#been staring at the same google docs for a week

[apinktrashcan]

Born to imagine forced to write

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win. 

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic. 

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold. 

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors. 

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled. 

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?” 

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five. 

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington. 

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then. 

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything. 

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium. 

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again. 

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms. 

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders. 

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored. 

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil. 

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand. 

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.” 

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place. 

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent. 

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks. 

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked. 

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?” 

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”  

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over. 

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask. 

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock. 

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink. 

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t. 

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.” 

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him. 

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours. 

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod. 

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever. 

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand. 

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.” 

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.  

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him. 

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you. 

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.” 

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family. 

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.  

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle. 

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?” 

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness. 

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?” 

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say. 

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly. 

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.” 

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.” 

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got. 

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.  

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver. 

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since. 

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious. 

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different. 

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour. 

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.” 

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.” 

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”  

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier. 

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned. 

“Steve Harrington.” 

“Oh.” 

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.” 

“Okay, what was he like?” 

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.” 

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness. 

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be. 

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two. 

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over. 

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.  

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.  

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.” 

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today. 

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process. 

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner. 

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table. 

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.” 

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.” 

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.” 

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?” 

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose. 

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry. 

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep. 

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him. 

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left. 

“You guys okay in there?” 

“Yup!”

“Yes!”  

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine. 

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him. 

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes. 

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep. 

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped. 

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in. 

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets. 

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?” 

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids. 

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else. 

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again. 

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.” 

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing. 

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind. 

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.  

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…” 

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so. 

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought. 

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing. 

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you. 

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

PART TWO

let me know ur thoughts<333

[suugarbabe]

completely fine if not!! just wanted to ask if in the end you were going to write the Mattheo x animagus!reader thingy i sent in some time back, but absolutely just out of curiosity!! i hope i don't come across as pressuring or similar, because i'm also very excited for your other projects and i can't wait to read them!!🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Omggggg I’m trash I’m trash I’m trash! I swear I did have this done. It’s right here. I’m so sorry I had this in my Google docs and lately I’ve been working straight from my inbox so I forgot I even completed it. Please don’t hate me I’m so sorry love :((

One of your favorite things about being in your cat form was basking in the sun. It really helped whenever you were stressed, or anxious, or tired, or whenever you really just needed to get away from other people. Today's basking came from just needing to clear your head.

You stretched your little black paws out, letting out a soft meow like yawn before turning on your side right in a sun spot. You were nearly drifted off into a light sleep when you hear someone slump against the other side of the tree.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you slowly stalked around the trunk to see none other than Mattheo Riddle. He didn’t notice you at first, his head sitting in his hands and breathing deeply.

You nuzzled your head against his thigh, his head snapping up at the motion. “Well hello there, beautiful,” he get your head an affection pet, looking around the courtyard for another person, “Are you out here by yourself? Where is your owner?”

You nudged his hand with the top of your head. He laughed lightly, “Okay, okay, I get the picture.” He started to lightly scratch the space between your ears, earning an affection purr from you.

You stayed cuddling with Mattheo like that for a good hour before he had to go. He said his apologies to you, saying he hoped he ran in to you again soon. You rubbed yourself against his legs before he left, then you went and sat in the sun again.

Later that day at lunch, you were talking with Susan Bones when Mattheo came and sat down next to you, a rather large smile on his face. You rested your head in your hand as you turned to look at him, an inquisitive look on your face.

Mattheo caught you staring, “What? Something on my face, Princess?” You laughed, dipping your finger in the pudding bowl next to you before tapping his nose, “You’ve got some pudding right about…there.”

Mattheo’s mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh you’re gonna pay for that later, Y/l/n. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” This sentence caught your attention, “Oh? And what has put Mattheo in a good mood today?”

His smile was smug, “I made a new friend. Well, she’s a cat. But she’s beautiful and cuddly and…you know what I should just show you. She seems to hang out in the courtyard.”

Mattheo grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the Great Hall. You gave Susan an apologetic look, but see only seemed to be smirking. When you reached the courtyard, Mattheo was disappointed to see the cat was not there. You tried to give him a sympathetic look, without giving away that you knew why the cat was no longer there.

The next morning Mattheo found you again, in cat form. Giving you cuddles and ear stretches and belly rubs. It was the most physical affection Mattheo had shown you, even if he didn’t really know it was you. But you couldn’t give it up, not with the crush you’ve had on him for the last two years.

At lunch the same day Mattheo tried to show you the car, again. But again, it wasn’t there. For obvious reason. It went on like this about every other day for two weeks. Mattheo would find cat you in the morning, he started talking to you, telling you why he was upset, or about his day, his worries.

You started to feel a little bad every time he tried to show you the cat and it not being there. But nothing could prepare you for what Mattheo was essentially confessing one morning.

You were laying in his lap, stretched out while he made gentle circles on your belly. “Have you ever had feelings for someone that you weren’t sure if they liked you back?” You looked up at him from his lap, your little black ears perking up at his question.

He huffed to himself, “What am I saying, you’re a cat. You just look for rubs and cuddles. Ugh, gorgeous I really like this one girl. But we’re such good friends I don’t know if I should tell her. I keep trying to show her you. I really want to have something just between us, think maybe it’ll bring us closer,” Mattheo picked you up, holding you so your body stretched down but your little cat nose and his were nearly touching, his tone turning to baby voice, “but you always seem to be gone when I bring her, don’t you beautiful?”

He sighed, setting you down. You felt so guilty. You had to tell him the truth, you started running towards a set of trees on the other side of the courtyard. Your mad dash away startled Mattheo, him getting up and trying to chase after you.

Once behind the pair of trees, you transformed back to your regular self. Mattheo peaked around the trees, jumping back slightly when he saw you, his face quickly turning in to a smile, “Y/n/n, did you see her? The cat. She came right this way.”

You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “Teo…I, I am the cat.” Mattheo let out a chuckle, “What do you mean, love?”

You took a deep breath, looking down at the ground, “I, erm, I’m an animagus. A black cat more specifically. It’s why…why, erm, you could never show me her. Well, I was her.”

There was silence. You waited a beat, expecting him to be upset for keeping a secret or get upset for allowing him to be so vulnerable and essentially lying to him for the last three weeks.

What you didn’t expect was his arms to wrap around you, for him to pull you close and squeeze you tight before pulling back, “That is so bad ass.”

Your face broke out into a smile, “Really? You’re not, like, made or anything? I know I should’ve told you sooner but I just…liked being close to you. Even if it had to be that way.”

You met his eyes shyly, only to be met by his shining, “Y/n/n, this is seriously so cool. Merlin, I thought I loved you before but this is so amazing. You’re so amazing, beautiful, gorgeous. Human form and cat.”

Mattheo’s eyes widen at the realization of his confession. “I, erm, I’m sorry I-”

“I love you too, Teo,” you cut him off. He flashed you a dimpled smile, “Yeah?” You nodded your head, lifting up on your tip toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, which instantly flamed.

He looked at you with shy eyes, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “Now that you’re secrets out, don’t think we could maybe…erm, use your animagus to prank the other boys one day?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, nodding, “Under one condition.”

Mattheo placed his hands on your waist, “What’s that, love?”

You couldn’t resist the urge to be cheesy in the moment, “You call me officially yours, both human and cat form.” Mattheo’s smile widen impossibly larger. “That I can do, Princess,” he leaned in, stealing another sweet kiss from your lips.

[kumquats-are-gay]

sparing with Johnny, and you pin him down only to find that he's rock hard, maybe some teasing/sex? idk idk

(TF YOU MEAN “idk”?? THIS PROMPT IS HEAT AND I’M ‘BOUTTA COOK!! 🔥💯😤)

Johnny Cage x gn!reader (SFW/NSFM)

NOTE: This will be a two-parter because I just couldn't wait to post what I had already, lmao. This first part only has sexual themes and foreplay, while the second part will have actual smut (also, while this first part is totally GN, the second part will be mentioning afab anatomy, but I will still be using GN pronouns). I'm sorry this took so long to get to; I've been working almost every day for the past two weeks and ya girl is tired, lol. Was super excited to write for this though! :D

ALSO I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW ACTUAL FIGHTING WORKS I JUST MADE SHIT UP LMAO PLS DON'T COME AT ME

Pasted straight from Google Docs and NOT proofread, so please excuse any grammatical/continuity errors/syntax and formatting. I am also still VERY much an amateur writer so pls go easy on me <3

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51869623

Come On With a Come-on

         For a ‘professional’, Johnny Cage is about the least professional person you’ve ever met. Propriety must be a foreign concept to him with how frequently he flirts with you, especially on set—you know, in front of all of your colleagues and crew? The man was shameless in his relentless pursual of you, like a goddamn dog with a bone. And worst of all? You liked it, and this fact frustrated you to no end. 

         How could you possibly be attracted to someone who is so insufferably arrogant, loud-mouthed, and impossibly far up his own ass? An ass that, admittedly, you find yourself staring at whenever you think he isn’t looking. But, because you’re an actual professional, you’ve rebuffed his every attempt to seduce you thus far. Plus, you had a reputation to keep and dignity to hold onto; you weren’t sullying either when the likely outcome would involve your face and name on countless tabloids. 

         Without warning, his stupid, smug, and incredibly handsome smile invades your mind, and you suddenly find yourself wanting nothing more than to punch it off of his unfairly chiseled jaw.

         …or maybe kiss it off.

         “Grah!” you abruptly shout while burying your hands in your hair, momentarily tugging at the roots in annoyance. God, you had a problem. 

         Bzzt.

         “Huh?” You look down at your hip where your phone had just buzzed in your pocket. You pull it out and flick your finger across the screen to unlock it, then tap on the messaging icon.

         Johnny Cage: Hey, wanna spar later? 👊👊

         You raised a brow. You and Johnny worked in the same sphere for a reason. Action films were your guys’ bread and butter since the both of you knew how to fight as well as do your own stunts. 

         You and Johnny hung out casually here and there, but the two of you had never sparred before. You sensed an opportunity in his proposal, though: an effective way to get your frustration out on the source of said frustration. Shrugging, you figure, ‘why not?’

         You: Yeah, I’m down. But I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into b/c I won’t be holding back!

         Johnny: Woah, don’t go threatening me with a good time ;) 

