you admit, looking at your bedcover and also at nothing at all. “I didn’t even really realize until recently, but I’ve just felt so…disconnected from you lately. It’s like even when you’re here, I’m just around you and not with you, and—” Your voice catches. You inhale again. “And I know you’re really busy, but I’m just trying to find ways to fix it.” 

James’ hand drops from your shoulder, into his lap, and you lift your gaze. He looks crestfallen. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly, his own voice starting to sound raw. “I can’t control these things. And we live together, I see you all the time. It doesn’t seem fair to ask me not to see my mates.” 

“I’m not asking you to do that.” You’re horrified. “But that’s just it, Jamie, it’s like we only live together anymore. Saying hi when you come in, waving when you go back out, those don’t count as quality time for me. And I wish I could get the same feelings from being in a big group that you do, but I can’t.” 

James looks at you helplessly. You shrug, just as powerless. 

“I know it’s not your fault,” you tell him. A tear drips off your chin. “I don’t know what to do, either. I just want you to know that I’m trying, okay?” 

James nods for a minute. Thoughtful, heartbroken. He lets out a big breath. Your arms come around each other at almost the same time, so in sync you can’t be sure who reaches for the other first. You’re trying not to get snot on his fresh shirt, but he palms the back of your head, pressing your face to his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re right, we should both be trying more. I think I’ve let myself get so overwhelmed that I’m not…I’m almost not even thinking throughout the day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, and a little laugh rumbles through James’ chest. He hugs you tighter. 

“It is a little bit, though, isn’t it? I haven’t been paying attention. But okay, let’s make a plan for now.” His hand splays out between your shoulder blades, and you clutch at the material of his shirt, both of you wordlessly trying to get closer as if you can make up for lost time. “Come with me tonight, please.” You go still, but James goes on, “I know it’s not a solution, but I can’t back out and I’d really feel so much better if you were there. Please, angel. And tomorrow, we’ll stay in and watch something. Not a film only I like,” he gives your back a teasing little squeeze, “but something we can both enjoy. Or we can just talk, or play a game, I don’t care. Tomorrow is our night, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff, nodding and pulling away slightly so you can wipe your face. James joins in, pinching your nose clean for you and wiping the snot on his jeans carelessly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to clear my busy schedule.” 

He smiles. It’s like the sun beaming through clouds. “I’d appreciate that. Really hard to get ahold of you these days.” You let out a little laugh, and his grin spreads. “Good. So that’s for now, and at training on Friday I’m going to talk to Coach about cutting down on our hours.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Jamie, you don’t have to—” 

“I do,” he says. “I’ve been a wuss about it, but everyone on the team is miffed and it’s really my job to handle it. Coach doesn’t know everything yet, so I can at least give him some advice about how we operate best.” 

James palms the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and meeting you halfway. His forehead presses against yours. 

“I’m really glad you said something. Thanks for being the smart one, as usual.” Your smile is small at first, but James nudges his nose against yours until it blooms in full. “We’re gonna make it better, okay?” 

You swallow thickly. “Okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His voice takes on a tender quality, and you push your forehead into his. He palms your cheeks in response, stamping his lips to your forehead. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, too.” 

That was never up for debate. 

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: based on this request where paul and swan!reader are in the middle of a cold-war with neither willing to talk to the other. reader gets fed up and handcuffs herself to paul at a pack meeting but loses the key. angst, smut, and fluff ensue.

warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, dom!paul, sub!reader, heavy praise from paul here

word count: 4.88k

…

it wasn’t unusual for you and paul to find yourself in arguments over little things, though, it was unusual for them to last more than a few hours. so when you found yourself at a stand-still with paul over him hiding some news about his mom coming back to la push from you, you knew it was bad. nearly 72 hours had passed and neither of you had said a word to each other and it had gotten so bad that you hadn’t seen paul for over ⅔ of those hours thanks to him hiding out at jared’s house.

though, once you realized that you would both need to be at the monthly tribal council meeting, you’d devised a rather dumb plan to handcuff yourself to him. you knew you’d probably never hear the end of it from him but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? 

thankfully, your dad was the police chief and wasn’t too concerned about either of his daughter’s getting into his stuff so the handcuffs you needed were right with all his stuff at the entry of your childhood home. even though you’d moved in with paul nearly a year ago, you still owned a set of keys for the home and charlie was away on a fishing trip for the weekend, making sliding in and out to grab the handcuffs even easier than it already was.

as soon as you had the handcuffs and keys in hand, you were driving off to billy black’s house before your nerves could get the best of you. the drive there wasn’t too long and, soon enough, you were pulling down the familiar gravel road to their ranch house.

thankfully, paul’s car was already in the driveway along with just about everyone else’s so you weren’t worried about needing to wait forever for him to show up. unfortunately for you, your nerves had gotten the better of you as you were getting out of the car and you spilled your wallet, keys, and phone onto pebbled road that was billy’s driveway.

“hey you okay?” jared’s voice called moments before you felt his hand sliding down your back as he crouched down next to you on the ground, “i got it,” he reassured, helping you gather everything up.

you let out a heavy sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his for a moment and he just offered you a knowing smile, gently handing you your things, “you just break outta prison or something?” he joked when he saw the death grip you currently had on the metal shackles. 

“‘s nothing,” you reassured, and, knowing he wouldn’t buy your story for a minute, you were quick to stand up and push your wallet and keys into the back pocket of your jeans before brushing off the dirt on you, “have you seen paul?” you asked, ignoring the way jared’s gaze changed to a more concerned one when he saw how you were ignoring his initial question.

deciding against pressing you any further, jared nodded after a moment, “uh yea i think he’s out back-” he started and, before he could continue to pry about the details of your handcuffs and, more specifically, what you were planning on doing with them, you were calling a ‘thank you!’ to him over your shoulder while you strode down the short path to billy’s backyard.

it wasn’t crowded by any means but, for a house that typically only saw 2 people a day, it sure looked a bit crowded with most of the pack, imprints, and a few council members intermingling with one another. you only had to pause for a moment before your gaze zeroed in on your imprinter, currently sat down in one of the lawn chairs and engaged in what looked like a half-hearted conversation with embry and jacob.

paul seemed to take notice of your presence too, his gaze lifting to find yours almost as soon as you found him. he didn’t seem too phased by you starting to stalk over to him, apparently also not noticing the silver bangles you carried with you as his gaze remained rather stoic while he watched.

“if you’re coming over here to grovel-” paul started as he watched you grab his right hand, voice pausing rather abruptly when he saw you slap the handcuff around his wrist, securing it in one quick movement, “what the fuck are you-” he went to pull his hand from yours but, for once in your life, you were actually quicker than him and managed to get your left wrist secured with the other cuff.

“oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me right now,” paul rolled his eyes, sinking back into the lawn chair with a resigned groan that had embry and jacob both turning their attention to you. 

“5 bucks says he’s fucking her within the hour,” embry immediately bet when he saw the scene currently unfolding in front of him. 

jacob barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “no way she’s letting him hit it,” he reasoned, him and embry quickly escalating to a full on bickering match. you let out a happy hum, turning your attention to paul who looked quite miserable to say the least.

“can we talk now?” you asked, expecting a bit more of a reaction from paul but he just rolled his eyes, not looking at you as he got up and started walking back towards the car, you quickly trailing behind him.

despite his annoyance, you did a little victory dance in your head to celebrate your success. not talking with him for almost 3 days now was about to kill both of you so you were just glad he was even willing to be around you (though you did decide to block out the thoughts that the only reason this was happening was because you literally forced him into it but when there’s a will there’s a way, right?)

he remained silent as he got his keys out of his pocket, unlocking his car and pulling the driver’s side door open and sitting inside. the action yanked at your wrist a little harder than he expected and you let out a yelp when you felt the metal pinch your skin. he sucked in a heavy breath before taking your wrist with his free hand to inspect it, “where are the keys for this thing? you’re gonna keep hurting yourself,” he finally broke the tension as he asked his question and you just shook your head, suddenly much less concerned about the pain in your wrist as you remembered why you did all this in the first place. 

“not taking them off until you talk to me,” you explained as you crawled into the car, rather gracefully managing to get across paul and into the passenger seat all things considered.

“what does it look like i’m doing right now?” paul asked, pulling the driver’s side door shut before he was turning the engine on with his handcuffed hand, the action once again tugging you along with him. despite the annoyance of it all, you were rather satisfied with how your plan was currently playing out. 

“that’s not what i mean and you know it,” you countered, looking up at him as he finally allowed his gaze to meet yours, both of you holding it for a moment before his shoulders dropped and he nodded before turning his attention back to the steering wheel.

he made quick work of getting the car in drive, your handcuffed hand tugging against his at the movement, and he pulled out of billy’s driveway so he could make the drive back to your shared apartment, “what do you wanna know?” paul’s resigned voice broke the silence after he pulled onto the main road, looking over at you for a moment when you didn’t immediately respond to him.

