#but maybe a little teeny tiny fic ? I don't know

[leconcombrerit]

Last one and I'll stop bothering you, but here's the big outline of my interpretation :

An endless loop

The boys are stuck in a loop ; as Phee said at the end, even he, Jin and Tee had never left the house. I don't think they're dead. I just think them being dead or alive doesn't matter, because they will all circle back to the house in the woods anyway, and the loop will start again from the beginning of ep 1. Much the same as Phee didn't remember how they got out, they won't remember how they got back in. They won't remember much, actually. Events will replay the same way they had last time -and the time before, and all those beforehand for all we know. A neverending recreation of Non's first and only movie. But I think there's more.

If they die like Por, Top, Fluke, White and New, they're brought back to the loop anyway. Death isn't a get out of jail card. If they get away like Phee, Jin and Tee, they get brought back as well -but I think they keep a vague memory of the slaughter on a subconscious level. Not the flashbacks kind ; rather that feeling etched in your bones, something you don't even notice that still guides your moves and thoughts.

The masked figures

Time travel usually tends to get tricky since the very principle of a loop is that things already happened while they're happening, the masked figures would be the boys' own 'ghosts', or previous selves if you'd like. I made a post about it here, and another here about which masked figure would represent each character.

Tee's memories

Tee freaks out and refuses to consider any option other than the ghost of Non being out to get them. He feels guilty, sure, but he still seems to overreact compared with his usual behavior. Not that I had noticed much since we barely knew him at the time. Tee knows. He does't know that he knows, but he knows anyway. And he'll get rid of the ghost haunting him and protect White this time.

Just kidding. He failed again.

Phee's memories

Unlike the others, Phee breaks out of the nightmare by his own means. He doesn't cave in like Fluke, Top or even Tee ; he doesn't need saving like Jin. Phee escapes by convincing himself what he sees is entirely an hallucination, a certainty that allows him to figuratively let Non die and keep the ghost at bay (more about it here).

A ghost that can't appear if you're not scared ; if you don't believe in it at all ; if your mind isn't plagued by fear and clouded by drugs. Phee abandons Non again to save Jin and Tee, but forcing your way out isn't going to be enough to beat Non's curse. His mind being the clearest, he'd retain bits and pieces that would help him navigate the scene, as I mentioned in one of the linked posts. One of those memories would be that Non doesn't haunt them, it's all manmade. Second would be little things that allow him to make impeccable guesswork.

Phee being Phee, he probably tries his best to save as many people as he can every time. But hey, he failed again. And he loses even when he wins.

The drugs and the ghost

When I said paranormal and factual dimensions were intertwined, I mean you can't cut a clear distinction bewteen the two. It overlaps. Some events are both paranormal and material at the same time ; I think that's what happens with the hallucinations the boys get. It is due to the drugs, yet at the same time it is Non. I felt like the more you see him with a mask on, the less it's him and the more of a drug induced hallucination it is.

Those who truly see him are the ones Non feels the most strongly about. Tee, who tried his best but also sentenced him to death. Phee, who abandoned him when he needed him most. Jin is still a mystery but I'm working on it. And New, of course.

New was never cursed ; he is part of the curse

New who doesn't see his worst fear come true, but gets comforting words instead, even after breathing the gas. New who is yet stuck in this nightmarish loop like the rest of them in spite of being forgiven by the end of it.

As I stated here, he serves as an ally for Non. He's the one who makes everything possible. Non holds his hand with the red string of fate on. New will forever carry out his brother's revenge, over and over and again. I don't think it's such a bad fate for him. He has the time of his life anytime he takes one of them down after all.

Could they break free ?

Ultimately ? I wanna say no. I like it better that way. Non won't forgive them. But if you told me 'hey, let's make a season 2, those fuckers need to find a way out', well...

A classic would be that they need to all survive. Or that's at least something they could try (and by 'they' I mean Phee, he's the obvious hero). Keep Por from impaling himself on a branch, or keep Top from killing him. Find ways around New's plan. Get everyone to calm their tits when actual ghosts haunt their hallucinations. Good luck with that.

Another classic would be to get them to accept and face what they did to Non. No more 'I'm sorry's, no more 'it wasn't me'. Man up. Face your fear. Look the ghost dead in the eyes and take it all in. Tee especially would need to get a lot of work done before he inhales the fumes, and more again when he faces Non. He did kill him. Trying to repair his mistake doesn't change shit to that. He has to stab him or he'll stab White.

Phee would need to accept that it is indeed Non he's facing. He needs to accept that he let him die and that Non hated him for it. Phee desperately wants to be a good man, true to his word, strong and reliable. He wasn't any of this to Non. His final reaction is the right one ; he had to let Non die in that bathtub. He had to let him jump off the roof. But he has to do so acknowledging that it's Non.

And if they all do this, Non doesn't have power on them anymore. His vengeance becomes empty. Only New remains as a threat, robbed from his main weapon. The whole thing becomes meaningless and falls apart. I hate it because Non and New deserve their killing spree, but somehow I don't think a second season would go that route...

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fake dating 2 (mini fic)

Part one here

❤️

Now that Jason was leaving you alone it felt like there was a time limit on your "relationship" with Eddie. You're hesitant to admit that your feelings have changed after Eddie's dismissive attitude.

His words keep coming back to you whenever you think of telling him. What was the point?

There was no way you could talk to him and ruin the budding friendship that was happening between the two of you. You adored hanging out with Eddie at the trailer; his uncle Wayne was funny and really nice to you and the trailer had begun to feel like a home away from home.

You didn't want to ruin what you had by admitting your feelings and making everything super awkward and you were so busy trying to cover up your feelings that you didn't notice Eddie beginning to struggle with his...

❤️

Naturally Dustin is the first person to notice Eddie's changing feelings. Even after he took the little shrimp to the record store and Family Video.

He's watching Eddie with an amused grin on his face while browsing the horror collection.

Eddie wasn't normally a jealous person, at least there wasn't a universe where he ever thought he'd be jealous of Steve Harrington...

Okay maybe that was a teeny tiny lie. He was a little jealous that Steve seemed to have it all. Rich, good looks and the ladies loved him but it was a passing thought than anything else.

Now he couldn't quite ignore the jealousy that was raging through him.

"So that oh we don't actually have real feelings for each other comments really came back to bite you in the ass huh dude?" Dustin says sarcastically and Eddie glares at him. The little shrimp and his tone was getting worse by the day.

Dustin is patting his shoulder in a meant to be soothing manner and that irritated Eddie even more.

"Yeah. Real helpful you little butthead" he grumbles as Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He shouldn't be feeling like this but every inch of him is thrumming with envy. Without thinking Eddie walks over and slips his arms around your waist, you look at him surprised.

"Harrington. Good to see you" stop flirting with my girl you butthead he seethes, fuck. He really does want you to be his girl. The realisation is staggering to him because he's been living in denial for a while now.

And instead of admitting these feelings he panics and takes his attitude out on Steve. He feels guilty about doing it but he doesn't like the way Steve is looking at you. Doesn't he have enough chicks swooning about his good looks?

He can tell you're irritated but he's having trouble getting his annoyance under control and once Dustin has picked the movies he likes, he storms out to his van.

When you follow him out with Dustin the look on your face makes Eddie's stomach churn. Dustin shakes his head as he looks between the pair of you and climbs in the front with him.

"Are you coming?" he asks even though he really doesn't want to know the answer.

"What was that with Steve? Why did I feel like I was in the middle of some pissing contest?" he gulps and really he should just apologise but he puts his foot in his mouth. "Sorry I just feel a little nauseated what with all of Steve's flirting" he snaps and Dustin groans.

Your eyes flash with anger and you glare at him, "He's my friend Eddie. Even if he was flirting I'm not interested" this lessons the ache in Eddie's chest but he's still pissed at Steve.

"Yeah well clearly Steve is" he grumbles and the anger fades from your features.

"What does it matter? This isn't real. Our feelings and all of this shit is fake. You said it yourself" your voice cracks at the end and he stiffens. Shit. He did see that... and now you looked like you were going to cry.

"I think I'll walk home today" you tell him and rush away before he can call you back. Shit. Shit.

"You know that I admire you dude but you really can be the world's biggest dumbass at times" Dustin pipes up and he sighs.

Yeah. He definitely is.

❤️

[seventiesweetheart]

ANY PATRICK HOCKSTETTER OR VANCE HOPPER FLUFF IMAGINE PLEASE

𓆩♱𓆪 ghost boy.

obsessed! patrick hockstetter x fem! childhood best friend! reader

WARNING. none much, this is purely fluff! but patrick is a teeny tiny bit of a yandere for reader.

A/N. haven’t written in while because of school but thank you so much for the 300 likes on my rafe fic! it warms my heart seeing people repost it sm <3 anyway, i know i’m really late but hope you like this, anon! might make a vance one soon :>

the summer sun beat down on derry, its warmth failing to melt the cool indifference that patrick hockstetter felt towards the world around him. leaning against the graffitied wall of the abandoned factory, he watched the town's inhabitants with a sneer. they were all predictable, annoying, and utterly boring.

all except for y/n.

a smile tugged at his lips as he saw the girl approaching, her hair catching the light of the sun in a way that made his heart stutter. every one else perceived patrick as a mystery, just another one of henry’s best friends which fully meant he was not one to be messed with. but to y/n, he was her best friend since childhood.

