#but also it's 8 years old so /shrug/

[elumish]

How are you so smart

I would NEVER have the opportunity or source to learn the details of swordfighting

Thanks!

My main writing sword fighting post is from like 8.5 years ago and so it's mostly based on my experience doing a really niche form of weapons-based martial art called Tenshin Shōden Katori Shintō-ryū where I studied primarily iaido and paired katas with a bokken, along with some bōjutsu (bō staff katas).

Since then I've also done jūjutsu that was mostly strikes/joint locks/throws but also included some weapon training, as well as very minimal amounts of aikido weapon training (mostly jō with some bokken) and some Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA).

All of that is to say that, if you're looking for a place to learn swords or other weapons, there are almost certainly places near you to find it. There may be a HEMA group near you (though you need to be careful because some of them lean a little too hard into the historical European part of it in all the worst ways), and/or other martial arts places near you (e.g., aikido, jūjutsu) may have weapons classes.

[mlyscha]

↳ DRESS TO IMPRESS? ⭑

𝓼ynopsis. in which you convince your boyfriend to play dress to impress with you, will they slay the runway? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, not proofread, riki is that annoying player and almost all the members are bad at this game ㅠㅠ, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1k+ 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: oh gosh i had so much fun writing this, especially because i am addicted to this game lol anyway, do you guys have any headcanon request? i am curious...

― 𝓱eeseung: gets upset but doesn't quit playing.

you might be wondering why heeseung changed his mood like that, and that's because placing on the podium in dress to impress is hard ― for him. in the beginning, and sometimes unfair. when you told him you wanted to play with him ― your boyfriend was feeling very happy and giddy, creating his account the same second, not knowing how he would feel a few rounds later...

"BRO?! HOW DID SHE PLACED?!" he screamed after standing up from bed while his hands rested against his head, indignant. "LOOK AT ME, I LOOK MUCH PRETTIER!" and heeseung turned his ipad screen at you after laying back on his stomach on bed. "hee, baby... your skin is literally blue, that's not what coquette means..." you replied. "nonsense, even my fit is better! and you placed second you can't say shit! i am not playing this game anymore." he argued, throwing his ipad away from him. "don't quit, continue playing with me," you pouted, waiting for a new round to start. "i'm sorry, baby, but this game is absolutely dog shi- a new round has begun?" when the sound of a new round starting echoed, his mind seemed to have changed. "... yeah?" "okay, maybe one more round won't hurt..."

― 𝓳ongseong: gets into arguments with 8 year olds.

jongseong is a good, caring, handsome and mature boyfriend, however, immatureness possesses him when playing dress to impress. just to clear things up you had asked him to play the game with you before, so nothing was new to him ― neither to you: hearing him raging about a girl talking shit about his fashion sense. i can't forget to mention that he takes this game very serious ― especially when his girlfriend has an awesome ranking.

"look at me, i look so good," "yeah... you do..." you couldn't ignore how terribly your boyfriend's makeup was done. "give me five stars, okay?" "'kay..." "baby, if this girl tells me i look terrible one more time i'll do something really bad." "babe-" " 'you look ugly'...?" he read the chat. open his microphone: "SHUT UP, YOUR FIT LOOKS LIKE A TRASH BAG AND A PIECE OF SHIT JUST HAD A BABY," "JAY! she's a kid!" "and i am eating with this outfit- tha-that's how you guys say right? eat and all...?" "yes, you ate that outfit up babe."

― 𝓳aeyun: you have to be patient.

don't get me wrong, jaeyun is good at games, however, not in this one specifically. it took him about two days just to learn how to walk on roblox's games and how to jump, etc. imagine when you introduced this fashion game which you have time to dress yourself up, oh boy, he was confused. if learning the basics from controlling your avatar on roblox took him days, it took jaeyun a week to understand how to put on items, take them off, where you choose your hair and face... well, it was a pain, but he was able to get through it and play it almost normally.

"babe, why you're skin is grey?" "i didn't know where to change it," shrugs then tries to pose. "oh my god, babe, i showed you where a minute ago!" "okay, chill...! where do i pose though?" "oh my god, jaeyun..."

― 𝓼unghoon: has lots of difficulties but doesn't give up.

sunghoon is like a mix of heeseung and jake, which means he gets addicted, angry but can't stop playing and still has to be handled with patience and love. with that being said, be prepared to hear a bunch of questions and him leaving and then joining your server a few many times. also! can't forget that sunghoon is still a english learner, so the themes might be misunderstood by him sometimes heh... (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

"y/n~" he whines. "i'm done with this game!" leaves "babe, the theme was baggy and you literally dresses up as a trash bag..." "baggy means... bag? what did i do wrong?" "baggy is a style, not a trash bag," "should've told me earlier, y/n!" "hoonie-" "now everyone on the server thinks i am stupid! let's change server, join me now."

― 𝓼unoo: is the one who places first.

sunoo is undeniably the best dressed on the game among the members, usually winning against you. he has almost all the poses, knows how to layer and is always creative, even reaching top model before you.

"baby, can we play dress to impress together? i'm so close to reach top model." "yeah, su- WAIT! TOP MODEL?!" ― ooohhh, i might have forgotten to mention... sunoo plays dress to impress without you sometimes. "baby, just join me 'kay?" "sunshine, explain me how'd you reach top model before me? i play more than you do," "uh... i surely play more than you do, but okay," "wait, wha-" "babyyyy just join my server, i want you to celebrate this with me, alright?" "okay..." your heart softened when you realised he wanted you to be part of his reaching. "can we duo?" you asked. "we can, but just once; i would much rather vote you five (5) stars."

― 𝓳ungwon: jungwon.exe stopped working.

jungwon is like jake and oh gosh why i feel like every single one of them is a bit like him?!?! anyway, jungwon would be more than happy to join you, but has already told you that his skills might not really show up in this dressing game ― discreetly admitting that he doesn't know how to play it. he actually heard about the game because the other members seem to enjoy it. still, it's just not his cup of tea. however, since you were so excited about him playing with you, sigh, he might make this sacrifice ― in which he slowly gets very excited as well.

"wonnie, baby, why are you posing? you have to dress up before the times is up!" you warned him after spotting him on the game. "huh? it doesn't make sense, we have to dress up? where?" "there, baby," you gently took the ipad out of his hands and guided him to the changing booth. "oh... but is too far away from my spawn and why do i walk slower than that girl?" "because she bought a walk faster pack, now dress up wonnie, hurry up...!" "i want to buy that, how do i buy her pack?" "jungwon, dress up now, you have literally one minute." you spoke between your teeth. "okay, okay... y/n, where do i get the items though?" "jungwon..."

― 𝓻iki: it's that annoying giggly kid who doesn't follow the theme.

if you ever played dress to impress you probably came across to one of those annoying players who never follows the theme, with that, you might refuse to believe riki is this type of player; but trust me, he surely is. and why? because he doesn't take the game that seriously, doing whatever he wants and trolling people ― making them believe he's gonna gift them vip or one of the other packs.

"RIKI? HOW'D YOU PLACED FIRST?" "i'm just too good, i guess," your boyfriend shrugged, but you couldn't believe him. "you're lying." "are you saying i am not good at this game?" "..." "y/n," he would call you after suddenly bursting out of laughter. "what?" your annoyed tone of voice echoed and it sounded like his favourite music to his ears. "wanna know how i placed first?" riki looks up at you, hiding just half of his face with his ipad. "mhm..." you hummed, confirming. "i tricked a few girls saying that i would gift them vip if they voted me five (5) stars," he giggled, knowing you were about to get angry at him. "RIKI! you can't do that, imagine if that was me..." you pouted. "oh, yeah? i should've done worse then." "RIKI!" "OKAY! SORRY, enough of riki now, okay? i am baby, not riki..."

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

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a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[carmenlire]

today's semantic error thoughts: one day sangwoo and jaeyoung go to the park and they're just walking around talking with the coffee they stopped to get when a little kid comes running up to them crying. sangwoo immediately gets down on one knee to talk to them at their level and jaeyoung is surprised at just how good sangwoo is with the kid.

the kid can't find his mom and he's scared and jaeyoung just watches as sangwoo gently wipes the tears from the boy's eyes and calms him down by being logical and explaining exactly what they're going to do to find his eomma.

once the kid is calm, sangwoo stands up and the boy immediately reaches for his hand and sangwoo doesn't hesitate or seem uncomfortable at all letting the little boy hold his hand as they start looking for her.

sangwoo asks a steady stream of questions that are a mix of practical and distraction-- what was your mom wearing? your shirt has batman on it, is that your favorite superhero?-- and jaeyoung just watches the scene in front of him feeling like his heart is about to burst from the onslaught of love and pride right now.

eventually the boy looks back at jaeyoung and tugs on Sangwoo's hand to ask who the ahjussi is. while Jaeyoung splutters-- aish, this kid, he's a hyung-- sangwoo just says that's Jang Jaeyoung and he's my boyfriend. the kid just nods and says "your boyfriend is too tall."

sangwoo swings their hands a little and looks down at the kid, nodding with a frown. "you're right, huh? he really is too tall-- what is he trying to be, a giraffe?" and the kid laughs while Jaeyoung's mouth drops open in affront.

finally, the mom comes racing over-- the office called and she turned away to answer for one minute-- and she profusely thanks sangwoo and jaeyoung. the kid goes to his mom and hugs her and sangwoo and jaeyoung turn to continue their walk.

they make it a few yards before the sound of running feet grabs their attention. they turn around just in time for the little boy to barrel into Sangwoo's legs, hugging them tight. as soon as he can, sangwoo crouches down so they're at eye level.

his face is serious for a moment before jaeyoung watches a smile softens his features. sangwoo straightens up the boy's jacket as he tells him to be more aware of his surroundings and his caretaker in the future.

the little boy nods seriously before leaning in again to wrap his arms around Sangwoo's neck. "thank you hyung," the boy whispers.

sangwoo returns the hug for a moment before releasing the kid and telling him to get back to his eomma.

when sangwoo stands up again, jaeyoung slings an arm over his shoulders and pulls him to his side, kissing the top of his head.

their conversation shifts to sangwoo being good with kids and jaeyoung attentively listens as sangwoo explains kids are easy because their motives are pure and they don't hide what they're feeling. they talk about the possibility of their own kids some time in the future and both feel content knowing they're on the same page.

later that night, though, when sangwoo asks jaeyoung to get something from the top cupboard, he rolls his eyes as his boyfriend crosses his arms and says, "good thing you're dating a giraffe after all, hm?"

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 3 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments on the couch

warnings (TW): mdni, contains mature/suggestive content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

tags: mature/suggestive content (in act iii), fluff, early relationship described, pining, affection

notes: please note that there is heavily implied/suggestive/mature content in act iii of this posting (after the second break)- if you do not wish to interact with this type of content i swear to you you can completely skip it if you like, i attempt to not tie TOO much significance to the written scene- and if you would prefer that the postings stray away from this kind of content i will attempt to better balance it in the future! i am in no shape or form a very “smutty” writer (mainly bc i have never written it), so i hope the scene isnt like… terrible ya know lol (also i don’t consider it much for “smut”- i am def using said word very loosly). annnnyyywayyys hope you enjoy and as always my dms are open for suggestions in the future and general conversation and encouragement! enjoy!

also to note! I believe the story is best read in order- i put certain dependences on certain words and bring descriptions back to really solidify the importance of certain scenes/interactions ! but completely up to you, lol

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked the up to date masterlist for this series- thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

| masterlist | part iv |

She had caught him sleeping on the couch in the early heat of June. 

They had a late night on the couch, discussing Ford’s margin notes and rewatching The Price is Wrong. Stan had a certain affinity for price matching, and she was more than a little stunned to learn of it the first couple of months they resided in the shack together. 

She just didn’t expect this 30-year-old man to know the price of most common household appliances. 

After his divulgence last month, in which he had confided a little bit of his background in sales, she began to piece together that although Stan considered himself a conman in every way but words, she considered it pure brilliance. 

So she quickly got used to late-night T.V. shows, as they discussed next steps back and forth, with Stan interrupting conversations to yell out extremely accurate prices at the small box T.V. in front of the couch. It had grown on her, actually, and had turned rather… endearing. 