         Your stomach twirled in unbidden delight at the cheeky response, and you internally chastised yourself for being so easily affected by this man. You and Johnny sorted out the details of your meetup—his place, late afternoon—and returned your phone to your pocket. You would just have to kill some time until then.

~~~

         “Of course you would have your own gym, and of course it’s fuckin’ huge,” you joked with a bit of sarcasm, yet enough lightheartedness as to not offend. Though, you doubt Johnny could be so easily offended; he’s got way too much self-confidence (for better or for worse) to be put down that easily.

         “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen ‘huge’ yet,” he boasted with a smirk. The wink that followed did nothing to abate the heat that was slowly taking over your body, but you did your best not to let the effects show. Since when were easy, immature innuendos such a turn on for you? You just closed your eyes and shook your head.

         “Alright, I am definitely knocking you on your ass for that one.”

         “Hah, see if you can, sweetheart!”

         The two of you stood in your  respective corners and took your stances. One quick little countdown later, and the game was on. 

        You knew Johnny was a very good fighter being a martial arts expert and all, but you didn’t realize he was that good. In all honesty, you figured he was more bark than bite, and that you’d have no real problem going toe-to-toe with him. Unfortunately, it seems like you may have underestimated him. It turns out that Johnny Cage was one of the rare few you had met who could back up their arrogance. Bully for you.

        Furthermore, this shithead was fighting dirty! Well, okay—technically he wasn’t fighting dirty. He was just talking after all, and there’s nothing wrong or “illegal” with that. But it was a dirty tactic regardless, and it only infuriated you further with how helpless you were to try and block him out.

        You pivot sharply on one foot and  use the momentum to lift and swing the other around, aiming the kick at his head. You expect him to duck under such a high-reaching maneuver—maybe he’d follow up with a low sweep with your single foot planted on the ground—so you prepare yourself to counter this. See, before you went into acting, fighting was your primary activity; you won many tournaments and managed to make a decent living off of it. One of the main things you were known for were your notoriously powerful kicks; few would risk trying to outright block them rather than moving out of the way.

         You must have forgotten who you were up against; that was the only reasonable explanation for your short-sightedness. You were not distracted by him or anything like that, thank you very much. Johnny-fucking-Cage just lifts an arm and grabs your leg. With one hand. Like it was nothing.

         The impact creates a loud smack! that briefly leaves you dumbfounded; you felt the force of that blow against his palm, and it was enough to leave the skin there tingling unpleasantly. Johnny didn’t look phased in the least bit with a crooked smile dancing across his handsome features, just gripping your ankle. Casually. Like you weren’t currently being held in the near-vertical splits.

         Johnny took this fleeting opportunity to give you a quick once-over, and his smile only grew. “Nice legs,” he quipped, “bet they’d look a lot nicer over my shoulders.” You openly gaped at his brazenness, and he used your shock to his advantage, flipping you in one fell swoop. You grunted when your back hit the mat underneath you, but the heat that overwhelmed your person (caused by your anger and fury, obviously) had you back up in a flash.

         “Best two out of three,” you nearly seethed. Johnny had the audacity to appear as anything but intimidated. In fact, he seemed rather amused.

         “You know, you’re like, really hot when you’re mad.”

         You nearly flung yourself at him in a mindless bout of rage, but caught yourself only a split moment before you could make such a devastating mistake. A delightful idea quickly sprang to mind—two could play at this game. 

         You kept up the facade of indignation and outrage in order to trick Johnny into thinking that you actually were going to make that blind charge at him. You stepped off of your dominant foot, using the momentum to make a lunge for him. He braced himself to counter your head-on attack, but you feigned right at the last possible second, swiftly gripped his shoulder with your left hand, and brought your right leg in against the back of his knee to buckle it. Johnny was quick to recover, though, keeping enough of his balance to twist and grapple with you as his leg nearly gave out. 

         Ah, so it was time for plan B.

         Before he could finish off the move, you brought your face right up to his, making sure that the two of you were making eye contact, and looked at him with sensual purpose. It was almost enough to disarm him, so to ensure you had the upper hand, you threw him another curveball with a breathy, “I wonder if you fuck as good as you fight.” 

         That did the trick. Johnny’s mind was sent reeling with your seemingly out-of-pocket comment, and you jumped at the chance to knock him flat on his ass. Johnny got the wind knocked from him as he landed with a resounding thump. Not wasting a minute, you straddled yourself across his hips and held his wrists against the floor mat. While Johnny had more raw strength than you, you hoped that the KO would leave him dizzy enough to keep him subdued.

         “Ha! Gotcha!” you barked out in triumph. Johnny just blinked up at you in a daze as his response. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the taste of your own medi-” you had cut yourself off when you felt something stiff beneath your pelvis. ‘What…? Wait, is he…’

         “Are you hard right now?!” you squawked incredulously. Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and gave you an audacious smirk, as if to say, ‘Uh, yeah I guess so. What about it?’ You were flabbergasted. “I can not believe you right now!” You released his wrists and made to get up, but he grabbed your hips before you could get away. Damn it, his body was so warm, and…holy shit he felt big.

         “Woah now, hang on just a tick,” he spoke like he was trying to soothe a startled horse. This fucking asshole! Why, just why did you have to fall for him? “It is very difficult not to pop a boner when I’m getting up close and personal to the most gorgeous person I know,” he spoke with an immense amount of charm and a surprising measure of sincerity. Your eyes widened comically before you squinted at him with a healthy amount of suspicion. 

         “Oh, really now? And I don’t suppose you’ve used that line with every other person you’ve taken to bed, hm?”

         Johnny just sighed like he was the exasperated one here. “Darling, I’ve been laying it on thick for half a year now. There’s no way I’d still be after you just to get into your pants.” He looked at you with this sort of ‘duh’ expression on his face, like he couldn’t possibly understand your confusion. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: you’ve got just the kind of body that I love,” he added, and you nearly clocked him then and there, but you relaxed again as he spoke further, “but I’ve come to really like spending time with you. There’s never a day that I don’t look forward to working with you on set, you know.” And, just like that, you felt like the stupidest person on the planet for denying yourself something that you evidently could have had for a long time now. 

         You hung your head low and shook it from side to side in disappointment of yourself. You fool. You buffoon. You absolute imbecile. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Johnny took this the wrong way, looking offended, and opened his mouth to say something. However, you were quick to shut him up with a short yet firm kiss of which he wasted no time in returning. He ground his hips against yours in short, desperate thrusts like there would never be another chance to do so, and you eagerly mirrored his movements like they might be your last. Without warning, he rolled the two of you over to flip your positions. Sprawled out beneath him with your hands held beneath his own, Johnny thought you looked like a dream.

         “By the way, I think you’ll find that not only do I fuck as good as I fight, but I fuck like I fight, too—hard n’ fast,” he intoned in a voice nearly an octave deeper. 

         You squirmed in anticipation at his words, and retorted with equal huskiness, “let’s see it then.”

[strniohoeee]

Alternate ending to hidden in the shadows or a part 5 PLEAAAASEEEEE (anonymous request)

Hidden In The Shadows- Alternate Ending

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: After a year of no sign of Matt, Y/N has given up. While working on a paper for a publisher she feels eyes on her…. Is her paranoia justified or no?✉️

Warnings⚠️: NONE, I’m rusty asf so don’t judge me this is pure trash🫶🏽😋

Song for imagine: West End Girls- Pet Shop Boys

Sometimes you’re better off dead

There’s a gun in your hand and it’s

Pointing at your head

You think you’re mad, too unstable

Sitting at the cafe I peered out the window as my fingers stopped abruptly. My thoughts suddenly come to a halt, struggling to form another sentence.

“I think I’ve been going at this for too long” I mumble to myself as I wiggle my fingers, bringing them up to my face and rubbing my eyes roughly

My old professor had asked me to edit and add to my writings on everything that had taken place. He was trying to bring my work to a highly reputable publishing company. However, everything I could have ever written was in these papers.

I was stressing myself out horribly because I was trying to make something out of nothing. Hitting save I pinched the bridge of my nose as I closed out my Google Docs tab. Shaking my leg anxiously I bit my lip.

A daunting thought gnawing at me. What if I just searched up Matt’s name? I mean I would have some form of closure right?

Opening the safari tab I felt a chill run down my spine as I felt like eyes were on me. I just assumed it was my guilty and paranoid conscience. Shaking the feeling off I googled Matt’s name and address.

To my surprise I saw one news article about this small town. Looking off my shoulders slyly, I opened the article. My eyes glanced over the title rapidly.

“Pleasant Town natives car found burned and body missing”

My heart sank immediately. Scrolling down I read the full article. Coming to find out that Matt’s car had been found burnt and crushed a week after I fled. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief? But also a sense of anxiety?

I mean glad that he might’ve gotten away, but also anxious thinking of the what ifs? Like what if he was killed?

Staring off into space as I looked out the window I suddenly felt eyes on me again. Straightening my posture I happened to glance down at my now dark laptop screen.

My eyes furrowed as I saw a man in the back of the cafe looking at me through the reflection on the screen. My eyes widened a bit and I rapidly turned around.

I Wished I hadn’t because there was no one sitting at that back table. And I now look like a paranoid psycho infront of all these people. Sighing I let my shoulders slouch shaking my head I shut my laptop

As I packed my things up I happened to look out the window and I made eye contact with that same mysterious person again.

Shoveling everything into my backpack I grabbed everything in a rush. Looking up to see the person tilting their hat down and turning around to walk away.

Rushing out the cafe I squinted my eyes as the cold air hit my eyes. The wind whipping my hair into my eyes as I flung my backpack over my shoulders.

Rushing to run across the street just barely avoiding getting hit by cars. Sticking my hand out in a sincere tone I jumped onto the next street.

Following hot on their tail I was speed walking. Roughly pulling the hair from in front of my eyes. We turned on a corner and it happened to only be us two.

This person having a major advantage over me, I began to jog slightly

“HEY!” I yelled out but to no avail

Something about this person seemed so familiar, and I was started to get scared

“HEY! I’m not trying to seem like a stalker, but I think I know you from somewhere” I yelled out and still this person tilted their head and kept walking

Rolling my eyes I began to walk faster and was able to grab their shoulder

“I SAID HEY” I replied firmly as I gripped their shoulder roughly

Stopping in my tracks abruptly, my voice caught in my throat. My eyes stinging from the wind, tears threatening to fall out

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be looking at him again….

“Matt?” I said squinting my eyes and tilting my head

His eyes softening as he looked around

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” he said grabbing me shoving us into a corner

“What the fuck happened to you? I thought you died? No contact for a year?” I said angry and saddened

“What else was I supposed to do? I had a target on my back and you had one on your head” he replied sinking into his coat a little more

“Matthew I was so fucking worried about you” I said as I pulled him in for a hug

“I was worried about you too, that’s why I’ve been keeping my distance” he said

“For how long?” I replied

“For a year” he said shamefully

“A year?” I screeched out

“Listen I had to watch you from a distance I didn’t know how safe it was for me to immediately come to you” he stated

“I’m just so glad you’re safe” I replied shaking my head in shock

“I always keep my eyes open for anyone who might come back from our past” Matt says to me as he pulls me in for another hug

“I can only imagine how tiring that gets for you” I said to him

“A little bit, but I’m used to it” he replied

That night we went back to my apartment and Matt went over exactly how he fled. His perfect elaborate scheme that surprisingly everyone believed.

The fear I dealt with since leaving was indescribable. Many nights I’d wake up in a cold sweat thinking I had been found and that I was about to be killed.

But to know Matt had been keeping an eye on me for a year made me feel better. I’m not sure what I’d do without Matt. Our bond was inseparable and since he came back I knew I had to protect him at all costs because he was no longer

Hidden in the shadows….

The End

Yall this was shit bc I’m rusty AF, but also I didn’t really want to end this fanfic on a happy note LMFAOOO. But anyways I love yall dearly for all the continued support. My requests are closed as I got 12 requests (oh yeah baby). THANK YOUUU AND ILYYY���🖤🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[subwaytostardew]

▽ Subway to Stardew - Emmet 8-Heart Event ▽

This plays after getting at least 8 hearts with Emmet and entering the Railroad between 9AM - 4PM on a Thursday after viewing his 7 heart event.

You recieve this letter when you reach 8 hearts with Emmet!

Commentary and progress under the readmore.

▷ Station Steward Thylak

I DID NOT REALIZE THAT THIS EVENT WOULD BE THAT LONG... I could have sworn it was around 14 minutes max! I was worried that the battle stuff went by too quickly! It's almost 30 minutes long! And that's with me clicking away faster! Emmet really meant it when he said he wanted to spend all the livelong day together...

I thought it was going to be roughly 18 minutes. NOPE. WOOPS. This what happens when you write possibly too much.

We are bad at making short events. Vanilla events are around 1-3 minutes long. A day in Stardew lasts 14 minutes and 10 seconds. I would not recommend trying to play this mod spoiler free on multiplayer because time does not freeze and you will die if you don't skip the events. I wouldn't want to shorten the events either... Cutting down their infodumps would just be wrong.

We had a few requests to have a battle event which made me 😅 because I personally couldn't imagine that going well (truth over ideals...). This event was partially made to shut that idea down. The whole tunnel scene is mostly me trying to write an in-story reason as to why there won't be a battle with the farmer against Ingo... Emmet is competitive! This is not just limited to battles but extends to being your best friend! Behind the scenes... I'm just too tired to write out more battles. I actually really dislike single battle format. I'm not making an Ingo battle event. You already have three games to battle him in. I refuse to make more battle events for the time being.

I say that but there's another half-finished double battle event between submas that I switched tracks from to work on Emmet's 8 heart event... I'll finish that eventually.

Anyways... the creation process did not go by quickly at all either. I sure do have a lot to say on that matter. I do all my coding in google docs (terrible, I know) and so far we have had to make 3 seperate documents becuase things start to break at around 40 pages. The document before Emmet's 8 heart event made it to 64 pages before I abandoned it for a new document.

The longest document we have is around 80 pages along. Which usually contain the draft scripts of multiple events. code documents however take up a lot more since it's basically a giant wall of text. So when Emmet's 8 heart event started to slow down the current code document (the third iteration). We had to give the event its own space.

Emmet's 8 heart event ended up being 36 pages long alone! Also if you didn't know, Stardew's event format doesn't allow for line breaks so I have been staring at a 36 page wall of text for weeks. I plan to upload a video compiling all the different options later because I feel like all of the "good" options for battle... don't quite make sense in the context of the rest of the story. The farmer is supposed to not be good at battle and lose because they got overwhelmed with information. As the one writing out all the battle options though, I can't bring myself to act like I'm bad at battling. The winning options are extra silly just to justify a loss and because I couldn't bring myself to lie about Wild Charge not being a guaranteed OHKO on Archeops either. Especially since Emmet brings out damage calculations in a few of the options.

On that topic, all of the battle options play out accurately in a real double battle! I tested. Every. Single. Path. In Pokemon Showdown between the halves of Emmet's team.

I had nightmares of reliving this same battle over and over because that's all I did when I was awake. Make it stopppppp 😭

The lines about them practicing were references to me actually simulating everything in Showdown! Emmet's frustration is also based on how making this event took over my brain so now I struggle to comprehend how someone who doesn't know what to do in this battle would feel... Thank you Kade for helping me with that part ^^;;;

Your welcome =3

I actually enjoyed the Pokémon Showdown part - when it comes to Pokémon Battles, I have dabbled a little bit into the competitive side of things. Or at least the massive game of 4D Chess... trying to predict your opponent etc. Bait them into making a mistake, etc. There was a good time where we did nothing but Pokémon Battles for a night. And it was fun.

I am in no way good at competitive side of things - (I lose lot but that's okay.) especially in the double battle format. Single Battles I could do. (Though once again, I'm average at best) However I think the most memorable battle I ever had was back in Pokémon X and Y, where I managed to chip away and stall a Mega Aggron with a Umbreon.. And I think Umbreon was my last Pokémon but I kept using Moonlight to keep my health up. My kid self was super surprised and ecstatic that I beaten the odds... but whenever I do Pokémon Showdown I'm either testing battle stuff or making teams. I'm addicted to team compositions and doing a combination of different Pokémon even if it's not the competitive Meta....

I have the choices sorted into good/bad routes in my mind so in most of the routes, Emmet criticizes the player's decisions based on type advantage, STAB, and target. I was torn between the best and worst options for this recording but thanks to Kade's input, you get to see Durant ramming into Emmet instead of him getting mad at you for conducting Shadow Claw on Galvantula.

Battling Emmet as a first time trainer is not going to go well! Not only is he too competitive and he refuses to let you win (unlike Ingo), he pretty much sets you up for failiure. I'm sorry Emmet but Galvantula's stats are not intended for making her a physical attacker (emphasis on the Egg Move at what cost...).

Not to mention... Emmet is a Battle Facility Head. And you don't get to battle the Subway Bosses in the mainline games unless you have a somewhat decent team halfway through the game. Even still! They can both wipe the floor with you if you're not aware that they are using battle items...

Though I interpret Emmet not going easy on someone as him challenging them to push themselves and exceed expectations. Both Ingo and Emmet as characters encourage others in their own way, Ingo through words and Emmet I believe through his actions. Though he also can say some encouraging things.

Not the most encouraging if you compare their quotes pages... Customer service and communication isn't exactly his forte... But Emmet wants you to do your best and win against him! He likes seeing serious battlers like him! He just won't let you win unless if you push yourself to do your best. You'll have to. He doesn't really have the most beginner-friendly approach...

Considering you the Farmer, have no idea what a Pokémon even is. (You're practically learning everything from Ingo, Emmet, Elesa etc.) The fact you get challenged to a Battle because Emmet wants to share his interests with you - to have you better understand Pokémon.

He just struggles with the fact that, he is essentially challenging someone with no real battle experience and it's a Double Battle at that. Controlling two Pokémon at once?! Think about the effort it takes to command one Pokémon. We all seen the Anime and how trainers struggle to connect with their partners because they're new. They're just starting. They aren't going to be Battle Facility levels of skill.

Not to mention that Emmet is a little deprived in the valley and hasn't really battled any other new passengers in quite some time. At most, he battled Iris once when she came to visit, Ingo (who's Pokemon are optimized for countering/pissing him off), and himself (I had the mental image of him sitting in the field practicing for this event like an old man playing chess against himself in a park). He's a little too far gone to fully understand what a beginner would think in this situation other than mayyyybe it would take a moment to catch them up to speed. (I would know... I swear those option paths rewired my brain...)