"hey, patrick!" she called, her voice bright and cheerful, piercing through the monotonous hum of the town. she jogged up to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you won't believe what i found today."

he watched her intently, his gaze suddenly softening. "what is it?" he asked, his voice low and only slightly gruff.

y/n pulled out an old, worn book from her (fav color) backpack. "look at this! i found it in the library. it's full of so many creepy stories about derry. thought you might like it."

patrick took the book from her, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. he felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, but the girl was too oblivious, her attention already shifting to something else.

"thanks," he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. she was always doing things like this—thinking of him, bringing him things she knew he'd appreciate. it was part of why he liked her so much, part of why his feelings for her had morphed into something deeper, something a bit more obsessive.

y/n plopped down on the ground beside him, leaning back on her hands and tilting her face towards the sky. "it's such a nice day. why don’t we do something fun?”

patrick sat down next to her, the book clutched in his hands. he could feel the warmth radiating from her, the smell of her shampoo filling the air. "like what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he caught a whiff of her scent.

she shrugged, her smile widening. "i don't know. maybe we can explore that old house on neibolt street? i’ve heard it's haunted."

patrick's lips curved into the mischievous smirk that y/n has grown all too familiar with. "sounds like a plan," he said, loving the thrill that danced in her eyes. he'd follow her anywhere, even into the deepest parts of a haunted house. anything to keep her close—to keep her as his.

as they stood up and started walking, patrick's mind comtinued to race with thoughts of her. y/n was the only person in this town who made him feel something other than disdain. she was the light in his otherwise dark world, the only person he could never afford to lose. and though she had no idea, he was determined to keep it that way—at least, for now.

because as long as she didn't know about his little crush, she wouldn't be scared away. and patrick couldn't bear the thought of losing her, his only friend and the only person who made his life in derry so much more bearable.

[bellysoupset]

Just a small Lukebell talk that I couldn't get out of my mind, not a sickfic. This happens before the fic "Max Meets The Gang"

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

"Hey handsome," Bella leaned against the doorway of their bedroom, opening a tired smile as her husband walked in, "you're home late, I was in bed already."

"Sorry," Lucas was pouting as he shut the door with his whole weight, undoing his tie, "the stupid dinner went on for forever."

She raised her eyebrows at his tone, Lucas never complained about work. He apologized for getting tied up, yes, but complain? Never, he loved it.

"Stupid dinner, yeah?" Bella walked closer, until she was in front of him and tiptoed, cupping his cheeks. He was warm and flushed, clearly a bit tipsy, "what's gotten your panties in a twist?"

He snorted at that, turning his face so he could press a kiss to the inside of her hand, "I don't know, I just wanted to be home like six hours ago and the thing wouldn't end..." he yawned, then opened a small smile, "I'm being a whiny baby, let's go to bed. You shouldn't be waiting me up."

"You know I don't sleep that early," Bella shrugged, but allowed him to throw an arm around her shoulders and pull her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist as they waddled to the bedroom, "was your boss on your ass?"

"Nah," Luke let go of her as they entered the bedroom, starting to strip his clothes and Bella crawled back in bed, falling on her side and watching him move around. He was in a shitty mood, because normally Lucas did not make that much noise in order to get ready for bed. He was a fairly thoughtful dude and it was around midnight, not that she was too sleepy.

With a heavy sigh, he got in bed as well, kicking off the blankets and rolling so he could press his cheek to her chest, a position that had his feet sticking out from the end of the bed and Bella shaking with a chuckle. She moved her arm from under him, sinking her fingers on his dark hair and started to pet it, opening a smile as he let out an appreciative noise.

"There was a cute baby there," Lucas mumbled after a couple minutes of silence and Bella raised her eyebrows at the comment, her husband was not the type to really pay attention to kids, that would be Vince or Jonah, "curly hair like yours. I want one."

Maybe more than a bit tipsy then.

She let out a chuckle, "oh yeah? They must've been the cutest thing ever to make you say that," she squirmed slightly and Luke rolled off of her, falling on his pillow and on his side. Bella turned on hers as well, so they were nose to nose.

"Not as cute as ours would be," he wrinkled his nose and Bella let out a snort, pushing a wavy hair back and way from his eyes.

"Where are you going to put this metaphorical baby of yours, uh? The living room? This house barely fits us both, you dork," she rolled her eyes and Luke let out a heavy sigh, bumping his nose with hers.

"Then we can move to a bigger place. It makes no sense for us to be here anyway, Bell, we can afford a bigger place. Have a dog or a cat or both," he said it softly, stroking her cheek, but that didn't stop the ginger from frowning.

"You want to move?" Bella pulled back in order to look at him firmly and he hesitated for a second, before nodding.

"We outgrew this place, baby," Lucas said calmly, "a while ago, if you ask me. You know Leo calls it us roleplaying at being poor?"

Bella scoffed at that, moving away from him and sitting up against the headboard, crossing her arms to her chest and looking around the room. Realistically speaking she knew he was right. Their teeny tiny one bedroom house was a cramped place for one person, let alone two, and they had been sharing it for over a year now.

Yet... There was a little voice in her head that sounded an awful lot like his father, repeating gold-digger over and over. She chewed on her lip and startled slightly when she felt Lucas taking her hands in his, "Isa?"

"What prompted this conversation?" She asked, trying not to melt as he called her Isa, "one of your work buddies brought up where we live? What's up?"

Lucas frowned now, sobering up and sitting up, "are you implying I'm embarrassed of us?"

"Are you?" She was openly picking a fight, Bella knew it, but she couldn't help it. Kit Howard was whispering in her ear that one day Luke was going to wake up and realized he wanted better than her, that their whole romance was a phase.

"Isabella, listen to yourself," Luke rolled his eyes, sounding offended, "if I was embarrassed of us or where we live, I'd bring people around? I'd be happily living here for over a year?" he raised his eyebrows, "we're adults and we can afford a bigger place, why wouldn't we get one?"

Bella curled up, until she could hug her knees and his eyes softened at the movement, clearly realizing how insecure this conversation made her.

"Bell?"

"Over Christmas last year, when you were sick," she lowered her eyes away from his face, nervously picking at the blanket and removing imaginary lint, "your dad, he- He.." her voice trailed off and Bella shut her mouth.

Next to her, Luke let out a distraught noise, "he what? Did he say something? Did he do something?" his voice got a chilling note at the end and Bella snapped her head, shaking it from side to side. Kit Howard was a major asshole and he could be intimidating, but he hadn't touched her.

"He said you'd wake up one day and realize you could do better..." Bella mumbled, hugging herself, "and I know your dad is a jackass, but I can't help but think-"

"No," Lucas glared at her, "no. Look at me, Bella," he grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to meet, "there's no but. My dad is an asshole and what he said isn't true. Period. He's a serial cheater who neglected his wife during her illness and who capitalized on her death. He's a shitty father and the one time I let him get in my head, I lost you and that almost killed me, so no. I'm not letting him come between us ever again."

Bella nodded, quietly, "I don't wanna go back to the apartment," she almost whispered and Luke pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head.

"Then we won't," he rubbed her back, "I'll sell it, we can pick a place together... If you're alright with it?"

Instead of answering, Bella curled up closer to him, nodding, "you promise me you're never gonna turn into him? No matter how badly we fight, no matter what happens...?"

"I'll never be Kit Howard," Lucas vowed, falling back against the pillows, "doesn't matter how badly we fight."

She melted in his embrace, pressing her nose to his neck and closing her eyes, "let's start with a dog before we level up to a whole child," Bella whispered and heard Luke chuckle, squeezing her closer.

"Yeah, that's fine by me."

[whositmcwhatsit]

Glimmers of Dawn

AN: This is a belated birthday present for one of my favourite people @ellie-24. I have been promising her a BDE fic for months and this is the beginning of one at least? As our guy once said: "I hope you like it. It doesn't make much difference."

“This is crazy! Are you sure we’re allowed?” 

Steve rolled his eyes at her like he did this every day, like it was nothing. But if it was nothing, he would not have suggested it. 

_______________________________________________________

Aurora had been sliding on her denim jacket at the bar, ready to go home to Johnny Carson and the dried out meatloaf that her mother had been cooking when she had ducked home after work to change. She had already given in to Joanne’s plea to stay for another round and that had left her with nothing but a numb butt from sitting perched on the bar stool while she watched her friend flirt with the tall, shaggy-haired guy at the pool table. Now the guy was draped over Jo’s back as she giggled and lined up a shot, pretending to miscue so that he could ‘correct’ her. 

Aurora gave Jo a little wave to get her attention over the heavy rock playing over the tinny speakers and then thumbed towards the door, making the phone and time gestures to let her know she would call her later. 

“You’re not leaving so soon?” asked one of the other guys playing pool. He was tall too, and broad shouldered but athletic looking with it and had a mustache to go with this long brown hair. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late and I got things to do in the morning,” Aurora said apologetically. “It was nice meeting you though… Steve, wasn’t it?” 

“I can’t talk you into one last, teeny tiny drink?” She paused, considering. The thought of the meatloaf wasn’t exactly appetizing and it wouldn’t be the first time she showed up on a Sunday morning to take her grandmother to church on a whisper of sleep. She relented, but then the bartender reminded Steve that he had called last orders ten minutes ago and no amount of wheedling or good natured threats could change his mind. 