If not also incredibly hilarious, as he was so passionate about his own accuracy he usually forgot his volume, and sometimes took to ranting at her. 

“Hun! Hun! This is a load of malarkey I tell ya! That vacuum price is way too high! It don’t even come with added nozzle attachments!” 

She would laugh, and he would revel in making her do so. 

They had concluded the night in a similar fashion, and she had stumbled up to her bedroom. The first one on the right from the stairs. But he had lingered in the living room, muttering about tidying up some soda cans and taking the trash out quickly. 

She had shrugged it off, giving her goodnight, and made her way up the stairs. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn’t heard the usual meandering steps of Stan as he made for his own room across the hall from her. 

She almost never woke up before him, another thing that surprised her. She figured he was the type to doze in and out in the early morning, but he seemed to be quick to rise and even quicker to make a pot of coffee, usually stumbling down the stairs thirty minutes before she could manage to roll out of bed. 

So she thought it odd to look down the stairs and not see the usual kitchen light on, and the usual grumble of the shitty coffee machine either. 

She found him snoring on his back, the throw blanket she had brought with her half on half off him. It had grown a little muggy in the shack, due to the distinct lack of central air, but Stan’s solution seemed to be very simple. 

Just wear less clothes. 

Something that wouldn’t disturb her in the slightest, if it were not for, well… Stan. 

She was a scientist, a usual logical thinker, and only slightly prude (due to her upbringing), but she was no idiot, and she knew the man she was cohabitating with was attractive. 

I mean, he was also funny- made her laugh more times than she could count. He was oddly sincere for his age and even more oddly protective. He was flippantly affectionate and even more flippantly kind to her. 

And he was also shirtless. 

Something she takes note of instantly, instinctually. Whipping her head to make for the kitchen, and trying to forget the curve of his broad shoulders and the slight swell of his stomach. The smattering of dark hair on his chest all the way down to the crisp edge of the boxers she had folded two days ago. 

Coffee, coffee coffee! 

She didn’t make as good of a cup as he did, she had never had to before. Something he scoffed at, but quickly took to doing himself. He made it every morning, now. Always up before her, with her mug waiting for her by her worn kitchen chair. 

She turned to the stove instead, moving pans and turning on the burner. She’d make breakfast for them instead of her shitty burnt coffee special. Pulling eggs and bacon out of the small fridge she went to work. 

The smell woke him up, and she noted his groggy fumbling to redress himself. Glancing out the archway from kitchen to living room she watched him pass to the stairs, still shirtless. He takes the stairs two at a time, back up to his room to retrieve new clothes she presumed. 

He returns in minutes, in typical fashion it took him not too long to get ready in the morning. 

He walks in, still stretching, with hair muddled from sleep. A pair of work jeans that had seen a lot of love in the past month, and a shirt that was quickly growing too tight around his arms and shoulders. She decided to ignore that sliver of stomach that peaked out when he raised his arms a little too high, otherwise, the bacon would burn. 

He made his way to the coffee machine, beginning the usual morning routine as it spurred to life. Moving to the sink he began washing their shared mugs. 

Breakfast was always a little quiet like they both couldn’t be bothered to open their mouths beyond sating their appetite. They still moved the same, instinctually and without words. Falling into their unassigned assigned seats, Stan moving to grab her feet and drag them across his lap, while she moved the salt and pepper between them both. She always reached across to his plate, grabbing his toast to butter first and then moving to her own. 

She had decided to interrupt their usual silence this morning, looking across to Stan as he fumbled with the morning paper. He always went straight to the comics in the morning, hoping to pick up on a joke to read to her that day, hoping to make her laugh first before anything else in the morning. 

But she had thrown a wrench in his usual plan (that she still hadn’t picked up on yet). 

“Why were you on the couch?” She asked, biting around her toast. 

“It’s cooler down here hun.” 

“I know heat rises Stan, but the sun rises on my side of the house in the morning. It ain’t that hot upstairs yet. Is there something wrong with your bed?” 

When first rearranging rooms he had resolved to take Stanford's old one. He didn’t want her to have to live in the shell his brother had left behind. His more intimate nick-nacks and sticky notes had been scattered around what is now Stan’s room. Along with his random mismatched socks and sweater vests, and his cologne. And he didn’t want to think about having her live around the last remnants of Stanford, because she got this weird look in her eyes already when she retraced his brother's writings and he couldn’t stand it. He had lived with Stanford for eighteen years, and sometimes entering the room was at least therapeutic. 

Except Stanford always had a weird affinity for sleeping on the ground. 

It’s the main reason Stanley even had the top bunk during their preteen years to begin with, because Stanford would find himself stiff on the floor most mornings. His brother had a tendency to doze away on any hard surface he could rest his head on, starting at his desk most nights, moving to his bed, but usually rolling off it in favor of the floor. Stanford was… not one for restful sleep. And his hard ass mattress showed it. 

“Ya.” Stan muttered behind the newspaper. “‘Ford trying to fuck my back up from another dimension.” 

“You can have my bed?” She offered up her own mattress, one she had splurged on with her own money. He still remembers her playing Goldilocks that day at the flash mattress sale she had circled in the classifieds the week before. 

He shook his head at the memory, them both laying side by side on each bed as she had discussed odds and ends. She had argued that she needed approximately 5 minutes on each mattress to sink into each, and that she couldn’t be intrinsically thinking about her comfort when doing so. So she had him lay beside her and talk to her, as she flipped from her back to her side testing out her comfort and considered the gravelness of his voice. Until she had landed on the right bed, the tenth one, declaring it her perfect match as she looked over at him beside her. 

“Nah, I can’t take your perfect match, hun, your one true love.” He joked, folding up the newspaper with the comics up, setting it aside in favor of looking at her. “Besides my bed is fine for now. I just… sometimes I like being close to the door.” 

She hummed. “I can rearrange the living room today? Do you want to move your bed downstairs?” She hadn’t even questioned it, still searching for something to sate his comfort. 

He laughed at this, he would never let her rearrange things without him and she knew it. He had hovered something harsh those first three months, moving around most things for her as she pointed from object to object. 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I just, I ain’t used to sleeping in a room without a straight way out of it yet.” He admits, munching on his bacon, shrugging like he was discussing the weather. “So sometimes I just, sleep on the couch. No big deal.” 

She sits back in her seat, shock marring her face. He had spent so long hopping from place to place she had forgotten he hadn’t had a place to call home in a decade- besides his car. Something that may have four walls, but had no heart. 

Hotels, to cars, to floors of shelters, he had slept in questionable places for far too long, and in some cases Stanford’s room sometimes felt like a new prison, or at least reminded him of a certain Colombian one. Except this one contained taunting memories and a stupid amount of sweaters. 

It hurt more, to open his door to find hers closed, for some reason. He didn’t like the thought of her trapped either, nestled in a part of the house he couldn’t get to. But he didn’t know how to voice this to her without sounding mad in a way. Or obsessive maybe. 

She digs her toes into the junction of his ribs, grabbing his attention. She’s smiling across from him, and standing before he can ask why. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him up the stairs to their own parallel doors, not even hesitating to walk through the door Stanford used to call his own. 

She’s muttering under her breath as he stands in the doorway, landlocked by witnessing her in this exact space for some reason. She moves to the window, opening it all the way and fumbling with the screen. She gets it off and makes to climb out the window before he can protest. 

“If you want a way out, you got it right here!” She grunts, footing her way through to the shingled roof, his protests falling on deaf ears. 

“Get the fuck back in here!” He leans out, making to grab her. “Ain’t no way this shack's roof is any good!” 

She prances around, slightly mocking him by moving away from his waving arm. “Stan! It’s fine!” She laughs, the sun shining on her figure. Suddenly serious she stops, hands on her hips. “Seriously, if you need a way out, keep the window open, okay?” 

She crawls back through the window a moment later, using Stan’s hand as a weight as she balances back on the wooden floor. 

Still serious, she continues, “Stan if you need to keep the window open, you can keep the door open also if you feel like it.” 

She smiles like she has a brilliant idea, moving across the hall she opens her own room to display her own mess of things. “I can keep mine open also if it helps.” 

How the fuck had she read his mind? He was continually dumbfounded by her unquantifiable amounts of patience she had for him. Like it was a reserve she tapped into, to specifically deal with all his dumb bullshit. He would let it pile in the back of his head, but she’d reach back in and shake him awake, present him with a solution, and he forgets himself in his need to question “why?”. 

He had taken too long to respond, and she stands in the hall, hands wringing her too large t-shirt and looking surprisingly bashful. “Is this okay?” She asks, is this what you need? Vying for his approval as she continues. “Because really I don’t mind you sleeping on the couch, I really don’t, you can keep doing it if you like! Really! I just… I just…” 

Unspoken between them, he already knew. She meant well, she meant the best actually. She wanted him to be comfortable, here, with her. Wanted him to stop moving from place to place in the house because no where felt right because it all felt like a trap. Wanted him to know the four walls they shared could never be a prison, and that she didn’t want him to hop around anymore searching and clawing his way out of it. To not have to Goldilocks around the house, because across the hall from her had to be just right. 

And it was. Because she had read his mind as usual, and he was almost tired of being absolutely astounded by it. 

He nodded, smiling across from her, his confirmation in the squeeze he gave her hand as he reached for her again, and in the ruffling of her hair he gave her as he slipped from the house later. Making his way outside to his work, somehow lighter than usual.

They ended up on the couch most weekends, or at least most Saturday nights. 

She had insisted, against his better nature, that it was not appropriate to drink yourself into a stupor on a weekday. So he had gotten used to the shared moments on the weekend, routinely looking forward to shitty VHS movies and even shittier boxed wine and beer. 

She laughed at fucking everything when she was drunk. He almost wondered if she had ever been high, or if she even needed to be. He might as well be a stand up comedian most weekends, because if he thought he had a great audience Monday through Friday, well he had an even more endearing one on the weekends. 

It was a hot July night, and she had scoffed at his light beer that resided in the back of the fridge. Tisking at him as she danced around the kitchen, pouring sweet red wine into mugs (their only cups), and shooing him back to the couch. Only wine in the summer, only wine when it was this hot.

And it was hot, and humid, unsurprising for Oregon really. So hot in fact, that she had decided pjs were appropriate attire for the night, luckily for him. So he shed his jeans in favor of loose boxers and a well worn shirt. Unluckily for him, she had decided upon much the same wardrobe, which was odd for her and only uncomfortable for sober him. 

But he wasn’t sober anymore, and he had to admit she was rather enchanting hunched over on the couch, laughing at his shitty jokes with one of his old band t-shirts on, shorts that she made no indication of even owning, bagging up around the tops of her thighs. 

He had been intoxicated on numerous amounts of things, nothing, of course, too hard or addictive per say, but it’d be the first time he was this drunk on wine. 

And it was… different. 

He had scoffed at the movie she chose originally tonight. She always chose the second movie, and he chose the first. They had a habit of in depth discussing during films, especially when more intoxicated. 

But he had never been so incredibly invested in a romantic comedy in his entire life, he blamed his company and the alcohol. 

“I can’t believe that he thinks he stands a chance with the likes of her! She’s sacrificed so much! Her jobs on the line here and he won’t even consider marrying her for a green card!” He yelled, just about jumping at the screen. This man in the movie was ridiculous, demanding things from his assistant and throwing her away the next. 

She ran back into the room, mugs full with their next round. She had become the bartender tonight, waiting on him and grabbing snacks when he’d ask in exchange for rubbing her aching shoulders. 

“What did I miss!” She rushed back, handing him his mug and taking her seat back in front of him on the floor, her throw blanket being used as a cushion. 

He takes a sip, setting the mug aside her own on the floor and moving back to place his hands on her tense shoulders. 

“She’s being kicked out of the country right in front of her boss and he ain’t gonna do anything about it! She basically does everything for this man, why doesn’t he see he needs her?” 

She groans below him, her head rocking back as she takes her own drink. “Are we gonna discuss the intricates of them having a relationship though? I love marriage of convenience, don’t get me wrong, but that’s her boss! Isn’t there a weird power dynamic here?” 

“Oh ya!” He agrees, nodding along as his fingers began to dig into her muscles. “We gotta talk about that because if this gets creepy we gotta pick out a different one. He’s already pissing me off!” 