After inputting all of their data into Showdown, I had actually forgotten that Galvantula and Durant are Emmet's Doubles Line team while Eelektross and Archeops are the Super Doubles Line team when deciding the matchups. (Been a while since they were in the Battle Subway huh...) Story-wise, I was thinking that Emmet should be with his ace and that he wouldn't really trust anyone else with Archeops since... he has higher support needs (depression bird 💔). Eelektross and Archeops are paired up because of Gastro Acid and Defeatist. I was thinking that Galvantula and Durant are a bit more beginner-friendly; they can take a loss a bit more easilly (a little less so in Galvantula's case... she's a hater). The farmer had already met Durant earlier in the 4-heart event so he'd volunteer to return the favor of fighting for you. Once you win his trust, he's more than happy to help. As for Galvantula... She's testing to see if she can trust her clingy child with you.

I'm excited to dive into the Pokémon NPC stories... Durant and Excadrill especially.

Durant was originally going to have Choice Scarf instead of Quick Claw to help narrow down the options. It was a pain reorganizing my notes and options all over again to lump not only move choices but turn order in mind. My notes were a mess.

Durant and Galvantula are a very luck-based combination so it was ultimately easier to write the different option paths with that in mind since Stardew's event format is verrrrrrrrrrrry linear. All of the options need to merge back into the same event (well... besides the option to refuse his friendship/battle which ends the event in the tunnel). Durant has lowered accuracy while Galvantula has higher critical hit ratios, I could write the battles based on their luck which is great because I wanted to force a loss.

I thought it would be a little too... reductive (it sure would reduce the amount of content >.>) and unrealistic for the player to impress Emmet with a victory on their first battle. Emmet sees this battle as a test on if you can follow his train of thought and be a good match for him because he's a little bit dependent on you for emotional regulation. He kind of expects you as his favorite passenger to have twin telepathy like Ingo since that's his standard operating procedure. You won't. Because you're not Ingo. You're just some weird farmer he got attached to. With the setup of a battle, I wanted this event to develop the farmer and Emmet's relationship to show that they aren't exactly perfect for each other (and Will say things that can be wrongly misinterpreted) but ultimately they will put in the effort to communicate and make things work. They won't have the best communication! But it's there.

While Ingo has a proper library confession, this event doubles as Emmet's "confession" of sorts. Emmet is already pretty openly affectionate by this point and I wanted to make it somewhat ambiguous as to whether or not his attachment to you is romantic or strictly platonic. To him, it doesn't really matter, but he does want you all to himself. He's not fond of sharing!

But... While Emmet's event may be more platonic in intent, you can still reject him. It's a lot harsher than Ingo's because refusing to even let him try to be a better friend for you is pretty harsh in itself. Ingo's is mostly the choice of whether or not you want to send him back to 6 hearts for more dialogue variety (it's really easy to miss dialogue when you try to max out their hearts as soon as possible! We're making lines for every day, season, and heart level.) Rejecting Emmet sends you back to 2 hearts and overrides his daily dialogue for the day with him asking if you're still friends, apologizing, and then getting too upset to say anything more.

Anyways!

From the start, I wanted Emmet to be like Nemona; awkward in their attachment, somewhat intimidating in their obsession/competitiveness, and thinks of the player as their savior from loneliness. He wants to be the best friend you have because you're the best friend he has. It's only fair. Best rival for life, favorite passenger, same thing.

The mountain pass events were actually made because Emmet's original schedule included him waiting around near the bushes there like Nemona stalking the player on their gym journey. NPCs actually can't path there so when he did, he was just deleted from the save!

I also stumbled across a bug back when I made the very first introduction event where a question loops unless if you pick a certain option. I kept that with Emmet forcing you to keep battling with him in mind as a slight reference to how Nemona doesn't let you say no to being her "best rival for life". This question also makes SMAPI hate you!

Gotta love Pokémon's false sense of 'Sure you have a choice. Your choice is always YES.'

There's probably a more fitting flower for Emmet outside of poppies. I just looked up every flower in Stardew (some of them aren't real...) and their meanings in flower language to come to the conclusion of poppies. The meanings in Emmet's event refer to the white poppy in particular. White. Rest. Oblivion. It fits. Good enough. It was a bit difficult to find more on the flower language of poppies in English (particularly the "Oblivion" part) so I resorted to Japanese sites for more information.

In English, the meaning of "Rest" seems to precede every other meaning. Poppies are used in death memorials. Emmet and the farmer did accidentally develop a shared theme of dying (overwork exhaustion, slimes, the mines, etc... Emmet can't get a break. I'm sorry.) but I wasn't sure if Kade was okay with the theme of death being emphasized. With that in mind, I was stunned when I that saw that her first battle map draft included a graveyard. The implication that Emmet picked flowers from a memorial site...

In my mind - the area is an old train stop in between the desert area and the forest/mountains that lead into Pelican Town. Also figured there would be an abandon farm - considering how Pelican Town is struggling it makes sense that potentially other places are not in best of shape either.

The graveyard is possibly dead relatives of whatever family or farmer made their life near the rails. Of course a lot of time has passed... So much so that nature has taken back what was theirs in the first place.

I always make up stories when having a location in mind and this area parallels with the tunnel Ingo takes you through to stargaze around 10 hearts. That area being an abandon coal mining operation.... Coal, Wood, etc. was used to powered steam trains so makes sense for there to be a source for it. I'm not the best when it comes to filling up Tiled Maps with decor - but I at least put down enough for Thylak to come in and make it more fitting for Stardew

The battlefield underwent quite a few revisions, one was having the battle area be more centered, and changing the old warehouse/worker area to be more like a train repair station with a water stop. I wanted it to feel like a place where Emmet goes to keep himself busy when he's told to take a break from working on the station.

Here's the final map! The battle area had to be shrunken down to fit in an event. More grass was added because I kept losing track of Joltik in the dirt. There's more flowers for Emmet to observe the quality of and pick tge best ones as gifts that he's too nervous to give the farmer until they wilt and dry. Poppies by the gravestones, of course!

I also did attempt to make a proper scrapbook sprite for when I eventually have Emmet give you his gift, but I never got around to implementing it properly since... I'm not familliar with adding custom items and its implementation changes in the 1.6 update.

Despite having access to the modding alpha, I've been procrastinating on migrating to 1.6 since HD Portraits isn't supported yet (I know... 1.6 releases in 3 weeks...).

WOO 1.6 WE ARE NO WHERE NEAR READY FOR ALL THE STUFF THAT POSSIBLY GOING TO BREAK. LOL.

Until next time! Thank you for reading!

[samaraannhan20]

Harry Styles Imagine: College AU!: The Final Show

A/N: Hey guys! this is my first time writing smut, so please be gentle with me. I’ve been working on this fic for a week now, and I’m excited to finally put it out in the world.

A/N 2: I guess when I copied and pasted the text from google docs my links for the outfits didn’t transfer, so I just went through and added them in, they should all be there now!

Warnings: 18+!!!, unprotected p in v (Wrap it up guys!), oral(fem! recieving), fem!reader, Collegestudent!reader, mentions of anxiety and depression

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“One more show,” I quietly say, both to myself and Harry, as we stand in the bathroom after showering, getting ready to leave for the stadium. “One more show,” he echoes, both of us just staring into the mirror. “How are you feeling?” I ask him “Nervous,” is the first word out of his mouth, and he pauses for a second before continuing. “Happy, sad, excited. A little bit of everything. It’s been three years, and it’s crazy that it’s coming to an end. Love on Tour is ending.” “I feel all of those things too,” I admit quietly. “Not to the same level you do, but I feel them all. Life without Love on Tour is going to be weird. I mean, without this tour we wouldn’t be here. Together. We probably wouldn’t have even met. If it wasn’t for that concert that I managed to get pit tickets for, you never would have noticed me or met me,” I say, chuckling a little. “You know,” I say, beginning to laugh a little harder, “we really have a typical fanfiction romance story.” “Do we now?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Yes. I mean, I read a lot of fanfiction when I was growing up. I was a fangirl. And how we met and our love story really is typical of fanfiction.” 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ November 19th, 2021 I walked into the Forum with my best friend at my side, both dressed-up and matching from head to toe, with feather boas around our necks. “I can’t believe we actually got pit tickets,” I say as we walk in, only a couple of other people being let in before us. “I know. I really thought that was a pipe dream,” Haylee responds, and I nod in agreement. We find our spot at the front of the pit, and plant ourselves there, not allowing ourselves to be pushed or shoved away from the spot. We spend the entire concert jumping up and down, and at random intervals I hold the poster I had made, that says “I skipped music theory to be here,” because I had left school early to drive out here today. One of the times I hold the sign up happens to be a time that Harry is standing in front of us, and he looks down and reads my poster, before smiling and shaking a finger at me. I watch as he mouths ‘shameful’ and then dances away. “Did you see that?” I shout as I turn to Haylee, and she looks to be in as much shock as I am, and just nods her head vigorously. We both turn back towards the stage, and just enjoy the rest of the concert as though nothing had happened. At the end of the concert, one of the security guards comes towards us, and I begin to get concerned that we did something wrong. “Hello ladies,” he says as he stands in front of us. “Um, hi,” I say quietly as I feel the panic attack begin to set in. “Are we in trouble?” Haylee asks, speaking up because she knew I wouldn’t. She’s the braver of the two of us. “No no no,” the guard says, shaking his head, and then continues. “Quite the opposite actually. Harry saw your sign,” he says, nodding his head towards me. “And he watched as the two of you enjoyed the concert, and he wanted me to come over and give you these passes, and invite you backstage,” he says, and hands us two VIP passes. “Wait what?” I say, vaguely sounding like Anna from Frozen. “Harry would like to meet you,” he says again, and then moves the barrier to let us through, and lets us follow him backstage. “What just happened,” I whisper to Haylee, grabbing her hand as we follow the security guard. “I have no idea,” she responds, and we walk in silence backstage. When we get back to the common area, Harry is standing there talking to some of his bandmates. I see him when he notices me, and he says something to the people he was talking to, and then he walks over to me and Haylee. “‘Ello ladies,” he says as he stops in front of us. “I’m Harry,” he says, and holds out his hand. “Hi,” I say softly. “I’m Y/N.” “And I’m Haylee,” Haylee says from next to me. “Nice to meet you both. Would you like to meet everyone else?” he asks, and we both nod our heads, and make the rounds to all the others as he introduces us to everyone. The more time we spent talking to other people, the more comfortable I got, and I could feel my body loosening and my body language becoming more welcoming.  Haylee separates from me and Harry, going over to talk to some of the band members, and Harry gently touches my elbow to get my attention, and then nods over to the side, motioning for me to follow him. I do, and before I know it we’re standing in our own little corner talking to each other. “Did you really skip music theory to be here?” he asks, and I blush and tuck a spare hair behind my ear before looking up at him. “Yeah. We wanted to be at the front of the pit, so we left super early this morning and sat in line all day.” “I never knew I had such devoted fans,” he says with a small laugh, and I laugh right along with him. “Yeah right,” I say in response. “There were others who were out there before we were, and we thought we were super early.” “Wow. Well, I hope you didn’t miss anything important in any of your classes today,” he says, and I laugh. “The classes I didn’t miss anything important, but I did miss rehearsals today, so that might be a little hard to catch up on,” I say, smiling as I look at him, and then I frown when I see a small frown cross his face. “Well I hope it’s not that hard to catch up. What kind of rehearsal?” he asks, and then we spend the next hour standing alone and talking about different things, not noticing what is going on around us. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “I’m glad you skipped class that day,” he says, placing a kiss on my neck, and snapping me back to reality and out of memory lane. “Me too,” I whisper, and then turn in his arms so that I’m facing him. “Last show.” “Last show,” he repeats, and then leans in to kiss me. When he pulls away he has a cheeky smile on his face. “And then two weeks in Italy before heading back to the States to make sure you’re back in time for classes,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner. “You’re cheeky,” I say before leaning in and kissing him again. “I can’t believe you’re moving to America for a year just for me.” “It’s true love baby love,” he says, leaning in and pressing his forehead against mine. “True love,” I whisper, and then peck his lips one more time before pulling away. “C’mon. I need to gather my outfit for the show before we leave.” “No you don’t,” he says, and I stop in the bathroom doorway and turn back to him. “Yes I do. I’m not going to the final show in this,” I say, and motion to my bike shorts and oversized Pleasing sweatshirt that I had stolen from him. “I know that. I had Lambert pull together something for you. I wanted us to match for the last show,” he says, and I run the short distance to him, jumping on him. He catches me easily, and laughs as I start to kiss all over his face and neck. “No love bites,” he says with a laugh as I focus on one specific spot. “I still have one more show.” “Did you really have Lambert pull something together for me H?” I ask as I pull away. “Of course I did. This night is just as much for you as it is for me.”  I shake my head as he puts my feet back on the floor. “No it’s not. I don’t perform or do anything. You do it all.” “Maybe so, but there wouldn’t be a Harry’s House yet without you. Over half of those songs were written and produced after you came into my life. It’s amazing we were able to get the album out when we did,” he says, and pulls me in for a kiss. “I love you. I wouldn’t have made it through this tour without you. This night is just as much yours as it is mine.” I kiss him again, before turning to leave the room. “I love you. We really do need to go though,” I say looking over my shoulder at him. He laughs and follows me out of the bathroom. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “Okay Lambert,” I say as I stand in Harry’s dressing room. He’s been kicked out for the time being so that my outfit is a surprise for him. “Get me in this outfit. Also it better be comfortable because the concert is over 2 hours tonight,” I say smiling at him. Harry had already changed, but not let me see him. I had been led into the dressing room with a blindfold on, giving Harry the chance to kiss me before he left so that my outfit was a surprise for him. “You got it girlie,” he says with a laugh, and then grabs the garment bag off the rack behind him. “Prepare to be amazed. Also, keep in mind you don’t know what Harry’s outfit looks like yet, so this might not make sense but it will.” After he says that he unzips the bag and drops it on the ground, holding out the outfit for you.   “Lambert…” I say trailing off, shocked at how beautiful this outfit is. “I know. It's beautiful. And just wait until you see Harry’s.  You guys will look amazing together,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “And, Harry told me you would refuse to wear heels, so, even though I picked out a pair of heels for you, he got these for you,” he says as he bends down and grabs a box of shoes from under the clothing rack and opens them. “MY OWN PAIR OF SATELLITE STOMPERS!” I yell, super excited, jumping up and down.   “Yep. Everyone got a pair for this last show, but Harry had something special embroidered on yours,” he says as he holds them out for me. I grab them and inspect them, fawning over the Love On Tour logo on one side, and then I tear up as I read the embroidered message. “My Satellite,” I whisper as I read the message. I hear Lambert sniffle and look up to see him tearing up. “Why are you crying?” I ask him through my own tears. “Because I am one of the people who got to watch the two of you fall in love. I got to watch him text you everyday, starting from the first meeting, through random concerts you were flown out for, the trips he would make just to see you when you both felt it was too early in your relationship for you to join him on your yet,  until you joined us this summer because you both agreed it was past time. I’ve watched you watch his concerts and I see the love you have in your eyes for him. The two of you were meant to come together,” he says, and I walk to him and give him a big hug. “Thank you Lamby,” I say, and then pull away and wipe my tears off. “Okay, I’m going to go change. You go get H and tell him he can come and wait on the couch.” I turn and head into the bathroom that’s in the dressing room, and quickly change. I smooth out my hair and wipe the small run of mascara off, before opening the door and stepping out. When I step out Harry is sitting on the couch, and he stands up and walks over to me. “Wow, Darling you look amazing. Lambert did a good job,” he says, and as he says that I take in what he’s wearing. “Lambert did an amazing job of making us match,” I say as I walk closer to Harry and press my lips to his own. “Thank you for the shoes. And the extra special message I whisper, looking up at him through my eyelashes. “They’re going to become my new comfort shoes. I’ll wear them everyday,” I say, and he kisses me. When he pulls away he smiles and says “Did you notice I got yours as platforms?” “Yes I did. And I greatly appreciate it. You know I’m crazy about platforms because they make me taller,” I say with a huge smile, and he leans in and kisses me again. We have some time to spare so we go and sit on the couch together. “How are you feeling?” I ask as I curl into his side after he takes his vest off and sets it aside. “Nervous. Sad. I’m ready for it to be over, but I’m also sad it’s ending. But excited because we’re staying here in Italy for a few weeks and we get to spend unbothered time together,” he says, and I can tell from the sound of his voice that he’s really feeling all of these emotions. “I’m really nervous to play that song for them at the end.” “All these emotions are valid. But I know that no matter what your fans are thankful for the time they got from you. You gave them three years of your life. A new album in the middle of that. They love seeing you, but they know you need a break to stay healthy. And they’ll be here waiting when you come back. No matter how long it is,” I tell him, rubbing his back as I say it. “What if they forget about me?” he says very quietly, and I gently grab his face in my hands. “Harry Edward Styles. Never in a million years will those fans ever forget about you. You saved so many of them. When I was just a fan, you saved me. And you saved me again when you brought me backstage that night and gave me your number before I left. Those people love you. I love you. Your mum loves you. Everyone who works with you loves you. No one will ever forget you,”  I tell him, and as I finish he pulls me into him and crashes his lips onto mine. When we pull away we’re both breathless, and we both need a minute to calm down. I stand and cross to the bathroom to fix my lipstick and grab a wipe to get the lipstick off of H. As I sit down and start to wipe his lips off, there’s a knock on the door and Jeff comes in, followed by Glenne and Anne. “Oh. Sorry,” Jeff says with a laugh as he sees me wiping Harry’s face, and Harry and I both laugh in return. “No worries,” Harry says when I move the wipe away from his mouth. “A minute earlier there might have been worries, but you’re just in time,” he continues, and I quickly get up to throw away the makeup wipe and try to hide my blushing face. “Harry, don’t embarrass Y/N,” Anne says with a smile on her face, and I mouth thank you to her from where I stand. “It’s not as if we all didn’t already know what was going on in here before we walked in,” Jeff says, and I laugh when Glenne gently smacks him on the chest. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop now,” he says with a laugh, and everyone sort of chuckles in response. I cross back over to Harry and he wraps his arm around my shoulder and places a kiss on my forehead. “Sorry love. Are you okay?” he whispers to me when he pulls away, and I just give a small smile and nod my head, before laying my head on his shoulder. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “My family are here tonight, my friends are here tonight. My girlfriend is here tonight. Thank you for my family,” Harry says, continuing his final speech, and I watch as he starts to tear up, before pausing to collect himself.  “I was doing so well!” he exclaims, trying to make the situation less serious. “Thank you for the support. Thank you for loving me the way that you have. My friends are here tonight. Thank you for having my back, always. I love you all so much. My girlfriend is here tonight. I wouldn’t be here tonight, finishing the tour on this date if it wasn’t for her,” he says, and pauses as he searches the area his mother is standing in looking specifically for me. When he finds me he zeroes in, his gaze falling solely on me. “I love you,” he says, with tears in his eyes. “I have a lot of things to feel incredibly lucky for in life but I feel the luckiest with my friends’ support. It allows me to do this. I am so full right now. I’ve never been happier in my entire life,” he says, pulling the microphone away from his mouth and mouthing “I love you” to me one more time, before turning to the band and starting to talk to him. I walk to Anne and stand right beside her as he continues his speech. We stand there holding each other as he talks to the audience. “Thank you,” she says to me, voice barely to where I can hear her, and I turn my head to look at her with a questioning look on my face. “For what?” I ask, and she just smiles and shakes her head. “You don’t see it, but everyone else does. You’ve brought him back to life.  Without you this tour would have ended a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, he loves his job, but he probably would have ended this specific tour the first time around, found the inspiration to finish and then  release Harry’s House, and then organized a new tour. You gave him the ability to write while on tour, because you inspired him while he was on tour,” she says to me, and I tear up, and kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you Anne. But none of it would have happened without your support,” I say to her, and she tugs me to her and gives me a tight hug. When we pull away and turn back to Harry I can tell that he is starting to finish up his speech. “I see it- the love- in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour, it doesn't end when this tour ends. Put some love into the world, it really needs it right now. I love you and I’ll miss you. You not only changed my life, you have made me the happiest. I’m so thrilled, I’m so happy. There’s lots of emotions tonight,it’s been a long time and I just wanna thank you very seriously for what this has been to me. You’ve changed my life,” he says, and then pauses for a second, and I watch as his eyes circle around the stadium, as he turns to the band one last time, and then turns back to the audience. “None of you are alone. Look around, look at how many people there are here. We’re all the same. I love you. Thank you so, so much.” As he finishes his speech, I tear up, and look around at all the people in the stadium and all those surrounding me. They may have changed his life. I may have changed his life.  But he’s changed mine as well. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ As soon as I get backstage I go on the hunt for two things. One being water, and the other being Harry. As I get to the refreshments table I grab a water bottle and begin scouring the area with my eyes, looking for Harry. I see him just as I take a sip of water, and choke a little when I see that he has ditched the vest, never quite prepared for the image of him shirtless, even after two years together. I immediately begin walking over to him. He’s surrounded by the band, but when he sees me his smile gets bigger, and they all immediately turn to see what it is he’s looking at, and then cheer when they see it’s me. He pulls me in for a deep kiss as soon as I reach him, and for a minute the world is lost to us. I don’t register the hoops and hollers that are happening behind or around us, all I notice is him. When he pulls back he raises his hands up and starts jumping in the air, and everyone around him follows suit. As I jump up and down with him I can see Anne standing a few feet away, and I jump/hop my way over to her and pull her into the group. When Harry sees her he pulls her in for a hug, and then reaches out to pull me in too. The three of us stand there hugging and just lost in our own world. After we separate from our hug, someone starts playing music and Harry and I stand and just dance around, partying with everyone around. Eventually Harry pulls away and gets everyone’s attention. “You all did so amazing during this tour, and I am so thankful for each and everyone of you. But it’s late, and we’re all tired. So let’s go to our hotel rooms or wherever we're staying. I will see all of you at dinner at my house tomorrow night for our final family dinner!” he exclaims, and everyone cheers one last time. Before I know it the entire band and crew and anyone else who was back here partying with us has corralled everyone into one big group hug. Some people are crying, others are laughing. The people at the back are the first to break free, and as soon as we are finally released from the hug, Harry and I head towards his dressing room to gather our things and go home. “What a night,” I say as the door closes behind Harry and we’re alone for the first time in hours. I start to gather some belongings that we had strewn across the dressing room, and as I start to throw items in my tote bag, I hear a sniffle come from the door. “Harry?” I say as I drop what I had been holding and begin to walk towards him. He hasn’t moved, and is still facing the door, so when I step up to him I place my hand on his arm and turn him toward me. “Honey what’s wrong?” I ask once he’s facing me and I see the tears that are falling down his face. “It’s over,” he whispers, and I let a small “oh” escape my mouth, before pulling him into me. He buries his head in my neck, and I feel the tears start to fall off his face and onto my skin. I stand there holding him for a while, but after a few minutes the tears slow and he pulls himself away from me. “I’m okay. I just didn’t want to cry in front of all of them.” “H, it’s okay to be sad that the tour is over. It’s been your life for three years now. And everyone else is sad as well.  I’m sad, and I haven’t even been here since the beginning,” I tell him, and gently lead him over to the couch. “You were only a few months late,” he mumbles, a small smile coming across his face. “Right, but either way it wasn’t the beginning. You’ve been doing this amazing thing for three years now. It’s okay, and it’s time for you to take a break. In all reality, you don’t have to be onstage to be doing amazing things. Your music does it for you,” I tell him, and I watch him close his eyes and nod in agreement and understanding. “Thank you,” he whispers, and before I can ask why he continues. “Don’t ask why, I can feel the look on your face. Thank you for being here. For being with me. Or always being there to talk me down.  Just being there. Even when you weren’t physically here you were just a call away. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this world,” he explains, and then leans forward and kisses me. “I love you,” I say when he pulls away, and he just leans back in and kisses me again. Our bodies are so in tune with each other that with each push and pull or move of our bodies or tongues it is a seamless connection. When we pull away we lean our foreheads together as we catch our breath. Harry leans in and attaches his lips to my neck, and I laugh a little as he moves his lips further down, getting closer to my chest with each move. “Harry, we can be home in twenty minutes and continue this if you’ll let me finish gathering up our stuff,” I say, laughing, and gently pushing him away. He places one last kiss on my collar bone and pulls back. “Okay, let’s go,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out for me, helping me stand so I can gather the rest of our belongings. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “Harry we have to get up to meet with the caterers,” I say as I try to get out of bed, but am quickly pulled back into bed with a vice grip around my waist as Harry holds on. We had both received a text from Anne and Gemma saying that they were going out for the morning, and that thought alone made Harry not want to let me out of the bed, knowing that we were alone in the house for some time. “We have like 3 hours before they will be here,” he mumbles into my shoulder, placing small kisses all over it. “Right but we both need to take a shower,” I say as I continue to try to pull away. “Okay, so 30 minutes to fool around in bed, an hour to shower, 30 minutes to fool around in the shower, and we’ll still have an hour left to get dressed,” he says, flipping me over so that I’m laying on my back and starting to move his body down mine, lips trailing over my body as they move down. “I don’t have the heart to stop you,”  I tell him, getting a little breathless as he gets closer to my core, and I feel his small breaths of laughter on my lower stomach. He continues down my body, and spreads my legs open, slipping between him. I shiver as he kisses the insides of my thighs, before he moves to where I really want him. He starts flick his tongue on and around my clit as he inserts a finger into me and starts to move it in and out, making a ‘come here’ motion when he is inside of me, hitting the perfect spot. I thread my fingers through his hair as he starts sucking on my clit, and slips two more  fingers inside. He looks up at me through his eyelashes as he brings me closer and closer to the edge, and I see the smirk on his lips as he suddenly pulls away. He brings his body up over mine and brings his lips to mine as he pushes into me. A moan escapes both of our mouths as he begins to move in and out of me. “How are you doing baby?” he asks when he pulls away from my lips. “Amazing,” I moan out, and scratch my nails down his back. “Harder Harry,” I moan out, and he obliges. He starts to move in and out faster, and reaches a hand down to rub my clit. He keeps moving in and out of me at an excruciating pace, but it feels amazing and I do not ask him to stop. He takes his time, making sure that I get to my breaking point first, and then he follows after. After we both take a few moments to catch our breath, he moves his body down mine and starts to eat me out again. He works me up again, rubbing at my clit, and before long he has me hurtling over the edge again. He moves his body back up and lays down next to me, pulling me into him, and we lay there in silence for a few moments, catching our breath. Neither of us makes a move to pull away from the other, instead laying there together. After a few minutes Harry pulls himself away, before holding out his hand. Together we walk to the bathroom and get into the shower. As soon as the water is heated up, Harry is on his knees and eating me out again, cleaning the mix of our cum out of me. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “I tried to tell you that we weren’t going to have enough time,”  I say to Harry as we both scramble to put clothes on after hearing the doorbell ring. “I didn’t hear you complaining,” he says, buttoning his pants and grabbing a shirt. “I’ll get the door,” he says, crossing over to me and pecking me on the lips as I straighten up after slipping underwear on. “I got it. Take your time,” he says and then heads out of the bedroom. I slip my pants and sports bra on, and walk back into our en-suite to apply mascara. I put the mascara on and brush out my hair, and then walk back into our room and grab the shirt I had laid out and slip it on. I stand in front of the mirror for a second and make sure that my outfit looks okay, and will be okay for the last family dinner with the Love on Tour family dinner. I then slip  out of the room, and walk down the hall towards the kitchen. As I near the kitchen I can hear Harry talking to the caterer that he had let in. “I think setting up the buffet right here would be best, and then people will just be standing and eating or sitting and eating wherever they decide. We weren’t planning on pushing any tables together or anything. It’s essentially one big house party before we all go our separate ways for some time,” he tells the caterer, and as I step in and walk next to him the caterer nods in understanding. “I will bring my team back in a few hours with all the food you ‘ave requested,” the caterer responds as Harry leads him to the front door to let him out. “Sounds great, thank you so much Tomas,” Harry says, and then waves as he walks out the door, shutting it after the man has made it out. “See,” he says, turning to me with one of his trademark smiles. “I told you everything would be okay.” 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “Hi, welcome,” I say as Lloyd and some of the other photographers come in the front door. They all stop and give me a small hug as I say “the food is in the kitchen to the right, and everyone is spread all over the room.” I close the door as they all walk in the direction of the kitchen, and turn and look over the house. From this spot I can see Harry and Pauli dancing around. I can see Sarah and Mitch holding the baby and giving him little pinches of safe food every now and then while they talk to Anne. I can see Jeff and Glenne talking to Lorryn and some of the other band members.   I go through the kitchen and grab a little food and then cross the room to sit with Anne. I grab the glass of wine I had left there when I went to answer the door and take a sip. When I place the wine glass down again, Anne wraps her arm around me and I lean into her. “How’re you doing sweet girl?” she says when there’s a lull in the conversation. I watch as Sarah and Mitch take the baby and walk over to where the other band members are, and I can tell it’s their way of giving me and Anne some privacy. I set my plate down in front of me before answering her. “I’m… okay,” I respond. “It’s been the best summer of my life, and it’s not fully over yet, but it feels like it is. Especially since I’ve made so many friends traveling with H, and now I know it will be a long time before I see them again,” I explain, and I can see the understanding across her features. “I can understand that,” she says, and then leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “How long until the two of you head back to the states?” “I thought he told you everything,” I say with a laugh, and she laughs with me. “We’re heading back on the 12th. I’m one of the leaders for orientation and I have a meeting at school on the 18th, but we discussed it and we both wanted some time to settle back into the house. Well,” I say pausing to let out a small laugh. “I guess we wanted time to move in and settle. He sold the LA house, which you knew, and the movers are moving everything into the new house, which is closer to my school and has a private beach attached to it. We had everything, both his and mine, moved into a storage unit. The only clothes I currently have access to are the ones I packed for this trip,” I say with a small laugh. “I’m not positive what we’re doing with the very little furniture and other things that I have, but we have to figure something out.” “Would you like for me to come out around that time to help you guys figure it out?” she asks me, and I immediately wrap both my arms around her. “I would love nothing more. And I know Harry will feel the same. He misses his mom.” She smiles in response and squeezes my sides before pulling away. “I miss my boy. It’s settled then. I’ll look at tickets the moment I get home tomorrow,” she says and I lean over and kiss her on the cheek before reaching out for my wine. I sit silent for a minute, sipping on my wine and thinking. “I feel bad,” I say when I speak up again, and Anne looks at me as though I’ve grown two heads. “Why on earth do you feel bad?” she asks me, reaching out and placing her hand on my arm, gently squeezing. “I’m taking Harry away from you. He’s moving to America for me,” I say, refusing to look in her eyes and instead staring into my wine glass. “Oh my sweet sweet girl,” she says, and gently reaches out and tips my chin up so I’m looking in her eyes. “You are not taking him away from me. He was getting close to moving there full time anyway. He sold the one LA house to find a new one, not to move home. He might not have admitted that, but we both knew it. It is in no way your fault. I would be upset if he was moving there and didn’t have anyone, but he has you. And you have shown me time and time again over the last two years, that you are the person for him,” she tells me and I smile. “Thank you. I’m gonna miss you when I’m back at school and don’t have as much time to see you.” “I always tell Harry that I’m only a phone call away, and that goes for you as well. I love you sweet girl,” she says, and I lean into her again, wrapping my arms tightly around her. “I love you Anne.” When we pull apart we sit there visiting for a while longer as I pick at some of the food I had on my plate and take a few small bites and finish my wine. I don’t notice Harry watching me pick at my food  until he comes over carrying a plate of fruit and a glass of water.  He comes over and gently takes the plate out of my hands, handing me the plate of fruit at the same time, and that  is what brings my attention to him. I look up at him with a questioning look and he just smiles. While I’m looking at him I feel Anne get up, and Harry is quick to take her place on the couch. “Haz, I have a plate of food,” I tell him as he gets comfortable next to me. “But you didn’t want it,” he says simply, and I feel my facial expression morph into one of bewilderment. “How could you possibly have known that?” I ask him, not wanting to admit he was right. I had only grabbed the plate of food because everyone else had one, and I didn’t want to be the only one without food. I typically only eat one meal a day, with some snacks here or there, and I had eaten lunch so I wasn’t that hungry. “Because I know you. You sat here drinking your wine, and took maybe two bites of food. I don’t like that you only eat one meal a day, but I know it has to do with your depression and anxiety, and I know that being one of the hosts of a party is causing you some anxiety,” he explains as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and gently pulls me to lean on him. “However, I also know that you need to eat something. Fruit is a comfort food for you. So I grabbed some of your favorites and brought it over,” he finishes, and I tilt my head and lift it to meet his lips in a kiss. “You’re too good to me,”  I whisper when I pull away, and he just smiles and shakes his head. “No, you’re too good for me,” he says, and then leans down and presses another kiss on my lips. 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ “Thanks for coming,”  I hear Harry say from my spot laid out on the couch,  as the last guests leave. Anne had gone to bed about an hour ago in her room here at the house. Gemma had also gone to the guest room she was staying in, which was right across from their mother’s room. Sarah and Mitch had left hours ago, heading back to the hotel to get the baby into bed at a semi-decent time. I close my eyes as Harry walks back into the room and Moon River, by Audrey Hepburn, comes over the speaker in the room. I quietly hum along with it until I feel a shadow fall over my head. “Come dance with me,” he says, gently playing with the necklace that is resting on my collar bones, one that he had given me a couple of months after our one year anniversary. I hum in agreement before allowing him to take my hand and pull me up. As soon as I’m standing he pulls me to him and we sway back and forth, slowly moving around the room. Another slow song comes on as we continue dancing, lost in our own little world. After a while I pull back and look at him. “Ready to rest now?” I quietly say, not meaning for the night, but meaning for a greater amount of time. He gives me a small smile and nods yes. We stop dancing and make our way over to the couch, and he sits down first, laying down on the couch. He spreads his legs so that I can slip my body between them, and I lay down with my head on his chest. He rubs his hands up and down my back as we sit there in silence, the only noise being the music that is playing through the speakers. “What are we going to do tomorrow?” he quietly asks after a few minutes. “Rent that boat you mentioned. Clean up from this party and get the house ready for the guests that are coming next week.  Say goodbye to your mom for now,” I say, and then pause. “It doesn’t really matter what we do. What matters is that you get some well deserved and needed rest,” I say, and then place a gentle kiss on his chest. “What is this rest thing you speak of?” he says, and without looking at him I can hear the smile in his voice, and feel the chuckle rumble through his chest. “It’s something you deserve and need to enjoy,” I say, and then I stand up, holding my hand out for him. “Here, let me show you.”

[maximwtf]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT. i saw you wanted to write an izzy x reader that had to do with swordfighting—what if the reader is one of olu and/or jim’s friends whom they stumbled upon again randomly either at sea or on land and they bring the reader back to join the crew. izzy’s skeptical at first, i can picture him saying something like “so we’re really just letting anyone on this ship now, are we?” but some time passes and they are getting attacked but the reader shows up and shows out with their AMAZING swordsmanship skills and izzy is blown away but also a little jealous haha. it takes him some time to finally get over his ego and do this, but he ends up asking for some lessons from the reader and so they start doing it a few times a week when everyone is asleep and while they’re dueling and practicing is the only time they really get to talk but they do talk while they’re doing so and they’re learning a lot about each other and then they gradually fall in love?? please feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it by any means, but i feel like you’d write it so well! i love your fics so much🫶

Izzy Hands x Reader

words: 4000

google docs pages: 8,5

Warnings: None, I don’t think. A minor injury, at most? 

opening: You bump into some old friends who offer you a new occupation. The first mate of the ship is sceptical of you, but his mind changes when he witnesses a sword fight you’re having. Izzy builds up the courage to ask for tutoring lessons, and there start the long hours of teaching him your knowledge. 

AN// Reader can be any gender, though I guess I’ve forgotten to mention in the previous fanfics that the pirate terminology is rather male based, since women weren’t allowed on ships. But feel free to ignore that as gender affirming and take it as just generic terms. Thank you so much for this request, I was dying to write something related to swords and Izzy !! I had a lot of fun with this, and I hope yall will enjoy it as well^^ ! (This became a little longer than intended, apologies for that :”D)