“Forget it, man!” called the guy who was currently taking a break from inspecting Jo’s tonsils. “Let’s just go up to the house.” 

“Naw, you sure? The Boss-”

“Won’t even know anything about it. He ain’t come down in three days, man, in more ways ‘n’ one.” 

Aurora frowned questioningly at Joanne, who shrugged back as the two men worked it out, and suddenly they were leaving the bar. 

“So, where exactly are we going?” Aurora asked, as she and Steve followed Jo and Dave, his name turned out to be, into the parking lot. She could feel Steve nervously eyeing her as they watched Dave sling his arm casually around Jo’s shoulders and stick his tongue in her ear. She had already prepared a sharp elbow in the ribs in case Steve got the same idea. 

“Uh, the place where I work has a pool room and a bar.” 

“You work in a bar?” She was trying to figure out why he was being so cagey. Wondering if maybe he was embarrassed, but that didn’t make sense if he was going to take her there. 

“No, it ain’t… It ain’t a bar.” 

Even as she was climbing past the folded seat into the back of Dave’s Datsun, Aurora was having second thoughts. The cool night air had cleared her buzzing head and chased off the last of the energy powering her limbs after a full day of work. She started preparing her speech for when they got to where they were going, so she could call a cab and head home, with or without Joanne. 

‘Look, it’s nothing personal’, she would say. ‘I just had a really long day.’

And then the Datsun turned right on the highway at the gates of Graceland.

“What are you-?!” Aurora gripped the headrest of the driver’s seat in front. “Are you kidding? God, I don't have time for this.” 

Fooling around and trying to break into Elvis Presley’s house was for kids and tourists. If these guys thought it was going to impress her, she would be glad to correct them. 

The gates opened. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed?” she asked again, staring at the  lights ahead and trying not to catch the eyes of the smattering of people standing outside the gates even at this hour.

Someone was sure to realise that they were not supposed to be there and they would be stopped. She wondered if the security guards really did have guns like the stories said. All sorts of crazies probably wanted to try and hurt a huge star like Elvis; there could be FBI snipers in the trees. 

“It’s okay,” Steve said finally, though his tight jaw didn’t exactly make him seem convincing.

The way that Dave shushed Joanne when she was laughing and squealing with excitement about seeing inside Elvis’ house also didn’t fill Aurora with a huge amount of confidence. 

It seemed deathly quiet and still as they went in the back. Aurora thought there should have been music, maybe ‘Hound Dog’ playing on a jukebox like they were stepping into one of his movies. Her aunt Phyllis would be green with envy that she was there. 

The guys crowded them in so it was hard to see exactly where ‘there’ was. Muted lighting, stairs, a lot of wood, and then a… a tent? 

“So, where's Elvis?!” Joanne asked, as they took in the busy pleated material sweeping out from the ceiling and draping down the walls surrounding the pool table. 

It made Aurora feel like she was trapped in her bed covers. She took in a strangled breath to reassure herself that she still could. Meanwhile, Joanne bent at the waist to check under the pool table- God, how much had she had to drink?!- as if Elvis could be lying in wait under there. 

“You think he'd sing ‘Don't be Cruel’ for me? That was my favorite when I was little.”

“He's probably sick of singing it,” Aurora told her, grabbing Jo's arm and shoving her sideways onto a sofa before she broke something and the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll had them in court for millions of dollars. 

Their secret out in the open, the guys seemed eager to tell them about their jobs and all the dangers and intrigue it entailed. It wasn’t all fetching and carrying, they assured the girls, there were some real bad guys out there who wanted to get a shot at Elvis and they were the reason that these bad motherfuckers had never got their shot. 

“You know a head honcho of the FBI said Elvis has better protection than the President,” Dave remarked, just before he potted the cue ball and swore under his breath. 

“Yeah? You ever meet the President?” Joanne asked, rolling her eyes at Aurora behind her hands. 

“No… No, the Boss did, though, more than one.” 

“Must’ve been when you weren’t on duty,” Joanne murmured. “Seriously, where is he, your boss? Isn’t he home? He’s gotta be home if you’re here, right?” 

“He likes to relax upstairs after he gets back from a tour,” Dave mumbled, racking up the pool table. “Things can get pretty intense.”

“I bet,” Joanne giggled. “All those mamas and grannies throwing their girdles at him.”

“Jo!” Aurora elbowed her and flashed an apologetic smile at the two guys.. “Sorry, a little beer on an empty stomach goes straight to her head. Can we maybe get some water?” 

The guys exchanged looks again, and Steve sighed and shrugged, glancing up at a camera with a little red light on it that Aurora hadn’t noticed before. 

“Sure, no problem. Follow me.” Aurora nodded and smiled, glancing back over her shoulder to watch Dave drop down into her space beside Joanne on the sofa. 

“I’m sorry about Jo. She just gets over excited, she doesn’t mean nothing by it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replied as they climbed the stairs. “You hungry? They can make pretty much anything you want in the kitchen.” 

Aurora followed him into a sleek, modern kitchen, all patterns and walnut. It was like walking around a maze. She had no idea where she had come from, nor where she was going, but she was vibrating with amazement that she had finally made it inside the house on the hill. 

The next time she drove past on the way to the mall she would be able to imagine what was going on inside. She could think of about fifteen customers at the salon whose toes would curl with jealousy when she told them. 

There were two ladies in the kitchen, their pale matching uniforms, the only plain, unpatterned material Aurora had seen in the house so far, were stark against their skin. Aurora could feel her cheeks burning, waiting for them to point out that she shouldn’t be there and call security, but they barely paid her any mind. 

Imagine having people whose job it was to just sit in your kitchen waiting for you to want a snack at one am! Aurora did catch one of the ladies glancing at her, her face unreadable, but her thoughts not impossible to imagine. She knew she was out of place, there but for the grace of Steve in her cut off jean shorts and her thrift store spaghetti strap blouse, staring starry-eyed at the glimmering glass or maybe crystal in the glass-fronted cupboards as sizzling sounds started coming from the stove. She could feel herself getting smaller, tucking in her edges and minding her manners, making less of herself so that she would be less of a blight. 

“Well, what do we have here?” 

The voice was soft and unmistakable, whether it was on the radio, in movie theaters, or in a strange kitchen in the middle of the night. 

Everyone immediately whipped around to look, but Aurora’s brain instead made her freeze on the kitchen stool. It told her that she couldn’t turn and face Elvis Presley with her mouth full. For some reason that seemed the ultimate violation.

So, she chewed and chewed the suddenly vulcanized bread as the seconds stretched into decades. Finally, when it had become too weird, she tried to force the ball of dough down her throat and ended up almost choking, swilling it down with a frantic gulp of water. 

“Steve, son, if you’re gonna sneak pretty girls into my house at least don’t try and kill ‘em in my kitchen. It’s, uh, bad for business.” 

A warm weight rested on her shoulder and squeezed as she looked up through watery eyes at Elvis Presley, up close in person. Her brain couldn’t take it all in at once, just fragments like the black hair, the sideburns, the gold aviator sunglasses, the smile… Even with her airway clear, Aurora was not exactly breathing. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She watched the familiar pillowy lips move as the words filled her ears, not completely in sync. His hand on her shoulder, his cologne in her nose, it was a fully immersive experience and she had already been finding it hard enough to comprehend standing in his kitchen. 

“Yeah, it went down the wrong way,” she heard someone say, and it kind of sounded like her. 

“Well, honey, looking at that ugly mug over there was always gonna give you indigestion. Nothing personal, Steve, you just got that look-” He laughed a little to himself. “Liable to give this young lady heartburn or something, you know.” 

Steve stood awkwardly on his other side like he was trying to gauge the mood, trying to figure out whether it was time for an explanation or an apology, and Aurora was trying to feel bad for him, but all she could feel was Elvis’ hand still on her shoulder, and the sleeve of his jacket brushing against her skin. There was pressure there, like he was leaning on her a little, and she tried to stay still when her pounding heart was telling her to try and run.  

“What’s your name, darlin’?” He pulled off his sunglasses and stumbled back a little, pretending that the low lighting of the kitchen was blinding, rubbing his slightly puffy eyes, before they narrowed as they fixed on her. Then it was Aurora who felt like squinting, trying to take it all in. 

“I’m Aurora,” she said. Then, for some reason she thought it might make things better somehow if she added, “You have a lovely home.” As if she was an invited guest coming over for iced tea on the porch. She was such an idiot. 

“Well, thank you, Aurora. Aurora, is that right?” 

Her name was a little unwieldy in his mouth, like he couldn’t quite get his tongue around it. Her face burst into flames as soon as she thought about his tongue. 

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, seeing as he was turning to berate Steve a little more, pointing out that at least she had some manners, unlike some people. 

Elvis had gray in his sideburns, Aurora noticed, as her muscles stiffened in the tense atmosphere and she was unable to look away. It made sense, he had been about her age when he first got famous, and that had been… a while. But it was still weird to think about Elvis going gray. She couldn’t picture him as an old man. In fact, the idea made her a little sad. But then the alternative would be worse. 

“Child,” he intoned suddenly, interrupting whatever he had been saying to put Steve in his place, and turning back to her with a twinkle in his eye, “you have gotta lower the beams on those pretty eyes of yours, they are practically melting my face off!” 