She looks up at him, eyes glowing with an idea. Enchanted, she moves away from him, crawling to the cabinet beside the T.V., and he really swears that he tries to look away. But he also reasons that it’ll be a while before he gets the chance to see her in shorts again. And fuck. 

She turns back, a new VHS in hand. “This!” She exclaims. “Now this is my favorite rom-com!” 

A shitty picture is well worn on the front of the movie sleeve, a VHS he doesn’t recognize from the donation bin sitting in her hands. She must have brought it with her, and she must have had it for a while. 

She crawls forward, movie in hand and a bright, flushed smile on her face. 

“Please, please, please Stanley! This one!” She all but yelled as she leaned up into him. His legs had already been parted to accommodate her sitting in front of him, but now were warm with her torso between them, as she crawled into his lap, movie still in hand and smile still on her face. She leaned up onto his chest, a fake pout on her lips as she looked up at him. 

He forgot himself for a minute, excusing her silently for calling him Stanley in her drunken plee. His hand finding her waist as he answered. 

“Okay, okay!” He snorted. “Better be a better love interest because this guy sucks.” 

He missed her as soon as she left, but his heart still felt something sick when she yelled victoriously on the ground, hand raised in celebration, movie clutched to her chest. Rolling from her current position to the VHS player and popping out the current horrendous movie. All the while she giggled, and he followed in much the same manner. Laughing while running his hand through his hair, trying to soothe himself to forget her warmth. 

She crawled back to him (fuck) settling back into his knees from her position on the ground. The title screen flashed, but he was much too busy watching it illuminate her face. Heart sick again when she leaned her head all the way back, hair across his knees and thighs, she smiles up at him, a thank you on her lips. Clutching his mug in her hands, bringing it to her lips for a sip before passing it up to him too. 

And when he carried her to bed that night he wondered when the tight sickness would leave him. He never closed either of their doors. 

It didn’t happen like this, that night. 

Not from what he could remember anyway, but he felt too groggy to care about accuracy and too intoxicated by the image of her to care much for what was right. 

Her hands had continued up his thighs from her place knelt in front of him, his back hot against the living room couch. She had climbed up on top of him, creeping up to sit on his knees and thighs like she had been there before. Her smile turned sweet into something twisted as she leaned in close to his face, the closest she had ever gotten to it. Whispering something between the heat between the two of them, something lost on him, as he tried to lean closer, tried to bridge the gap between their chests, aching to feel her against the very front of him. 

He knew it was different because she had never worn this in front of him before, at least willingly. He had caught her in the middle of the night, stumbling from her open bedroom door to the bathroom down the hall, panties striped and endearing on her ass. He had seen them in the washer, had seen her fold them and tuck them away. And she was in them, sitting on his fucking lap. 

His hands made for her, reaching behind her and dragging her close, his fingers edging the back of the band of her striped panties. 

She gasps like she does when she’s happy for him, always jumping from her position on the couch cheering along with him when he gets a stupid fucking The Price is Wrong answer right. 

And it’s how he imagined it, fuck, how he was currently dreaming of her noises. In bits and pieces he could remember, his brain scrambling to paint an image of her wanting him.  

Her hands edge along the back of his head, running through his long hair, and tracing to the front along his jaw. Mouth open, her fingers glide along the bottom of his lip, teasing. 

She whispers again, closer now. Her chest heaving against his own, her ass waits precariously positioned above right where he dreamt of her being. Right along the space he places her feet every morning, right where he thought she may kill him.

He catches it this time, between them. Her voice wavering like it had that day in the car when she had apologized for calling him him. He thought of begging for it, allowing her to say his name, but she had read his mind like she always fucking managed to do. 

“Please, Stanley.” 

He had surged forward like his own tidal wave, meeting her in the hot space between them. But he could only imagine a kiss with her, dream of it here. 

He imagined it slow, and building. Imagined her hesitation and the pout of her lip between his fucking teeth, imagined her moan when he eventually came back for more. 

Her hands pulled at his fucking hair, the only time she had placed them there to harm, and he groaned as she pulled him forward, meeting again in the middle of the heat they shared there on the couch. She moaned, her hips rushing to his own, making a new heat between them. 

The friction between them was the same as the kiss, slow and building. Grinding herself in the curve of his lap, right where they both needed each other. Every pass slightly faster, every groan from her more imagined, more unreal. 

The pressure felt real though, and her fingers in his hair felt even more so. His head thrown back on the couch, he looked down his nose at her, a groan leaving his throat as she makes a home in his shoulder, as her hips cause waves against his fucking lap. 

Her breath is hot on his neck, something real, and her echoing noises move up his shoulder to his ear and it makes him hotter than he could imagine. Her groans come to a precipice, getting higher in octave and volume and she thinks to fucking bite him there, right on his shoulder. 

The image she makes shakes him, his hands remembering where they are on her ass and hips, as he makes to work them harder, to somehow bring her closer and harder to the crook of his boxers. Her teeth nestle into him, and it makes him groan more, her hot breath and aching moans reverb off his skin back to him. 

It sends him reeling forward, his own head rushing off the back of the couch, groaning in heat, moving in blind passion. His head rests against the top of her own, his big hands digging into the fat of her behind, finger creeping in through the top of her panties. 

“Fuck.” He groans between them. “Fuck, honey.” His hips canting up, her moans echoing again, her teeth unlaching, like she can’t ground herself to him anymore, because all the movement is him now. He’s fucking using her, the pressure hot, and she peels back to look at him, a heat in her eyes he can’t have imagined. He must have seen it before, marring her face. He had, he swears, seen her with this heat in her eyes before.

He was using her. 

It stops just as abruptly as it began, and he wakes to his discomfort. His room is cool despite the morning sun, the curtains by his windows billowing out with September wind. His door wide open, and his hand curled around something that no longer needed relief. 

His other hand, clutching his hair in a fist. The back of his head tender from the pressure, and his fingers heavy from sleep. 

He got up quicker than usual, his heart still pounding oddly in his chest as he attempted to catch a breath he didn’t remember losing. On his way out of his room, dresssed for the day, he peaks into her parallel room, her door wide open like it was every day now. 

He groans low, she’s wearing the fucking stripes. 

He tries not to think about it the rest of the day, tries not to be disgusted with himself, but his chest aches something odd and his stride is somehow uneven for the rest of the day. His heart carries something sickly when he sees her that day, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt he’s oddly quiet that day, or that he doesn’t read her the morning comics like usual. 

She thinks it has something to do with how flushed he is, when she catches his staring that evening, as they sit beside each other on the couch, T.V. echoing in the background.

[lxvsiick]

I NAMED A FISH AFTER YOU | KIM LEEHAN X READER

PAIRING: childhood best friend! kim leehan x childhood best friend! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Moving into a new neighborhood, 8 year old Y/n meets a boy who really likes fish on her way to the park.

GENRE: childhood best friends, fish, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 2.8k

A/N: a little leehan short story/imagine because i was thinking about fishes and found this picture of leehan -- he looks so cute showing off his fish charms ,, also -- i'm so tempted to publish part 1 of O U R ,, i have 15 parts in my drafts . . .

The sun was bright and warm in Busan as the eight-year-old Y/n skipped along the sidewalk of her new neighborhood. Her family had just moved in the week before, and today, she was finally free to explore. A park sat just down the street, and she could already imagine the swings and slides waiting for her. But as she approached the park, something else caught her attention.

By a small pond near the edge of the park, a boy around her age was sitting cross-legged, staring intently at the water. His messy hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care. Curious, she wandered over, crouching down next to him.

“What’re you looking at?” she asked, her voice light with interest.

Without turning his head, the boy pointed at the water. “Fishes,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Y/n tilted her head. “Fishes? What about them?”

“They’re cool,” he replied. “This one’s a bluegill, and that one over there is a pumpkinseed. See the way they swim? And if you watch them long enough, you can see how they’re different from the others. Fishes are smart. Way smarter than people think.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re kinda weird.”

“Thanks,” he said, still not looking at her. “I like fishes.”

She blinked at him, unsure what to make of the boy who would rather talk about pond creatures than, well, anything else. “Do you wanna be friends?”

He finally turned his head to look at her, his expression blank. “I’d rather be friends with fishes.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Well, you can’t be friends with fishes. They can’t talk, and they don’t have legs. So you’re stuck with me.”

The boy paused, considering her words before giving a small shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

“Good!” she said with a grin. “Now, come on. Let’s—”

Before she could finish, she shifted her weight to stand up, but her foot slipped on the muddy bank. With a yelp, she tumbled forward and splashed right into the pond, sending ripples across the water. In her panic, she grabbed onto the boy’s shirt, pulling him in after her.

There was a brief moment of chaos, water sloshing everywhere as they scrambled to their feet in the shallow water. Soaked and stunned, Y/n looked over at the boy, who wiped pond muck off his face with an exasperated sigh.

“You just became my friend, and you’re already trying to murder me,” he said, his face deadpan. “That’s why I’d rather be friends with fishes.”

She burst into laughter, even as water dripped down her face. “Sorry about that. I’m Jung Y/n, by the way.”

He shook his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Kim Donghyun. And... it’s okay.”

And just like that, with wet shoes and muddy clothes, a new friendship was born.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The soft blue glow of the tanks lit up the dim hallways of the aquarium, making everything feel like it was underwater. The sound of bubbling water and the occasional splashing filled the air as Leehan and Y/n wandered from tank to tank, their parents chatting behind them.

Leehan walked a few steps ahead, eyes wide with excitement. “Look, that one’s a lionfish!” he exclaimed, pointing at a spiny, colorful fish that floated lazily in one of the tanks.

Y/n leaned closer, her face nearly pressed against the glass. “Why’s it called a lionfish? It doesn’t look like a lion.”

“It’s because of its fins. See? They look like a lion’s mane,” Leehan explained, puffing his chest out a little. “And they’re super poisonous, so don’t touch one if you ever see it.”

She gave him a side-eye. “Why would I ever touch a fish?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, some people are weird.”

They moved to the next tank, which was filled with tiny fish darting around a coral reef. Leehan tapped the glass gently. “These are clownfish. They live in sea anemones because they’re immune to the sting.”

Y/n squinted, her nose scrunching up. “Clownfish? They don’t look like clowns.”

“They have stripes like clown costumes!” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And did you know that if the female clownfish dies, the male turns into a female?”

She blinked at him, frowning. “Wait—what?”

“Yeah, it’s true. They can change from boy to girl if they need to. Isn’t that cool?” he said, his voice full of excitement.

Y/n stared at the fish for a moment, then looked at him with a mischievous smile. “Are you gonna turn into a girl someday, Donghyunnie?”

He gave her a look, his face turning a little red. “No! I’m not a clownfish!”

She laughed, clearly enjoying teasing him. “Sure, sure.”

They continued on to the next exhibit, a massive tank filled with all kinds of fish. A shark glided by the glass, and Leehan practically jumped in place, pointing at it with wide eyes. “That’s a blacktip reef shark! They’re not dangerous to people, but they’re really fast. And sometimes they swim in really shallow water!”

Y/n watched the shark swim in lazy circles. “It’s kinda cute,” she said.

“Cute?” Leehan repeated, his face scrunched up in disbelief. “It’s a shark.”

“Yeah, but look at its little face,” she said, leaning closer to the glass. “It looks like it’s smiling.”

He shook his head. “You’re weird.”

“You like fish,” she shot back, giving him a smug grin. “That’s way weirder.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, knowing she had a point. Instead, he turned to the next tank, full of colorful jellyfish that pulsed and floated like little ghosts. His eyes widened again. “Jellyfish! These ones are called moon jellies. They don’t have brains or hearts, but they can still sting.”

Y/n tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. “No brains? Sounds like some kids in our class.”

He snorted, trying not to laugh, and moved to the next display. “Look, a blue tang! That’s what Dory from Finding Nemo is.”

“Ohh,” she said, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “I like that one! It’s pretty.”

For a moment, they both just stood there, staring at the fish as it swam through the water. The light from the tank reflected in their eyes, and Y/n leaned a little closer to Leehan.

“You really like fish, huh?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.