 “A victory and the reward”

A new ship had appeared near the shore of the Republic of Pirates, and those usually intrigued you. You hadn’t been on a vessel yourself for years now, but each time you saw a new ship appear it did bring back memories, so you would go and watch them. After your sailing days, you’d told yourself that a life at sea wasn’t for you. And you started believing that after surviving the latest sinking of a ship you’d been on. But that might have been a lie, knowing you had regretted the decision almost every day after. 

Now, this new ship laid upon your eyes. In no time at all a jolly boat started making distance from the main vessel, making its way towards the shore. You made sure to stay hidden enough that your staring wasn’t obvious. You could never know who you’d come across with foreign ships. 

The men left the boat, spreading across the shore and towards the more urban area of the Republic. Though, two of them stayed behind, and at least to you it was rather clear they’d done it on purpose. Being in your thoughts, you hadn’t even realised that one of them had noticed you, surreptitiously pointing your presence out to their friend. You weren’t armed but they most certainly were, so running away straight after being pointed out wasn’t going to end well for you.

They approached you, but the closer they came the more familiar their faces became. One of them being more familiar to you than the other, but you’d seen them both before. The pair stopped at a safe distance, but by the way they looked they must have been feeling the same way as you. Confused. “Jim? Olu…?” You asked carefully, voice a little lost as you stared at the pair. You’d met Jim multiple years ago, when they were only at the beginning of their ‘quest’. You’d spent time with them for quite a while, up until you’d found a new crew and left for the sea, as it called you. Olu you had only met more briefly through Spanish Jackie. But both of them you were familiar with. 

“How are you alive?” Jim asked straight away, clearly a little curious through the initial shock. You stared at them blankly for a moment. Oh, yeah. The sunken ship. “You know, what could kill the evil?” You shrugged in almost an animated way, adding a chuckle at the end. Both of them seemingly had heard of what had gone down on the last ship you’d been on, Olu clearly interested as well. “Come on, you have to tell us!” Jim added, walking closer in a friendly manner. “Those days are behind me, I’m only a mere landlubber nowadays.” You chuckled, the sting of saying that still hitting deep. “You?” Olu asked, tone of voice making it clear he didn’t want to believe it. And you wouldn’t have either, only if you weren’t saying it yourself. “Mm, you know how it goes. I retired, as they say.” You replied, an attempt to lighten the mood on your part. “Mm, and I don’t believe that?” He insisted, making you give them both an intense stare before your shoulders slumped. “I haven’t dared to go back since the last sinking. Though, I regret leaving that life behind”, You sighed with a defeated shrug, expression soon turning to a more confused one due to what you heard next.

Jim had suggested for you to join the Revenge’s crew, who had already come together with Blackbeard’s crew. The old sailor in you activated almost immediately, shaking their hand in agreement. Before hopping on the boat you’d be calling home, you met their captain, Stede. He wasn’t the typical captain you’d sail with, but seeing as he’d accepted you rather quickly, you did the same for him. Accepted him as your captain. But after getting on the ship itself, you would meet someone who wouldn’t accept you so warmly. Like one of the old sea dogs you’d sailed with years before. A relic, you thought sometimes when he got on your nerves enough.

Almost the moment you stepped a foot on deck, you could feel the first mate’s eyes on your back, like you were the target for something. And after greeting the crew briefly, he made his presence known. He pulled the black bearded man aside, and even through his attempt at whispering you could hear what he said, “so we’re really just letting anyone in nowadays?” Or perhaps he’d done it on purpose so you would hear it too. 

You couldn’t hear what the other captain replied to his first mate, but you continued to stare at them both with a confused, slightly displeased look. In your humble opinion, you’d been on the sea for long enough to have gained a good set of skills. And you were damn motivated to prove to him that you weren’t going to be no swab. A hand placed on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts. “Ignore him, he’s like that always.” Jim said and with that you started settling in. 

Days on the ship passed, and you got accustomed to their way of doing things and by the first months you’d gotten to know the rest of the crew, not just Jim and Olu. Though, as much as you workedand as skilled as you were, Izzy’s mind didn’t seem to budge. It almost felt like he would scowl at you as soon as you weren’t looking. You’d tried talking to him, but each time you tried the reply would be either ‘fuck off’ because he was ‘busy’ or he would come up with tasks for you to do. You could tell he’d been sailing for a long time, and you could tell he was skilled too. But the way he was doing everything in his power to keep you away was odd. Though, you tried to tell yourself that he was softening up to you, thinking he was a little different than at the start.

Swipe by swipe the deck got cleaner, and all the while the action you kept telling yourself you were only doing it because Izzy had told you to. Thankfully that day the wind wasn’t all that cool, though blowing nicely. You straightened your back to stretch, a low groan escaping you at the movement. From the new position you could see an incoming ship. From the looks of it, it was another pirate ship. It didn’t carry the British flag, so it couldn’t have been their navy. Not that they would usually attack pirate ships on sight either way. You didn’t take more time to ponder before running to the captain’s quarters to inform them about the possible incoming attack. 

And you’d been correct, it was another pirate ship with a crew willing to fight for some plunder. All the men on the Revenge had been called on deck, each one of them carrying a weapon of their choice. Yours was a sword, the one that’d been your trusty companion for as long as you could remember. You held it firmly, but with ease due to the knowledge in this type of combat. 

The deck was busy, like an ant nest. You had a man charging at you with a sword in hand, parrying his attack without much emotion. Their initial attack gave you a chance to cutover, quickly fixing your footwork after. The man was down with a nasty wound on his neck, and that is where you left him. Another of the crew was coming towards, you doing your best to keep a good distance to him. He disengaged, giving you a chance to circle perry the attack and allow you to have more space to continue, which you used to lunge and strike the man to his chest. With a swift motion you pulled the sword back, giving it a quick flourish for showmanship even if no one was looking. Or so you thought.

Izzy had fought himself to a position where he had time to watch you fight off the two men. His brows furrowed while following your footwork and the advanced attacks he rarely saw being used. Some of them he couldn’t even name, having not seen them done before. A sting of jealousy hit him through the amazement, his pride in his own skills being shaken. He hadn’t seen you in action before, having no idea of your past or where you’d learned such a set of skills. The first mate’s grip on his sword tightened, his gaze leaving you after the flourish, continuing his own fight. 

After the victorious fight the Revenge kept sailing, days passing the same as before. You were spending the evening with some of the crew, laughter coming from around the table as stories were told along with casual chatter. As the night went on, most of the people around the table started leaving, soon you being the only one left. You drank the last drops of rum from the glass in front of you and pushed the chair back with your legs as you stood up. “Aye.” Came from the stairs as a familiar figure descended from the main deck. Your gaze shot up to him, brows furrowing. “Yes?” Your voice came out a little whiny due to the confusion. The first mate got a little closer, out of the shadows and into the faint light of the few lanterns still lit. “I have something to ask from you.” Slight hesitation in his voice, you noted. You didn’t say anything after, only giving him a nod as a sign to continue. This was already odd enough as it was, Izzy asking for something from you? “Well you know, I saw you fight in the attack earlier.” He started, leaning his hand on the table next to you. “And I think some parts of your tactics were…impressive.” The first mate said with a slight scowl appearing on his face for a moment. A smirk had made its way on yours, amused by the fact that he had finally seen you in action and had to admit his admiration in order to ask of whatever he had to ask. “And I was wondering if you could teach me a few of the attacks you used.” He asked with a slightly pained sigh at the end. The smirk on your face only grew, having to bite it back by chewing on your inner lip. 

The man who’d been ‘tormenting’ you from the day you’d joined was asking for you to teach him a few of your attacks, which you’d learned from the years of piracy and studying the ‘art’ of it. You raised your gaze a little, proud of this achievement on the first mate. Hell, you’d barely been able to talk to the man without him shooing you away like some cabin boy. So, your first response would have been to be a little cocky about this, but you quickly decided against it. “I suppose I could teach you a thing or two, yeah.” You ended up saying, tone loose and relaxed. “You free tomorrow morning?” You asked in return, watching his expression tighten like he was disgusted with the suggestion. “Tomorrow night, when I have the lookout shift.” He said, not giving you more reason for the timing he’d chosen. You furrowed your brows with a slight smirk. Was he trying to arrange the meeting in a way no one would see him training with you? Even the thought made you almost laugh, but you kept it to yourself. “Sure.” You nodded, and without any other words the man was gone. 

You watched him leave, the smirk you’d been holding back finally freely expressed. You couldn’t believe the interaction you’d just had with him. You’d thought the man was slightly amusing from the start, by the way he was commanding the crew around when they clearly couldn’t care less, yet he continued. But seeing him come to ask you for lessons with his tail between his legs was more than amusing. But maybe you’d finally proven yourself to him, and would start getting along with the man from now on. 

The next day passed, the evening dragging the night along. You’d waited until most of the crew was asleep, expecting Izzy to want complete peace. You made your way to the deck just below the main, finding Izzy there along with a few lit candles. 

“Evening.” You greeted him, knowing it was well into the night by this point. “You know, we could have met earlier.” You added, gaining a slight eye roll from the man. “Get to the point, or this lesson will be cut short.” The first mate said, seemingly his defences still up. You put your hands up in defence, pouting slightly. “Alright.” 

You didn’t expect him to have read anything related to fencing or sword fighting, so there was most likely no point in trying to explain any theory to him. The man must have learned his set of skills by just having to fight, learning from errors he’d made along the way. So you thought you’d show him an attack and if he didn’t know it yet, you’d teach it to him. 

Either way, the man was looking at you with an expression that read ‘what now?’ all over it. “How about you show me what you know in action?” You asked, taking your sword out and going into position in front of him. He followed the action, you taking note of the good grip he had of his sword. He didn’t take more time to prepare, using a false thrust to trick you into parrying from the wrong angle before lunging to strike. Or what would have been a good false thrust, if you hadn’t seen it coming. You used a circular perry to deflect it, countering it with a quick flick to his shoulder, making sure not to cause any actual damage. You’d known you couldn’t possibly kick the sword out of his hands due to his strong hold, but the flick had worked nicely enough to get his blade out of your way. 

You backed down after, flourishing the sword in your hand before placing the tip of it against the floor and slightly leaning on it. From the looks of it, Izzy had his brows furrowed but not out of confusion. He had seen the attack performed before, yet it was only now that he’d seen it at such close range, getting a better hang of how it was done. “That good for the first lesson?” You asked, an excited smirk on your face. This would have been a good first step. He already had a good grip of his sword, footwork being nearly perfect, yet his timing and distance needed some training to make the flick work. “Suppose so, yeah.” Izzy replied, voice still a little unfriendly, like he didn’t want to admit to the fact that he was actually taking lessons from you .

That night was a long one, possibly the longest one of the meetings you would continue to have from there. But the later it got, the more Izzy seemed like his guard wasn’t up as much. You explained and showed him a good distance from where to make the attack and the spots on the body where it's the most effective if landed correctly. By the end he was performing it nicely, noting that he seemed to be a rather quick learner. You told him this before going your separate ways, oddly enough, looking forward to the next lesson with him. 

You didn’t talk to him during the day, finding that he was still acting the same when other people were around. But lesson by lesson he started easing out to you, talking to you like a friend after a few meetings. You didn’t mind, not at all. In fact you’d grown a little fond of him over the lessons, finding the two of you often talking while teaching him an attack he didn’t know yet. You’d learned more about him during those nightly lessons than you thought most of the crew knew. 

And as these lessons went on, you found yourself more than keen on the first mate. And at some point you started fearing that maybe he’d seen through you, and your feelings were affecting the way you were teaching him. But trying to push those thoughts aside, you kept giving him the lessons. 

But by some point, you could have sworn you had started noticing him opening up to you more and on some rare days he’d even come up to you during the day. He’d of course never admit that during the lessons, but you began to wonder if you should tell him of the crush you’d developed. And after building some courage you decided the best time to tell him would be at some point during the next lesson, when he was the most natural with you. 

The weather outside wasn't the best that night. There was a smaller storm happening, but not fully on the ship itself. This caused some of the heavier waves to hit the vessel and sway it from side to side, at times rather roughly. Even your sea legs gave out at times when a heavier wave hit the ship, having to hold on to the nearest wall. 

It was safe to say that this lesson would again be held in the lower deck, below the main. The main deck had more space to practise attacks involving long distance movement, but it was no use going there tonight. At best, one of you would fall overboard. 

You descended from the stairs, finding Izzy already stationed where he usually waited for you. “Took you so long, I almost thought you’d fallen overboard”,the man commented while pressing his food against the nearest wall as the ship swayed yet again, in order to keep balance. You raised your eyebrows for a moment, giving him a light shrug. He was struggling as well. “Whatever you say.” You hummed while taking out your sword, leaning it against the wooden flooring as per usual. He was waiting for you to start the lesson. “I thought we’d have a duel tonight. See if you’re any good.” You chuckled silently, the man giving you a low huff with a ‘fuck off’ somewhere in the mix. Though, it seemed he had agreed to the idea as he was taking out his sword, going into position. You followed after. 

Izzy moved fast, quickly lunging at you which you were able to deflect with a parry, having to take a few steps back as he was moving rather fast. “You’re wasting your energy.” You hummed, taking a tighter grip of your sword. You would try to use a flèche to end the duel, but you needed some space before doing that. He knew the move by now, but you wanted to try if he’d be able to parry or block it. 

After gaining enough distance, you got ready. Izzy shrugged at you, eyes keenly on your form. “Maybe, or maybe I almost just got you.” He replied. You rolled your eyes, not out of annoyance but more out of habit. He was preparing to lunge, or maybe trying to fake it to trick you. Either way, you took a longer jump forward, circling his sword to the side and aiming for the area around his shoulder, a successful flèche. Or would have been, if the ship didn’t sway at the exact same time. 

Due to your lunge just now, you didn’t have a proper stance to hold your ground. This caused you to lunge further than intended, and with the added force of the swaying you crashed onto Izzy. You heard the swords clash onto the floor, you feeling the nearest wall hit your head as you landed on Izzy, bringing him down with you. 

You groaned, slowly opening your eyes again. The spot on your head that had hit the wall ached, but you dragged your torso up by lifting with your arms. “You alright?” Came from under you, making your eyes widen. You couldn’t even think of the pain from the hit, embarrassed for tripping him over as well. “I’m- fine! Because I won, obviously.” You tried to ease your own panic by talking, scrambling off of him and back on your feet. 

You watched the first mate get up after you. “We can continue later. I don’t want to duel you like this, not fighting dirty.” Izzy then said, not wanting to argue over your wellbeing, but eyes still keenly on you as you tried collecting yourself. “Then let’s take a break, I can still continue.” You said, holding onto the table behind you. He didn’t say anything to that, not giving you a sign if he’d agreed to it or not. By the sound of it, he’d kneeled down to pick up the swords. 

He walked up to you, handing your sword back. “You don’t look fine.” He said, eyes looking for signs of damage. “Rude”, you almost chuckled, biting your inner lip to fight it back. “What?” He asked almost immediately after. “You don’t think I’m fine?” You asked, having to bite your inner lip with more force after. This hadn’t been how you imagined this going, but it wasn’t going to get much better. Izzy’s eyes widened at the comment, but catching up to what you were doing rather quickly. “I didn’t say that.” He squinted his eyes slightly. “Then do you?” The first mate looked to the side for a moment thinking about the question. “And you would like to know because?” He asked, voice a little awkward now that the moment truly started settling in. You furrowed your brows, not sure if the tone in his voice was a good or a bad thing. “Because I do think that way of you.” You blurted out, the air becoming tense. His eyes were on you once more, but more cautious this time. “Are you tricking me?” He asked carefully, as if that had been a mandatory question to ask before saying whatever he wanted to say next. The chuckle from earlier came out as an amused huff, trying to lift up the mood. “Of course not. What kind of a tutor would I be if I’d take up lying.” His eyes met yours once more. The jokes weren’t working, he was truly getting a little more emotional than usual. “I do…have love for you.” He said, hand careful as it placed itself on top of yours, on the table. As if he was scared you’d pull away. 

You had to hold back a smile, afraid that would scare him off. “I don’t think you understand how relieved I am to hear that.” You said, saying whatever came to mind, as finding any thought out words were getting difficult to find. “I feel the same.” You added, just to make it all the more clear to him. 

You watched the man carefully move his hand from yours to your forearm, slightly frozen in place, as if he didn’t know what to do next. He looked lost somewhere in his own mind. You swallowed hard, swiftly placing your hand at the nape of his neck, bringing him in for a kiss, to which he responded to. You didn’t pull away, a sly smirk forming on your face. 

You’d tried your best to keep it hidden, but it was no use anymore. You switched positions, pushing him gently against the nearest wall, raising your sword up to his chest as you pulled away from the kiss. “I still won.” You smiled. 

[chvrrycola]

STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - HWANG HYUNJIN

word count: 0.9k

warnings: one swear word :o

currently listening to: like this by stayc

meet the other meetcutes!

when your teacher told your class that your final project of the semester would be done in pairs, you could tell there was not one person who was pleased. with some of your other teachers it would have been fine, since they always let you pick your partners, but you knew you’d have no such luck this time around. 

you walked home from school with your friend, listing off name after name of people you’d had nightmare experiences working with in the past, ending up at the conclusion that the next two weeks of preparation would almost definitely be a nightmare. 

you would be told who you were paired with in class the next day, and you were just crossing your fingers that it wouldn’t be.. well anybody really. the best case scenario was that it was just somebody totally incompetent who left you to get it all done yourself, not bother you with changing the slide colours or editing your writing in real time, lurking in the google doc everytime you were close to finishing something. 

you got to class and wished your friend good luck with their partner, which they returned, before heading over to their seat on the other side of the room. your teacher was late, as usual, but came with the announcement that your partners would not be from your own class, but one of the other classes in your grade.