“can you tell me why you didn’t want me knowing your mom was back here?” you kept your voice soft as you asked your question, already more than aware of just how sensitive the topic was seeing how explosive it was the last time you two broached the waters just a few days prior.

paul turned his attention back to the road, letting out a heavy sigh, “i wouldn’t call her that… my mom.” he explained, keeping his attention on the road as he started to explain himself, “i’ve only met her twice and one of those times was when she handed me over to my dad after she had me. the only other time was over a decade ago and i didn’t know who she was until my dad called the cops on her for showing up at our house while he was at work and i was home alone after school.” 

you frowned, intertwining your fingers with your handcuffed hands, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze that he gladly received. although he kept his gaze on the road ahead of him, he did allow you to keep your fingers tangled with his.

you allowed him a few moments to think about what he wanted to say next, patiently waiting as you rubbed gentle circles on the top of his hand with your thumb, “i didn’t even know she was back until billy let it slip and i guess i wasn’t ever supposed to find out. my dad said she was just here looking for money and didn’t think i’d want to know about it so he asked billy and old quil not to say anything about it to me,” he continued, another heavy sigh falling from his lips as he exhaled, “and i didn’t want to bring you into it because i didn’t want to stress you out for no reason. you get all worked up about that kinda stuff all the time and there’s really no reason for you to be doing that so i didn’t bring it up.” 

you frowned, opening your mouth to say something but nothing came out as you struggled to find something to say in response to his confession. you’d blindly assumed that he had chosen to hide everything from you because he didn’t trust you - not because he was trying to protect you and suddenly you felt absolutely horrible for being so upset with him when he was clearly upset himself.

“and then of course fucking jacob had to go telling you so you found out anyway and i probably shouldn’t have been as shitty with you about it as i was but i was already stressed out about everything and really didn’t want to drag you into it,” he continued, “and she’s already gone now anyways so it really doesn’t matter anymore. i saw her for about 30 seconds before she left and it was nothing great. she looked as strung out as she did the last time i saw her and then she was on her way - nothing you needed to see.”

he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, parking the car before he finally relaxed back into the seat and looked over at you, a frown on his face as he tried to get a better read of you.

figuring your silence wasn’t helping anything, you squeezed his hand before speaking, “i’m sorry paul,” your voice came out as a whisper and his frown just deepened, “i didn’t realize you were doing it to protect me,” you added, sliding your free hand up his arm to tug him towards you for a rather awkward but albeit much-needed hug.

“‘m sorry too princess,” paul mumbled against your hair, wrapping his free arm around you to help lift you up and over the counsel so he could pull you into his lap, the handcuffs making a rather unfortunate clanking noise with all the movement.

neither of you acknowledged it, holding onto each other for a minute as you both relished in the feeling of finally being back in each other’s arms after so long apart. paul’s free hand slipped under your sweatshirt to run his palm up and down your back, “you wanna go inside?” he murmured after a few moments of silence.

you hummed and nodded, lifting your head from his shoulder to look up at him. paul pressed his lips to your forehead for a second before he turned the car off and opened the driver’s side door, “you still insisting we be handcuffed?” he asked as he helped you off his lap and out of the car, letting out a breathy laugh when you blushed and shook your head.

“don’t need to be handcuffed anymore,” you whispered, giggling when he got out of the car and shut the door before pulling you into another tight hug. you wrapped your arms around his torso to squeeze him back, paul rocking you back and forth for a moment before releasing you from his grip.

with your arms now free, you reached into your back pocket to fish around for the key, frowning when you quickly realized your fingers weren’t finding anything that even remotely resembled the tiny key, “you lost the key?” paul asked before you could even get yourself to admit you’d misplaced it.

sucking in a deep breath, you looked up at your imprinter who looked mildly amused by the whole ordeal, clearly trying to keep up a displeased composure but failing when the corners of his lips pulled at the tiniest bit of a smile, “maybe…” you trailed off, reaching your handcuffed hand into your other back pocket, the action yanking paul’s hand with yours as you fished around for the key that was most definitely lost somewhere in billy’s driveway now. 

“okay let’s go inside and figure it out, yea? you’re freezing,” paul’s handcuffed hand was gently but firmly tugging your hand out of your back pocket, quickly lacing your fingers together so he could tug you towards the entrance to your apartment without hurting your wrist in the process. 

with a resigned sigh you nodded, following his lead as you two made your way back into your apartment complex, paul only taking a moment to get the key out of his pocket before he unlocked the door and ushered you inside to the much-needed warmth and comfort of your shared apartment. 

after a series of anxious thoughts immediately bombarded your brain with thoughts of you two getting stuck together for all of eternity, you were quickly working yourself up as you spun around to face paul who still didn’t look nearly as bothered as you thought he would be by the whole thing. you opened your mouth to spill all of your worst case scenarios to him but paul beat you to it, “don’t even start that-” he cut you off, “the worst that can happen is we call your dad and he comes over when he’s back from his fishing trip tomorrow, yea?” he soothed, watching as you processed his words for a moment and smiling a bit to himself when he saw your shoulders drop a tiny bit as you slowly nodded.

“you can’t just break them?” you asked softly, frowning when paul let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

“princess,” paul started, stepping even closer to you so he could slide both of his hands over your hips as he backed you into the kitchen counter, “i don’t think being attached to you for 24 hours is the worst thing that could happen,” he mused, sliding his free hand up to gently brush your hair off your shoulder, “besides,” he murmured, lowering his head to ghost his lips across your ear, the action sending shivers up your spine despite how little contact there was, “i’m sure we can make good use of the time, yea? gotta make up for not seeing you all week,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the soft spot behind your ear, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck and collarbone as he took his time taking you in.

despite how ridiculous the rational part of your brain was screaming this was, you were almost immediately folding as you dropped your head back and let out a heavy sigh while paul continued to suckle at your neck and collarbone.

“let me make you feel good, yea?” he asked, intertwining the fingers of your handcuffed hands, offering you a gentle squeeze when you hummed and nodded, eyes fluttering closed. paul barely contained his laugh at how easily you went from being an anxious mess to a horny one but he managed as he slid his free hand down to fiddle with the button on your jeans.

paul didn’t waste any time, undoing the button and zipper on your jeans so he could help you shimmy out of them, both of you letting out heavy sighs when you finally kicked them off, “did you touch yourself while i was gone?” he asked, voice raspy as he lifted his head from your neck to look down at you while he got his sweatpants off as well.

you broke eye contact with him to look down, immediately losing your train of thought when you saw the way his cock was creating a tent in his boxers, “eyes on me princess,” paul reminded, the familiar dominance returning to his voice that you quickly realized you’d been missing the past few days you’d spent without him.

slowly, you lifted your eyes back up his figure until you met his brown ones, “you gonna answer me?” he asked, not breaking eye contact while his free hand dipped below your panties while he swiped two fingers through your damp folds, lips curling into a faint smile when he felt how wet you were for him.

your free hand quickly gripped the counter behind you, looking for anything to stabilize yourself as you felt yourself growing weaker by the second. though, some deep part of your brain that knew paul was just waiting for you to disobey him again so he could punish you helped you respond, “only once,” you whispered, letting out a loud whimper when he rolled your clit between his pointer finger and thumb, his touch gone almost as soon as it was there. 

maintaining eye contact with paul was proving to be difficult but you managed anyways, praying that by behaving yourself he’d opt not to be too rough with you once he finally decided just how he wanted you for the rest of the night. you wished you could read him as well as he read you read but settled on watching his eyes as they flickered with excitement as he seemingly figured out just what he wanted.

“just once?” paul repeated back to you, tugging your panties down before he kicked his boxers off as well, both of you apparently unable to get out of your sweatshirts as your hands remained locked together.

you hummed, “jus’ once,” you whispered back, an alarmed gasp leaving your lips when he used his free hand to lift you up and sit you on the counter, the cold against the backs of your thighs and ass coming in stark contrast to his body heat.

paul chuckled at your reaction, breaking eye contact as tugged your thighs apart with his hand, “show me how you touched yourself,” he mused, that cocky smirk you knew and loved returning to his features as he watched your cheeks heat up to a deep red at his demand.

the submissive side of you was begging to be let out and please him and you quickly let her take over as you lifted your intertwined hands, untangling your fingers from his so you could grab his pointer finger and guide it towards your heat.

the handcuffs clanked with all the sudden movement and paul didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, just smiling to himself as he watched you press his pointer finger down on your clit, “show me how you touched yourself princess,” paul encouraged and you slowly worked his finger in light, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs.

a heavy sigh left your lips as you touched yourself with his finger, paul suddenly much more interested int he scene playing out in front of him as he watched your eyes flutter closed, your heart rate speed up, and your tight little hole just centimeters away from his finger pulsate around nothing. 

suddenly, his cock’s throbbing became much more apparent to him, precum leaking from the tip as he listened to the soft sounds leaving your lips while you got to work pleasuring yourself.

deciding against his instincts to take his time with you, he found himself guiding his cock up to your entrance, nestling the tip just inside your entrance to help lubricate you with his precum and tease himself with your warmth. at the sensation, your eyes fluttered back open to look between your thighs, “you’re gonna take it like a good girl, yea?” he asked, smirking again when you quickly nodded, beyond eager to have your imprinter back inside you after so long apart. 