And that, more than the gray roots and the stumbling over her name, helped Aurora’s perspective click back into focus. The fancy furniture and the maids and the cooks and the Elvis-ness of him had turned her head for a while, made her feel off kilter, but she knew this dance very well.. 

“Well, it’s not like I can help it when you’re standing so close to me!” she retorted playfully. “You’re not made of glass you know!” 

The crooked smile crept across his face like the tide coming in and she felt herself slipping beneath the waves, drowning.

“You got some nerve, honey, I’ll give you that,” he said, shaking his head. “How ‘bout you finish eating my food and I’ll give you a real tour of this old place?”

“Look, if it means so much to you, you can have the rest of the sandwich,” she said, her careful, watchful eyes belying her teasing, irreverent tone. She knew she was in dangerous territory, her mama would have hissed a warning and cuffed her across the back of the head for being so rude, but the light that glittered in his heavy lidded eyes when she gave him some sass was too enticing to ignore. She didn’t think that too many people dared to tease Elvis Presley and that made her feel a little bad for him.  

In response, he gently ‘snatched’ the glass of water she was clutching and turned it until his luscious lips were in the same place hers had been, taking a sip. She somehow froze while also melting at the same time at the glittering challenge in his gaze and the faint twitch of his eyebrow. In that moment, she realized that she had vastly miscalculated how evenly matched they were in this battle. 

Luckily, she was rescued by Joanne, who had found her way upstairs and came reeling slightly into the kitchen, clutching Aurora’s jacket, and mumbling that she wanted to go home. She got as far as knocking into Aurora’s back before- and Aurora was never going to let her forget it- she shrieked:

“Oh Elvis! Oh shit!” 

Without context, it would have been impossible to tell whether she had caught sight of Elvis or a mouse running across the floor. What made it funnier was the complete non-reaction of Elvis himself, and the way that he locked eyes with Aurora for a long second, as if to say, ‘See what I have to deal with?’

Then he was introducing himself to Joanne, shaking her limp hand and saying he was pleased to meet her like it was all prearranged and they hadn’t effectively broken into his house in the middle of the night. 

Oh Elvis, oh shit, Aurora’s brain said helpfully, Elvis Presley is a nice guy. 

Sitting in his kitchen, trying to hold a loud, flailing Joanne with one arm and not failing to notice how uncomfortable Dave and Steve looked, Aurora began to feel grimy. It was one thing to take a peek at how the other half live, to get a glimpse of a rarefied existence, but it was another thing to barge in, do questionable things on the couch and make yourself a sandwich. The goldilocks giddiness had soured into shame. 

“So, um,” she began as she stepped backwards over her stool like the world’s clumsiest cowgirl, “we’re really sorry for trespassing…” She still couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud. “And we should probably get going.”

“Well now, wait a damn minute, honey, I promised you a tour, and by God, that’s what you’re gonna get!” This time, she didn’t giggle on cue.

Aurora wasn’t clever, but she was smart. She might not have read fancy long books, but she knew people and she knew men, best of all. Her mama made sure of that, because she didn’t want her to end up the same way, fooled by some good looking lying man who looked good in a fancy borrowed suit. 

It occurred to her, as she watched Dave and Steve share yet another long look, that this could all be some elaborate trick. It wasn’t like she and Joanne had asked the guys to bring them to Graceland, hadn’t twisted their arms, hadn’t even known they worked there before they brought it up. And the two guys had barely debated it before they were all suddenly getting into the cars. 

What if it was a set-up? What if Dave and Steve did this regularly, went out trolling for girls to bring back for their boss? What if she had walked into some weird situation straight out of the Hollywood gossip magazines?

“I have to get home,” she said, fumbling for excuses, “I gotta get up early to take my grandma to church and I have a couple of clients after that.” 

“Clients?” She didn’t understand his strange tone, but she simmered under his appraising eye, and instinctively held her jacket in front of her like it could transform into a pair of baggy pants. 

“She’s a hairdresser, she cuts hair,” Steve said sulkily, defensively. 

It felt like there were twelve different conversations going on in fifty different languages and it was too late and Aurora was too tired to deal with it all. It had been a fun adventure, but now it was time to go home. 

“Well, you know, I've been needing a haircut myself,” Elvis remarked with a strange, sly grin on his face, looking at Steve, who was irritably shuffling his feet against the carpet. “What do you say, honey?” 

“Your hair looks fine,” she replied, before turning to Steve and raising her eyebrows in a silent plea.

“No, really, if it gets any longer I’ll start looking like one of those weirdo freaks this one listens to,” Elvis joked, nodding towards Dave with his Led Zeppelin t-shirt stretched tight across his chest. “Nice guys, but complete weirdos, man.” 

Aurora was pretty sure that nobody was about to get Elvis Presley and the guys from Led Zeppelin mixed up, but saying so would have taken her over that line from light teasing to downright unkindness that she would never cross. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t got my kit with me and I’m so tired, I don’t think I should be trusted with scissors.” 

“I’ll go start the car,” Steve said, turning towards the kitchen door. 

“No! Now, hold up, man, nobody’s going nowhere ‘til I say so. S’cuse me for a minute, ladies, I think I need to have a word here with these so-called employees of mine.” Elvis’ tone was aggravated, like he was working hard to keep it even, behaving for company.

Joanne and Aurora looked at one another, shrugged, and stepped past the door that led down to the basement and found themselves in the red carpeted foyer, looking towards the front door. They listened carefully, but could only hear murmuring from back in the kitchen. 

Joanne squeezed her arm and pulled a triumphant face, hissing, “Fucking Elvis, man!”

“Shh, they might hear you.” Aurora occupied herself with staring up at the chandelier, watching the way the light was reflected back on the glass walls. She couldn’t imagine living in a house that had a chandelier. She wondered if Elvis ever marveled on it since he had grown up just as poor as her, maybe even more so. 

“You think he thought we were call girls?” Joanne asked, moving to lean against the staircase and resting her head on the banisters. She yawned wide enough to show the fillings 

in her back teeth. “When you said ‘clients’ they all got this weird look. Maybe he wants you to cut his hair to test your story.”

“I ain’t cutting anyone’s hair, I’m dead on my feet,” Aurora grumbled. 

“Not even if he offers you a thousand dollars?”

“Well, maybe for a thousand dollars.” She sleepily contemplated what she would spend a thousand dollars on. She wondered how much a chandelier cost. 

“Hell, for a thousand dollars I’d pretend to be the call girl!” They both snorted and giggled, before sighing into the still peace of the foyer. 

“He looks a little different from the movies though,” Joanne observed. “He’s got… heavier.” 

“Yeah,” Aurora conceded with a shrug. “Still Elvis though.” She giggled. “‘Oh Elvis! Oh Shit!’”  

“Shut up!” Joanne groaned, donking her head against one of the banisters. “I bet you didn’t come out with anything deep or profound when you saw him.” 

Aurora’s throat was still a little sore from where she had forced a fistful of bread through it while choking, but she kept that to herself. 

Finally, Dave shuffled out to let them know they could return from exile and led them back into an empty kitchen. When he spoke, he sounded annoyed and Aurora wondered if he had got a ticking off from Elvis too. Maybe it hadn’t been a set up after all. 

“C’mon.” He nodded towards a set of the stairs that curled up round a wall in the corner of the room. 

“Where?” she countered. 

“Look, just cut his fucking hair a little, all right? Pretend if you have to, we’ll be heading out on tour soon and he’ll have his hairdresser do it properly then anyway.” 

Aurora looked at the staircase and thought about getting back into the Datsun and going home. She thought about telling the ladies at the salon about her weekend, the way they would say, ‘And what happened then?!’ And she would have to finish her surreal recount with, ‘Then I chickened out and went home.’ 

That would be a lame ending to the story. 

And so she found herself leaning in front of Elvis Presley, examining his wet bangs as she ran them through the comb, scissors clutched in hand, standing in the most outrageously opulent bathroom she had ever seen. 

“You shouldn’t wrinkle your forehead like that, you know, honey,” he observed, his breath tickling the column of her throat. “You’ll look old before your time.”

Her frown shifted from one of concentration to intense control, trying to stop herself from shivering because it felt like he was murmuring into her ear. 

“My face does what it wants,” she replied finally, snipping the tiniest fragment of an inch. “I don’t have too much of a say in it. Keeps me honest, otherwise who knows what I’d be doing instead of cutting hair day and, apparently night now too.” 

They had negotiated down to just trimming the bangs, and now that she was confronted with his mass of fine hair, she was grateful. Everyone knew that half the teen population back in the day had flipped their lids when they cut off Elvis’ hair in the army. Aurora didn’t want to become the target of those same women today, stronger, smarter, and old enough to own handguns.

“What would you be instead, if you could choose?” She made the mistake of looking at his face when he asked. It was a trap. Framed by dark, weary shadows, the murky blue of his eyes had all but swallowed up the pupil and it felt like they were looking at something within her, somewhere she didn’t even want to let people know existed.  

“I don’t know. If you ask my memaw, there are only a few careers a girl can have with a name like mine. I picked the most respectable. There we go, all done.”

“What kind of name is Aurora anyway?” Searching, his damn eyes were searching and she couldn’t seem to distract him.

“I don’t exactly think we should be making fun of people’s names, Elvis. Especially not when some of us are holding scissors.” He snorted and laughed to himself. It sounded so young and silly that she knew it was real. 