He nodded, his eyes still glued to the tank. “Yeah. They’re cool. They’re… peaceful.”

She smiled softly, watching him for a moment before turning back to the fish. “I think they’re pretty cool too.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The park was quiet under the soft glow of the streetlights. The swings swayed gently in the cool night breeze, their creaking the only sound breaking the silence. Y/n and Leehan sat side by side on the swings, their legs almost touching.

Y/n looked down at her feet, tracing patterns in the gravel with her sneakers. Her usually bright eyes were dim, and her shoulders slumped as she swung back and forth slowly. “I can’t believe we’re going to different high schools,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with sadness.

Leehan kept his gaze straight ahead, his own heart heavy despite his calm exterior. “Yeah, it’s... hard to believe.”

The words hung in the air, a shared understanding between them. The reality of their separation was sinking in, making the night feel colder.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “We won’t be in the same classes or see each other every day. It’s just... not going to be the same.”

He turned his head to glance at her, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll miss you too.”

She looked up, catching his eyes. “You’re not very good at showing it, you know. But I can tell you’re sad too.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “I guess I’m just trying to stay positive. It doesn’t change the fact that we’ll still be friends.”

Her face brightened slightly at his words, though the sadness didn’t entirely fade. “We will stay friends, right? We promised.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding firmly. “We’ll talk after school, text, video call, and hang out at each other’s houses. Nothing’s going to change that.”

She reached over and lightly bumped his swing with hers, a gesture of reassurance. “Yeah. We’ll make it work. No matter what.”

He nodded, his voice steady but his eyes reflecting the same sadness she felt. “We will. And besides, it’s just high school. We’ll still see each other a lot.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “I guess you’re right. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Nope,” he said, giving her a small, encouraging smile. “It’s just a new chapter. We’re still us.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the swings moving rhythmically as they each reflected on the changes ahead. The night felt less daunting with the reassurance of their friendship, their shared promises warming the chilly air.

“Hey,” Y/n said after a moment, her voice more hopeful. “Promise me you’ll keep being you, no matter what.”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost lost in the night breeze. “I promise. And you keep being you. That’s what makes us work.”

She laughed quietly, the sound mingling with the creak of the swings. “Deal.”

As they continued to swing in companionable silence, the weight of their separation felt a little lighter, buoyed by the strength of their bond and the certainty that their friendship would endure, no matter the distance.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

It was late afternoon at the small café where Leehan worked, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filling the air. The café was always busy around this time, but for now, he was on break, lounging at a table with his five closest friends.

They had been friends since high school, ever since Leehan had somehow charmed his way into their group despite his reputation for being quiet and a little… odd. Even now, sitting with them, he was half-listening to their conversation, more focused on stirring the iced coffee in front of him than joining in.

“Man, you seriously never hung out with any girls in high school,” one of his friends, Jaehyun, teased, kicking his chair lightly. “You were like, a ghost when it came to that stuff. But you expect us to believe you have this mythical childhood best friend that you keep mentioning who’s a girl?”

“Yeah, right,” another friend, Riwoo, chimed in, rolling his eyes. “If she existed, we’d have met her by now.”

The others nodded in agreement, all of them laughing as Leehan shook his head, not even bothering to defend himself. He’d told them a hundred times about Y/n, his best friend from when they were kids, but they never believed him. It didn’t help that they’d gone to different high schools and now different colleges. To his friends, she was some made-up figure—part of his weirdness.

Just as Jaehyun was about to make another joke, the bell above the café door jingled.

Leehan glanced up and his heart did a little flip. There she was—Y/n. She spotted him almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she hurried toward him, her bag bouncing against her side. Without any hesitation, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Kim Donghyun! I’ve missed you so much!” she exclaimed, her voice warm with excitement.

For a moment, he was too stunned to react. He hadn’t seen her in person for so long—after she transferred schools, they’d only texted or called, always busy with their separate lives. But now she was here, right in front of him.

He awkwardly returned the hug, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I, uh… missed you too.”

When they finally pulled apart, Y/n turned to his friends, giving them a polite nod. But her smile faded when she noticed the looks on their faces—five pairs of eyes wide, mouths open in utter disbelief.

“Wha—” Woonhak stammered. “No way.”

Jaehyun leaned closer to Leehan, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Dude… did you hire her to act like your childhood best friend?”

The other guys burst into laughter, nudging each other, clearly convinced they were onto something.

Y/n blinked at them, raising an eyebrow. “Hired me? To do what?”

“They think you’re, uh…” Leehan rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “They don’t believe you’re real.”

“Real?” she repeated, her expression shifting from confusion to mild annoyance. “I’ve known him since we were, like, eight. What’s wrong with you guys?”

Jaehyun snorted. “It’s just—you know, he’s never mentioned you before—”

“He never hangs out with girls,” Riwoo added with a smirk.

“Except his fishes,” Taesan quipped, earning laughs from the group.

Y/n crossed her arms, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. “Oh, right. You guys are the weird ones.”

Leehan looked up at her, deadpan. “Told you.”

She laughed softly, playfully ruffling his hair. “You haven’t changed at all.”

His friends exchanged stunned glances, clearly still trying to process the fact that this girl—the one they thought was made up—was real, standing right in front of them. And even more confusing, she seemed to be completely normal. Not weird at all, like they had assumed anyone associated with Leehan would be.

“Okay, okay,” Jaehyun finally said, raising his hands in surrender. “We believe you. She’s real.”

“But we still need proof,” Sungho added. “Like embarrassing childhood stories. Got any?”

Y/n grinned, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she looked at Leehan. “Oh, I’ve got stories.”

Leehan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Please don’t.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

After many embarrassing stories and saying goodbye to his friends, Leehan walks Y/n home.

The night was calm as Leehan and Y/n walked side by side, their footsteps muted on the quiet sidewalk. The soft glow of streetlights illuminated their path, casting gentle shadows as they caught up after his shift at work.

Y/n glanced at him with a warm, reflective smile. “You know, I really missed seeing you like this. It’s been too long.”

​​He looked over at her, his expression serious but soft. “I miss it too. It’s been a while.”

She smiled faintly, then turned her gaze forward, her fingers brushing against the cool evening air. “It’s strange. Even after all these years, you haven’t changed one bit. You’re still the same old Kim Donghyun I remember. But your name is different. Leehan?”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost shy. “It’s just a nickname the guys gave me. I’m still Kim Donghyun to you.”

She looked at him, a small, understanding smile on her lips. “It’s a good thing, though. You’ve made great friends and it means you’ve stayed true to yourself.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, their shoulders brushing occasionally. Y/n broke the silence, her voice laced with nostalgia. “Remember when we first met at the pond, by the park? You were so focused on those fish, and I came over and, well... I dragged you right into the water after.”

He chuckled, the memory bringing a smile to his face. “How could I forget? I was so surprised. After agreeing to become friends with you, you decide to drown me.”

She laughed softly, smacking him on the arm. “Hey, I slipped. Besides, you were always the better swimmer between the two of us.”

As they approached their houses, which were still next to each other, Leehan hesitated for a moment, his face showing a hint of awkwardness. “Hey, um, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

She looked at him curiously, her eyes sparkling with interest. “What is it?”

“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I’ve been keeping a fish in my room. I named it after you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and amusement. “Really? That’s... actually really sweet.”

He nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been missing you a lot, and naming the fish after you seemed like a good way to keep you close.”

Y/n puts a teasing smile on. “Awww, you missed me that much, Kim Donghyun.”

Leehan rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. They reached her front door, they stood for a moment. Y/n opened her front door, and as she stepped inside, she looked back at him with a playful smile. “Goodnight, Leehan. See you on campus tomorrow.”

“Goodnight-wait, what?”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[steveshairychest]

At exactly 9pm every night, Steve's upstairs neighbour plays his guitar just as Steve is falling asleep. It wouldn't bother Steve if it was a sweet acoustic guitar, he's sure that sound would lull him to sleep, but it's not. It's an electric guitar that screams into the night for at least 3 hours. Sure, whoever it is, is really fucking good but he's causing Steve to lose sleep and it's been going on for weeks now.

It's the night before his big medical exam that Steve decides enough is enough. He needs some fucking sleep. He doesn't even bother putting a shirt on or changing out of his pyjama pants because he really wants the 40 year old man that no doubt lives above him to know just how sleep deprived he is. Steve thinks about knocking politely but decides to bang his fist on the door instead.

Instead of the bearded old retired rock star Steve was expecting to answer the door, a young dude with crazy curls and pouty lips pulls open the door. He's also wearing pyjamas, so Steve doesn't feel too out of place.

The way the guy openly looks Steve up and down causes him to shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Can I help you?" He drawls and leans against his door frame. Steve eyes are drawn to the tattoos that cover his arms and legs, and it takes the guy clearing his throat for Steve to remember he came here with a mission, not to oggle his apparently hot upstairs neighbour.

Steve folds his arms across his bare chest, trying to hide himself from the guys burning stare. "Uh, yeah, your guitar is really loud, like crazy loud. You play it at the exact time I go to bed every night. Could you maybe turn it down? I live directly below you." He awkwardly points at the floor and shrugs.

The guy, to Steve's shock, seems genuinely sorry when he pushes off the door frame with a soft frown pulling at his lips. "Shit, really? I'm so sorry, man. I'm used to the noise, so I kind of forget how loud it really is." He pulls a piece of hair in front of his face and then quickly drops it, a look of disbelief taking over his face. "I've been working on this song for weeks! Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

An embarrassed flush creeps onto Steve's cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. "I thought you were going to be some scary old metalhead, so I kept chickening out." Steve realises how ridiculous that sounds. He should have just come up the first night it happened.

He laughs, and Steve is mesmerised by the way the laugh causes his whole face to light up and his nose to scrunch. He looks so different, so soft. He leans against the door frame again and gestures to himself. "I'm a metalhead. Are you saying I'm not scary?"

Steve snorts. "Your garfield pyjamas are absolutely terrifying."

He glances down at his pants and t-shirt and curses softly under his breath. "I forgot to put my scary pyjamas on."

Steve's face hurts from smiling so much. This isn't how he expected this encounter to go and he's so glad Robin called him and gave him the courage to actually do it. He would never have met the sweet metalhead upstairs if it wasn't for his best friend bribing him with free food in the morning.

Shit, he's got an exam in the morning.

"I've got an exam tomorrow, so I've gotta go. Thanks for being so understanding and not super scary." Steve gives him his best smile and turns to leave, but a hand shoots out to gently stop him. His hand is cold and rough and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to shiver as he turns back around. "Yes?"

"Would you maybe, uh, like to come to my gig on Saturday? I'm going to play the song that's been keeping you up for the first time." He chews nervously on his bottom lip and hovers in his own doorway, almost like he'll slam the door if Steve reacts negatively to the offer. He grabs something from a small table just inside his door and holds it out to Steve; it's a flyer. "We play at 8."

Steve takes the flyer from his slightly shaky hands and briefly skims it, pretends to think about his answer even though he's already mentally deciding an outfit for the show. "I think I can make it. You have to buy me a drink to make up for all the nights you've kept me awake."

He beams and nods enthusiastically, his hair bouncing. "Yeah, yeah, of course! I'll see you on Saturday then. Oh, I'm Eddie, by the way."

"Steve." They shake hands briefly; the size of Eddie's hands causes Steve's brain to short circuit. This whole interaction has been so surreal. Was Satuday a date? A hangout? Who knows? He's just excited that he'll get to see Eddie again.

"I'll see you on Saturday." Steve says with a shy smile before waving and heading back towards the stairs down to his floor.

"Night, Steve." Eddie calls out.

"Night, Eddie."

For the first time in weeks, the apartment above him is silent when he crawls into bed, but instead of falling asleep like he planned, Steve lies awake trying to figure out what on earth he is going to wear to a metal gig 5 days away.

[nouvxllev]

hey! can i get something like... Vada cavell x Fem reader? R is in a bar playing pool but she is terrible at it. Vada is enchanted by R and approaches her but R doesn't pay much attention to Vada. Vada then makes a bet that if she wins the pool match against R, she will get a kiss.

you can make the ending with R liking Vada and going home with her. smut if you want and g!p if u want

first fuck

Pairing: G!p!Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!