“such a good girl for me,” paul praised, “keep showing me how you touched yourself, ‘m learnin’ a lot,” he teased, smiling as he listened to you giggle at his comment - both of you knowing damn well he taught you just about everything you knew and loved about touching yourself.

giggles aside, you pressed his finger back down onto your clit, rubbing his finger in slow, wider circles while he pressed his hips into yours. you blossomed around him, your heat immediately enveloping him as he split your walls apart on his cock, “doin’ such a good job taking my cock,” paul mused, gripping your hip with his free hand so he could give you a squeeze to reaffirm his praise.

you beamed up at him, happy to know he was happy. he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, both of you now chest to chest as he buried himself inside your warmth and allowed you a moment to process his length inside you, “could you make yourself cum?” he murmured, squeezing your hip again when you didn’t immediately respond to him.

with a quiet sigh, you released his finger as you lifted your head from his lips to peek up at him, “couldn’t do it without you,” you whispered, your cheeks coated with an even deeper red as you bashfully waited for his response.

paul smiled again, apparently loving every moment of it, “let me show you how to do it,” he mused, the familiar noise of the handcuffs clanking again as he rested his hand on top of yours, taking your pointer finger between his to guide it back to your now swollen nub.

“so first you’re gonna need something to stretch out that pretty pussy of yours, yea? did you use that toy i got you for your birthday?” he asked, referencing the absolutely ridiculous neon pink vibrating rabbit he’d so generously gifted you a few months prior.

your embarrassment around using it without paul had managed to get the best of you which had led to you now using anything on yourself when you’d tried to get off the day before. you shook your head, “didn’t use it,” you murmured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited for his response. 

“princess,” paul started, “‘s definitely why you couldn’t cum,” he chuckled before adding, “you always need that thrusting motion to make yourself cum, yea?” he asked, referencing your blatant inability (usually just refusal though thanks to your clear appreciation for his cock and fingers) to cum without something of his inside you.

you frowned but nodded, leaning back on your free hand as you peeked down between your legs where you watched as he pressed your finger against your clit to begin stroking the nub ever so lightly. 

“so next time you put it inside you and then what?” he asked, continuing his light minstrations against your clit, not seeming in any rush to get an answer out of you as he watched you struggle to process the sensitivity of his featherlike touches against your clit and having his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

you sucked in a breath, eyes searching his as you came up with your response, “then touch my clit like you showed me how,” you whispered bashfully, anxiously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited to figure out if your answer was correct or not.

thankfully, paul hummed in approval, “did you start like this?” he asked, his fingers pressing down on yours so rub at the bundle of nerves, the action having a gasp leaving your lips almost instantaneously as you leaned back further against your free hand for support. 

he rubbed your finger in slow, tight circles though he added a bit more pressure than you were earlier, the action having a surprisingly good effect on how much pleasure began coursing through your body, “jus’ like that,” you whispered breathlessly, making eye contact with him again as he hungrily watched your reaction to everything.

slowly pulling his hips back, he thrusted into your heat, setting a rhythm as slow and steady as he was on your clit, taking his time building you up to your first orgasm of the night, “doesn’t it feel so much better with my cock inside you though?” he teased, smirking as he watched you whimper and nod, eagerly allowing him to continue to manipulate your handcuffed hands to further pleasure yourself. 

“‘s why you need that toy princess, it’ll make you feel all nice and full and should touch that spot,” his grin widened when he watched your reaction to his cock effortlessly kissing your cervix, loving how easily you came undone on him when he did that.

“paul-” you whimpered, eyes meeting his again. your brain started desperately working through all the ways you could get him to let you cum and right now begging him to continue what he was doing seemed to be winning in your cloudy mind, “keep going,” you pleaded, head dropping back with a low moan when he pressed down a bit harder on your finger, the action increasing the pressure against your clit as he began to pick up the pace of his movements, rubbing your finger in smaller, faster circles as he sped up his thrusts to complement.

despite how he was clearly enjoying teaching you, you could tell he was getting close too as his breathing picked up, “and when you’re gonna cum what do you do?” he asked, voice tighter while he began chasing both of your rapidly approaching orgasms.

despite how fuzzy your mind was, you managed to choke out, “keep doing it.”

“my good girl,” paul praised, “now you gonna ask me if you can cum on my cock or are you trying to get spanked later tonight?” he demanded, both of your breathing hot and heavy, the coil in your belly rapidly tightening as you nearly came undone on him right then and there.

despite how dizzy with pleasure the thought of him spanking you was, your desire to be good for him overrode everything, “can i cum?” you whimpered, suddenly much more aware that you might cum on him before he let you, something you’d never done with him before and were suddenly wondering if you’d shortly be finding out the punishments that came with that. 

paul normally would’ve loved sending you right over the edge just so he had a good excuse to punish you but with his own orgasm about to plow through him like a freight train, he responded, “cum on my cock princess.” 

as the words fell off his tongue, your world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors, the coil in your belly snapping as you orgasmed on your imprinter, “paul,” you moaned his name loudly, reaching your supporting hand up to wrap around him and hold him tightly against you while he continued to rub your finger across your clit while you came.

within a few moments, paul’s thrusts were losing rhythm as he spilled himself inside your channel. despite the intensity of his own orgasm, paul reminded, “breathe princess,” hugging you tightly against him with his free hand. he pressed his lips to your hair, softening his grip on your fingers so you could lessen the pressure on your clit as you came back to your senses.

“did so good for me,” he praised, peppering your hairline with kisses while he evened his breathing out and waited for you to do the same.

after a few moments, his lips curled into a smile against your hair, “maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing,” he teased, giving your handcuffed hand a squeeze and laughing when that familiar blush returned to your cheeks but you nodded nonetheless. 

[mixsethaddams]

Steddie fic that was originally a twitter thread. Hurt/comfort, light angst, pining Steve, happy ending, roughly 6.5k words. Enjoy!

Look. It wasn’t like Steve was jealous, ok? Envious of the situation, maybe. But not jealous of the person. He was still burnt by Nancy rejecting him for Jonathan again. That was all.

After Vecna, he’d thrown himself into caring for everyone else just like always. Visited Max every day and helped her get used to her wheelchair. Drove Lucas to see her. Drove Robin to meet Vicky. He even helped Eddie and Wayne move into their new house.

Steve liked spending time around Eddie and his uncle. It was the type of family unit he never thought actually existed. He couldn’t fathom living somewhere so cramped and not tearing each other apart. He liked being alone with Eddie in the yard for a quick smoke, too.

Steve was kind of disappointed when there was no reason to spend time with them after they were all moved in. He told himself it was just because he didn’t have much else to occupy his time once Max came back home and Robin got her driving license.

The few times Steve did catch a passing glance at Eddie after he’d pick Dustin up from a D&D session, he had to fight against the urge to come up with an excuse to stay. He just… he was sure hanging out with Eddie would help ease the loneliness that he felt. That’s all.

So when the kids suggested a party at the end of the summer before going back to school, Steve thought it would be the perfect excuse to get some quality time in Eddie’s orbit. It wasn’t like he wanted them to be best friends or anything, just closer than they were.

They were probably too different to ever really get along in any meaningful way, but still. Steve still wanted to be near him. A male friend his own age, right? Is that so bad? He hadn’t had one since Tommy. He missed the specific type of camaraderie that came with it.

Steve was delighted when Eddie sat beside him in his kitchen on the day of the party. Their elbows knocked while they spoke to each other and those around them. They laughed and whispered behind their hands at the kids. It was perfect.

Well. At least until Steve had to excuse himself to make a phone call. Only… that was a lie. Because Steve was sitting on the floor of his bathroom with tears streaming down his face and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t ever felt before.

Everything had been going so well... Until the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it, leaving Steve halfway through a sentence. When Eddie came back, smile so wide his eyes were practically crinkled shut, he introduced the whole group to his new girlfriend.

It was easy for Steve to pass it off as a bad call with his parents when Robin came looking for him twenty minutes later. He told her he’d be fine, but had a headache now and was ducking out early. Not the first time it happened so it was easy to believe.

Steve curled up on his bed while the party wound down downstairs. He found himself simultaneously straining to hear Eddie’s voice, and flinching when he heard that unfamiliar high pitched laugh. Her laugh.

It sounded like everyone liked her. There was no awkward silences and her voice was wound right into the cracks of every conversation. Steve clamped his hands over his ears when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Eddie. He was!

He just missed that New Relationship phase. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t go out and get laid any time he wanted. He could. He did. He just always ended up wishing he was hanging out with Eddie instead after leaving them back at their houses.

Steve sniffled and shook his head roughly against his pillow. He was being selfish. He knew that. His chance to have a closer friendship with Eddie was ruined by some girl. Vague memories of high school name calling wormed their way back into Steve’s brain.

It was a bitter thought, to think how much Tommy Hagan would be surprised by Eddie having a real life girlfriend and not just someone that everyone was sure he’d made up. Steve half thought about calling his old friend to crack some jokes about it, make a little fun.

It only made the hollow feeling inside him grow to think like that. He felt silly, really. Getting so upset over a person who still thought of him as a high school bully dating someone. Steve fell asleep as the sun rose, hours after everyone went home.

They went everywhere together. But that’s what couples did, wasn’t it? They spent time together. Steve just kind of wished Eddie didn’t have to bring her, Sara, along with him every time he came to Family Video.

Steve felt himself getting almost angry whenever they walked through the door, holding hands and cooing over each other. He’d find a way to busy himself to avoid dealing with them and a couple of times even point blank ignored them.

The day he caught them kissing in the store was not his finest hour. He snapped that it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon and to get the fuck out, don’t do that shit when there’s kids around. Eddie looked confused, almost hurt.