you sent a puzzled look to your friend, who looked back at you, pleading expression on their face as they willed fate to treat them well. you were given the names of your partners and a topic to base your presentation around, being told to come back to the same classroom at the end of the day so that you could organise when to get your work done. 

you scanned down the list once it got passed round to where you were sat. you were paired with someone called hwang hyunjin, who you had never knowingly met, but thought you might as well ask around about. nobody at any of the neighbouring desks knew much about him, but they said they had seen him around, that he was always hanging out with the same group of guys and that he seemed pretty cool from what they could tell. 

you were already feeling kinda awkward sitting at a random desk after school, waiting for hyunjin to show up. most people were already talking to their partners and checking their timetables to see when they could get to work, but there you were, looking at the clock in the hopes that you wouldn’t have to be here too long. 

the other class’s teacher walked passed you, smiling as she asked who you were supposed to be waiting for. she chuckled when you told her, and gently pointed to the boy sitting alone at the desk next to yours, checking the time on his phone. 

you waited for him to look up, catching him by surprise when he did. you introduced yourself quickly, not wanting him to spend too long thinking you had been staring at him just because, and he promptly did the same, complimenting your shoes once he was done. 

he scooted his chair over so that he could show you the sheet of paper you had seen him  scribbling on while he was waiting. you were both impressed and pleased to see that he had an almost complete plan somewhat frantically mapped out on the single sheet of a4.

‘i wasn’t sure if you were gonna be one of those people who just leaves all the work to their partner,’ he said as your eyes scanned the sheet, awkwardly chuckling and adding, ‘but we definitely don’t have to go with this, i don’t wanna like, take over the whole thing.’

you assured him that you had no problem with his plans, adding a couple of extra ideas as you talked it through with him. you were both fully hunched over the table making your notes, barely managing to avoid hitting your heads together as you focused. it was only when you sat up to stretch your back out that you realised that everybody who had been there to meet their pair had left. 

you nudged hyunjin, wondering if he had realised how much time had passed. he hadn’t, or at least that’s what you assumed from his reaction.

‘shit, i said i’d meet my friends at 4:30, they’re gonna kill me, i’m so sorry.’

he immediately started shoving stuff into his bag, writing a couple more things down before he slid the sheets between his folders. 

‘it was great meeting you though,’ he began, already halfway out the door, ‘we got this, we’re gonna nail it, i’ll see you soon.’

he left so quickly that you only realised that you had absolutely no way of getting in touch with him until he had disappeared around a corner. you went back to the desk and slumped into your chair, hoping it wouldn’t set you back too much. 

to be fair, you had already done most of your work, and basically all that was left was to actually put the slides together. you started arranging your papers and putting them into your bag when a little yellow post-it note fluttered to the floor next to your desk. 

it had to be his number scrawled on the bottom of the note, but the handwriting was so rushed that you couldn’t make out what it said until you held it right up to your face.

we should meet up again sometime, i won’t be able to see your awesome shoes over a google doc ;) (sooner the better pls)

[superbwritersroom]

You enter a room, and it's full of people just like you.

Well, not just like you - not all look or sound like you, and more likely than not, you'll have different opinions and outlooks on things. But the shared passion oozing out of them all, the relatable issues and road blocks being discussed, and the posters on the wall of the men and women from the show you're all obsessed with tells you you're in the right place.

This, is the room full of writer's - just like you.

Some are just beyond the windows that line one side of the room - natural light babes, inside & outside. There's the dark and moody lit space too. A couple at desks, some are on the floor, couches or squishy chairs. Some have turned a corner into what appears to be a fully functioning coffee shop, another a library. Some are smoking, others are staring at the ceiling and crying. Many are laughing and talking together. Quite a few are hosting more than three different kind of beverages at their work stations. Almost all are snacking.

One girl, who's half a bag deep in Salt & Vinegar chips, sees you, and she smiles, before shouting: You're here!

She bounds up to greet you, and begins to tell you all about this magical place you've entered.

Excuse the mess, the pencil and eraser shavings and crumpled up pieces of paper are kind of a hazard of the job, you know?

Hopefully the sound doesn't bother you? Some people have the silent keyboards and some have the really clacky type-writer ones. Maybe invest in some headphones? Or if you like sound, that one over there has been playing the exact same song on repeat for two weeks, we have a bet going for how long she'll last. And that one? Well, they're about to - ah, yup don't worry they're just screaming at the blank Google Doc. It happens.

Well, here's your spot. Right there's a map for the lay of the land, sure you'll get the hang of it quick, but don't hesitate to reach out if you're lost or have questions - just drop something in the Mailbox.

You're a writer! Congrats, kid!

She starts to walk away and then backtracks, pointing a finger as she corrects herself:

not kid. Cause we're 18+ here.

And with a peace sign, she's off. And you're in the writer's room. What will you do first?

Taylor's Challenges

the masterlists for any challenges taylor has hosted herself || (may be stranger things fandom specific)

Community Challenges

the masterlists for any challenges put on by other blogs in the fandom that taylor has participated in/read || (may be stranger things fandom specific)

Writing Challenges 🧡

any writing challenges taylor comes across, whether she's participating or not, are reblogged with the tag:

writing challenges 🧡

General Tags for Resources:

writing prompts 🧡

(you can also find things under specific categories like 'smut writing things' / 'romance writing things' / and so on)

encouragement 🧡

inspiration 🧡

writing advice 🧡

quotes 🧡

memes 🧡 | relatable 🧡

resources 🧡 | non-writing resources 🧡

writing asks 🧡 | blog asks 🧡

stranger things things 🧡

[ramblingoak]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

I'll give you a whole bouquet if you can give me even one even if it's made up line from Latin teacher copia 👀 You may have forgotten about it but I haven't

Funnily enough I HAD forgotten about it...but I had it saved in my google docs as "sexy latin professor Copia" so it was easy enough to find!

Copia x Reader (NSFW, reader is his TA, Copia growls in a sexy way, mention of spanking, 18+ only, not edited don't judge me)

You never expected the semester to end with you bent over Cardinal Copia’s desk and your bare ass sticking into the air.

However…here you were.  Cardinal Copia’s, no Professor Copia’s, handprint still stinging and red on your skin.  He said he preferred being called Professor while at the college to teach his seminar.  It didn’t matter to you either way, you’d call him whatever he wanted as long as he kept touching you.  Even having him looking at you was enough.

And then today he had given his final lecture and of course chose to speak about the sin of lust.  You had barely made it through the class and had been vibrating at your desk the entire time.  He had kept sending dark looks your way and you swore he kept adding a darker and darker growl each time he said lust.  

Then came the wait of the students handing in their final assignments and you trying to keep the stack nice and neat in your shaking hands.  Professor Copia had been standing at the door saying goodbye to everyone, acting pleased when everyone was enthusiastic about how the class went and asking if he’d be back.

“Oh I’m sure there’s a few reasons for me to come back.”  You didn’t need to turn around to know he was staring at you as he said it.  It felt like the strange eyes of his could burn into your soul.  You glanced up at the clock on the wall, taking a few shaky breaths as it slowly clicked over to the last minute of class.  In one minute you wouldn’t be his TA anymore and all the anticipation that had been building between you for weeks could be resolved.

You turned when you heard the door close, the sound echoing through the empty room.  He was slowly stalking towards you like a predator, throwing a quick glance up to the clock at the same time you did.  When it chimed at the hour he met your eyes and smiled while he reached over and took the stack of assignments out of your hands.

He then dropped them to let them scatter across the floor.

“Time for your confession, cara mia.”

[lunewell]

Greedy

(MerMay Story 2024)

In spite of final exams being a nightmare this year, I actually managed to post my MerMay story in the month of May! Woo!!!

This year I've written a short original psychological horror story from the perspective of the horror. I wanted to explore female violence and dehumanisation in particular, and what happens when we let ourselves get possessed by the greed to conquer.

As always, Tumblr is a HellsiteTM, so if you don't want to read this on here you can choose to read it on Google Docs here

Hope you enjoy (:!

CW: Rape, SA, a decent amount of violence. None of them in the sexy way. Dead dove, do not eat.

It’s Ben that spots them first. Today he’s been on lookout in our little fishing boat, the only one sober enough to spot a rock and give me a shout before I swerve Margret II into the same grave as her sister. Henry and Ben and I usually don’t drink more than a can on the job, but today has been a good catch, and a cause for celebration. We had followed a family of porpoises out to a remote spot close to three small isles on Ben’s insistence, and found a group of mackerel so large it could stock the shop for weeks. We would have turned around there and then if Henry hadn’t bought out some fire starter, the nice beer, and the crabs we caught earlier, and pointed out that there was an awfully pretty resting spot and an awfully pretty sunrise to catch on the leftmost isle. 

We were only meant to be there until the sky mirrored the blue of the sea, but one beer turned to two turned to a stock depleted. By the time we even thought about going homewards the sun sat at the top of the world, the village and shop seemingly seas away. Maybe they still are, for all I know; I didn’t have to spend long on the boat to realise the carefree breeze that flowed through me had cost my navigational skills.

Still, I tried to steer. Ben has his kids, Henry has… something, I’m sure, and I have my Clarissa, and more importantly, our young and perky maid. I would not let the waters claim me yet, and I would not do something as foolish as get lost in them. I wasn’t an idiot, and wouldn’t let myself be thought of as one.

Yet every stretch we went felt more and more unfamiliar to me. I didn’t recognise the islands, even as the warmth of the alcohol subsided. The water we were sailing through — previously a clear blue glass that lit the fish below — looked like it had sewage running through it, and the sky, so clear mere islands ago, had turned a foggy grey. Reeds popped up around us, though no land was in sight. I had tried to turn back, but by the time I had realised I was on the wrong path, all I could see around me was the shit-water and reeds.

There is a silence over the whole area, I realise, as I feel more lost than ever. The laughter and bantering have long subsided, replaced by a choking silence only interrupted by Henry’s snoring, and the water is as still as water could be. There are no chirping of birds, no splashes around us; even Margaret II seems to respect the silence, the chugging of her engine muffled in the reeds.

Right as the pressure of the silence has started growing too much for my heart, Ben speaks up. His voice is quiet and meek, barely audible even in the complete stillness: “Stop the boat.”

I oblige in an instant with immense relief. We slow not smoothly but lurch forward instead, as though we’re sailing through molasses. “What-” I start asking at my usual volume, though I don’t get to finish my question before Ben pales and shushes me, blowing my words away to sea. I look out past the reeds: nothing but rocks greet me.

“Listen,” Ben whispers, and stares into the nothingness. 

“What do you think I’ve been doing, jackass?”

“No, no,” Ben says, and I’d be concerned for his well being were it not for the manic smile plastered on his face, “really listen.”

And so I do.

At first I hear nothing. Truly nothing. Not even the waves, or the reeds, or Margaret II, as quiet shut down as she had been running. 

Then I hear it.

At first a single splash, salty drops jumping and returning to the sea. Then one splash turns to two turns to several, and between the drops there’s bubbles of laughter, so subtle I could have confused them for the wind. Voices murmur in the distance — light and airy and soft as dander — but distinctly voices. 

Ben thrusts me a pair of binoculars, and I waste no time pulling them up, my grin nearly as wide as his.

I have only seen a mermaid in person once before. A travelling circus had come to town when I was younger, boasting an impressive collection of the weird and the crippled, with the grandest entertainment and freak of all being a live mermaid originally captured by a lucky whaling crew with two deaf members who had caught on to what was happening as they watch their fellow men jump off the ship. She was supposedly alive for the first few days of the tour, albeit with a nasty gash on her throat, but by the time she reached our town she floated lifelessly in the middle of the tank, heavy cement blocks tied to her wrist so she didn’t float to the water's surface. 

Her mouth hung limp, bits of flesh stuck between her far too sharp teeth, her eyes were a dull grey, and her caramel hair was matted with blood at the roots from where she had allegedly bashed her head repeatedly against the tank, but she was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen — and still have ever seen, really. There was something ethereal about her, something that made me yearn to hold her, to touch her, to have her be mine, even if she was cold and limp in my hands. I had pressed my fingers up against the glass just to feel the chill of her; it was only upon my younger brother tugging at my sleeve that I tore my gaze away from her chest. I realised then that I’d never see something so beautiful, for to have her behind the glass was undoubtedly part of her beauty.

But here they are, two of them sitting in the distance, one on a rock with her grey tail out, the other barely sticking out of the water. Even blurry as they are, more paint splotches on the landscape than creatures living, I can feel that same want claw its way into my heart. “Holy shit,” I say to Ben, hitting the binoculars against his chest. “How much do you think we can sell them for?”

Ben muses at that, and goes quiet, though slowly a sly grin appears on his face, the corners of his mouth puppeteered upwards by images of riches. “Two grand for the brown one, endless entertainment with the blonde.” 

At that I smile brighter. The maid might have to go.

We wake Henry with a dowsing of ice cold water, and barely manage to quiet him before he chews us out. He seems doubtful of our ability to catch them, but Ben and I quickly reassure him. We still have enough cotton left to stuff all our ears, after all, and as long as their voices are silenced mermaids are ultimately pretty frail things.

The stillness of the area — now deemed truly unnatural by Ben and I — seems a blessing as we sailed closer. I stop the boat when we get close enough to see the scene in detail, both so we can put the cotton in our ears and get out the nets, though I find myself unwillingly admiring the two first. Despite the chill of the spring water and its murky state, the two have a sort of bliss about them usually reserved for lovers. The blonde one is braiding something into the brunette’s curly hair, though I’m too far away to see exactly what, while she’s laying still with her head relaxed against the grey tail. She hums as she braids, and the other girl seemingly melts into her, though every so often she’ll stop singing to speak, and one time she decides to tug on her hair instead, resulting in a playful splashing. Her tits, covered sparsely in scales, bounce as she laughs with her whole body.

“Dibs on the first go,” Henry says, stuffing the cotton in his ears before Ben or I can argue. We follow suit; negotiations can be made later. The three of us check that the trawler’s still in the water, just in case, Henry grabs a net, and I slip Ben our harpoon gun as I make my way to the edge of the boat. We all know our roles.

I can tell when Henry has turned the engine on based not only on the rumbling beneath my feet, but the way the two creatures snap towards us. We’re close enough to see their expressions now, and I catch the startled look on both their faces, and the rapidly moving mouths that end with the blonde one straightening her shoulders and the curly one cowering deeper into the water. She smiles coyly at us, pink lips closed so as to not show the fangs that lurk beneath, and waves. I put on my best smile back, aiming for small and friendly, hiding my own grin.

She cocks her head, black irises narrowing as she looks up at the boat, no doubt to estimate the size of our crew. Happy with whatever she sees, her lips part, and I get the slightest glimpse of blood stained teeth before her mouth is pursed into a perfect little hole and she begins singing. I make myself sway back and forth, pretending to fix my hair as I push the cotton balls deeper in their place.

Henry joins us, stumbling slowly to the best of his ability, as though he too can feel her pull. God, he’s a good showman when he needs to be. I have to fight hard to keep my eyes hazy, especially as the curly brunette gains enough confidence to swim closer to the boat and peek her head out. From this close up I can see the shells and glittery stones braided in half her hair. They glimmer even without any sunlight.

Bingo, I think, and am rewarded by the sight of a harpoon shooting past me.

The cotton doesn’t block its piercing scream as its face curls in agony. It wiggles frantically under the water, body twisting and contorting in a mix of pain and desperation. Blood pools beneath its torso, and every so often its muted green tail splashes above the water to give a view of its impalement: the harpoon has gone all the way through, glimmering in time with the shells and stones. The red of the wound makes its tail pop more. 

By the time the blonde one jumps in to help its friend, I finally allowed myself to smile: even if they look human, they’re really no smarter than an animal. Henry and I rush to get the net down before it frees the harpoon from the other's tail, and sure enough, neither move in time. 

We hoist them up slowly, revelling in their appearance in the net, a glass more wonderful than any other. They’ve both given up singing, Blonde glaring as she holds Curly, making no effort to hide its fangs now. The gills on its cheek flare up and down, the black of its iris have taken over its entire eye, and its face carries the wrath of all the sea's storms, and yet it makes it no less beautiful. There’s a thrill, I think, in the fact I would soon see the storms replaced with the winds of submission you only find in the innocent, a thrill in the fact it will be broken and wanting by my hand. I smile at it, not disguising my own grin.

Ben partially cuts open the net and retracts the harpoon, causing Curly to cry out again and blood to pool on its friend and the floor. It’s a messy thing, I think with a thrown; I would have thrown it to the waves were it not for the fact it was practically gold. Blonde smacks her powerful tail against the deck, scooting back and forth like a toddler, but it does nothing but shake the boat a bit; Henry is quick to get behind her with a knife and put it up to her throat before she can cause any real damage.

I slowly pull the cotton out of my ear, and find myself greeted immediately by heavy breathing and cries. “Quiet,” I growl, though neither stop. I glare at them, reminding myself that they would soon learn how to obey, and getting angry doesn’t help anyone. They are bitches in need of training, and I need to be patient with them.

“Quiet down or I’ll have him slit your throat,” I say instead, calmer. That gets them to shut up.

I walk over to Ben, ignoring Blonde’s death stare. It can look all it want; it will learn to keep its eyes down soon. With a newfound excitement I rip the cotton out of Ben’s ears, who has been staring at Curly since he got the harpoon out. He had always had a thing for curly hair, and the creature was woman clearly enough to spark it. “Ben’ll move you and secure you somewhere different now,” I say, knowing his rope skills are better than mine. “Try anything and you’ll regret it.”

Ben approaches slowly, hunter to two deer. Blonde is still, accepting its role as prey with a prideful grace that angers me more than it should, and for a moment I think it’ll go smoothly. They’re breaking, the two of them. I almost feel bad — or maybe disappointed is the better word. I was expecting them to fight harder. Curly even quiets, my ears sharing in my heart's relief. I watch as Ben leans over to separate the two, the thrill of the hunt seemingly far away.

All three of us jump as Curly leaps and reaches its disgustingly long claws towards Ben's throat. 

It gets rewarded with a knife right into its own.

“Anyie’merts!” Blonde cries, a shrill dolphin pitch so far from the melodic tone it can sing, a true showing of its nature that washes the last of my doubts. It thrashes for Curly, but Henry thinks quick on his feet. He throws the knife out of reach, grabs its clawed hands, and digs them into its own back, causing it to weep and immobilising it. It's almost a pleasant sound, especially as the sobs soften and my heart responds to the reminder that the hunt is still there.

“Greedy,” I spit at it as I watch Ben drag its limp body towards a crate of fish and tie one of its hands to the railing with a short piece of thin brown rope. It slumps against the wood, weezing, blood pooling in its mouth. It doesn’t acknowledge my comment; just looks between the knife in its throat and its companion.