“Aurora means dawn or light. You know the Northern Lights? Those squiggly colorful lights up in the North Pole? Their real name is Aurora Borealis. And you know, Sleeping Beauty’s name was Aurora.” 

It was the well worn explanation she had been trotting out since she was knee high to a cricket, not that it ever made any difference to the bemused, baffled or disdainful faces of the gangs of kids or customers at her father’s store that demanded she explain herself. 

She caught sight of Elvis��� reflection studying her, but not in the way that he had been before, the way that men often studied her, appraising and pricing her up like her daddy did with cans of soup. No, this was a different kind of look. 

“Dawn,” he murmured, his gaze seeming to look past her. “Sleeping…Beauty… Might be something to this…” His eyes seemed to click back into focus and he smiled at her, that crooked smirk that everyone in the world imagined in their head when someone said the name Elvis Presley. “It’s pretty, sweetheart, I was just kiddin’.”

When she followed him out of the bathroom, he mumbled, “Think fast!” And before she could even decipher his words, she was catching the tiger statue he had tossed at her. It was heavy enough it could have probably cracked her skull if she hadn’t caught it. 

“Whoa, was the haircut that bad that you had to try and kill me?!”

“No, honey, it was fine, but it’s like you, you see.” She could tell something corny was coming from the silly little grin and the way he paused to laugh at himself. “It’s a roarer.” She groaned, but giggled as he laughed, his brows knitted together in a pained acknowledgement of how corny he had been. 

“Woo, well, it’s lucky you’re pretty,” Aurora replied, doing what she thought was a damn fine impression of her grandma, who always said it like it was. 

When Elvis snorted a little, but didn’t say anything else, she wondered if she had caught him off guard and made him a little bashful. She made a show of giving the ceramic tiger a scritch under the chin like it was a pussy cat and then went to hand it back. 

“No, no,” he replied, waving his hand. “It’s yours, honey, you caught it. Them’s the rules.”

“Well, thank you… You know, it puts a whole new perspective on those folks you gave cars to. They probably belong in a circus.” He didn’t reply, just sat down on his bed and shuffled back against the pillows, picking up one of the books that lay strewn across the comforter. 

Not knowing quite what she was supposed to do, she petted the tiger under her arm and started edging towards the door. If she couldn’t make a glamorous exit, she could at least minimize the awkwardness of it. 

“Hey, you know…” Her eyes fixed on him as she did her little side shuffle, she saw him glance up from his book and his expression go from open to frowning. “Where you goin’?”

I thought we were… I thought you were waiting for me to leave.” He shook his head, looking slightly irritated, and then patted the bed heavily by his legs. 

Aurora thought of Steve waiting downstairs and then shrugged, walking over to the bed. You didn’t ignore an Elvis for a Steve. She perched on the edge of his bed and watched as he rooted around on his nightstand, sliding on a pair of gold framed glasses and shooting her a sheepish look. 

“The lightning of the Word will illumine the abysses.

New, new, new ones, beautiful ones, sensitive ones, 

Exalted ones, will be assembled.

The Teacher has entrusted thee to manifest Him.” He read it like poetry or scripture and it sounded dramatic and lovely to Aurora’s ears, but then he stopped and he looked at her like she was supposed to do or say something. It was like standing at the front of the class on book report day with nothing in her hands. Her face burned all the way back to her ears. 

“You ever heard anything like that before, honey?” he asked finally, his eyes back to scanning the text, leaving her to writhe in her ignorance and humiliation. 

“No, I don’t think so.” She looked longingly at the black padded door standing open and then down at her tanned toes, half submerged in the thick red shag pile carpet as if her sandals weren’t even there. “I was never too good in school.”

“School,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t learn nothing worth knowing in school. I mean no disrespect to the teachers, but-” He sighed loudly. “You know most people use but one percent of their brains, one percent! Just focussing on the Mickey Mouse shit, uh, workin’ and paying the bills and having a good time, coveting their fuckin’ neighbor’s whatever… Never knowing what’s really important.” 

Aurora stared at him as he continued his diatribe, a little impressed at how he weaved in foulmouthed quotes from the Bible. Nobody was going to believe this was how she spent her Saturday night.

“I’ve been studying all this a long time, it takes discipline and dedication. Honey, why don’t you come on up here and get comfortable?” He gestured to the space beside him on the pillows, the space usually occupied by glamorous models and beauty queens, one of whom was beaming with fierce intensity at her from a framed picture on the dark wood unit against the wall. 

“Um, can I bring Muffin?” He lifted an eyebrow and she tilted the tiger she still had tucked into her hip. “I named him Muffin.” 

“Well, I was talking to Muffin anyhow, but I guess he can bring you.” He shook his head, his cheekbones brimming as he smirked and watched her shuck her sandals and clamber up gracelessly from the bottom of the bed. “You’re kinda silly.” He leant forward and gave her a lightning fast kiss on the lips, just warm and wet and gone. “I like that.” 

And then he read to her, for over an hour. Sleepily leaning against the pillow, Aurora slid her finger underneath the stretchy strap of her watch as it was pressing into her skin. Her eyes caught sight of the time and she pushed herself up, feeling a little dazed and dizzy. 

Having sunk back into his pillows too, Elvis was still reading, his voice barely above a whisper and he didn’t seem to notice her sitting up. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm and then said his name. It took him a beat or two to register the interruption. 

“It’s getting really late,” she said apologetically. “I think I should go find Steve, he’s my ride home.” 

“Aw, honey, he went, he’s gone.” 

Aurora smiled anxiously, not sure if he was joking. “He better not be. It’s a long walk back to my house.” 

“I’ll have someone take you home, don’t worry about that,” he murmured, his words slipping and sliding together.

“Well, It’s getting pretty late,” she said again. 

He lowered his book and went to say something, but seemingly changed his mind. Instead, he reached over with a grunt and picked up the phone, gruffly asking who was on duty. Aurora busied herself with slipping back into her shoes and hefting Muffin back onto her hip. 

Elvis put down the receiver of the red phone and climbed off the bed. 

“I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay with you?” The way he said it was oddly formal and solemn, a complete contrast to the way he had teasingly beckoned her onto his bed earlier. It threw her enough that she forgot to be overwhelmed.

“Sure!” She cringed inwardly at how high pitched her voice sounded and tried to clear her throat discreetly. 

“Let me take down your number and I'll call you.” 

Elvis rifled through the contents of his nightstand and snatched up a pen and then, with a shrug, opened the front cover of his book.

It was about then that Aurora's brain caught up with the situation and her hand shook as she reached for the pen and scrawled ‘Aurora + Muffin’ alongside her number on the inside cover of his book. When she handed it back, he teased her by turning the book upside as he squinted at it. 

“What is this, hieroglyphics?!” 

And Aurora laughed goodnaturedly, even though she had been teased her whole time at school for her poor penmanship and inability to improve it. She laughed even though, as a rule, she never let anyone get away with making fun of the things she couldn’t change. Something about him defused all those defenses designed to detonate on a hair trigger. 

Aurora felt Elvis follow her to the bedroom door without seeing him. It was a weird feeling, like wearing a heavy cape made of ice. She was almost afraid to check in case it all evaporated like a dream and she woke up in her pilling pink blankets and worn rosebud sheets. 

The heavy, warm hand that came to rest on her shoulder was a surprise and a reassurance then, as she felt him turn her. She took a step back, since he was that much taller and they were standing so close together that she was face to face with the dip at the base of his throat, able with microscopic clarity to see the way his golden chest hair curled behind the thick gold chain he was wearing with the strange symbol that looked to her eyes like a musical note with extra parts. 

“Um, sorry,” she murmured, looking away, even though he had been the one to crowd her. He smiled softly, angling his head and pressing his soft full lips against hers. She jolted, almost choking again, and saved herself by grabbing hold of him, clutching at his waist, thick but firm, with her free hand and pressing in against him. His lips were soft and lush, like no other man’s she had kissed before. They tickled and teased, and sent shivers that spread down her spine and radiated through her body. 

When his tongue first brushed and then slid against hers, she let out a little whine that had him huffing a laugh and drawing back, his hand cradling her jaw.  

“You sure you gotta go, baby?” he asked softly in that low, intimate voice that made her legs quiver. “We could just sleep, you know. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t try anything.”

“I trust you,” she replied, though she wasn’t sure she did. “It’s me I don’t trust.” Which was one hundred percent true.

He pulled her in again by her chin, but she still wasn’t ready as they both exhaled in playful frustration. She nibbled on his ripe bottom lip even as she was pulling away. 

Aurora made it to the outer door that led to the stairs before he called her back. 

“Hey Tiger!” She let her shoulders and face slump with indignation as she realized she had answered to the silly name. “We’re going to see each other again, sweetheart.” She smiled at the previously unimaginable picture she was walking away from- Elvis Presley framed by the light in a doorway, his hair rumpled and tousled (her fault) and his mouth wet and swollen (even more her fault). “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find.” 

“Sure.” Frowning a little through her smile, she nodded and turned back to the stairs. Was he talking about himself or was he talking about her? Maybe he was talking about Muffin. She hefted the tiger a little higher under her arm and clumped down the stairs, blearily opening the front door to greet the dawn. 