He muttered something about kissing not being illegal while he pulled Sara out of the store behind him. She was sheepishly giggling and Steve wanted to yell at her to fuck off again. People getting boyfriends or girlfriends never bothered him this much before.

Robin finally getting with Vickie never made him jealous. Dustin and Suzie, Will and Mike, none of them. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Robin, appearing behind him. “Since when do you throw people out for kissing?”

“I just don’t need to see it,” said Steve. He turned to grab a pile of tapes to restock.

“Are you jealous?” teased Robin.

“No,” snapped Steve, louder than he intended. Robin stood in silent shock. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I miss that, I guess,”

Robin eyed him carefully.

“You miss what, exactly?” she asked. “Eddie? I didn’t know you guys were close,”

“No, not…” Steve sighed again. “I just don’t like friends ditching us for someone they barely know. That’s all,”

Robin pursed her lips.

She knew as well as Steve did that was almost the opposite of what Eddie was doing. He brought Sara along to get-togethers, and invited everyone to join them when they went to Indy for the day, or to the quarry to swim. Everyone else had welcomed her warmly.

Because she was nice. And isn’t that just the fucking worst? Steve tried his hardest to deny it to himself but she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder they all loved her. A stone settled in his stomach when he thought that Eddie might actually love her too.

No one fought back too hard against Steve when he kept skipping out on spending time with everyone. His mood lately had been enough to make them almost glad that the dark cloud wouldn’t be joining them. He preferred to sit and stew by himself anyway.

He’d hang out with Robin like normal but even she was starting to run out of ways to avoid talking about Eddie. Because people had noticed. They’d have to be blind not to. It was painfully obvious that whenever Eddie (and Sara) was mentioned, Steve soured.

Steve couldn’t even blame everyone else for finding it awkward. Eddie was their friend and they wanted to be around him. That’s all Steve wanted too! They were on the same side here! Once or twice he felt like throwing a tantrum and reminding them HE was there first.

Especially Robin and Dustin. Whenever he was feeling particularly sore about his failure of an attempt to build a closer relationship with Eddie, he wondered why they had managed to get what he wanted.

It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. He used to be the most popular guy in school! He had charm! It should have been so easy to get Eddie to want to be around him too. Steve often found himself wishing Eddie was next to him watching tv at home.

Just a subtle thing. He’d hear a joke on some sitcom and wonder if Eddie would find it funny. Or if the latest song on the radio would make him nod his head. Steve thought back to one of the days he helped Eddie and Wayne move into their house.

There was a song playing downstairs while they hung blinds in his room. Steve couldn’t remember the song or the tune, but he could tell you exactly which one of the freckles on Eddie’s nose were covered with tiny paint splashes. All he could remember was Eddie.

And see, Steve’s not an idiot. He knows, okay? He’s known ever since Sara turned up in his fucking kitchen and he felt like Eddie’s smile was sharp enough to slit his throat. He fought it from the start. Told himself again and again that it was nothing. It’d pass.

Throwing them out of the store was all Steve needed to admit to himself that maybe a closer friendship wasn’t all he’d been hoping for, when he lay awake at night wondering what would happen if he just drove on over there. He liked to drift to sleep thinking about it.

Robin caught on quick. She wasn’t dumb either, you see. She was able to see the way Steve’s brows turned down a split second before furrowing when the happy couple came into the store on a friday night. She never mentioned it, but Steve knew she knew.

It wasn’t until well into the winter that Steve actually saw Eddie without Sara attached to his hip. He came through the door while Steve and Robin were preparing to close up the store for the night, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get their attention.

Robin shot Steve a careful look before greeting him and asking what movie he wanted.

“Nah not tonight,” Steve heard him tell her from where he’d turned his back to rewind tapes.

“Just here for a visit?” asked Robin.

“I’m on my way to give Sara a ride home from work,”

Steve’s stomach clenched at the mention of her name.

“I’m actually here to invite you guys out somewhere, week after next one,” said Eddie. “A party, kind of,”

“Oh yeah?” asked Robin brightly. Steve knew she loved parties. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” said Eddie with a long breath. “Sara’s got some family up in Michigan, and her cousin offered her a job running the place she owns,” Steve had stopped moving. Please. Please no. “And it’s too good to turn down soooo,”

Eddie cleared his throat.

“I’m throwing a going away party,” finished Eddie.

“For Sara?” said Robin. “Oh that’s so sweet,”

Steve could tell Robin was still a half step behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. Please, not this….

Eddie let out a small laugh, he sounded almost nervous.

“Actually, uh,” Eddie drummed his fingertips on the counter. “For both of us,” Steve opened his eyes and felt his breath shorten as Eddie continued. “I’m going with her,”

Steve, back still turned, gripped the vhs case in his hand so hard he could feel the edges about to crack.

“Wait, you’re…” Robin stuttered. “What?”

“I’m going with her,” repeated Eddie. “To Michigan. She asked me to come last weekend,”

“She says there’s some metal bars I can try find work in,” explained Eddie. Steve could hear the edge of excitement in his voice. “And maybe I’ll join a new band up there too, who knows,”

“Your band!” exclaimed Robin. “Oh god, what are they going to do without you?”

“They’ll figure it out,” said Eddie. Steve could practically hear him shrugging. “Better off without my reputation holding them back anyway,”

Steve focused on keeping his breathing steady. He picked up another tape, hoping his shaking hands weren’t too obvious.

“This is…” Robin started. “Eddie are you sure about this?”

“What?” he asked. “Yeah! I mean this is the fresh start I wanted and Saras great. All I can think about is how she wants me there, no-one wants me anywhere,”

Steve held back the scoff that built in his throat

“And I’m happy for you,” said Robin. “We all are-" She reached back and placed a hand on Steve’s back, which he subtly shook by moving sideways. “-but isn’t this a little, I don’t know, soon? You’ve only been together a couple months,”

Eddie was quiet for a beat.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about, this chance,” said Eddie flatly. “New life, great girl. Whats your issue?”

“Eddie its not that easy to-“

“Buckley?” Eddie cut her off quickly. “Either be supportive or don’t okay? I already got this lecture from Wayne”

“I just-“

“I really don’t need to hear it from anyone else” said Eddie. “Am I putting your name on the guestlist or not?”

Robin sighed.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there,” she said. “Vickie too,”

“Great!” said Eddie, instantly brighter, a sharp edge to it now. “Harrington? You too?”

Steve spoke over his shoulder.

“Working that night,” he said simply. “Can’t,”

“Seriously?” said Eddie. “You don’t even know what night it’s on!"

“Yeah well,” said Steve, finally turning around to look Eddie in the eye. “It’s probably a safe bet so, count me out,”

“I don’t get you, man,” mumbled Eddie, looking him up and down. Steve shrugged and turned his head to watch the lone customer browsing through the aisles.

“Enjoy the party,” said Steve simply.

“Whatever,” said Eddie, pushing off the counter and going out the door.

“Steve…” said Robin gently.

“Don’t.” He warned.

“Are you really not going?” she asked.

“I can’t watch that,” he told her. The customer waved him over. Before he went to them, he looked to Robin again. “Don’t try to make me,” he said.

She just nodded.

Steve stuck to his word and didn’t go to the party. He had started to get angry about everything, truth be told. He felt a flare in his stomach when he thought about why he had to fall for someone who not only didn’t like him back, but was leaving the state too.

It didn’t seem fair. All Steve wanted in life was someone to love, but everytime he tried to open himself up to it, he got knocked back. He browsed a magazine in the gas station that gave the advice “get over them by getting under someone else” in large bold letters.

So thats what he’d been doing. Steve had called up every girl he knew with a pretty smile and spent every single night, getting over Eddie. It was easy to lie to himself and pretend it was working.

Whenever any of the kids came by the store to rent a movie, Steve pretended to be busier than he was to avoid them. They all had stories about Eddie, reminiscing about good times and getting sad in the run up to his leaving date. Steve didn’t need to hear it.

One night, a quiet Saturday right before closing, Steve counted to 10 and asked Robin how the party went. Her smile was tight.

“It was fun,” she said gently.

“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Eddie had a good time?”

Robin’s eyes were soft.

“He did,” she told Steve. “Sara bought him a new guitar, as a surprise,”

Steve swallowed hard and looked away. The flare of anger tried to brush through his ribcage again. Instead it felt weak, too drowned out by the heavy feeling behind his eyes.

“Does he love her?”

Robin chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered Steve’s question.

“He’s following her to another state,” she said after a moment. “That must mean something,”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Guess it does,”

*

"Come on, it'll be fun, it's only for two nights and it'll take your mind off everything,"

Robin was trying to convince Steve to join the other older members of the party for a weekend in some cabins in a national park in Tennessee.

Argyle's family owned them and, as a Thank You for welcoming him into their little group, had promised them free use of them whenever they wanted. Nancy would be going overseas to study for six months after New Years, so it was a kind of send off for her.

It was well into December now though, and Steve didn't feel like freezing his balls off alone in a cabin. He hadn't seen Eddie's van around for a little while, but there had been a small ad in the classifieds from Sara's family wishing her luck with her new life.

That was really all Steve needed to tell him that they were gone. Eddie was gone. A few days of peace and quiet wouldn't be the worst thing to clear his head. Well. That, and Argyle's guaranteed van full of weed.

As if to read his mind, Robin spoke up again.