“I hope it doesn’t sell for less like this,” Ben mumbles, and grimaces down at his own hands. There’s blood coating his nails, and scales dug into his palm from when it thrashed and struggled. “Maybe this is the one we’ll keep.”

The look he gives it pulls me back to that day at the circus, and I realise he’s requesting rather than advising. “We’ll see,” I respond. I’m not quite willing to give up the blonde one’s tits.

Henry drags the other one by its tail, its hands already tied behind its back in white rope. Despite its attempts not to scratch itself there’s claw marks on its back. The tips of its claws are a distinct red, and one of them has partially cracked, swaying back and forth in the slight breeze.

As soon as Henry releases it it crawls towards Curly, throwing itself over its chest. Its breathing is laboured, as though it too was stuck with a knife, and it buries its scaly face into Curly’s neck like it’s a blanket. It murmurs squeakily into Curly’s ears, at first fast and panicked and angry, and then softens to the same small tone it sobbed in earlier. Its body puts pressure on Curly’s lungs. 

The quietness doesn’t last long. Still not taking its eyes off Curly, Blonde opens its mouth, this time not bothering to hide its fangs; a little piece of skin sticks out between its front teeth. It gets a single note out — melodic and deep, almost human — before Henry kicks it high up in its tail, the boot thudding heavily against the scales.

 “Hey!” he shouts, “no singing.” Blonde glares at him, but it lost the battle as soon as it shut its mouth. “And get the fuck off — you’ll just suffocate it.”

A light flickers in Ben’s eyes. He approaches the mermaids and crouches down, his tone softening, as though he was talking to a child: “Your friend here is hurt. We can help her. We just need some help back. Do you know Karpcombe?”

Blonde stills, and tentatively looks up at him. There’s a sceptical yet hopeful look in its eyes, a small child's curiosity. “A… aye,” it creaks, the words foreign on its tongue, and I recoil. It sounds wrong, an approximation of speech that creaks like floorboards on a sinking ship. It’s scratchy and rough, scratchier than the roughest chain-smokers I’ve met, and I find the warmth fades out of me as I’m once again reminded that this is a creature that needs to be claimed, not adored.

Ben is just as surprised as me, but he hides it much better: “Very good,” he says in the same tone, applauding the dog for performing a trick. Its eyes narrow, but it doesn’t respond. He pulls out an outdated map of the local area — stained in a mysterious liquid and aged by the sun — and hands it to Blonde. “That’s where we're from, and that’s where we need to get to. Show me where we found you, and when we get to somewhere we recognise we’ll patch her up.”

“You think it can read?” Henry pipes up from the back.

“It must know pictures, surely.”

I smirk: “If it didn’t it would be dumber than most bitches I met.”

Henry snorts, but Blonde doesn’t notice. It's scanning the old piece of paper like its scripture, eyes darting all over the place. All the white is gone now, leaving just a black void. After some seconds of silence, and as I’m starting to doubt if it can actually read, it slams its tail up and down so fast that I’m worried it’ll puncture a hole in the hull.

With an impressive flexibility, it contorts its body and points the tip of its tail to a patch of the sea much further out than we’d usually go, but not unreasonably far from home. Its tail clumps and folds on itself awkwardly, the heaviness of it obvious on Blonde’s face. The stretching leaves its slit visible, pink and small and assumedly tight, and I feel my mouth go dry: I’m not letting Henry ruin its hole first. 

Ben tries to move away, but it knocks him to his feet with its tail. It tries to crawl over, something pleading on its face, and this time I’m the one to pull it back from behind. I grab its tits and throw its body into me, holding it tight and scratching my uncut fingernails briefly into its slit causing it to whine; it's looser than I thought it would be, but will serve its purpose fine for the future. “Greedy,” I say, and it almost spits back, only reeling itself in when Curly squeezes its hand.

I let Blonde go, and it scampers over to Curly, and lays itself on its shoulder. It doesn’t speak this time; just breathes softly against its gills. Curly lifts its free hand to Blonde’s hair, the motion shaky and robotic. It tries to stroke Blonde, but the hand trembles with every twitch, and eventually it settles for simply holding Blonde close. Blonde whispers something slowly, and I wonder if it would sob, if I weren’t around. The thrill flares inside me at how they shiver.

Ben manages to negotiate himself to a resting spot thanks to his hand, and no one trusts me to steer, so Henry takes navigation by default. He’s not the best navigator, but we eventually hit clear blue water, and stones I recognise. I’m about to get up to help curly, but Ben stills my hand: ‘Wait,’ he mouths, and subtly drags a finger over his throat. Not that the subtle bit particularly matters: Blonde’s world right now is Curly, and Curly’s world right now seems vacant and small.

I don’t quite get what he’s waiting for until we reach the last bit of truly open water, and I hear, hidden between gulls and waves and the steady chugging of the boat, the first spoken word in an hour: “...Anyie’merts?”

Blonde sits up, gets itself off Curlys shoulders for the first time. “Anyie’merts?” it calls again, most desperate, and throws itself against its chest, misshapen ear pressed right against where its heart would be, and freezes from the chill as soon as it makes contact. It doesn’t scream, doesn’t make a sound, but the light that cracks in its eyes and tears that promptly follow are loud enough that they echo through the whole ocean.

I didn’t need her tears to tell me Curly was dead, though: it was obvious just by looking at her. She carries the same sort of etherealness that the mermaid at the circus did, this weightless serenity that transcends all else. She’s pretty — oh so pretty — small and meek and quiet in her state. There’s an undeniable femininity that springs to her, an awakening of sorts in her new state, not corrupted by blood or pain or screaming or crying. I look at her, really look at her, and I see what Ben saw: her hair is curled in cute coils like those my older sister had, her golden skin gleams softly as though it were the sun itself, and she curves in all the way a woman is supposed to. It’s a shame she died, though maybe that’s the price of transcendence.

Henry stops the boat and comes around to look: “Is it dead?” 

“She’s dead, yes,” Ben says, staring at her like she's a lamb. “We can maybe sell her scales,” he says with disappointment, though the way he bounces his leg is a quick tell that feigned is all it is. There���s a restlessness to him: he sees her now, and she’s all his to take. He just needs permission.

“We can cut her free, then,” I say. I turn to Henry: “Why don’t you cut her free and then you and Ben can do a little… inspection in the cabin. I can drive us to shore meanwhile: we have one good sale to make”

Blonde looks at us for the first time, though it still leans heavily over her. Henry pats himself up and down at the word knife for a bit, before smiling sheepishly: “I, uh, don’t know where I placed it.”

“I’ll do it,” Ben responds instantly, and he’s already on his feet before I can even mock Henry for his forgetfulness. He pauses right before he reaches them, stares down at Blonde with a warning of ire; he’ll do anything for his prize. The threat isn’t needed any longer, though, as all it does is kiss her once on the neck before rolling off without so much as a threat, and going limp as a ragdoll on the deck: seeing it makes my blood pump. There’s a fire in its eyes still, but it can now be quenched and lit on command, that I’m sure of: I’ll make sure it only burns for me.

They lift her up, the brown rope falling to the floor, and Ben can barely contain the smirk on his face. Henry’s not doing much better, finally having caught on, and finally seeing it as her too. “She’s heavy,” Ben grumbles, and I make my way over to help lift her. My prize isn’t going anywhere, anyway.

We lay her down on the floor gently, a precious gem that can’t be cracked. Still, the gentleness surely won’t last long, for I can already hear a zipper going down.

My own prize has wiggled its way to the other side of the boat, restless to get away from the blood pool of its friend perhaps, but lies perfectly still otherwise. Its eyes are blank, doll-like buttons, and its breathing is laboured, but I can still see the fire bubbling under the surface. The restraint, the submission, spreads the fire to myself. 

I feel Ben’s restlessness manifest inside me as I watch it transform. Its hair is silky and smooth, its lips the pink of a strawberry; their scaled chest is perky and soft, tits just waiting for me to grab, bouncing up and down with every breath; her slit is inviting and open for me, swollen and wanting after my finger. She wants me: she’s mine. All mine. I’ve earned her; I can be greedy. 

I recognise the beast for what it is now: possessiveness. There is a fire within me and it burns for her fuel, burns to consume and feast on all it can find. It cares little for if she remains unbruised, cares little for her sale, cares little for the fact her skin is scaled: she has submitted, she has given herself to me, and it's the flames to take. In its heat I don’t care about the grunts from behind me, or almost stumbling over a piece of white rope on the floor, or the waves that crash higher than they did before: she is my prize now, all mine to claim.

I scan her with my eyes. Scan her hair and eyes and lips; scan the throat with a knife indent, scan her tits and feel my body come alive; scan down to her perfect little soft waist, up to her small shoulders, to the rope that…

‘Rope…’ I realise, and stare, for there is nothing left to do.

I don’t scan her hands. I don’t have the time to.

The fire is back now, but this time not my own. I wonder if it ever truly left.

It's on me before I know it, its entire white tail crushing my ribs. Curly’s blood rubs off on my leg, and despite the cool air its body burns on me with the heat of a thousand suns. Henry’s knife is pointed to my chest, and a clawed hand on my throat: “Quiet,” its stammers, red-rimmed eyes like a knife to my soul, “quiet or slit your throat.” 

“Please,” I whispered to my captor, “please God have mercy.”

And at that it stills. It throws the knife away from my heart, though it keeps the bear trap of a hand gripped at my throat. It looks at me — really looks at me — and I recognise what was in its void eyes instantly: it was in my own mere moments previously.

I’ve asked for too much..

“Greedy,” is all she says, before the bear trap clamps on my throat. I try to scream, I try to cry, but I can’t hear either; all I can taste is the blood in my mouth.

She jumps off me, and her tail slams so hard against the deck that I can see her bones bend. My ears start ringing as I watch the waves crash around us, the sea itself caught in her flame. 

I know my fate as soon as I feel cold water on my back. The water is here to claim me, now. It’s here to swallow me whole. 

I close my eyes. I try not to cry, not to be too loud. The water is here for me now, and mixed with the iron and salt and fear are the strings of submission pulling me to my death.

And all I can do is let them.

Greedy thing.

[kookygranger]

WIP Docs Game

I had to google it to figure it out lol. Thank you @somnambulic-thing, you absolutely may! ✨

This was the first Eddie fic that I wrote way back when the boy first barreled into our lives (It was just for @storiesbyrhi to read). It was supposed to be a series featuring Henderson!reader, in which you volunteer to take (an alive) Eddie post-S4 as far away from Hawkins as possible while everything gets sorted out.

You barely know Eddie, but you've promised Dustin you'll look after him and you do so on a road trip that gets more intimate with each passing border. Each chapter was going to be based on a song from your road trip soundtrack.

You can just have the whole first draft if you want 🤷🏻‍♀️ I don't have plans to finish it though, I really lost steam immediately after the first chapter.

CHAPTER 1: THE KILLING MOON

“Are you sure?”

You threw your bag into the back of the beat-up compact car starting to get a little irritated by Eddie’s persistence. Looking over the roof of the car however, your irritation dissipated as you clocked the worried look in his dark brown eyes. This was a lot to ask of someone who’d only really known him for a couple of weeks. It would’ve been a lot to ask of someone he’d known his whole life.

“It would be a bit awkward going back now after saying a heartfelt goodbye to everyone, Munson.”

Eddie looked down, hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt around him.

“I promised Dustin I’d keep you safe, Eddie.” You stretched your arms across the roof of the car. “Besides, I’d rather be going on a road trip than going up against an evil Wizard in the underworld…or whatever.”

“I don’t think being on the run from the law counts as a road trip.” Eddie rested his elbows on the car opposite you, leaning his head on his closed fist.

“We’re not running Eddie.” He winced at that. “We’re just not letting those small-minded hicks win.” Eddie perked up, smirking. “Plus, I’ve got a shit tonne of snacks and some killer tapes to soundtrack our little cross-country trek. Now that to me, Eddie Munson,” you opened the door to the driver’s seat, “sounds like the start of an epic road trip.”

He liked how you’d always say his name when talking to him. Not in the same distain or hushed judgmental tone he was used to. Sometimes irritated, or worried, but mostly softly. It never failed to make his stomach flip.

You both settled into the car, buckling seat belts, Eddie’s leg bouncing like crazy as you adjusted the rear-view mirror.

“You think your brother’s jealous he doesn’t get to come?” Eddie chuckled trying to distract himself from fidgeting too much.

You looked over at him with a smile, one hand on the steering wheel as you turned the keys in the ignition. “I think he’d be kicking himself if he didn’t get to show off that big brain of his with a brilliant plan to save the world.” Eddie nodded, smiling. “Also, you’ve never been trapped in a small space with Dustin for an extended period of time. Trust me…it’s better this way.” He cackled at that as you pulled out of the trailer park.

This was it. No turning back now. You were officially on the run with a fugitive. Terrifying yes, but it was to keep Eddie safe…for Dustin, of course.

Eddie began rummaging through the tapes you’d brought. Curiosity written across his face, smiling to himself when he recognised names that surprised him, like The Ramones, Iggy Pop or The Smiths (actually that one he totally would’ve guessed).

You stared straight at the road, hands tight around the wheel. Trying to ignore the little voice in your head that was asking if you’d be doing the same thing for Steve.

“Echo & the Bunnymen?”

You looked over at Eddie, his eyebrow raised in confusion.

“What does that even mean?”

“Put it on and you’ll find out” you smiled.

***

You never really had a plan in place. You knew you needed to get as far away from Hawkins as possible, and that staying in one place for too long probably wasn’t a good idea. Going further South definitely wasn’t an option, even with Eddie in relatively plain clothes. He wouldn’t stand a chance with that hair.

You thought Chicago could be cool and Eddie agreed, so North-West you went.

For the first hour neither of you spoke much. You focussed on the road while Eddie picked out music, both of you too nervous to carry the conversation. As Eddie moved to put on another of your tapes, you spoke up.

“You can put on your own music you know.” You hadn’t exactly seen what Eddie had packed in his getaway bag, but you were sure he didn’t leave his beloved metal behind.

“I don’t think you’ll like my stuff,” Eddie shook his head.

“Maybe not. But I’ve never really tried listening to metal, and it’s only fair if we take in turns,” you shrugged.

Eddie bit his bottom lip, “Trust me sweetheart, if life were fair you wouldn’t be facing endless highways sat next to the town freak.” Eddies hands moved in the air theatrically as he talked, his rings catching the light and your attention from the corner of your eye. “You deserve pick of the tunes…you deserve much more.” Eddie mumbled the last bit, but you still caught it.

You sighed, “Fine. Then I pick the Dio album.”

Eddie smirked, “The Dio album?”

“Yeah,” you waved vaguely over at Eddie, “you know the one on the back of your jacket, which by the way Steve was totally reluctant to give back to you. I’m pretty sure his mum still picks out most of his clothes.”

Eddie snickered, “Well I’ve got all three, but this one’s my favourite.” He held up a tape decorated in a detailed scene of a demon like creature set against a sky not unlike that of Hawkins’ currently.

“Well pop her in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Teach me the way of the metal head, Munson.” you deadpanned. “We’ve come this far you may as well ruin me.”

Eddie’s mouth turned up in disbelief, staring at you for far too long before fumbling with the cassette and sliding it into the dashboard.

You were glad the light was starting to fade, hopefully the redness burning your cheeks wasn’t that noticeable. What the fuck was that? Ruin you?!!

You told Eddie you wanted him to explain every song and what it meant to him, so he did. Bouncing in his seat as his hands whipped around wildly. “Ooh ooh listen to this part, it’s so fucking good,” as he drummed on the dashboard. “Wait for iiit” hands shredding an imaginary guitar when the solo peaked. You laughed and nodded along, encouraging the theatrics, the initial awkward silence now long forgotten as you drove past forests thick with pine trees.

Darkness loomed, threatening to seep into the small car with thoughts of what you were both leaving behind and possibly even worse, what might be chasing you. But the laughter and music kept it from reaching its way in. To the outside world, you were just two friends on route to an unknown destination, car full of snacks and good music. For now, anyway.

[f0xgl0v3]

The Octavian and Michael Quest; Story Snippet

Hahaha I’ve done it. I’m finally going mad, anyways after staring longingly at the Converse wedge high tops vowing to one day add them to my collection (and for some reason way more publicity on the post) I’ve decided that I’m making a like teaser for the Octavian-Michael fanfic I talked about all those weeks ago. Also I’m really bored this mid-winter break and I’m a mediocre narrative writer soo uh

Also if my google docs yell at me one more time because apparently the way I spell something is the British English way I’m going to scream. I’m sorry but it’s travelled. Anyways, I’d like to say again in no way am I an author nor do I think I write stories particularly well. There’s probably a reason why most of my big posts are formatted the way they are,

Also sorry no Michael in the sneak peak/ first bit I wrote, this is just the like. Set up? It’s mean to be short and sweet, enjoy! (also this isn’t proofread I’m so sorry),

I should’ve just chosen to use dice or birds primarily, Octavian thought as he pulled his dagger through another stuffed animal. It stung a bit, partially from the repeated weight of taking the golden blade through fabrics and partially because he had to. The dove between his hands looked pleading with its plastic eyes, the same sound of threads ripping apart while stuffing piled out. It caught in his ears again, the ringing that came before the voices. The same feeling of hair standing on end that Jason described when lightning was about to strike, and that’s when it began,

“Great strife shall befall the legion,” He had heard this voice before, the mixed harmony of several Gods murmuring before one truly broke through. It took awhile to get used to, his ears still rang after most of the Auguries, and Octavian could barely hear his own voice murmur in reply,

“What’s going on?” it felt odd to ask, Octavian’s own voice sounding desperate and panicked, though usually his tone reflected those of the Gods. The world around grew blurry while the harmony thinned out to one single melodious voice, humming in his ears, Venus, something in his mind decided,

“[the super duper cool prophecy that will be there at some point I pinky Promise]”

The world spun some more, and once Octavian’s vision settled the stuffed dove and his dagger had been dropped to the altar, his brows furrowed and breath a bit frantic while he tried to make some sense of what was just delivered to him. A prophecy. An actual prophecy. Octavian tenderly picked up the stuffed dove and dagger again, first giving the poor thing an apology and sewing it back up, gently holding it while he exited the Augurculanum. The blinding rays of the sun beat down on his eyes while Octavian made the run to the Principa from ground zero. His hand tightened around the dove, which was decidedly now named Beatrice. His boots crunched against the gravel roads that wound between most of the buildings. He opted not to walk on the main Via Principa; there would;ve been too many legionnaires walking back from the fields of Mars anyway.

Finally reaching the Principa was always a relief. It was great having most of the buildings Octavian had to go to in the Porta Praetoria; It meant everything was in arms reach. But also subsequently meant that heading to the Principa took longer and always felt more daunting (not to mention the Principa itself always felt impossibly big). Octavian rushed up the few steps and into the door, walking through the big halls and passing several doors and legionnaires before finally slipping into the main office. His eyes travelled to the Praetors; who snapped up once they realized he was there. Marcus spoke up first, already concerned,

“What happend?”

——————————————————————————

That’s it! Uh, I didn’t want to type up a giant thing so there’s the short and sweet version. It’s also a draft partially? It’s my first time writing this little section. I also tried to keep it from being like.. super ahdiajfbsj like how I usually write things. Also the actual one will probably be first person because that means I can do my super fun parenthesis bits in character and that makes me happy.

Anyway goodnight internet.

[roetrolls]

(This drabble was a full-blown collab between me and Chase @sasster!! Did it on a shared google doc and everything !!!)

Can You Hear the Thunder?