Words: 4.0k (was not expecting this is THAT long)

Warnings: smut. i think thats painfully obvious. but also a little fluff, bottomvadabottomvadabottomvadaholyshit, i love a confident to awkward little guy vada cavell

a/n: thank you for your request anon!! much appreciated, hope ive fulfilled it

masterlist.

Vada wasn't what you'd call someone who's great at pool, 8ball, or billiards, whatever you'd call it.

She'd boast about being 'somewhat decent' at the game even though her skills barely lined between the basics and knowing nothing at all.

She manages to win a few games here and there, but she doesn't really think winning a game against her 11 year old sister would be much of a win situation.

You on the other hand, the prettiest girl that Vada was definitely not watching for the past 20 minutes trying to pocket atleast one ball, basics were definitely not your thing. Or maybe you just skimmed it all and let it go through the other ear with how absolutely terrible you are playing.

Not that Vada has any room of say. But watching you focus so intensely on the cue stick only to somehow to sink the 8-ball in every match is almost adorable to her.

She couldn't tear her eyes off of you for even a second—it's suffocating.

She couldn't care less watching an idiot struggle lining up her shot for what felt like the hundredth time this evening surrounded by, seemingly, your group of friends.

Yet she could. She could say she was head over heels for you, enchanted even.

Vada, perched on top of the edge of one of the bar tables, a wry smile slowly coming up to her face as she watched you, drink in hand while she swirled it around, the ice slowly melting but her gaze on you remained frozen.

She heard how your friends cheered you on for the hundredth time, giggling while they watch you horribly fail and pocket the cue ball. They were ganging up on you quite fast, like there was some bet going around that if you win they'll probably give you 100$.

"So are you just going to keep watching that girl or are you going to come with us?" Nick creeped up, hand in hand with Mia, slightly kicking one of the legs on the chair, almost tumbling Vada down. Though she would rather die in her own hole than admit that she was someone light-weight.

Vada almost got knocked off if not for her getting a grip on the edge. "Kick my chair one more time and I will make my fall so damaging your wallet should be the one being hospitalized." She scowled, even if it looks like a pout more than anything.

"Scary." Nick rolled his eyes, almost darting his tongue at Vada if not for Mia nudging Nick, shaking her head while letting out a sigh.

"We're gonna play beer pong with the others. You coming, Vada?"

Vada hesitated for a moment, she could play pong where she was an absolute beast at, or she could stay and horribly pine for a girl she just saw like some weird stalker.

It's an easy choice.

"Mn, no thanks," she squeaked out, nodding slightly, "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up with you later," she replied, mustering a half-hearted smile before averting her gaze back to you.

The two let out a shrug, a 'suit your self' kind of shrug as they headed towards the table of those stereotypical cups you'd see in highschool parties, surrounded by her other friends. She could almost regret her decision if not for you catching her eye just for a slight second.

With a deep breath, as well downing what was left of her drink in mere seconds, she pushed herself off the edge of her seat and made her way over to your table, steeling herself for what she hoped would be a move of confidence (or maybe to fuel the lack of.)

And of course she'd regret it right away when she was already 2 steps away from you.

God, you were pretty. So, so, so pretty. Like her breathing capacity slowed down to a minimum.

Her hands made her way to that one ring on her pointer finger, fidgeting as she felt her heart pound in her chest and making its way up to her ears. She felt a flutter of nervous excitement in her stomach, like butterflies. But it wasn't just flying around, no, it was definitely eating her from the inside. In a good way.

She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual but not like that voice you'd do when it's awfully obvious you've been staring at them for a while.

"Uh," she started, or maybe stammered. What a way to go, Cavell. "Hello, do you—would you mind if I join in?" She stood at the left side opposing yours, fidgeting with her hands.

No response.

She didn't miss how her heart shot up a pitch when you glanced her way for a brief second before returning to that focus you had.

Maybe, at that point, it was Vada's cue to stop talking, but she persisted anyways, "I'm pretty good—okay maybe not that good but I do know the basics. You know, how to pocket a ball or two... is it alright if I play a game with you?" What an absolute lady charmer, Vada.

But again, no response.

It's sad how she sounded like if a man embodied a 7th grader who still used the same reduce and reuse horrible pickup lines was a 5'3 19 year old woman.

Vada bit her lip, so maybe it actually was the time to shut the fuck up. Or maybe not. Downing a glass of beer wasn't technically a way to stitch one Vada Cavells mouth up even if you tried.

So as some last-ditch effort, and something she wouldn't normally do if she had the mental capacity to stop her brain, Vada slammed a couple of $100 bills onto the pool table.

If someone were to ask where in the fuck did she get all her money from she'd probably answer that she's been waiting for this day. (Even if it was the money to pay her large amount of debt for Nick.) It was safe to say it caught all your attention.

"Could I make a bet with you?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You weren't getting a fucking thing.

Pool wasn't your strong suit, more so not your forte. Maybe agreeing to joining a game with your friends might not have been the wisest move you've done. Sure you pocketed some balls, but they were either by a long shot or the wrong ball.

When you got that invite via text, you figure you'd just join in for a while then bail when things either, a, get messy and they have to drag you in for a possible aiding and abetting crime that would mess up your whole record, or b, becoming the designated driver for your friends who'll be blacked out like a light switch.

No person who has the mental capability and their frontal lobe intact would see either options to be appealing.

The balls scattered on the table after a near perfect break, which was the only thing you were good at you noticed, and your attempts to sink them into the pockets were met with more misses than hits.

To say that your patience was wearing thin was an understatement, and you have half a mind of stabbing your friends in the eye with the cue stick.

Your friend slung her arm over your shoulder, unable to contain her laughter. "Oh, this is sad to look at. You should just give up the 100$, y/n. It's been, what, 5 rematches? That's not even counting the times you accidentally hit the wrong ball."

You roll your eyes, hearing everybody laugh around you before sighing as you tried to line up your next shot, "I'd rather die before I have a negative symbol to my name." You retorted, mustering up the confidence and that one comfortable hand position that wasn't doing you any justice.

Of course, it doesn't. It always doesn't. How was it possible that you were hitting every corner but the one you're supposed to hit!?

The others let out an empathetic little 'ooooh...' even if you knew they were tiring their asses out not to laugh at you.

"Knowing that you have a 100$ and nothing is crazy, and that's even sadder."

And that's when you heard a loud slam when you were about to make your shot, expecting it to be one of your friends' hands messing you yet again, so imagine your surprise when you looked up to find the most amount of money you've been offered your whole entire life.

You blinked, your grip loosening on the cue stick as your gaze repeatedly looked down at the money and at the girl, "Hello?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

You knew this girl was watching you ever since she walked up to the table, yet you never seemed to pay attention to her, so you hadn't taken a good look at her until now.

Oh you were fucked.

She was gorgeous.

To say that your curiosity was piqued was an understatement, it was definitely caught. Trapped, even. "A bet?" you repeated, the flicker of interest in that one word was something you needed to work on, "what kind of bet?"

She nodded, a smile coming out of her lips. A dimple. Shit.

Her gaze was locked onto yours, you didn't even notice how all your friends dipped the moment the cash was slammed onto the table. "Yeah, is that... cool with you?" she leaned against the table, you didn't even notice she was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized tee. "I'm Cavell. Vada, Cavell."

It looked hot on her more than it should've.

"We play a game of pool, think that's obvious enough," she chuckled, "If I win..." Vada paused, you could see her thinking as she stared off, "you owe me a kiss. But if you win," her fingers tapped on the bills of cash laying around, "I'll give you this. Maybe even double."

There is in no universe, no world, does the prettiest girl you have ever seen just proposed a bet with the stakes of a kiss and a couple hundred dollars in hard cash.

And it's almost concerning how you'd burn all the stacks of cash just to lose and kiss this girl. A stranger, yet she was one of those strangers who you'd absolutely go down on.

Maybe you had too much to drink when you gave a silent nod and accepted her challenge.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's only been a few minutes into the game and you're giving half a mind to throw the game all together and pull Vada into the nearest stall and makeout with her.

You'd have to remind her that it's you should be plotting the cue ball then shoot. Not wink at you with that insufferable smirk on her face, take the cue ball from your hands, and pocket her own ball.

You're pretty good yourself, you noticed. You started taking on a different approach to cue spins, and you were getting the hang of not accidentally shooting the wrong ball.

Yet your thoughts became increasingly tempting, each one more distracting than the last.

Every time she leaned over the table to line up her shot, you couldn't help but stare at the way her hair often fell in loose waves around her face, her shirt falling against her movements.

That distracting in a way you could almost gauge your eyeballs with the cue stick to remind yourself to focus and tear your gaze away from her. Quite literally.

You lined up your shot, to say that your fingers were trembling was an understatement, they were fucking palpitating at this point. You try to ignore it yet it felt like every nerve in your body was relying on this damn point in your life, like they don't have anything better to do than make your body function normally.

It would only take one solid ball to make your shot and you can get to finally shoot the 8-ball.

"Oh shit right, I didn't get your name."

Of course, Vada of all people, would only ask this question now.

Your mind goes blank for a moment. Shit, shit, shit.

"Oh, uh, it's…" you stammer, feeling like a complete idiot for forgetting your own name in front of her.

Before you could even speak, she's leaning in even closer, her perfume taking your senses, a scent that you could almost overdose in and would gladly take either heaven or hell.

"It's y/n," you finally manage to say, the rush of relief never felt more satisfying than the words leaving your lips.

The built up tension in your mind eases slightly as you meet Vada's gaze as you turn your head, her smile widening into a ray of sunshine that warms your heart. It's captivating, almost mesmerizing, and for a moment, you find yourself lost in the warmth of her gaze.

And maybe a little too captivating to the point you miss the unmistakable sound of balls clacking against eachother as they fall into the pockets, watching in disbelief as Vada pockets her last striped bal and the 8-ball all at once.

Oh, fuck me.

"Forgot to tell you that you ran out of time, y/n." Vada smirked, a full-blown shit-eating grin crossing her face.

"Oh my God." You curse under your breath, standing up slightly, even your posture looks defeated. "So not well-played." You jokingly quipped, placing down the cue stick and crossing your arms.

"You owe me something." She inched a little closer to you, her voice too fucking intoxicating for you to handle. You feel a shiver run down your spine as you step back just a slight, her head tilting upwards and a glint in her eyes that makes your heart race even faster.

"Impatient much?"

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"S-shit, wait... "

You gasped for air, stumbling into your apartment. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Vada's hands falling to your hips and desperately clutching your waist, her body rutting against yours, feeling her clothed erection grinding on your heat. Fuck, you could tell she was big.

Her arms wrapped around you, pushing you against the door in frevor with your heart pounding in your chest as her lips met yours in a heated kiss, her mouth parting to intrude yours.

A sudden surge of desire and hunger shot through you as she claimed your mouth, closing your eyes as you hear her groan inside of your mouth all while she took you breathless.

"I thought you only wanted a kiss," you managed to murmur between kisses, your head tilting to grant her even more access, "Now you take me home to your apartment?" Her touch travelled down further, cupping the swell of your ass, feeling every curve you had in an agonizing desperation.

You'd think making out with Vada in more than 10 minutes in a bathroom stall would satisfy the both of you, yet you're here. In her apartment, feeling her hardened cock bucking against you.

Vada whined, her breath warm against your skin, a smirk gracing your lips at her sound, "I want more," she almost pleaded, "I need more," she whined, "please." Her fingers traced your jawline, your eyes meeting hers that almost begged you to take her.

You nodded frantically in response, your lips parting as your hot breath hits her skin, having no trust by letting your mouth run off rather than shoving her bulging cock down your throat until it fits perfectly in your mouth, pleasing her in every way possible.

Without hesitation, you lean in and kiss every inch of her skin, feeling her abs flex under your touch while you left wet kisses in her wake as you trailed down on your knees, letting your fingers slide into the waistband of her shorts and boxers, her garments offering no purpose to hide her painful erection.

"W-wait, y/n," she stopped you, her hands hovering over yours as she looked down on you with the prettiest doe eyes ever. "I never—I never done this before."

You looked up at her, your eyebrows raised, almost having to withdraw your hands from her, "You're... serious?" It was hard to imagine someone like her never had sex, yet it spurred you on even more knowing it was her first time. Her first fuck with you.