"They're got these huge wood fires in the cabins, and me and you will have a whole one to ourselves," she said. "And no kids! We can have some drinks and just relax. Please, Steve?"

Steve eyed her carefully.

"I don't know, Rob," said Steve, sighing. "Argyle will have tons of room in his van for you, and he'll bunk with you if you don't want to be alone,"

"But! But!" Her eyes were wide.

Steve smirked.

"Tell me the truth and I'll say yes," he said, teasing.

"What?" she tried hard to look confused, bless her.

"Tell me that this has nothing to do with wanting to comfort Nancy," dared Steve, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Robin balked.

"Thats...! That's not...!" she stammered.

Nancy and Jon's break up had been kept quiet. None of the kids knew yet. They agreed that another stint of long distance would be too much for them, so they parted ways. It was clean, easy. It made Steve sad in his own way.

Robin and Vickie's breakup was less easy. She decided that Steve and Robin's friendship was something she couldn't be comfortable with. Robin had no choice but to understand, and Vickie had no choice but to walk away when Robin chose Steve over her.

Steve laughed.

"It's okay, Rob," said Steve. "I just don't get why you need me there for it,"

Robin finally gave up the act.

"So you can be my getaway driver if it doesn't go well," she said like it was obvious.

Steve laughed again.

"Alright fine," said Steve. "But...even if it goes well, she's still leaving,"

"I know," sighed Robin. "I just... I just feel like I have to try, you know? I don't want to be too late," Steve wished he could be so optimistic. Even a day apart would kill him, nevermind six months.

"Is that crazy?" asked Robin. "To want to do this and then wait for her?"

"No," mused Steve. "Just don't hop on a plane and follow her. That would be crazy,"

Robin laughed. "Well if Eddie is following Sara-"

Her eyes went wide. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth as Steve's chest constricted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

Steve held his hand up.

"It's fine," he lied. "When's the trip again? Gotta get gas, and food, you know?"

"Steve I-"

"When, Rob?"

Steve's stomach was lurching violently, caught off guard by the mention of his name. And hers. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.

"Um, this weekend," said Robin quietly. "We'll need to leave Friday morning,"

"Ok," nodded Steve. "I'll be there,"

The drive was better than Steve expected. Robin was a good passenger. She could read a map and always had the snacks ready to hand him. Steve had never been to this part of Tennessee before, so he was happy when Robin directed him onto the final dirt trail.

Robin spotted it before he did, parked right between two of the three cabins.

"Oh," she gasped. "Steve, I...I didn't know, I swear, you have to believe me,"

"What?" mumbled Steve, looking at her before following her gaze.

Steve took a second before he realised what he was looking at.

"I didn't know," Robin repeated quietly.

Steve gripped the steering wheel hard. There was no mistaking it. Right there, loud and proud.

Eddie's van.

Steve slid out of the driver’s seat carefully. Argyle came towards them with wide arms and a wider smile.

“Welcome, Brochaco and Brochacette!” he said brightly. “Who wants to learn all about the wonders of the safe keeping of your woodland abode?”

Robin stepped forward and Argyle directed her to the middle cabin. Steve was glad, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. His eyes were already darting around, trying to spot Eddie. Hoping he didn’t see Sara instead. Nancy ran towards him.

“Steve!” She yelled happily.

“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging him.

Steve almost didn’t hear her. Over her shoulder he saw him. Sitting on a low camping chair around a small firepit, chatting quietly with Jonathan, was Eddie.

“Come say hi!” She pulled him by the arm towards the others.

Steve rapidly counted the chairs around the fire. Six. If anyone had brought a…plus one…there’d be seven. Or maybe they hadn’t expected Steve to join and the empty chair next to Eddie did have an owner?

“Hey man,” said Jonathan. “Sit, fire’s great,”

Steve considered the chairs again. Eddie hadn’t even looked up to great him, instead keeping his gaze on the fire. Nancy wandered towards the cooler to unearth a bottle of white wine, while Jonathan left in search of a lighter.

“She’s not here, just sit down,” said Eddie cooly.

Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes. He still wasn’t looking up, but his jaw was set and his hand gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly. Steve sat down in the chair next to Eddie feeling like a scolded pupil.

“How, uh,” started Steve. “How come?”

Eddie puffed a sarcastic laugh into his bottle as he raised it for a swig.

“You don’t care,” he said.

Steve couldn’t defend himself. Eddie was right, he didn’t care. Robin and Argyle returned, all knowledge of safely lighting the indoor stove passed on.

“Glad you’re here, my guy,” said Argyle, sitting down and leaning over to fist bump Steve. “Figured you might like a chance to be with the whole gang again, now that the Ed Man swung back for a visit,”

“Yeah, this is great,” said Steve, only mildly grinding his teeth.

Steve knew the chill down his spine had nothing to do with the chill of the late afternoon. He was trembling in Eddie’s presence, with half a mind to just jump in his car and peel out of there. Robin would understand, he was sure of it.

Truly, Steve didn’t know if he was happy or sad to see him. His stomach churned everytime Eddie spoke in conversation, as everyone’s voice got louder as the day grew darker and the beers flowed faster. At the same time, he could barely turn his head to look at him.

It was like he didn’t feel like he had permission to look at him. He belonged to someone else and Steve had made himself clear; he wanted nothing to do with it. The night was cool around them when groups broke off.

Nancy and Robin where huddled together, having pulled their chairs close and covered themselves with a blanket. Jon and Argyle where leaning back and looking at the stars, softly speaking through private smiles. Eddie and Steve were quiet.

Steve had picked the label entirely off his bottle and rubbed the remaining glue until it was smooth. Once or twice he thought he heard Eddie inhale in a way that would signal the start of a sentence, but nothing ever came. Eventually, Steve got up and walked away

He didn’t go far, just around the back of the cabins. It was lit nicely by the moon and he could see into the woodland around them. It was peaceful, and he felt his chest loosen slightly now that he was further away from Eddie.

Steve took a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a lighter before realising he didn’t have one. Sighing, he leaned down on the fence and watched the darkness between the trees. He knew it should scare him.

After everything they’ve been through, a still and perfect blackness should make his skin twitch, but he just felt a sort of comfort in it. Steve watched a small mouse scurry between some fallen leaves, and wondered if it had somewhere warm nearby to sleep.

A crack of a twig behind him made Steve jump. He turned quickly to see Eddie rounding the corner of the cabin.

“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’ll find somewhere else,”

“Wait,” said Steve. “You stay, I need to find a lighter anyway,” He waved his unlit cigarette.

Eddie rolled his eyes and approached Steve, lighting his own smoke before handing the lighter to him.

“Thanks,” said Steve, lifting it to his lips. He felt like his chest was about to wring itself inside out with how hard it was squeezing.

Eddie leaned on the fence next to Steve.

“What are you doing here?” asked Eddie after a while.

“Oh, uh?” said Steve. “Just wanted some time alone I guess?”

“Not here,” said Eddie, clicking his tongue. “Here, like, the cabins. You haven’t come anywhere for months,”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say ‘I didn’t think you’d be here’. That would just be rude.

“Robin…” he said. “She asked me to come,”

Eddie hummed.

“How about you?” asked Steve. “I thought you were in Michigan,”

Eddie smoked quietly.

“I was,” he agreed.

“When are you... going back?” asked Steve in spite of himself. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some one on one time with Eddie after pining for it for so long, but he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, knowing it wouldn’t last.

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve took a nervous drag of him smoke and tried something different.

“Will Wayne go see you up there, do you think?” he asked. Eddie rolled his head around on his shoulder.

“No Steve,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he will,”

“Oh,” said Steve. “How, uh, how come?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“No use going up there if…” Eddie hesitated. “If I’m not there,”

Steve’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you be there?”

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Changed my mind, I guess,” he said with a soft shrug.

Steve was confused.

“I don’t…” he said. “I don’t understand?”

“Me neither,” said Eddie, softening slightly. “Haven’t even told anyone else yet. I drove us up there and I just…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Drove right on back,”

Steve could feel his eyebrows touch at this point.

“But… you were so excited,” said Steve. “It was your fresh start. What…what happened? What do mean you drove back?” asked Steve.

Eddie breathed out heavily.

“It didn’t feel right,” he said. “I think I realised it right after we hit the highway. I was too caught up in it to see that it just wasn’t…right,”

Steve was quiet.

“I got lost in the idea that, I don’t know,” Eddie waved his hand around. “Someone wanted me, and I just kind of went with the flow. Didn’t matter where it was taking me,”

“But, you wanted to leave, right?” asked Steve.

Eddie shrugged again.

“Thought I did,” said Eddie. “But then all I could think about was Wayne being alone and I…wanted to be back in the trailer with him. I wanted Hawkins,”

“So…You’re doing long distance, then?” asked Steve.

Eddie hummed again, pulling a final drag from his smoke.

“Like I said,” said Eddie quietly. “I was too caught up in feeling wanted,”

“Oh…” said Steve. He wanted to comfort Eddie but wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Eddie to be unhappy and it did sound like he’d had to make a tough decision, with tougher consequences.

“So you’re back in Hawkins again for good?” asked Steve. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing him everywhere again.

“Yeah,” snorted Eddie. “Back again,”

Steve held the burnt filter of his own smoke in his hand.