As much as Orfuse has been hoping to prolong the inevitable, the conversation he needs to have simply cannot be put off any longer. It’s unfair, isn't it? As comfortable as he has gotten bouncing from Aderae, to Lazali, to even Maelia’s hive over the last few weeks, he cannot avoid the truth forever. He’s made his beloved moirail wait for far too long, and it’s about time he made room in his new life for Harlan.

Orfuse stands in front of the church, heart in his throat and his free hand fiddling about with a loose thread from his sweater. Perhaps there was no new life, and he had instead been summoned to suffer some eternal torment. This feels nothing short of torture. Before him the church looms high; Cold, unyielding, uncaring. Unlike the troll that accompanies him, the one who doesn’t seem to mind the deathlike clutch with which Orfuse hangs onto his shirt.

Though the fuchsia looks bored with the circumstance, his body language suggests quite the opposite. He stands with an arm wrapped around the brownbloods shoulder and his tail hovering around his waist, a stance Orfuse would usually observe him taking with Lazali whenever he caught someone unfavorable staring a little too hard. The truth is, Maelia is entirely unlike anything that the oracle assumed of him, and nothing like what awaits him on the other side of that door

The thought tugs at his heart.

“Harly, uhm. He’d be beside himself if he saw us like this.” He mumbles, shrugging out from under the larger troll and closer to the church doors. “He wouldn’t like it.”

“‘Course he wouldn’t.” Maelia says seemingly unfazed, shrugging his own shoulders as he places a cigarette between his lips. “Hurry up in there. Laz is waiting.”

Orfuse nods once and turns to face the oversized entryway. There is a moment of hesitation before he pushes his way in, into the church he’d only seen in visions of his moirail at his worst.

Doubt starts to prick at his resolve almost immediately.

Maybe this was a mistake.

If the church’s facade was daunting, its interior is downright inhospitable. How much effort did it take, to drain this place so completely of warmth?

Orfuse hugs his arms to his chest, though it does little to dispel the chill that flitters up his spine.

I can’t imagine my Harly in a place like this.

It’s what he wants to think. But he can’t, not honestly. It is all too easy to picture Harlan traipsing through these halls, and that knowledge breaks his heart even more.

His fingers curl around the fabric of his sweater, grounding him as they poke through the gaps in the wool. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor, unwilling to view the chapel in its entirety. He cannot bring himself to see the throne. Does not have the will to gaze upon Harlan’s likeness, stern and severe in the looming towers of stained glass.

He is saving his resolve for the real thing.

Fortunately—or perhaps not—he is not made to wait long. For a man Harlan’s size, speed was never much of a concern. He could move quicker than most even at his most leisurely pace, and Orfuse had never known him to hurry.

Which is why it is so jarring to see him barreling into the church at a run, skidding to a halt just beyond the threshold to the compound as he enters the room.

For a moment Orfuse stays stuck in place, drinking in all of Harlan as he stands before him. This is unfair, it is cruel the way his heart begins thrumming in his chest. It’s him, it’s his Harly, kissed by age. What he wouldn’t give to let himself be wrapped up in his arms. To be enveloped by the behemoth before him. What was it Lazali called it?

Losing himself to Harlan. How easy would it be to lose himself again?

Harlan's mouth moves as he drinks in the sight of the oracle just the same with those haunting, pink accented eyes, but it seems that whatever he means to say is trapped within his throat.

Orfuse does not like the glow of his voodoos, they make his stomach turn and, by some twist of fate, help him patch the holes in his already crumbling resolve. He straightens up and gives his arms a squeeze for reassurance.

“Harly, you won’t be very happy with me.” He manages. The attempt to stick to his guns is weak at best, his voice small. Though, that couldn’t possibly be an issue with the way he holds all of the purple blood's attention.

Harlan is silent for a moment as he processes his words, perhaps taken by the sound of his dear moirail, the confirmation that this is all in fact real. Then, without warning, he moves forward to close the distance between them with two large, effortless strides, and just as quickly as he entered the room he is on his knees, cupping a hand around the smaller trolls face.

The scent of pine fills Orfuses nose. He feels at home.

“To think I could be anything but thrilled to hold you once again…”

The smoothness of his voice hits Orfuse the same way his smell did, and the oracle finds himself leaning into his touch. Would it be so bad to lose himself to Harlan again?

He shakes his head to expel the thought. It is a selfish one.

“I miss you so much, Harly…” He reaches up to cup what he can of Harlan’s hand. “But I can’t stay.”

Harlan nearly recoils, reacting to Orfuse’s words as if he has been slapped. He searches the smaller man’s face with incredulity, brows knitting together to spell his confusion and concern. With the smallest shake of the head, he takes Orfuse’s free hand in his, stroking his cheek with one tender thumb.

He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, noticing for the first time how the lights of his eyes poison his beloved moirail’s face. He blinks, taking a deep breath into his lungs. Then, for the first time since losing Orfuse, the Dominion turns his powers off.

“My Orfuse…” He whispers, swallowing hard. “You can. You must.” 

It is not an order, but a pained, desperate plea, and it compels Orfuse more than Harlan’s voodoos ever could.

Now staring into the eyes of his Harlan, without that insidious glow blocking his view, he softens. So too does his resolve.

Orfuse takes his hand from around Harlans and reaches to touch his face gingerly. How could he stand to hurt Harlan like this? Harlan never hurt him, for as long as they’ve known each other.

He swallows as he lets his thumb stroke the side of his face, lingering along the edge of the wrinkles that crown his eye.

“I want to, I really do.” Memories of the last time he denied Harlan start to dredge up, and already tears begin to sting at the corners of his eyes. “But I can’t. I… Harly. Your dominion. It’s not for me.”

His voice is low, barely above a whisper itself. Harlan must know how hard it is to deny him. Why, then, is he making it harder?

“Harly. It’s for the best..” Is it?

Harlan’s expression tightens almost imperceptibly as he studies his moirail’s face for an explanation. Because surely there is an explanation. So carefully he squeezes Orfuses hand in his, the desperation in his eyes masking whatever else he might be feeling in the moment.

“Best for whom?” This one is a demand, but it is so saturated in concern that Orfuse barely registers it as one.

“For me?” He does not sound as sure as he’d like to, having already lost himself in those eyes.

Harlan’s jaw hardens, but his touch remains gentle as ever. He sweeps a lock of hair from Orfuse’s face and stares at him with intent, focus flickering from freckle to freckle as if checking that each cluster is accounted for. 

“Do you truly believe that?”

Orfuse doesn’t respond, certain that his silence is the only thing keeping his tears at bay. He drops his head to stare at his feet, though a light touch on his chin guides his gaze back to Harlan and those deep, purple eyes.

“Please,” the giant mutters, “reconsider.”

“You know I’ll always love you,” he offers weakly.

That grips Harlan, a spark of genuine worry flashing across his face. He is beginning to understand that this resistance is not just for show.

“Orfuse,” he tries again, desperation seeping into his voice.

“Harlan… It’s… This is already difficult.” Orfuse averts his eyes again, and this time Harlan allows it.

“Would you rather it be easy?” There is so much hurt in his voice. Orfuse can’t bear to look at him, wishing desperately that he could sink into the cold tiled floor beneath his feet.

 “No… But I… Would like it if you weren’t committed to making it harder.”

“I can’t lose you.” He releases Orfuse’s hand to brush a knuckle across the smaller man’s cheek, the slightest tremor running through his weathered palms. “Not again…”

For a moment, Orfuse stops breathing as he once again reaches up to take Harlan’s hand into his. This time, he wraps them both around it, and as upsetting as it is to admit, the action turns out to be a very grounding one. Slowly he expels the breath that trapped itself in his lungs as he starts to stroke along the detail of the giant’s hand. Along every imperfection that reminds him what he was robbed of.

They were supposed to grow old together, that was the plan.

“I don’t want to lose you again either, Harlan.” He finally admits, tears flowing freely now. What is the point in hiding them? He never could with Harlan at any rate.

“You do not have to.” Harlan says, fingers curling around the smaller troll's hands in an effort to keep them still. It sounds so simple on his silver tongue. Smooth, effortless coercion. “Who says that you must?”

“I have to. There’s no…There’s no space for me here. It’s. Everything..” Suddenly Orfuse screws his eyes shut and his features shift into an unpleasant expression. He pulls a hand back to press the heel of the palm into his temple, an attempt to disperse the pool of visions his mind pulls forward from his memory. “Everything happened here. I can’t stay.”

Harlan does not release the other hand, he instead rubs his thumb over the back of it in small circles. Just as soothing as everything else about him, he reaps the benefits of a lifetime to learning how to ground the man.

“How could I explain my decision to stay to them?”

The ghost of something sinister passes over Harlan’s face. It is not often that his actions have consequences.

“Them,” he echoes, expression sour. “What need have you to explain yourself to them? Punishing me will not undo their suffering.”

“I’m not… Punishing you,” Orfuse warbles helplessly.

“There is space,” Harlan interjects, free hand moving to join the other in holding him. Kneeling in front of the oracle with his palms clasped together, it nearly looks like prayer. “There is space.”

Orfuse feels the corners of his mouth pull into a troubled frown, lips pressing themselves into a thin line. He starts to shake his head.

“There has always been space— In here, in me,” Harlan pleads, jabbing five curled fingers into his chest. “To have all this and you, my darling… It is all I have ever wanted.”

He sounds almost breathless, and Orfuse can’t quite swallow the lump growing in his throat.

Harlan’s jaw seems to grind slightly, tongue moving in his mouth as he grasps for what to say. There is a ferocity in his eyes, a terrible certainty that if he can only find the correct words to speak, then at last he will have everything. 

His gaze softens. “If I had known that this was where you drew the line… If I had only had you here to temper me…” Gently, he squeezes the smaller man’s hands, his voice so smooth it makes Orfuse’s heart ache with longing. “I need you, beloved. Who else can stop me?”

Harlan’s words ring louder in his ears than the visions that his mind conjured, the larger than life hands around his own root him back to reality.

There’s a valid point. No one can take care of Harlan quite like him. And is the reverse not also true? For no one really knows what Orfuse needs better than Harlan.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, considerable effort going into getting it down. With his vision blurred by his tears, he searches Harlan’s face for any sign that there is remorse for his actions, that there is anything left of his beloved moirail.

Before him stands a behemoth, the vessel of his childhood love that, prior to this exact moment, was smugly satisfied with the terror he had wrought. Upset not because he has caused great harm, but because he is being made to answer for those crimes. Does he even care about the effects his actions have had on the oracle? Orfuse digs around for his voice again, and when he finds it it is pathetic and small. A cry dies in his throat. Instead, he steals a quick glance over his shoulder at the door he’d entered through, worry creasing his browline.

What happens if he stays? Maelia would not return empty handed. His love for Lazali, the care for his well being extended much further than even his own self preservation. How unfair is that? What is stopping Harlan from being that for him? They’ve known each other a fraction of the time.

When Orfuse’s attention drifts back to Harlan, there is a shift in the atmosphere. The air is heavy enough that it all but threatens to suffocate. Something dark dances behind those deep, purple eyes, as though in that brief second, he’d been able to make some connections.

Harlan watches Orfuse with a set jaw.

“You don’t want to be stopped,” the oracle finally breaks the silence that worked so hard to choke him out. “You never wanted to be stopped before.” “Who brought you here?” Another demand from the giant as he focuses his gaze on the door. The darkness that grew in his eyes evolves into an unreadable and dangerous expression that crosses his features. Once again his jaw seems to grind as he searches for the words to say. “Who is waiting on you?”

The implication is clear, anyone who knew the pair would be able to see that Orfuse could never willingly give up his Harlan. Someone got into his head, the only question that remains of that mystery is who.

“No one!” He doesn’t shout, the response is more like a high pitched squeal. A desperate squeak. “It doesn’t matter. I asked them to bring me.”

“It matters that they would subject you to this torture, my love.” There it is again. Effortless, smooth coercion. “It is unfair to you.”

Suddenly, indignance curls itself around Orfuse’s heart like a fist, and it’s his turn to recoil. For a split second, he feels anger. It flashes across his face.

“Is it so hard to believe that I could stand up on my own?” The anger that started hot in his chest starts to fizzle out, and he loses the steam needed to maintain it just as quickly as he’d collected it. Still, he presses on. “That I could operate based on my own morals just this once?” They both know the answer to that question. He would never choose to abandon him on his own accord.

Why would he?

Harlan watches him for a moment, eyes darting around his face to once again soak him in. He reaches to wipe the tears away.

Orfuse lets him.

“Don’t do this.”

“I have to…”

Harlan’s frown deepens. “You truly feel that you are better off without me?” The hurt in his voice nearly conceals his mounting frustration.

“No,” Orfuse whimpers. “I don’t. I’m not…”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t,” he cries, wrapping a hand around Harlan’s thumb.

“Why did you come here, love, if not to be persuaded?” He asks quietly, wrinkles highlighted by the furrow in his brow.

“To say goodbye.”

“To break my heart,” Harlan says forcefully, loath to be fighting a losing battle. He takes a deep breath, gathering back his composure, and speaks softly once more. “My dearest Orfuse… I beg you. Stay.”

Orfuse lets his gaze sweep across Harlan’s face, taking in as much of him as he possibly can while he struggles to get his legs working. This is it, after all, he came and said what needed to be said.

Now he just needs to leave.

Why can’t he leave?

He opens his mouth to speak, but before the words find their way out, Harlan shifts to wrap him up in both arms. All at once, he becomes the smaller troll’s entire world.

Becomes? No, this only serves as a reminder.

Harlan is his whole world. He always has been, he always will be.

When he speaks, his voice rumbles through him.

“My love, you must stay with me. What am I meant to do without you?”

Orfuse leans into him, selfishly drinking in every ounce of his beloved moirail that he can. His scent, his strength, the way the coldness of his skin permeates and lingers on his clothes, the sorrow concealing frustration in his voice.

“Harlan,” his shaky voice is muffled into the giant's chest. He sucks in a deep breath. “I love you so much more than my heart can take. But I have to. Please, Harly, please let me go.”

As he begs, he grips tightly onto the purple blood’s shirt with trembling hands.

“Please, let this departure be on good terms.” He would die otherwise. “Please.”

Harlan places a hand on the back of Orfuse’s head, pressing the smaller man into his body as if trying to absorb him.

“If you leave I will be furious,” he warns, voice low. “But not with you. Never with you.”

He draws back to gaze upon his lover once more, grasping his chin with a finger and thumb. His eyes are misty.

“Go, if you are set on it. Your place will be waiting for you.” Slowly, he brings his face close to Orfuse’s, all but devouring him with deep, tired eyes. “You know you are mine, my love. You know I will always be yours.”

Orfuse could not respond if he wanted to, but he does not get the chance to try before Harlan’s lips are on his, soft, cool, and intoxicating. He holds him there for a moment far too short, then pulls away and rises to his feet.

“Leave, then. Before it can be said I did not let you."

[alpurrtwhizkersss]

Please write for Q. No one does and it’s so sad

I Love You

Requested By: Anonymous!

Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff

Prompt: None

Author’s Note: this one was actually an OC fic that I’ve taken and converted into an X Reader, so if anything sounds strange or out of context then that’s why lol, but I think it translates pretty well to a self insert, apart from the weird formatting… that’s just a Google Docs-Tumblr issue lol :) hope you enjoy, anon!

Q opened his eyes, the small beams of light from between his curtains hit him like a tiny truck, he groaned and rolled over onto his front, welcoming the darkness of his pillow. Another night of that dream.

That had been the third week in a row in which Q had been subjected to reliving his experience with Y/N in that tiny storage room. It had also been three weeks since the incident had occurred, and Q felt… strange. He still loved Y/N as much as he did before the kiss, only… he wasn’t sure if Y/N felt the same. Trying to read Y/F/N Y/L/N was like trying to read a book upside down while riding a horse… in lava, it was difficult, and Q wasn’t much of a people-person, anyway, which made the whole situation worse. Q sighed, and swung his tired legs over the side of his bed, he glanced down at where Y/N was asleep beside him and took in their features, still fast asleep. He gazed lovingly over their eyes and marvelled at how beautiful their Y/H/C hair falling across their face made them look, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You shouldn’t frown, Q… it imprints on you, love.” Q perked up and noticed that Y/N’s eyes were only slightly open, yet still open enough to see the man staring at them, he ducked his head and felt heat flush his cheeks, he didn’t bother to stutter out a reply as he stood to begin to make breakfast.

Y/N let out a quiet sigh at this movement, and got up to follow him, their footsteps padded slowly behind him as they yawned and rubbed their eyes.

“Would you rather have toast or cereal for breakfast?” Q called to them, his voice slightly raspy from lack of use overnight. Y/N walked up behind him and wrapped their arms around his waist, leaning their head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek, Q smiled softly before catching himself, can’t get attached, he thought, you’ll only get hurt, he wriggled out of their grip softly and walked over to the coffee machine to begin preparing his drink.Y/N, as usual, hid their hurt feelings behind an emotionless face. “I’ll have cereal, please.” they spoke, and Q nodded. Y/N made their way over to the breakfast table and smiled as one of Q’s cats rubbed herself against their leg. “Hello, gorgeous girl.” they cooed, kneeling down to stroke the furless fur-baby. “I think Bellamy likes me, Q.” but Q didn’t reply, only continued pouring the milk into their cereal. Y/N narrowed their eyes and stood, staring holes into the back of his head. “Q, did I do something to upset you last night?” they questioned softly, trying to hide the hurt behind their words, Q shrugged and brought their bowl over to the table, “No, you didn’t.” He said simply, and Y/N narrowed their eyes, taking a seat at the table as Q sat on the opposite side, “Then… Why are you acting so withdrawn?”, they asked, eating a spoonful of their cereal, Q suddenly slammed his spoon down on the table, he stared angrily at Y/N.

“Why am I acting withdrawn? You want to know why I– alright, fine! I don’t know how you feel about me, Will, you’re so loving and affectionate with me here, at home, but when we’re at work you… lose that completely! If you want to just be friends, it’s fine, you can tell me, but please, for the love of God, stop leading me in circles.” Q spoke loudly, and Y/N was slightly taken aback. Their eyes searched Q’s, and they found themself unsure of what to say for a moment. Suddenly, their confusion turned to anger, they stood up and stared him down from the other side of the table.

“I can’t believe I’m actually hearing this, oh my God! Q, do you honestly think that I’d act like this with you if I wasn't completely and irrevocably in love with you? I don’t just want to be friends, Q, I want to be loved by you… romantically, I want to do all the stupid, lame things that couples do, like- like going on picnic dates, and dancing to the terrible songs on the radio at 3 in the morning, and cuddling until we fall asleep in each others arms-” Y/N sputtered out, their pace making their words almost unintelligible to anybody if they weren’t listening intently, Q spoke their name softly, his expression changed to a regretful one.

“No, no, it’s my turn to speak, and your turn to listen, Q. The reason I don’t interact with you much at work anymore is because I don’t want to embarrass you! I don’t want to be all weird and couple-y because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I don’t want to be too much for you, but I- I want you to love me…”

The silence in the room was deafening, Y/N stared at Q.

“Say something, Q…” they swallowed, their hands clammy and their eyes watering, Q stood up from his seat and slowly walked over to Y/N, he stared them right in the eyes, and kissed them. Y/N grasped at his face immediately, letting tears fall from their eyes as he pulled back. “Does that mean that you like me again?” they spoke softly, their voice raw and shaky, “I’ll always like you. I’ll always love you, actually. You’re my home.” Q replied, smiling softly.

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