"Well, I have," she explained, her voice slightly trembling, " Close enough. We stopped before we got to actually fucking."

"Sorry, just—" she gulped, her hands leaving yours and tangling them into your hair, "just warning you. I'm not that experienced. Well, I have watched porn—"

"Vada." You stopped her just before she could tell you more, but you couldn't deny that it was extremely adorable for her to do so, "don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."

You wink before letting her boxers hit the wooden tiled floor, her veiny and pulsing cock sprining out and slapping against her abdomen, your eyes widening at the sight of her while your mouth watered and your cunt throbbed with want, needing her cock plowing into you.

"Fuck, Vada, you're huge," you gasped, your fingers wrapping around her dick as you guided the throbbing length to your lips, her pre-cum coating your already abused mouth.

You could sense Vada smirking above you, her ego boosting by the slightest compliment, but fuck she knows she's big.

You looked up at her, your eyes glistening with the faintest hint of lust as you started stroking her dick.

Quiet moans escaped her lips, her hips repeatedly bucking against your fingers while her head was thrown back, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you took your time tracing lazy circles around her leaking tip.

Every stroke you made on her had her cock twitching, almost begging for release, whines escaping her mouth every minute, she was pleading for more yet you gave her nothing.

"God, you look so pretty like this, baby, just for me..." You panted, it was intoxicating, maddening, the way she responded to your every movement with desire written all over her, especially when you call her that. She was never much of a dominating one, you noticed.

"Y/n, please… oh, f-fuck!" She threw her head back when you sped up, hearing her labored breaths, the way she would occasionally gasp your name in a broken moan all while you looked up at her like you've done nothing, how could you not tease her just the slightest bit?

You slowed your movements to a halt, drawing out her pleasure in the most agonizing way possible, tilting your head just a slight bit, "what is it, pretty girl? Tell me."

"Wanna—shit..." she moaned, "wanna cum'n your throat, baby, please..."

"Of course, pretty girl," you chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her hardened cock while wasting no time in shoving her dick down your throat, gagging around her as you feel her erection stretch your lips as you took her deeper and deeper.

Vada's hips bucked around you, her moans growing louder and louder. Your name kept tumbling from her lips in broken moans and cries, her other hand hovering over her mouth yet it never muffled her erotic moans.

"Y/n, fuck, your mouth feels so good around my dick," she moaned, her words sending a shiver along your spine all the way to your dripping pussy.

You gagged around her pulsing length, feeling every crevice and vein inside your throat, your throat constricting as you struggled to take her size.

Spit dripped from your lips, going no where but to her balls and onto the floor as you tried to take her in.

With each thrust of her hips, each gasp of pleasure wanted you to take her in more and more.

You close her eyes, the taste of her on your tongue, the feeling of her throbbing length filling your mouth, the erotic sounds of her moans and your gagging around her dick—it was all too much, and yet not enough.

"Gonna cum, oh God, m'gonna cum..." she took a handful of your hair, trying to push you in deeper, chasing her high, "can I cum? Baby, please, I wanna cum so bad, please, pleasepleaseplease..."

You remove your mouth from her dick, hearing her groan and whine at the slightest bit of distance from your mouth and her cock, releasing it with a little pop all while you lick your lips, the faint taste of her still lingering on your tongue.

"Have a little patience, Vada," you cooed, going to your feet and taking off your undergarments, Vada's eyes immediately shooting down at your wet pussy, watching how her eyes wanted to take you all in, how she wanted to slam you against the bed and fuck you till early morning.

You let your arms stretch over her shoulders, trapping her in as you leaned in, your clit bumping with her twitching cock. "We've got all night, baby. Just wanna have you ready before you fuck me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Vada! F-fuck, m'gonna cum again... gonna cum all over your cock, oh God!"

Throwing your head back, the only sounds that filled the room where the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the sloppy and wet squelch of your pussy as you went down on Vada's cock for the 4th time this evening.

Your words were barely coherent, your hips bucking and squeezing uncontrollably against Vada's cock all while your face was red and flushed from all the orgasms you've been receiving from her and giving her, tears streaming down your face in pleasure and pain.

The only sounds that filled the room were the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the sloppy and wet squelch of your pussy as you rode Vada's cock for the fourth time this evening. Each thrust of your own body left you gasping and moaning in heaven with Vada as she stared at you with her lips parted.

Her hands found peace on your waist, guiding your body with each movement you had on her, showing Vada how to perfectly cowgirl, your ass bouncing every time you hit the base of her cock that painfully stretched you until your puffy folds got used to her size.

Your own hands found their way to her chest, feeling the delicious flex of her abs as your tight walls squeezed around her dick.

Yet, you were running out of stamina, your pace slowing down as you started to grip on her chest a bit more tighter than usual.

Of course, the ever sweetest girl, Vada Cavell, noticed this almost immediately as she cooed, "you alright, y/n?" She moaned breathlessly, her cock still sensitive from you, "we could take it slow if you want—"

"No…" you panted, going to a halt. You couldn't stop now, not when you were so close to the edge, "don't wanna… wanna cum'n your cock… please," you whined, though you weren't resuming to your natural pace of fucking yourself into her.

You collapsed onto her, feeling your eyes closing shut and your body relaxing against Vada, her scent mixed with sweat was oddly comforting all while you melted into her embrace.

Vada sighed against you, her heartbeat against yours was all she needed after a few hours. Gently rubbing your back, she kissed your shoulders, praising you everytime her soft lips landed on your skin.

"You're perfect, have I ever told you that?" She whispered, "the prettiest girl. I don't know what I would do if I didn't offer you that bet." She then chuckled, making you chuckle against her back, pulling her into a tighter embrace as you whined at the loss of her cock inside of you.

"How's that for your first fuck?"

"Better than the shit I've take. Like, way fucking better." You both laughed.

"I'll draw you a bath, 'ts just a few steps away from my bedroom anyway." Vada got up after she laid you down comfortably on her mattress that was awfully stained with your and her juices. She put on a new pair of boxers before kissing you on the forehead, smiling against your skin.

"You're the sweetest, V." You smiled dumbly, yet Vada looked at you with tenderness and fondness in her eyes, like she didn't just fuck a stranger well into late night. But, she might just be falling in love after all.

Vada laughed, a smile creeping up on her face, bringing out her dimples, "V?"

"'ts your nickname," you slurred "Don't you like it?"

She took a moment before responding with a kiss on the lips, her soft ones meeting yours, "I love it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

V: So... so are we official? Like girlfriends girlfriends, we're not just fucking around? Oh my God, don't tell me this is just a one night stand. Y: Vada, I thought that was already established when I repeatedly came around your dick yelling 'I love you.' V: Rrrrright, but what if Y: Vada, we're girlfriends. Alright?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

another a/n: been mia for probably weeks now, so sorry about that!! especially to those who have pending requests. ive been focusing on my studies recently AND i got hit with the worst cases of writers block. so thats two of them. but now since ive got maybe a free schedule, i can focus more on writing requests! thank you so so much by the way and stories might be posted a lot more late than usual. anyway,

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[chaosandmarigolds]

Coco!! Stop talking about old-

I LOVE HIM

Anyway..

Sorry but John Price, who is undoubtedly the most father coded person, would also be the coolest uncle ever to your nieces and nephews

It would be just a normal dinner with your sisters family, you going on the late summer night with your fiancé. Course you were ready for the ‘isn’t he like…dads age?��� From your sister and a few off the handle remarks from your brother in law, even the kids- Nora, 8, and Coby, 5 - would find a way to a remark. Of that you would have no doubt

And unsurprisingly the air was a bit tense right off the bat, John would press a kiss to the top of your head before Adam would whisk him away to the grill outback

You would get a few smart words from you sister as you helped her set the table

‘He’s really nice, Joan.’ Your words would fail on deaf ears.

‘Course he’s nice! He grew up in the fifties.’

…‘80’s.’

‘THATS BETTER HOW???’

Meanwhile Adam would be making small talk about military things he knew nothing about, and John would nod and smile, correcting him only if he said something utterly absurd

Nora would come over with her ball, trying to get Adam to play and he would said he couldn’t after all he’s talking to ‘Uncle John’

So she would turn to John-

“Wanna play?”

“What’s the game?”

“…run away from Coby and don’t let him have the ball.” Nora replied with a little shrug.

John looks to Adam and then back to the little girl, only to then see Coby right behind her- who promptly snatched the red plastic ball and took off running across the yard.

To that the little girl gasps and looks back up at John, figuring it a loss cause before taking off after her little brother.

‘Adam!’ You open the sliding door to step onto the patio, eyes narrowing against the summer sun and you look to him, “Joan said she’s ready-where’s John?”

Adam gave you a look, “Playing fortress with the kids.”

After wandering around for a few minutes you found the treehouse a few hundred feet away and you find him hoisting the five year old into the dumbwaiter-esk lift, Nora in the little cabin peering out the window.

“You gotta-uncle John you gotta make me go SUUUUPER high.”

“Super high? Can’t think I can lad, but I’ll get ya up to your sister.”

You watch for a minute, fully aware John knew you were there, before speaking, “Dinners ready.”

“NOOOO.”

“Auntie-Auntie can you,” Nora says from her spot, “Can you tell my mom later?”

“Aw, Nor,” you say as you catch the little boy as he jumps down from the ledge, “Your mom wants everyone to come eat.”

“But-but I’m playing.”

“Nora-“

“Lassie cmon down, we’ll finish up after yeah?” John would call out from the bottom of the ladder and somehow the stubborn little girl would relent, climbing down before happily being carried via piggy back.

All in all, for the few remarks your sister made during dinner and then the small talk that followed you would consider that a win.

Until weekend babysitting became a thing because Nora and Cody wouldn’t accept anyone else.

“We might as just have have kids, save us time on driving.” You laugh to your joke after you drop the two kids off back home. However after the long moment of silence you look to him.

“We could.”

“Yeah…yeah we could.”

“Mm, we should.”

“Agreed.”

(….idk yall I’m just yapping. Anyyyyway lemme know if you want more John price stuff)

[gothamite-rambler]

Scarecrow's new rule

Scarecrow (British accent): You're a child.

Robin (Damian): What?

Scarecrow: You are a short, kind of adorable child... Oh bleeding hell not this again. I thought he stopped using little children. Red Robin was in his teens when we last met... Right?

Batman: Yeah, he's better mentally.

Scarecrow: That bleeding great, but this young child... Nope. Batman, if it's all right with you can the kid sit this one out?

Batman (interrupting his angry son): Yep, that's fine! Robin, go to the car!

Robin: I am not an innocent child! Fight me!

Scarecrow: I can't, nope, nope. The other Robins or Batman, I'd be ready to hit you with the toxin. Not kids, go off.

Robin felt the man wearing a burlap sack to cover his head, place his hand on head and forcibly turned the child around and pushed away.

Scarecrow: Shoo, shoo.

Robin (begging): Come on, you can fight me a little.

Scarecrow: When you're older, kid.

Robin (embarrassed): Batman, make him fight me or hit me with the toxin.

Batman (exhausted parent voice): Robin, go to the car.

Robin (stamps his foot and stomps off): I'm not a baby!

Batman (to scarecrow): What changed?

Scarecrow: Eh, they're little innocent people. At this age, it feels wrong giving them intense nightmares. Until like 14 then they turn into assholes. These adventures you take them on also builds up any trauma I can use at that time.

Batman (tapping his chin): Okay, um, he's 8. 8 years old, it's going to take some time before he is 14 so don't hurt him. Okay?

Robin (overhearing the conversation): I am not 8!

Batman: Robin, get in the car or I will take your nintendo switch from you!

Robin: What- I- That's mine!

Scarecrow: I've always admired you for taking your kids out on adventures like this, don't worry I won't mess with the little tyke... For now.

Robin (begrudgingly accepting this): This is so unfair!

Robin got into the car, slammed the door shut, and sat there with his arms crossed, pouting in frustration.

Batman: I've dealt with tantrums like that with my first Robin, yet they never get easier to deal with.

Scarecrow shrugged.

Scarecrow: Kids, they're a gift and a headache.