“Back in a town I have some fucking stupid attachment to,” continued Eddie. “Half the folks still think I’m a killer but hey, here I am,” Eddie let out a tight laugh. “Who wants me now?” asked Eddie into the darkness, offering the rhetorical question to the night.

Steve knew it wasn’t a question that needed an answer. Really, he did. But when Eddie dropped his hand back onto the fence, it was barely an inch away from his. Steve could practically feel Eddie’s body heat coming from it. His breathing got tight.

Steve stared at their hands, so close. Eddie’s words rang in his ears. I want you, he thought. I want you! Steve slowly shifted his hand to the side of his little fingers brushed Eddie’s. Eddie looked down when he felt it. Steve held his breath.

Steve lifted his little finger to rub to softly against Eddie’s.

“Oh…” Eddie whispered.

“Yeah…” Steve whispered back.

Argyle’s voice cut through the night.

“Steve? Eddie? Where are you? Did a bear get you guys? Do they have bears in this state?”

“Shit” muttered Eddie, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. He dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I…fuck,” he said under his breath.

He didn’t look at Steve as he walked quickly back to the main clearing.

Steve bent forward slightly and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like such an idiot. What the hell did he expect would happen? What the fuck was he thinking?

Steve stayed behind the cabins a while longer until Argyle’s voice called to him again. He dried his face as best he could, hoping the darkness would hide what he couldn’t. He came back to the fire and assured Argyle he really didn’t have to fight any bears

Steve smiled at how relieved he and Jonathan seemed. Eddie was staring dead into the fire, the fingertips of one hand drumming over his mouth. Steve could barely look at him. He felt so stupid. Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Robin’s head.

“I’m heading to bed,” he told her quietly.

“Huh?” she asked, barely turning away from Nancy. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be in soon too,”

“Sure you will,” Steve teased with a wink.

He announced his departure to the others and got raised bottles from Jon and Argyle.

Eddie didn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him too. He retreated to his cabin, immediately crossing his arms against the cold when he entered. He stood in front of the large stove fire for a second and debated calling Robin in to light it for him.

After a few minutes of thought Steve decided to just brave the cold. He had a hoodie and long sweats he could wear in bed. He’d be fine, and there were enough blankets on the bed to heat him up quickly. Steve slipped into bed and huddled around himself.

Part of him wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate the beautiful bedroom he was in. Lots of plaid and carved furniture, exactly the type of place his parents would insist was dirty and filled with bugs. Steve knew he’d love it though, if he had the chance to.

It wasn’t so a much a decision of if he would drive home early by himself tomorrow, more so when. Robin clearly didn’t need a getaway driver and after that stunt he pulled with Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure how welcome he’d feel come sunrise.

Steve didn’t even know if Eddie would tell anyone. It’s not like the group would care that they were both men, but admitting a crush, or more than a crush, however subtly right after learning about a breakup? Robin was sweet enough to pull it off. Steve, maybe not.

At the very least, it felt like some sort of ending. Eddie’s reaction had been a definite Full Stop to any idea Steve might have had about his feelings being returned. He wasn’t sure he ever even thought they would be. He just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Steve tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. That now he had to move on. He had no choice, especially if Eddie was back in Hawkins. He couldn’t avoid him forever, their paths would have to cross eventually. Steve wished they wouldn’t.

Steve buried his face in his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head, closing his eyes. He’d have plenty of time to dissect everything all over again in his own head in the morning. If he was making the drive back again so soon, he needed some sleep.

Steve had just managed to coax himself into something close to sleep when he heard the front door of the cabin creak open. So Robin did come back, he thought. Maybe she’d be driving back with him after all. He followed her footsteps across the living area.

The sounds of shoes being kicked off and the stove being lit were welcome to his ears. The stairs squeaked, and the floor outside his room, before he heard his door open and feet shuffling across the floor. He pretended to be asleep as the bed behind him dipped.

Steve loved her, he did, but he couldn’t listen to her go on and on about Nancy right now, whether good or bad. They’d talk in the car tomorrow. The blankets rustled and pillows were shifted, before he heard a deep breath being taken.

“Steve?”

Steve’s eyes shot open. His own breath stalled in his chest, because it only now that he realised. That wasn’t Robin.

“Are you awake?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve barely allowed himself to breathe as he turned over in the bed. The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside, but the outline of Eddie’s features was still unmistakable.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, afraid if he spoke too loudly he might wake himself from whatever dream he was in.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered back. His expression was almost one of confusion or gentle uncertainty.

“It’s cold in here,” said Eddie when Steve didn't answer. “Lit the stove for you,”

“Thanks,” replied Steve dumbly.

Eddie hummed. His eyes landed on Steve’s hand, resting palm up on the bottom edge of the pillow.

Eddie slowly moved his own hand so his fingertips rested lightly in Steve’s palm.

“Oh,” Steve breathed. His heart thumped so hard he was sure Eddie must be able to hear it.

“Yeah…” said Eddie, just as softly.

“What-” Steve began, before Eddie cut him off.

“Can we wait?” he asked.

“Wait?” asked Steve. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighed.

“Can we wait until tomorrow to talk about it?” he said. “Can tonight just be…this?”

He gently ran his fingertips over Steve’s palm again

Steve nodded, giving a little ‘uh huh’ sound. Eddie gave him a sweet smile in return, still looking at their hands. They stayed like that for a while, Steve watching Eddie like he thought he was going to disappear while Eddie tapped his fingers soundlessly.

“You scare me, Steve,” said Eddie. Steve almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in watching how the movement of the moon highlighted the different lines of his face to hear the whisper.

“I do?” asked Steve. “Is that…good?”

Eddie shrugged.

“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….” Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words.

Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.

“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?” asked Eddie. “Like you need to trust your gut. It’s not supposed to be easy right away. You have to…want to earn it, I guess”

“And that’s how you feel?” Steve asked him, full of hope. “About me?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” said Eddie simply. “When you…Outside, earlier, it was like…I don’t know, like an electric shock. But a good one. One I’d never felt before,”

Steve swallowed hard when Eddie took a pause.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with…Sara, that whole thing,” continued Eddie. “Why I wasn’t able to go be with her. But then, I felt that shock from you and I knew. Right away, it was like I just knew what I was missing,”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“I’m scared too,” Steve admitted. “Mostly that I’m dreaming, but, yeah, I’m….me too,”

Eddie laughed quietly at him, before sliding his fingers up to lace loosely with Steve’s.

“You’re not dreaming,” he whispered, squeezing his hand ever so gently.

“So you’ll still be here in the morning?” asked Steve. “When I wake up?”

He felt small suddenly, the vulnerability creeping up his spine again.

“Pinky swear,” said Eddie, shifting his hand again to hook their little fingers together.

Steve smiled.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Eddie again in a whisper. “Get some sleep,”

“Okay,” Steve whispered back.

Eddie shuffled an inch closer until their knees knocked together, and Steve felt his breath on their still joined hands.

Eddie smiled at Steve once more before closing his eyes and settling into the pillow. Steve settled too, the warmth of the stove fire finally reaching the room and leeching into the blankets around them. Eddie’s breathing evened out quickly, his lips slightly parted.

Steve hardly dared close his own eyes, afraid that if he blinked too hard Eddie would be gone. But the feeling of their lingering promise, their fingers still curled around each other, kept him grounded. Steve let sleep take him slowly.

The last thought before Steve drifted off was of everything he wanted to say to Eddie in the morning, all the promises he wanted to make. It felt like a beginning now, instead of an ending. Steve fell asleep feeling, in the very best way, absolutely terrified.

[scremogirl]

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader

I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!

He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?

Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?

“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”

“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”

“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“

Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?

Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?

You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.

“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.

“…Do I know you?”

“Well…no. But I know you!”

“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.

“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.

“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.

“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.

“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.

That marked the day of a long friendship.

That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.

The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.

“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”

“To lunch,”

“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.

“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.

“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.

“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.

“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.

“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.

“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.

“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.

“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.

He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.

He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.

As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.

“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.

“Nothing,”

You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.

Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.

Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.

-Love, Sos❤️

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More| 4

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, smutty descriptions(nun too serious), Lewis being absolutely in love with you and your body, mentions of weight, mentions of insecurity (reader isn’t necessarily insecure though), Dad!Lewis, Curvy!Reader (usually i write for curvy girls anyway sooo), takes place back when you first had your second twins.

SUMMARY: Lewis loves your baby weight.<33

1|2|3|4|

✮✮✮✮

Your body changed after pregnancy, that was undeniable. It changed with your first and it changed with your second. But this time around Lewis really noticed it. It wasn’t a bad thing, but you would rather your body how it was two years ago.

Your belly poked just a little more, your breast were heavier, your thighs were thicker, hips wider, and your pants seemed to have sized up twice. Though it had been ten months since giving birth and you were the same ole Y/N, you couldn’t help but want back what you had just a little.

But you still felt pretty, your husband made sure you did. There were moments you caught him staring a little too hard at your cleavage, earning him a slap on the arm and scolding about the children still being around.

But could you blame him? Who wouldn’t look if their wife was casually carrying around a brand new wagon on her lower back? It was practically just begging him to make passes. He tried hard not to stare too hard, he really did for the simple fact that he wasn’t sure if you were insecure like you were the first time around, but the more he resisted, the more he wanted to look.

You were just soooo fine. He couldn’t believe he had you to himself.