@thatbanditqueen, @vintageshanny, @be-my-ally @lookingforrainbows, @from-memphis-with-love, @peskybedtime

[maya-caffrey]

Good Night

trope: 'too many beds' from this here list

words: 1.7k (bigger next time, promise)

pairing: neal caffrey x reader

fandom: white collar

warnings: language, maybe? this is a fluff/crack fic, we are here solely for the vibe; ps- the fic is from the reader's pov

Only God knows why this stakeout required having to stay at a motel. Not a hotel, god, no. Because after years of authorizing literally a shit ton of money for cases, now is when Hughes decided to be financially responsible. Screw you, dude. Also thanks for hiring me I love working white collar.

Anyway, this means that I get to spend the night at this dingy motel on a highway almost outside our jurisdiction with none other than everyone's favorite convict (said with hate and sarcasm), Neal Caffrey.

Am I mad about it? Why, yes. Yes, I am. Not just at the fact that literally anyone could have gone in my place but they insisted I go, but also at the fact that I just so happen to absolutely despise spending time alone with Neal. Ok fine, I may have a teeny tiny crush on him, a really small one that makes it hard for me to work with him because it makes me act stupid.

cut to flashback

I was taking a file to Peter's office when Neal saw me and walked over to me with two cups of coffee in his hand.

"Hey, (Y/n)! I got you coffee from that place you like."

A normal person would have accepted the cup, thanked him, and walked away. Am I that kind of normal? God, no.

I looked at him like he had threatened to kill my dog, and said, "I stopped drinking coffee this morning," and took that cup, threw it in the trash next to me, and sprinted the rest of the way to Peter's office. This poor man just stood there, confused.

and we're back

So, yes. This was on Monday so he'd had a couple days to really let it marinate. I was driving to June's place to pick him up when it dawned on me how painfully silent this car ride could be. Instead, the minute he got inside the car, he started having a normal conversation with me like I hadn't trashed his coffee a couple days earlier.

If he noticed the tension in my voice, he didn’t let on. Instead, he just kept talking, filling the car with this easygoing chatter about everything from Peter’s latest case blunder to some new exhibit he wanted to check out. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose like he could sense that I was trying to avoid looking at him, trying to act casually. But, of course, he could act casually—he was Neal Caffrey. I was the one whose brain short-circuited at a simple gesture he'd do for anyone, maybe.

Finally, after ten minutes of me grunting and nodding like some sort of malfunctioning robot, he looked at me with a knowing smile. “So, we're just going to pretend you didn't toss my coffee in the trash?"

Oh good lord what fresh hell is this? How am I supposed to respond to that? Oh, that? sorry, I love you.

"I panicked, okay? It was a reflex!"

"Your reflex was to throw my coffee in the trash?"

"Hey man, I'm the new girl, I don't have friends yet. I'm not used to people being all..."

"All what?"

"Nice!"

"You're not used to," he trailed off laughing that smug little laugh of his and continued, "I'll tell you what, the next time I attack you with my kindness, I'll warn you, deal?"

I am beyond embarrased at this point I could just crawl under my dashboard and die.

“Deal,” I managed, feeling my cheeks heat up. “But just so you know, I don’t respond well to... uh, unannounced niceness.”

He gave me this look, half-smile and half something I couldn’t read. “Duly noted,” he said, and his voice was softer than usual like he really meant it.

We drove in silence for a minute, which was worse than the conversation. I could feel the way his presence filled the car like he was everywhere and nowhere at once. And, as if he could sense I was desperately overthinking, he shifted in his seat, brushing a hand through his hair and watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, I don’t bite,” he said finally, that playful lilt back in his voice. “Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”

My mouth opened and closed, and I just shook my head in surrender.

"Nope, no. We are not going there."

"Suit yourself. Get it? Suit yourself. Cause you're-"

"Yeah, Neal, I got it."

The rest of the ride went about as normal as it could. A few jokes here, some awkward silence there, a dash of bickering. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy it a bit. Before we knew it (we were painfully aware), we had reached the motel.

"Neal, you get the bags, I'll go get us checked in."

"Wait, why am I on bag duty?"

"Because I'm the agent. You're my bitch tonight." Was that too much? sigh

"Wow. Understood. So it's just all or nothing with you," he said in a fake hurt voice, clutching his pearls. Every time he sensed I was nervous, he tried to ease the air. I loved that about him. Asshole.

I laughed to lift the tension and gave in to his fake protest, but he insisted that he'd got the bags. I walked into the "reception desk" which was just a countertop with an underpaid employee behind it. Everything about this place made me feel like I could be mugged any second. I was not getting a single positive vibe from this place and I could not wait to go back home.

I walked over to the poor kid behind that desk and explained our situation and asked for a room. On account of the odds being in my favor as always, we got the last available room at the motel to which the receptionist guided me with as little enthusiasm as possible. Neal followed, with both our overnight bags in his hands. The receptionist handed the key to me and left without so much as a word, just an apologetic look.

I put the key in the lock and unlocked the door to find what I can only describe as... confusing. Not one, two, or even three. Eight beds, crammed into that tiny ass room. What the fuck.

"Hey Neal, quick question, do you see-"

"Yeah, I see it, alright"

"Good, so I'm not crazy."

“So… eight beds,” he said, almost like he was trying the words out just to make sure they were real.

I shot him a look, half-laughing, half-horrified. “Eight beds,” I repeated, my brain short-circuiting in confusion.

We both just stood there, staring, as if maybe the beds would magically explain themselves. They didn’t. And since the charming guy at the front desk was about as helpful as a damp sponge, calling for answers was out. Which meant we were officially stuck here in what I could only describe as the weirdest stakeout setup in history.

“Well,” Neal said, tossing his bag onto the closest mattress with a casual shrug, “at least we won’t have to fight over space.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re right; I don’t know how we’d survive otherwise.”

In the next beat, he’d grabbed one of the pillows and flung it at me, completely out of nowhere. It smacked me in the shoulder, and when I looked up, he was giving me that look—that smug, too-charming-for-his-own-good look that always left me just a little short of breath. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Might as well make use of all these, right?”

“Oh, you’re asking for it,” I muttered, grabbing a pillow from a nearby bed and launching it back at him, fully prepared for war.

That kicked off what was, I’ll admit, a ridiculously fun half-hour of pillow forts and feigned ambushes across the bed maze. At some point, I found myself perched on one of the beds, trying to throw together some kind of barricade with a ridiculous amount of pillows while Neal “strategically” circled me with a smirk.

Then, because the universe hates me, there was a moment where he leaned in close, way closer than necessary to “take back” one of the pillows he’d flung. Suddenly, his face was right there, all blue eyes and easy confidence, and I froze, my heart doing this humiliating little flip. His hand brushed against mine as he reached for the pillow, and for a second, I couldn’t remember how breathing was supposed to work.

He moved in closer, his face dangerously close to mine, his eyes gazing right into mine, not faltering even for a second. His hand slowly reached for the pillow, but the rest of him stood there frozen, towering over me. I could hear his heartbeat just as loud as I could hear mine and my breath hitched, making me aware of the trance I was in.

He paused too, just looking at me with this amused expression that told me he’d noticed every single bit of my brain short-circuiting. Perfect. Just perfect. I could feel my face heating up, and I was about two seconds from combusting when he finally let out a soft chuckle, pulling away just in time to save what was left of my dignity.

“So…should I warn you the next time I invade your personal space?” he asked, clearly enjoying every second of my embarrassment.

I shot him the best death glare I could muster, though I knew I was blushing furiously. “Yes, actually. Please put it in writing. Triple signed.”

He laughed, plopping onto one of the beds across from me with that smug grin still plastered on his face. I tried to focus on the pillow fort, on anything but the fact that I’d just had a full-on breakdown over a single, stupidly close moment.

But of course, with my luck, just as things started to settle, the shrill beep of a radio crackled through the room, a reminder of why we were actually here. I sighed, letting reality pull me back, and Neal looked over at me, his playful expression fading into something more serious.

“Right. Stakeout,” he said, sounding only mildly disappointed.

“Yeah,” I replied, trying to steady my heartbeat. “Stakeout.”

We went about setting up our positions, his usual lightheartedness replaced by that sharp, focused energy he got whenever he was in “work mode.” But every now and then, his eyes would flicker back to me, a knowing smile lurking at the edges. And every time, I’d feel that stupid little flutter again, like maybe—just maybe—eight beds and a stakeout in the middle of nowhere wasn’t so bad after all.

[playboifenty]

╰┈➤*.⋆🎬 ❝ 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅?

🩷 • 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐳 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 headcanons!

SPOTIFY • YOUTUBE MUSIC • TAGLIST • INFO

📃. 〄 . ᗢ . ?

🎧 ⋆ NOW PLAYING: WHAT YOU HEARD ━ SONDER. 🎶

―🌟TAGS ! fluff, angst, toxicity, hurt/comfort ish. 🎞 SUMMARY: ❛ fuck yo mind up, waste time. ❜ high hopes, unrealistic dreams, empty promises, and bottles of expensive ass champagne is the foundation of the relationship between the two. ⋆ ★ w/c: 1.1k . . . . . ☢ content warnings: a lilllll teeny tiny bit (a lot a bit) of toxicity... (its brent idk what you expected), comfort if you squint n bend your morals a bit, suggestive-ish themes, brent is a lil sassy cause why tf not, use of the n word, and ermm..lmk if i missed anything else!! ― 🔖 one , two .