Batman sighed, regretting that he was agreeing with freaking Scarecrow.

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor one shot where ellie calls mel mom for the first time in front of all the abbott family, maybe she gets sick at school and calls for her mom and when reader and mel show up she refuses to got with reader and they realize it’s mel she’s talking about

bestie. i got you.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Title Change

WC: ~2.65k

Every year, right around the holidays, Ellie gets sick with whatever is running rampant through the school. And every year, you absolutely dread that time. It could be just the stereotypical, run of the mill fever, but it could also be the flu, a stomach bug, strep throat, pneumonia, pink eye… the worst was right before you moved out of Utah and she ended up with croup and in the hospital overnight. You’re pretty sure you’ll never be able to get the images or sounds from that experience out of your head. Seeing your little girl down for the count is so hard for you, and it doesn’t get any easier as she gets older- she’s still the same little love bug that you remember fussing over when her temperature ran a bit too high for your liking and she would fall asleep at a moment’s notice on your chest.

This year, she gets sick without fail, although you hate to admit that neither you nor your girlfriend had picked up on it when you brought her with you to school today. Her cheeks were a bit rosy this morning as you walked into Abbott, yes- but this December has been particularly cold so far and she had insisted on running around in her t-shirt and shorts this morning despite the fact that the living room was a crisp 65 degrees this morning when you woke up. And then on top of that, you were running a bit late and didn’t get your usual parking spot close to the front of the school.

Your little girl had been adamant that she stay attached to Melissa’s hip while the three of you sat in the staff lounge before everyone else comes in, which is not an uncommon occurrence. It’s warm and peaceful until Janine comes in with cookies for her students, and inevitably one for your daughter. Ellie begs you to let her have it, and you chuckle before relenting. It turns out that was the last think she needs because she’s running circles around the shorter second grade teacher within five minutes. Thankfully though, the time comes where the child high on sugar is no longer you’re problem- she’s now her teachers problem. The two of you walk her down to her first grade classroom before the rest of the kiddos trickle in.

“Be a good girl today, little miss,” you crouch down and open your arms.

Ellie’s arms are around your neck and squeezing you tight. “I always am, Momma.”

“I know, but I’m just reminding you,” you chuckle as you kiss her forehead. It’s a bit warm, but nothing that is too alarming. You release her, and it’s your girlfriend’s turn.

“Love you, kiddo,” Melissa embraces your daughter.

“I love you too,” the seven year old sighs as she rests her head on the second grade teacher’s shoulder for a few seconds. And then she’s bouncing into her classroom and greeting her teacher with the gusto that only a little girl who had a cookie at seven in the morning could have. You and the redhead chuckle as you watch before you loop an arm around your girlfriend and walk down to your little corner of the hallway.

“Did she feel a little warm to you?” Melissa asks you quietly.

You shrug. “A little, but she was also running circles around Janine not five minutes ago.”

“I guess,” she says softly. “I just know you said she always gets sick right before the holidays, and with everything going around…”

“God,” you groan. “I’ve had five kids out at the minimum everyday this week. I’m praying to God Ellie doesn’t get sick for break.”

“Knock on wood,” Melissa sighs as she knocks against her door. “But if she does get sick, we’ll be here for her.”

“Until I get sick with it too because she insists on laying on me,” you quip quietly.

The redhead kisses your temple. “And I’ll be here to take care of you.”

“It’s still insane to me that you haven’t been sick in over ten years.”

“It’s one of the few benefits I get for being in this germ breeding ground for so long,” Melissa chuckles.

Your kiddos come in and start on their morning work, and all is fine and normal until your classroom phone starts to ring. That’s unusual. Nobody ever uses the classroom phones because your crew will just call or text your personal phone, or they’ll just make the trip down to your end of the hallway. Honestly, the only people who really use the classroom phones are… the nurses.

“Hello?” you answer, and you pray to God it’s the nurse calling about the student that you had just sent down to the nurse’s office five minutes ago. But June comes walking back into the classroom right on time to confirm that this phone call isn’t about her.

“Hey.” It’s Ellie’s teacher.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to call and ask if Ellie was feeling okay when you brought her into school today?”

You exhale a heavy breath. “She was running around the apartment this morning singing Frozen and ran circles around Janine in the lounge this morning, so I would say so. Why?”

“Poor thing’s been shivering at her desk for the last twenty minutes while we’ve been doing word work,” your coworker says quietly. “I asked her if she had a sweater with her, but she said she left it with you.”

“Send her down,” you tell the woman.

“Will do,” the first grade teacher nods into the phone. “Thanks.”

Ellie appears in your doorway a few minutes later. Your third graders immediately start cooing over how adorable she is.

“Hey, baby girl,” you smile at her from your place at the front of the room. “Come to get your sweater?”

She nods before coughing a bit. You frown a bit, the lines in your forehead etching their way into your face. You tell your students to work through the next math problem while you attend to your little girl.

As you help her pull on her sweater, you whisper to her, “You feeling okay?” You press your hand against her forehead, and then her cheeks, and then her neck. She does feel warmer than she had earlier this morning.

“Jus’ cold,” Ellie mumbles.

“Okay, baby,” you sigh softly. “Well, you tell your teacher if you aren’t feeling well, and I can always take you home, yeah?”

“I’ll be okay, Momma,” your daughter tells you. “I’m tough like… like Mel.”

You chuckle a bit before kissing her head. “Okay, sweetness. But still, if you aren’t feeling well, that’s okay.”

“M’kay, Momma,” you little girl sighs as she holds her arms out to hug you. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little one,” you whisper as you kiss her still somewhat chubby cheek. “Head on back to class, and I’ll see you at the end of the school day, okay?”

She scampers out of the room, happy to have that extra layer on. Ellie really is going back to her classroom, but as she passes Melissa’s door, she can’t help but stop in the open doorway.

Your girlfriend raises her brows at the sight of your little girl. “Hey, El. What’s going on?”

“I had to get my sweater from Momma, but then I was passing your room and I wanted to say hi,” Ellie smiles bashfully from the door. “Can I come in and give you a hug?”

“One quick one,” the redhead sighs dramatically as she opens her eyes wide. Your daughter knows she isn’t one bit annoyed with the big grin that your girlfriend is wearing. “But then you have to get back to your room.”

“I know,” the first grader says as she runs into the room and into Melissa’s arms. “Quick snuggle, and then back to Miss Smith.”

“Right. Good girl,” Melissa praises your daughter before releasing her from the hug. “I’ll see you at the end of the day, okay?”

Ellie hums her response before stretching on her toes and kissing the second grade teacher’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, El.”

“I know!” your little girl grins as she skips out of the room and heads back for her own classroom.

By the time lunch rolls around, you still haven’t heard anything from your daughter’s first grade teacher or the nurses, so you assume that Ellie really is just toughing it out until you all get home for the night.

“Hey,” you greet your girlfriend sitting her place with a kiss to the temple. “How’s your day going so far?”

“I had a little visitor today,” Melissa chuckles. “Oh?”

“Ellie came in wanting a hug after she got her sweater from you,” your girlfriend smiles. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

“Did she feel warm to you?” you ask her the same question she asked you this morning.

“I asked you that this morning,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “But yes, why?”

“Smith called asking if El was feeling well while I was teaching math and told me that she was shivering for the entirety of their word work time.”

“Poor thing’s probably getting sick,” the redhead sighs as she brings a forkful up to her mouth.

You hang your head. “Great.”

“At least it isn’t during break that she’s going to be sick,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

You nod. “I guess, but I hate seeing her like-”

“I want Mommy!” you can hear your little girl before you can see her. You raise a brow at that though- she never calls you ‘Mommy’. You’ve always been ‘Momma’, from the time that she was born. The staff room door whips open, and there is a wailing Ellie with snot running down her face as she clings to her first grade teacher’s hand. “I want Mommy!”

“Y/N, I’m so-” Miss Smith tries to get out.

You shake your head, refusing her apology- you know how your daughter can get when she’s not feeling well, and it’s quite clear to you now that Ellie is under the weather. You rush over to her and crouch down in front of her.

Melissa raises her brow, and she contemplates making her way over. But you’re always so good with your daughter, and you she figures that you have this one handled.

The rest of the Abbott crew makes their way in, sidestepping around you to get to their own spots. But of course, Ava stops in her tracks.

“Why’s your kid so snotty?”

“Ava,” you scold.

The principal shrugs and bypasses you to get to the coffee machine.

“I want Mommy!” Ellie continues to wail.

You open your arms for your sick little girl to fall into. “Momma’s right here, baby. I’m right here.”

“I want Mommy!” the child refuses and goes so far as to stomp her foot in frustration. That action is not something you would usually condone, but you let it slide just this one time. God, is she so sick she’s delirious and doesn’t realize that you’re right in front of her?

“Sweetheart, I’m right here,” you whisper and you reach out a hand to brush away a few of the hairs that are in her face. You pull your sleeve over your hand and wipe the snot away from her face. “Momma’s right here.”

“I want Mommy!” Ellie shrieks again as the tears pour down her face.

You run a hand over your face before pulling her into your arms. You lift her onto your hip and hold her as she cries, offering the rest of the staff an apologetic look for the commotion your daughter is causing. 

“Mommy’s here, baby,” you sigh softly. You take your seat back next to your girlfriend as you try to soothe your daughter enough to be able to take her through the halls to gather her things to head home for the day.

Melissa reaches a hand over and starts rubbing circles on Ellie’s back in hopes of helping to calm her down. At her touch, your little girl’s head pops up from its place on your shoulder, and she immediately reaches for the redhead.

Your girlfriend pulls Ellie into her lap and holds her, rocking her gently.

“Mommy,” the little girl whimpers as her cries and wails turn into soft sniffles.

Everyone’s eyes in the room, including your own, go wide. Melissa’s jaw drops, and she looks to you.

“What was that, baby?” you ask softly.

“I telled you and Miss Smith that I wanted Mommy,” Ellie mumbles as your girlfriend’s warm touch and gentle rocking starts to lull her to sleep. She starts to lazily play with the red curls that are within her reach as her eyes flutter shut. She’s snoring softly against Melissa’s shoulder within minutes.

The silence that has washed over the staff lounge at Ellie’s words is finally broken when the redhead asks softly, “Did she- did she call me ‘Mommy’? Am I ‘Mommy’?”

“I think she did,” Barbara smiles from her place.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers as she looks down at the little girl in her lap. “Wow.”

You also whisper your shock and surprise.

Those green eyes that you’ve fallen in love with look into yours seriously. “Are you- how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly?” you ask quietly.

She nods.

You smile softly, a bit sadly. “I wish it didn’t take her being ridiculously sick for her to call you that… but it feels so right.”

The second grade teacher takes one hand off of Ellie’s back to take your own. She squeezes it gently with tears in her eyes. 

“Sorry,” she chuckles as she wipes at her eyes. “I didn’t think I would get so emotional over this.”

You chuckle softly, as does Barbara.

“Well,” the kindergarten teacher looks to the two of you expectantly. “Little Ellie needs her Mommy and her Momma to take her home and look after her.”

You glance to your girlfriend, and she nods without hesitation.

“Even if Ava and Mr. J are our subs?” you double check.

“El needs us,” Melissa tells you firmly. “I don’t care who is with our kids as long as we’re with Ellie.”

“I’ll get everything together if you want to stay here with her?” you ask.

She nods. “You know where my sub plans are?”

“Of course I do,” you laugh softly as you stand. “Just give me like fifteen minutes, and then we can head out.”

When you return back to the staff lounge, Melissa is still holding your little girl close to her heart and humming softly while glaring at everyone else, daring them to make noise and wake the Ellie.

“Hey,” you lug your bags, your girlfriend’s bags, and your little girl’s backpack in as quietly as you can. “We’re good to go.”

She stands from her place, still managing to keep Ellie asleep on her. You’re both able to get her in the car and back into the apartment while she naps, and once the little girl is settled on the couch and still asleep, you take Melissa into the kitchen. You wrap your arms around her neck and look her in the eyes.

“I love you,” you whisper as you press your foreheads together.

“I love you too,” she tells you quietly. “And El.”

“You’re so good with her,” you tell Melissa softly. “So good.”

She hums before kissing you gently.