Sneakily, while in the phase of trying not to stare so hard, he’d pass by you in the kitchen, purposely but subtly brushing his front against your ass. Though the kitchen was big enough to do a damn cartwheel in even with a newly added peninsula, he still clung close to you.

He did it often but not enough to where you’d peep it too much, lingering touches on your hips and back along with longing eye contact until you’d break away and he’d take the opportunity to stare at your titties. He got away with it for some time until he brushed up on you one too many times in the kitchen and you caught him by the back of his collar and pulled him back towards you like a naughty dog.

“What are you doing?” You ask, already suspicious. He looks around in faked confusion, gently removing your hand away from his shirt and straightening the wrinkles you created.

“What’d you mean?”

Your head tilts at him with ‘Seriously?..’ written all over your face.

“Is there some kind of force field in the kitchen you can’t get by? Because you have been all up behind me all morning, sir” You pressed, taking a sip of your tea as you watch him attempt to come up with an excuse.

From that point on he knew he had been caught and stopped caring to hide it. It went from little touches and hidden glances to smacking your ass as you walked by him, leaving you a flustered mess, and shameless stares that made you wanna scream into a pillow to gather yourself.

Once you popped out socially and revealed your body to the world, there were mixed comments like always but nothing changed the views you had of yourself as you continued to move forward, and your husband just made it better for you.

It wasn’t always lust in his eyes, he just genuinely loved how he was here to watch nearly every stage of you. From young adult to a grown woman with a grown woman’s body (that he daydreamed about ravishing), constantly changing in beautiful ways not even he could fathom from a males perspective.

You were sexy two years ago and even sexier now, though he’d support you if you wanted to change. But until then, he would enjoy every single curve.

If you thought he was feral before, then how he was now needed a new word. He was on you like white on rice, peppered kisses on the wake up with a side of head from the back if you allowed it, which was hard not to give in to.

When he wasn’t with you or working he was with the children, masterfully getting the older twins to settle down in the living room before he’d immediately go find you in your office and make it his mission to pester you with his flirting. It was hard to be mad at him distracting you from work when he made every little word that fell from his lips sound so pretty.

“Lewis” You call, looking up from your designs to meet his gaze.

“Yes, my love?” He answers with a knowing smile.

“Stop flirting with your wife and go check on your busy bodied children”

He’d groan playfully at you, the word ‘wife’ still bringing him butterflies.

“Fine! You don’t like me today, it’s cool, I’ll change that tonight” He teased as you bashfully scold him once again, him stealing a quick kiss from your lips then making his way back out of the room to do exactly what he was told.

When night would fall he’d offer you a massage to soothe your body from the days work. Not entirely to just be a hornball but genuinely because he just liked to help. He also loved to be near you, to touch you. It was his love language and he got to express it thoroughly in these moments.

Sitting on the back of your bare thighs, he rubs warm oil into your recently washed skin, watching as his fingers dragged along your shoulders and sides, pressing into your back with his thumbs and massaging out whatever felt tense. You moaned happily and he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your neck.

It was times like this that really made you admire the man you chose to be yours.

✮✮✮✮

💌~ i wanted to make this into an actual smut but i got sleepy so fuck it 😭

[gallusrostromegalus]

AEIWAM: Wait, if there’s only one “moon”, and Hueco Mundo exists in the same plane of existence as soul society, how is it always night in Hueco Mundo, but day and night pass regularly in soul society?

...Who said there was only ONE moon? :)

Hueco Mundo is on the same PLANE of existence as Soul Society but notably Separate- like how Avatar Kiyoshi separated Kiyoshi island from the main continent, Hueco Mundo was separated from the main matter of Soul Society, but in a scenario that was a lot shittier and and involved a lot more murder and other craptastic behavior.

The "Moon" in Hueco Mundo is a Tulpa as well, and behaves according to how the population of Huceo Mundo believes it should- since most of that population is Hollowfied Animals who rely on the regular lunar cycle for biology, the moon in Hueco Mundo is actually still on it's regular cycle, but it runs backwards- as in, it travels from west to east across the sky, and it's always in the opposite phase of the moon in the living world. When it's a Full Moon in the living world, it's a new moon in Hueco Mundo. When it's a half moon in ht living world, it's also a half moon, but the other half in Hueco Mundo.

Nobody in the universe is quite sure WHY the moon in Hueco Mundo seems to be in an opposite tidal lock with the moon in the Living World, but since the Moon in Soul society has been doing whatever the hell it feels like for at least two thousand years, this probably isn't a bad thing.

The actual reason is that Hueco Mundo's atmosphere is SO heavily charged with Spirit energy that the hollowfied animals can more or less live on air alone. this means a Lizard from Hueco Mundo is packing about a hundred times the spiritual punch as a lizard in Soul Society. The More spiritually powerful animals in Hueco Mundo Memetically counterbalance the handful of Adjuchas and higher-class hollows, but the weaker lizards of Soul Society do not balance out the captain-class individuals in Soul Society. It's in tidal lock with The Actual Moon because that's the one the animals of Hueco Mundo remember. It's backwards, because to lizard logic, the afterlife is an inversion of the living world.

Nobody in or out of the narrative understands Lizard Logic.

There is actually daytime in Hueco Mundo! The Sun and The Sky in the afterlife is ALSO Tulpas and do not need to obey any more physics than anyone generally thinks they do, and the Lizards of Hueco Mudo are VERY SURE it's Hot Time now. The Sun in Soul Society is still behaving normally (approximately), and so is the one in Hueco Mundo- it just looks dark all the time because pretty much all the Sapient Residents of Hueco Mundo believe they have Gone Into That Great Night, and the Fauna of Las Noches cares about the heat more than the light, so The Sun in Hueco Mundo is functionally an Invisible ball of Heat, and the Sky is colored Black for the aesthetic.

TL;DR: There are two moons and an invisible daytime in Hueco Mundo because the lizards think there should be.

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE: TRICK OR TREAT!

masterlist

—

happy halloween! this is not an actual chapter unfortunately, so those who got their hopes up at an early release i’m SORRY 😓 however i consider it more fun! this is what each chapter from the sjap universe would wear on halloween🙂‍↕️ consider it 14.5! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did making it. also shoutout to my babygirl ree for helping me with these. I LOVE YOU BAD! <3

megumi fushiguro as BILLY LOOMIS

“ghostface? nah too basic” the raven states broadly.

sure scream was his favourite horror slasher but dressing up ghostface was too overrated, too tacky. he needed to go as someone more niche, someone he knows nobody would dress up as, someone hotter. introducing billy loomis! still the same franchise just a tad bit more creative! (not entirely but we’ll give him pity points) but man did that he look hot. the fake blood dripping down was the cherry on top. seeing his hair not entirely gelled up for the first time the guys realised he looked like his dad. like a lot

“no shit, we’re related” he said in front of the bathroom mirror as he wets his hair for the 3rd time, trying to perfect his look.

toge rolled his eyes, chewing on his toothpick

“ya know megumi you should’ve just went as ghostface, atleast no one would look at that makeshift shitty hair of yours” toge sneered

megumi turns around, hair soaked as he goes into punch the platinum blonde but misses as the water drips down his face into eyes as he stumbles back into the counter.

“woah slow down, the only person you’re gonna kill is yourself at this rate” yuta quips as he walks in to see what the commotion was going on in the bathroom.

megumi looks at yuta, then back at toge, then back at yuta. his head going side to side frivolously before bursting out laughing.

“what’s so funny?” yuta questioned

“didn’t pin you for the type of guy to dress up as a gay cowboy” he sneers, wiping both tears and the dripping water from his eyes.

toge inumaki & yuta okkotsu as ENNIS & JACK

“what do you mean gay cowboys?” yuta says, slowly turning to toge with an eyebrow raised.

“you mean you seriously never watched brokeback mountain?” megumi asks after recovering from his laugher fit

“am i supposed to?”

he looks at toge who was smirking with that stupid toothpick in his mouth, twirling it around.

“and i thought i was evil” he shakes his head chuckling.

yes, yuta did in fact not know that toge made him dress up as ennis and jack from brokeback mountain (yuta being ennis and toge being jack). in his defence toge did ask if he wanted to go as cowboys for halloween and yuta being yuta obviously said yes. though he did find it suspicious that toge wouldn’t let him pick out just any cowboy costume. he said he had a vision in his head and to just go with it. yuta just thought he was going for a niche version of a cowboy not the version where they’re two bestfriends fucking on top of a mountain. it’s far too late to change their costumes now, so yuta left their condo in what seemed to be “bro-love” going too far. on the other hand toge was EATING it up, strutting the down the streets in the “best costume” (his term) of the night. toge definitely forced yuta to make tiktoks to brokeback mountain audios throughout the night and def went viral LMFAO. poor yuta is embarrassed.

“oh my god, i am mortified” yuta says into his hands after hearing megumi explain the plot of brokeback mountain - he toned it down of course so it wouldn’t kill yuta.

“eh you’ll be fine, it’s not the worst costume in the world”

toge almost caught whiplash by how fast he turned his head. not the worst? what the fuck is that supposed to mean. he knows megumi can’t be talking looking like that.

“you know megumi, with all that blood you could pass as somebody’s diva cup” toge spits at him, obviously hurt.