ʚ 𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 ! 👁️‍🗨️

omg, omg, omg, hiii!!!! this is like..my first fic on tumblr and my first piece of writing in a whileee, but i wanted to write something cause i kinda sorta have nothing on my account 😭. and this fic lowkey has like a toxic relationship in mind for their relationship but its not overly toxic. (i understand the whole media for impressionable audiences thing but just scroll past it if you not fw it, relaxxx.) so this is just a lil sumn for and to get the hang of things, so let me know if you like it!! feedback is definitely appreciated, but not harsh feedback cause im lowkey sensitive 🥲. i also do not condone, romanticize, or encourage toxic, abusive, or unhealthy relationships!! this is purely just a work of fiction. enjoy!

© don't steal my shit gang. kinda proofread, will be edited.

It started off with a few stolen glances and a sudden gift disguised as a piece of chocolate cake arriving at your table… 

“Courtesy of the table across from you.”  

And it’s been history ever since. 

“I know you seen me looking at you, you know how to grab a nigga’s attention fasho.”

“Mhm, you know you playing wit’ fire right?”

“Fire aint nothing forreal if you know how to handle it.” 

He was always finding some way to make you fold and he knew exactly what he was doing too. Stringing you on with quick but sensual kisses, “I gotchu, jus’ be patient.” licking his lips whenever the energy of his heated stares was matched by you, his hands rhythmically rubbing up and down your thighs, his eyes always being locked on you whenever you spoke. . .There was no way in hell you were going to make it out unscathed. 

Quick and flirty banter is definitely a pillar in you guy’s relationship, feeling comfortable enough to go back and forth with each other.

“Don’t miss me too much! i’ll see you soon, baby.”

“Dont miss you too much? I’ll be missing you the whole week, ma.” 

He loved buying you bracelets and necklaces with his or your name engraved on them, cute lil’ bags he be seeing you eyeing whenever you walk through Chanel, giving you personalized free VIP access to his shows, shit...sending drivers to pick you up and bring you to said shows. And he always made sure you ate and did whatever you needed to do.

“You eat? Nah fuck that, you hungry?” 

“...Maybe.”

“...Don’t play with me, y/n.”

Brent is definitely a sweet-heart in the beginning, well...in his own little way. He’s a romantic but not hopeless. He knew how to show you he cared while also not overplaying his part and things would definitely need time to build up into an actual relationship too. You weren’t stupid, you knew that even though you knew him on a deeper level than all the fame and even as far as to say you knew him as Christopher, he’s still gonna Brent Faiyaz at the end of the day. There were still going to be precautions, external problems, internal problems, and then internal problems egged on by the external ones; loving him was going to be anything but easy. But your connection started to change in different ways too, the relationship would start off with lots of excitement and rose-tinted lenses until feelings started growing and shit got serious; you was thinking it was going to give Jackie Brown and a dash of search & rescue baby...but in reality, it's giving what you heard and session 32 😭. (coughs in this nigga has avoidant attachment issues) 

As soon as he realized what you two had going on was developing into something deeper, he started getting distant. Missing calls, ignoring texts, even coming up with half-assed excuses for missed dates and blowing you off. 

“My bad, I had a lot of shit going on.” 

“I was in the studio, you know how it be, y/n.”

 “I got too caught up in London, that shit was crazy.” 

“You think i could call you back though?” 

And soon the arguments came and you two started staying mad at each other for days on end, not even bothering to try and smooth things over like in the beginning of the relationship. It was hard and it gave you a lot of anxiety. You wouldn't say that you felt unsafe perse, but you definitely didn't feel comfortable. “You mean to tell me that you can't answer the fucking phone for three seconds, Chris??” You shouted, frustration built up in your voice and it was obvious that you were fed the fuck up. It didn't help that the man sitting in front of you was quick to roll his eyes and smack his teeth, but what definitely didn't help was his smart-ass mouth. “Ain't nobody tell you to hit my jack and start losing yo shit, y/n. That's the shit that be blowing me.” 

“I don’t hear from you for days and you expect me to not get worried? You’re mad at me for giving a fuck about you??”

“Whatever, man.”

The whole thing would just progressively get worse as you two went back and forth. you saying petty shit while he just dismissed your feelings until he decided that he would just tell you shit you wanted to hear so the situation would be deaded.

 “I’m sorry, y/n...” he’d say soothingly in your ear, massaging your hips in circular motions as you’d lay your head on top of his chest, close to where his heart beats. “You know I be missing you like crazy. you can't stay mad at me for too long, baby.” and he was right. This routine repeated and repeated itself over and over again until he stopped ‘comforting’ you and just seemingly stopped caring altogether. 

“Nah bro, you tweakin’.” 

“Okay, y/n. stop calling my phone then, problem solved.”

“And you swear you don’t see how your point doesn’t make sense?”

“You got it, y/n.”

With time, you two just broke away from each other, but never ended things officially. It went from short brief phone calls to text messages and eventually, those stopped too. A hole was left in your chest and you couldn’t help but feel as if you wasted your time, continuously punishing yourself because you gave out a part of yourself you won't get back ━ but you couldn’t help but miss him. You’d find yourself compensating for his absence, making two plates of everything, migrating to his unspoken side of the bed, never taking the flowers he got you out of the vase you put them in; even though they long withered away. “I can't believe this nigga got me out here wasting food, groceries are expensive...Eggs are almost four fucking dollars! I can't do this shit, I need to get a grip and be fucking forreal.” 

But let's not pretend he didn’t find himself trying to make sense of your absence, too. 

⋆ ⤏ FINAL WORDS ! 📢 honestly this doesn't feel like it's 1k+ words but it is 😭. i'm so tired chile and i start school in 4 hours. i'm actually content with how this came out, fw it!!

PART TWO COMING SOON.

📸 TAGS !

[mochinon-yah]

I just realized we all technically have the power to ask any questions on this site, and I never got to doing it. So....

[Points S.E.E.S evoker at you]

Who are the fictional characters you ship your mutuals to? Doesn't have to be necessarily their self-ship. I am deadass curious. Spill the tea, Imbibitor's lover—

We can lower that down, brynn- no need to get all aggressive now-

*cough* ANYWAY!

I'll list them down below, and if they're not accurate or you're actually gonna fight them rather than making out with the characters that i chose then yeah, that is probably my plan 😀 /silly

Oh and! I'll mostly be using genshin and hsr characters because yeah-

@beloved-brynn -> heizou and ratio. NGL, YOU + HEIZOU, OR YOU + RATIO, OR EVEN THE THREE OF YOU WOULD TOTALLY BE SO FUNNY AND CHAOTIC 😭☝️ they can counter your wild statements while also being the (somewhat) saner one but could also say smth wild as well. I could see you and one of em (possibly ratio) be like "oh yeah, the other day, i was eating my lunch while watching that gorey movie-" "what." "yeah, i was hungry at that time, so like why not yk-" (this is based on my real experience guys, guess which dialogue is me lmao)

@meimeimeirin -> hmmmm, koh zhongli maybe? Okay, let me tell you the reason why... it's simply because she NEEDS someone who can pamper her! I don't know where that conclusion came from, but yeah. Anyway, if we're talking about other characters, then i think welt, or even zayne from lnd could fit. Basically: "I need someone older, just a little bit colder." lmao (oh, mochi, did this conclusion came up because you know rin's the youngest in her family and now you ship her with men older (and more experienced) than her? whaatt... ofc not, haha-)

@leftdestiny-posts -> absolutely cannot see them with anyone other than dottore. Cute and kind but is secretly crazy "i want to watch the world burn" x The human version of the word 'crazy' "as you wish, my love" would be their dynamic, i suppose...? WAIT OH! I can actually see shiro with ayato or maybe sunday! I bet they would like such a cute, innocent-looking darling to control, but then they would get so surprised and maybe super interested into trying to control the darling despite how crazy the darling actually is- (shiro ily, if ur crazy then we can be crazy together 💐)

@navxry -> arlechinno, and maybe black swan. Yeah, that's it. No explanation needed.

@jessamine-rose -> hmmm, would it be weird if i say capitano? I don't know why or how did i get to that conclusion, but yeah. And maybe blade? IDK WHY I'M PARTNERING HER WITH CRAY CRAY MEN- SORRY JESS, I (subconsciously) THINK YOU CAN LIKE CALM THEM OR SMTH AJFIAWOF-

@stardust-for-your-soul -> funnily enough, i can see her with aventurine. They'll say sweet words that probably have a double meaning and also probably have a teeny tiny bit (maybe a lot lmao) of 'enemies to lovers' moment. (wow, cherry, your new bf is a gambler- /smack). But anyway, i could also see her be with march 7th who is so bubbly and sweet, and i'd think cherry would love to tease march hehe

@teabutmakeitazure -> ACTUALLY NGL DAN HENG????? He would listen to her ramblings and also help her write her fics. It just sounds so cute in my opinion lol. Other than dan heng (who is obviously the best choice), zuri would probably look into red flag charas, like... yeah, aventurine- but still tho, dan heng! But i get what zuri is thinking tho, red is such a sexy color- /smack

@harmonysanreads -> ngl alhaitham or kaeya would be cute if paired up with her! Idk where did kaeya come from, but when i thought about it, instantly "cute!". I think, harmony has this really 'weird' calming aura that could make those two charas just fell in love with how comfortamble she can make them feel. BUT LIKE IDK THO-

@fishanonishere -> Albedo...... i think? Fish, i know what you are- i mean like as in how chaotic and just how 'what in the world is this person thinking???' you are. With how calming and 'would jump into any interesting topic' he is, i think fish and him could be such a cute duo. Fish's ramblings and their drawings are some of the things that make him really interested in fish

[nagdabbit]

so mayhap have a teeny tiny little bit of a tale warcrime

like 850 words that i really like a lot little bit of a war crime

there's probably spoilers for we collide with shoulder and steel but lorde knows i will spoil my own fic if someone asks nicely so don't be surprised. anyway. a smidge of tale

.