“How do you feel about being ‘Mommy’?” you ask your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend’s eyes well with tears again. “Like I’m on top of the world… that little girl of yours… wow.”

“That little girl of ours,” you correct her. “Ours.”

As if Ellie knows the two of you are talking about her, she whines out from her place on the couch. “Mommy! Momma!”

Motherhood never stops, and the two of you head into the living room to hold your daughter together. 

TAGS (and lmk if you wanna be added!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 

Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?” 

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 

“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 

Oh, it can get weirder. 

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 

“Why just me?” 

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 

“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 

You answered on the third ring. 

“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?” 

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 

“I want to.” 

Two people. 

Fuck, he needed to tell you. 

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 

“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?” 

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

[i-love-soc-a-very-normal-amount]

Reasons to read Six of Crows

1. Actually good representation

- all the crows have ptsd of some sort that actually affect their actions

- religion also affects their actions (eg. Inej with her saints and unwilling to kill, Matthias with djel)

- Jesper and inej are darker skinned

- wylan is gay and jesper and Nina are bi

- wylan has dyslexia that he's really ashamed of because of his father(and when he told Kaz he(Kaz) literally just shrugged!!)

- Kaz is physically disabled (his leg) and needs to use a cane

2. Nina is canonically thick and curvy but is still described as beautiful and badass

3. Again with Nina

- she does eat more than the other crows and they don't judge her for it

- when she starts to eat less bc of parem her friends panic and try to get her to eat more

- and when she starts eating again they're so fucking happy

4. All the crows have their own horrible backstory and yet none of them have ever been in a toxic relationship

5. The boundaries that characters set are actually respected (eg. Kaz with his gloves and no-touch rule)

6. It's so funny ("My ghost won't associate with your ghost", "I'm going to get someone to burn my kruge for me / you could pay someone to pay someone to burn your kruge / I'll pay someone to pay someone to pay someone to burn my kruge / you know what the really big bosses do? They pay someone to pay someone...", "MAYBE I LIKED YOUR STUPID FACE" among other examples)

7. There are such impactful and beautiful quotes ("I would come for you", "I have been made to protect you" etc)

8.

9. To elaborate with the 'horrible backstory' thing

- Inej is a victim of sex trafficking

- Wylan was nearly murdered by his father's men for not being able to read

- Matthias was brainwashed from a young age to hate Grisha

- Nina (and other Grisha) were kidnapped and abused by Matthias and his fellow drüskelle

- Jesper's mum died when he was 7 years old

- Kaz's dad died when Kaz was 9 and left him and his older brother (Jordie) to sell the farm and go to Ketterdam. Jordie died from a plague a short time later and Kaz had to use Jordie's dead, plague-ridden body to swim to shore after being mistaken as dead and loaded onto the Reapers' Barge along with Jordie and then find a way to survive with no money and no family to go to

[shanastoryteller]

Happ valentines Shana! I love your writing soooooo much! Maybe some time travel drarry? It's so much fun <3

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Finding and destroying the Gaunt ring involves grave robbing, which Harry isn't comfortable with, personally.

"It's not like we're be doing the digging ourselves," Draco says, moving dirt aside with quick flicks of his wand. He looks down at his twelve year old body and sighs. "It's not like we even can."

If Draco would help get them out of the past, they wouldn't be twelve. Or digging up a corpse. "I don't see why I have to be here for this part."

"Solidarity?" Draco offers. "Also, I was hoping you'd be the one to actually go in and get the ring."

"I am not doing that," he says firmly.

Draco frowns. "I guess I can just burn the body and take the ring from the ashes."

That seems like a great way for them to get caught. And also feels pretty disrespectful to the guy who's only fault they know of is having Voldemort as a descendant. "Can't we just summon it?"

"It's charmed against that," Draco says. "It won't even be effected by a wingardium leviosa. I suppose I could just cut off his hand-"

"Fine," Harry interrupts, wrinkling his nose. "But I'm going to complain the whole time."

He shrugs. "I don't imagine I'll notice a difference."

[thebearmage]

Hi! Could I request an one shot about Five&Wife!Reader set in S3 at the wedding, where Y/N worries about Five's drinking frenzy and takes care of him that night? Ya know, that usual drunk words are honest words, world ending stuff etc. I'm just into fluff right now 😭 Maybe Five and Y/N are mentally and physically the same age and know each other from the apocalypse to make it make sense. I loved In Their Arms! Five deserves love. If it's not something you're interested in to write don't worry💜

Put that down!!

Five Hargreeves x Wife!Reader

Summary: During Slone and Luther's wedding, Five goes all out on his drinking. You, being the responsible one, remain sober to take care of him. It goes as one would expect.

NOTE: I went for a bit more humor and angst here too, hope that's okay. Also, The Reader is a Speedster like The CW's Flash. So you can also time travel.

Also (F/C), for anyone who doesn't know, means Favorite Color.

Five and reader are both 18+

"Ah, here we go,"

You turn to look and see where Five is going. The alcohol, of course.

"Oh no," You put your face in your hands, "There goes my plans for the night,"

You and Five are happily married. You were once number 8, born with superspeed and the many different abilities that came with it.

When Five ran off that day, you had used your speed to follow him. You both traveled through time, finding it fun before Five got stuck in the future. Your time travel abilities weren't as limited as his, so you could've left. But you hadn't known if you could take Five with you, so you'd stayed. You didn't want him to be alone.

You and Five were happy together. You and Five had a daughter named Delores and lived in an abandoned library. Life was good and simple then.

Then The Handler showed up and swept you both into trauma after trauma. And then, to top it all off, when you both finally went back, you both got stuck in your 18-year-old bodies.

Now, after failing to save the world a third time, you were at Luther and Sloane's wedding watching as your husband went to get drunk.

You were not much of a drinker yourself, you never really liked the taste and HATED it when Five drank. Tonight, however, you'd let it slide, but you knew you'd have your hands full looking after him.

As the night progressed, you watched your husband slowly get more and more drunk.

You had fun though. Everyone dancing together was enjoyable and you had used the (F/C) lightning that came off your body when running to spice up the floor a bit.

You were twirling around in your dress when you heard Five's voice. You watched, trying so hard not to laugh, as his drunk-as-fuck-ass gave a moving speech to Luther.

You liked Five's singing though, you walked up to the stage and joined him. Wrapping an arm around him.

When everyone moved onto the patio, you had gone off to power your nose. So Five had gone out by himself.

When you went to find the group, half of them were gone, including Five.

"Oh no," you mumble, you stop Luther as he starts to walk Sloane inside, "Where's Five?"

Luther chuckles, "Said he was going to the buffet,"

You sigh and superspeed there, looking around. No Five. You growl and continue to run through the hotel. The (F/C) sparks and a strong breeze followed you everywhere you went.

You soon found Five wandering throughout the halls with cereal in his hands. You zip in front of him and smile.

"There you are,"

Five stumbles at the breeze you make but looks up and smiles when he sees you.

"Y/N!!" He jumps up and glomps you. You're so thankful that minor super strength is part of superspeed because if it wasn't, Five would have knocked you over.

"Hey, baby," you whisper, kissing his cheek, "What are we up to, hmm?"

Five blinks heavily a few times, looking at the cereal in his hands before shrugging, "I dunno,"

You laugh and kiss him softly, "Maybe it's time take you to bed,"

Five wriggles his eyebrows and locks his arms around your neck, "Take me to bed, huh?"

You playfully push his face away from yours, "Not like that. That's the LAST thing you need. I mean sleep, mister,"

Five whines, "Nooo, the night is still young!" He throws his arms out dramatically, "and I have plans,"

You raises your eyebrows in mock fear, "Plans?"

"Plans! Yes!" Five slurs poking your chest, "Lots and lots of plans!"

Five then stumbles over to the plant in the corner of the room, you wince as he vomits. Kneeling down next to him, and rubbing his back.

"There, there, sweetie, get it out," you urge, "It's alright,"

“With everything we discussed, it’d be folly to wait,” A voice said. You snap your head around and even Five looks curious.

The white buffalo suite door is cracked open, and you two can see Reginald, “There is no time. I can’t do this without you.”

Both you and Five press against the crack in the door, straining to see who he’s talking to. You use your speed to faze through the door, only for a moment, and see Allison.

“Do we have a deal?”

"Shit," you whisper, gently coaxing Five up, "Come on, baby, we have to go,"

"What why?" Five asked, already forgetting what just happened, "Wh-" then he wobbles "Oh shit,"

Five tips backward into your arms. You weren't prepared this time so his weight sends you both into the elevator. You grunt as you land on the hard floor, with Five completely passed out on top of you.

The doors close and you sigh. You knew Allison was unstable but this...this meant trouble. You look at Five in your lap and smile. Allison will have to wait, you have your husband to take care of.

As the doors slowly open again, you pull Five to his feet and start dragging him down the hall to your room. He wakes up half-way there are starts to protest.

"No! Please! I wanna keep going," he mumbles, you shake your head.

"You're way too drunk to do anything, my love," you say, Five shakes his own head.

"Am not!"

You look at him, "Oh really? Can you look at that clock and tell me what it says,"

"It says 'Five is not fucking drunk'" he turns around, all proud of himself. You only look at him unamused,

"Okay, bed time!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

You drag Five to the door and lock the door. He instantly blinks away.

"FIVE!"

You run out to find him running down the hall, cackling.

"You can't catch me!"

"Oh, for the love of!"

You speed up to him, only for him to blink again. You rub your temples.

"Come on, Five. You need sleep and I'm growing tired. Let's go to bed,"

Five, appearing at the end of the hallway, tilts his head in concertation, "Nah,"

"I'll snuggle you," You offer, "Just how you like it,"

"Ooh!" Five seems interested for a moment, then shakes his head, "Nah!"

He's gone once again, causing you to huff. You wounder if it was better for him to just run himself out.

You shake your head, you can't leave him. You run after him.

Soon, the entire hotel is light up with blue and (F/C) lights as you chase Five around the hotel.

You find Five pilling a bunch of mannequins into some machine and pouring soap in.

"No!" You cry, causing him to stop, "Put that down!"

Five beams and holds the soap closer,

"No! Put it down. Put it...down!"

Five pouts and drops the soap, "You're no fun sometimes, Y/N,"

Aaaannnnd there he goes. You decide to just wait it out. The next few hours you run around, following Five but no longer trying to stop his drunken antics.

Before long you find him snuggled up under the radiator in the kitchen. You smile and shake your head fondly before picking him up.

He snuggles your chest as his eyes flutter open, "Y/N?"

"Yes, my love, it's me," You shift him a bit to get a better hold on him, "I'm taking you back to our room,"

He nods and lets his arms dangle under him, "You're so amazing, you know that," he murmurs, "So...so...amazing,"

You laugh, "Thank you, baby,"

Five takes a bit of your dress in his fingers, "Is this the one I bought you?"

"Bought?" You chuckle, "You mean stole, but yes,"

Five sighs happily, resting his head on your chest and looking up at you, "You're so pretty," his smile is dreamy, "I love you so much,"

You smile and finally reach the room, you faze in and walk over to the bed, laying Five down.

His body relaxes into the mattress as he sighs in bliss. You slowly help him take off his shoes and vest before helping him change into more comfortable clothes.

"I love you," he mumbles for the 10th time, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too," you smile, quickly changing your own clothes using your speed, Five smiles.

"I love your power," he picks at his nail slightly, "It's so beautiful and powerful,"

You smile, "Yours is too," you lay down next to him, "Now sleep honey, it'll be alright,"

Five hugs you like a koala, arms around your chest, legs around your waist, "I'm so glad I get to spend my final days with you," he mumbles, "I love you,"

You kiss him softly, "I love you too, now rest,"

Five nuzzles into your chest. You smile and run a hand through his hair, listening the the noises of the kugelblitz outside.

"I wouldn't mind trying one last time," you mutter, "You're worth saving, my love,"

Five makes a noise in his sleep and you smile,

"Sweetest of dreams, Number Five," you kiss his head, "I will always be with you,"

———————❖———————

I love writing this one! It was so cute and fluffy! I tired to add some humor but idk how I did. Requests are still open so feel free to send in some more! Also, a part three to Mindless will be out soon so look for that. Thanks again for reading!