“did somebody say diva?!”

yuji itadori as ROCKY BALBOA

yes yuji we are talking about you!

this may be fan service for ree… but guys TELL ME YOU DON’T SEE IT ASWELL? i could not find a rocky costume that i thought was fitting but imagine the second picture but with his shirt off🙂‍↕️ yeah…. just thinking thoughts…

yuji would be getting stared at ALL NIGHT and gets asked for tons of pictures in his costume because he looks so damn good. he definitely makes tiktok thirst trap edits because at the end of the day he’s still just a loser trapped in a hot body </3 the guys end up going through a haunted house and yuji actually gets scared and knocks one of the workers out… he blames it on method acting so he doesn’t get the cops called on him and somehow it works? also trust he is flexing his muscles the entire night and challenges literally everybody (mostly girls) to arm wrestle him. his go-to pick up line throughout the night is “if i win i get your number, if you win you get mine” and he winks at them before the countdown. CORNY but it works (i would fold as well sorry)

“yuji stop flexing yours abs for one second it’s gross, you look like a male prostitute” toge groans in disgust as he kicks rocks on the sidewalk”

“the correct term is actually jiggalo, and i think you’re just jealous that i’m hot and cool and you’re just a shitty gay cowboy” yuji replies back through a smile as he waves to everybody who’s pointing at him

“IT’S BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN”

“ooooo is that the name of the new club that opened?”

if you guys want more boxer yuji go read BATTERED N’ BLUE by the lovely @aozui <3

yn as MAXINE MINX

life being the baddest isn’t easy and it especially isn’t easy when it comes to choosing a halloween costume. between wanting to be hot, but also niche, but not too niche! but enough that it surpasses basic, but also fun... did i mention hot? so who better to dress up than someone who fits all the requirements than none other than maxine minx!

yn had this planned months ago. she wanted everything to be perfect down to a T, and she was not the type to pull something last minute out of her ass. she was not going to put on an amazon corset and call it a day. hell, it wasn't even just her, the whole apartment had planned their costumes in june. if serving cunt was a dysfunctional group of roommates it was them. think bodies bodies bodies x scream 6... yeah i would not want to be their enemies if a psycho killer was going around murdering people. and best believe their group pictures are turning out so hot (partly due to the personal photographer they booked before LMFAO) but everyone knows the other part is their well-thought-out costumes.

"oh my god did you really bleach your eyebrows for this" a familiar voice commented at her as she walked into the kitchen.

"the dedication is crazy, but i guess you still look hot."

a smile broke out of her, still focusing on preparing drinks for the party of the century.

"it's just concealer babe", she replies as she looks up from the drink station to where she was met with nobara, who was sitting on the sage love chair in an all too familiar pose.

"no fucking way... are you-?"

nobara kugisaki as CATHERINE TRAMELLE

what’s better than one cover girl? two cover girls!!! or in this case replace cover girl with evil femcel maneater final boss!

the party girls have a tradition of watching a horror/slasher movie each sunday during october, so when nobara said she hasn't watched basic instinct last year, trust it was the first movie they watched on that first sunday.

"ugh, i just know she would of made a bomb fucking costume for halloween", nobara groans.

"too bad you're already going as marie antoinette" panda sighs.

"there's always next year" yn states, clearing up the popcorn on the coffee table.

and next year indeed.

meticulously choosing each article of clothing and hand picking accessories so she could be the emodiment of catherine tramelle. even though she was one glass of red wine away from being mistaken as a housewife of beverly hills, it didn't matter. dressing up as someone so smart, so sinister, so sexy was the principle itself. she didn't care if nobody understood who she was or being asked if she knew it was a halloween party, not a dinner at nobu - she knew she was that fucking girl. but of course, most people knew who she was, even the cute girl standing by the drinks station who was ogling her the entire night and who so badly wanted nobara's number. spoilers: she got it.

"i can't believe you actually stuck with", yn says after managing to close her jaw.

"god you look hot"

nobara smirks at her reaction.

"i wasn't going to let the opportunity slip pass that easily" nobara smirks to herself.

before yn could respond, a loud bang followed by the sound of a door being slammed interrupted her train of thought.

"FUCK!"

both the girls' heads whipped around the find a panicking maki pacing out her room.

"has anyone seen my anastasia lip liner?" she huffs, crossing her arms.

maki zenin as BETTY BOOP

the look, the lips, the hips, the taste… everybody please welcome miss zenin!!!

"no but have you seen an extra pair of panties? i need to change."

i mean this costume was in the works since her hair cut. i mean come on… IT’S PERFECT? maki as betty boop? nah betty boop as maki zenin! uh huh nodding my head right now. an iconic if not the iconic costume in the apartment. maki is not one to typically wear dresses - mostly sticking to jeans, shorts & skirts and the occasional jorts but DRESSES? you’d have to be either jesus or yuta to convince her to put one on let alone a mini dress. and good lord she looked good. yuta almost had a heart attack when she sent him a picture of her costume. yeah it was gonna be a long night for him.

she rolled her eyes at the remark but can’t help the smile that betrays her facade. she looks over to the silhouette standing in the hallway, almost… waiting?

“panda we aren’t playing a theme song just for you to come out just show us your costume already”, maki sighs

he stomps into the living room with a sulk in his step.

“you guys are boring bitches”, he huffs.

panda as a SONNY ANGEL

the girls all had their mouths shaped in an ‘o’ as he entered, hands on hips - giving the most sass imaginable.

“panda what happened”, nobara stifled a giggle behind her hand.

so this was not panda's original costume but his backup one... unfortunately for him, his original costume was to go as a slutty version of batman but he was then met with his long awaited karma..

RIIIIIIP

“oh my fucking god” he said to himself as he hesitantly checks the back of his costume. he finds a hole right where his left ass cheek is.

a big one.

luckily for him, he’s immune to costume malfunctions and bought a back up for times like this. sure it wasn’t as creative or risqué as slutty batman but it was the next best thing.

“i don’t want to talk about”, he mumbles, earning an eruption of laughs from the girls.

he stood there in silence as they speculate what on earth could have happened to his original costume. eventually he told them which then lead to another fit of giggles. atleast that was over. they had a party to plan. and besides, sonny angels are supposed to bring you good luck right?

wrong.

the night was a mess. panda got atleast 7 different drinks spilt on him that night and almost got into a fight with todo because he won the ‘best costume’ contest. (he was a passenger seat and mai was chappel roan).

—

BONUS COSTUMES!

as we know there are two weekends where halloween is celebrated, and this year is no different. debate after debate, "should we celebrate halloween the week before or 2 days after the actual event?" well, why not both! both the party girls and tridant came together to complete the "maze of death" (it was just a corn maze, famous for the actors jump scaring you every now and then - similar to the haunted house the boys went to, but much more intense) these set of costumes are what both groups wore on halloweekend 2 + how each character would react during a haunted maze!

megumi as THE SCARECROW

megumi got confused and thought yn’s costume last week was hers this week and decided to match with her without telling her. (he thought it would of scored him brownie points) though when he found out yn was dressed up as someone else he was immediately embarrassed. yn thought it was adorable how he tried to match with her so called costume and gave him a kiss on the cheek as a recognition for his efforts. (definitely got those brownie points)

he walks WAY ahead. he wants it OVER with >"if i walk faster, they can't get me" type mf. he's miserable but can't take yn laughing behind him at all. he’s going through many stages of grief.

he unfortunately has to lead the group through it even though he's pretty scared himself, but he calms himself by saying "toge def was worse" or some shit. (spoilers he was in fact worse)

yuji as XANDRA

i hate gay halloween, what do you mean you’re xandra from papa’s freezeria?

oh he scares the workers BACK. my king.

had full intentions of scaring yuta during it but got caught off guard and accidentally punched the workers that personally jump-scared him because he's automatically triggered into fight or flight mode like no tomorrow.

yn & toge as SHARPAY AND RYAN EVANS

they came up with this idea when toge was at their apartment doing the usual antics (eating all their food) and saw yn watching high school musical. told her it would make a pretty good halloween costume as a duo and he saw the bulb light up in her head.

first they have a competition who won't be scared but i fear they are desperately clinging onto each other 10 seconds in then act like NOTHING happened once they exit toge is scared so much he can't talk, yn is pale as fuck, and they agree to never talk about it.

(yn says she won the competition 2 hours later)

maki & yuta as a COP AND PRISONER

everyone awwed at them when they saw their costumes. i mean how could you not? #coupleoftheyear

oh yeah so…. yuta wanted to ditch at the entrance but maki hauled his ass with her. he doesn't do well at all, he pukes at the end and maki just patted him on the back.

maki has a poker face throughout the whole thing. does not gaf. she is not scared at all and corrects how they can be scarier to their FACE mid scare. the workers almost walk out.

nobara & panda as the BEE & COOKIE

committing to the ynmegumi bit so bad im ctfu.

panda’s more depressed about how he missed the volunteer dates in order to work at it. but like yuta, he screams so much it haunts nobara’s ears. he screams like a little girl. he almost pisses his pants and hides behind nobara but it makes him a BIGGER target because ofc they're gonna see a 6 ft giant trying to hide??? the haunted house workers def bully panda in the groupchat after their shift ends. he tries to act all tough afterwards saying he "handled it like a champ".

nobara has an average reaction ywkim, she does scream and does get scared but she's literally fine. she NEVER lets panda live it down though, she has a video of panda screaming too.

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[imfinereallyy]

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***