When he was fifteen, afraid and shivering in the autumn wind, Danny tucked behind him, Yuta finally understood the danger in the fire.

Houses had burned before, that was nothing new. They needed to make space in the town, just as they needed to make space in the fields. Houses died, just as people did. Cracked and crumbled, turned bitter and brittle, emptied out like the bodies that had grown old inside them. It was nothing new.

But as he stood on that hill, clutching Danny close, he watched the fire take a home. He watched people running for the wells, buckets in hand. Heard the screams echoing out across the night, barely loud enough to hear over the roar of flames. Saw bodies leap from windows, crashing to the charred earth as the head of the blaze began to eat away at the next house behind. 

It was the first time he'd seen the fire take what wasn't given

In all, five homes were reduced to ash before anyone noticed the eastern flank beginning to head toward the hills—toward them. 

Fire was meant to clear away the debris of past harvests, making way for the next. It was wine on a wound, meant to wash away infection—though it would burn and sting to high heaven. But not all wounds healed. Some were no longer fresh, but already starting to rot and wither. Some were too deep, too wide, too plentiful, and all he saw in every direction was dry grass and dead trees. There was nowhere for them to hide, fire eating away at all sides of them, and he'd seen well enough that fire ran faster than he could. 

It had been Danny who saved them, in the end. He'd always been a little reckless, always had more faith than common sense—and more dumb luck than anything else. He'd grabbed Yuta's hand and ran toward the fire.

He'd always been practical, but he trusted Danny more than his own fear. When he felt the heat on his skin, singeing his cheeks and scorching his lungs, he feared they were running toward their deaths. But he still blindly lept when Danny yelled for him to.

He thought about that moment, passing through the flames for what felt like hours, before they crashed to the razed pasture. The ground was hot beneath their feet, still smoking, but the fire had passed.

He didn't know how the fire was eventually stopped, far too busy clutching Danny close as they both shook, but it had been put out before it took the mountain. When dawn finally came, he'd looked to see the line of blackened earth where it brushed right up to the treeline, a hair's breadth away from catching the whole world alight. It was the first time he'd truly known the cold emptiness of hopeless fear.

It was the first time he'd realized how close they were to disaster. The first time he realized that fires only ever got bigger, got closer, got hungrier. It was the first time he'd realized that something needed done, beyond the triage they'd been surviving on for so long.

It was the first time he thought of climbing the mountain, of looking for answers to questions no one wanted to ask. First time he'd considered that, just maybe, tradition might be the death of them. It was the first time he'd realized how well and truly fucked they were. 

But he hadn't found answers waiting at the top of that rocky trail, not the ones he'd wanted. He found silence and cruelty, stoked by years of solitude. A garden littered with the remains of those that had come before him, with room enough for those that would come after. Earth scorched, not by fire, but by inaction. A household torn by tragedies and traumas.

He found what he'd thought a beast with the heart of a man, lonely atop his cliffside prison. 

He found a graveyard, one he feared he'd one day join.

But he'd hauled cool, clear water up from the mountain's depths. He'd tilled the dry, gray earth with his bare hands. Planted seeds he'd spent years collecting out of some distant hope, and grew something more than just another tragedy atop that quiet cliff. 

And with one swift, tender act of unwitting cruelty, he found himself filled with an even greater swell of hope. 

His garden outlived him.

With each year he remained, his garden grew on without him. Birds nested and bees, heavy with pollen, lumbered their way between blossoms. There was fruit enough to feed the curious few deer and soft, curious rabbits that had found their way back. Life enough that it spread, and grew without a gardener to guide it, overflowing from the beds that he had made.

By his own hands, he had healed a tiny scrap of a broken land. Left a mark so deep and profound that it wouldn't be washed away by unthinking anger and misplaced fear. Proof enough, even for him, that they could all one day be saved.

[lollytea]

Just read your huntlow neverland au fics and I'm oooooh sooooooo obsessed!!! My brain is fulll of thoughts now! Fairies, who feel emotions so intensely they can only feel one at a time, struggling to keep their feelings and powers under control? Faries, who die when people say they don't believe in them?? (What about the fairies who struggle believing in themselves ohhhhh--)

Girls are too clever to fall out of their prams... but what about the girls who are taken...? changeling willow perchance? And fairy kings gilbert and harvey my beloveds??

(You killed me with willow realizing she's hunters happy thought btw, took me out entirely. That and sleepy willow just sitting in people's cupped hands as her wings wake up the imagery is too cuuuuutee!)

AAAAAAA!!! Oh, this ask makes me so happy, I'm delighted you enjoyed the fics. I wanna write a few more, but there's a long list of stuff I wanna write, so who knows when I'll get around to it.

I wanted to incorporate Willow's issues with repressing her feelings into this AU somehow rather than erase it by including the detail of her tiny body not being designed for repression. So in my mind, Willow is an incredibly powerful fairy, a real force of nature. However, this kind of magic is at its strongest when it's not stretched too thin. SO if Willow uses her magic to change into a human sized form, she's significantly less powerful than she is when she's teeny tiny. Holding human form for long periods of time is like flexing a muscle in terms of magical ability. She can't do much else.

HOWEVER, when Willow changes into human form, she can actually regulate her emotions properly and is no longer such an open book. She can resist big messy outbursts of anger or sadness or giddiness. She can be chill. And she's finally capable of hiding how she's feeling.

So basically Willow has two forms. Both forms have their strengths and weaknesses and no matter which one she's currently in, she's vulnerable. When she's teeny tiny, she's ridiculously overpowered, but also all of her emotions pour out of her for the world to see. When she's in human form, she's physically weakened, but at least she can put her walls up.

It's about the vulnerability....it's about the trust....it's about feeling comfortable with switching between both forms because she feels both physically AND emotionally safe with the people she's around. I wonder if she can ever have that.

I imagine that fairy Willow was born when baby Amity laughed for the first time, so the two of them have this intrinsic connection. (I know that fairies are typically born fully grown but I'm rejecting that cuz the idea of fairy babies sound cute) and maybe Willow used to visit her and they'd play together when they were little. A human girl and her fairy. And then the falling out between them happens when Amity gets older and becomes jaded and drops the "I don't believe in fairies" line that severs their friendship for years. Maybe it's Willow she almost kills. Maybe the Collector was nice enough to revive her. Who knows. Point is that the amillow stuff is messy. And then Amity returns to Neverland as a 14 year old and things are awkward and weird between them and aaaah.

I don't imagine Willow as a changeling myself. And I don't see her as a princess nor her Dads as kings. But somebody once did art for this AU where they decided that it was fun to picture her as being fairy royalty, so who am I to deny people having their own fun headcanons for this AU. I love that you're enthusiastic enough to have so many thoughts about it!!! Think whatever you want!! I DO love picturing fairy Gilbert and Harvey. What a beautiful image.

Thank you again for the ask and prompting me to think about my fairy Willow again. I love her so dearly!!

[yuriririnnie]

Us, On the Last Month of the Year

A/N: Happy New Year! Finally, a fic for my bias. It's mostly rushed and IDK how I was able to not post this before the year ended but here it is anyway.

Also, of course, I wrote this on my phone within just 30 minutes because honestly this wasn't something I was planning on making. I have like 5 stories pending for TXT and Enha but oh well~

NP: Huling Sandali (Tayo sa Huling Buwan ng Taon) by December Avenue

PAIRING | Choi Soobin x Female Reader

WC | 983 words

GENRE | fluff; f2l (duh)

WARNINGS | None

SYNOPSIS | Maybe it was him all along and even if it was obvious for everyone else, it wasn't for you.

--

"Happy birthday, Soob." you take his hand as you sat on the swing. It was exactly 12 midnight, December 5th, 2023.

Soobin smiled, circling his thumb on the back of your hand, around your knuckles, his eyes on yours sending a chill down your spine. It was an electrifying feeling, something you've felt before but haven't really acknowledged all these years.

It was the 10th birthday of his you've spent together and the familiarity of it all made you feel warm, a sense of security you only feel when you're with him. It was his birthday but it was you who felt like you were reborn, on this day, like something awakened in you, only now, just when he turned 23. He's been an adult for a while and you too. You spent an entire childhood together, witnessed each other's puberty, and went through the early stages of adulthood, but tonight was something new. You have memorized his every feature being so close to him countless of times though now was different. Physically, you've been closer before, sitting on the couch as you watched anime together, sometimes even chest to chest on the train during the rush hours, one time even nose to nose under your dining table hiding from your parents for when he was being asked to come home after spending an entire play day with you.

Soobin and you. Best friends forever you vowed on his 16th birthday. It has been years since that promise and you've kept it to this day. Now, hand in hand on the swing but at arm's length, you felt like this is the closest you've ever been with him. You looked at each other for a second, but it felt like eternities in his eyes.

Was he always this handsome? Did his eyes always glint this way when he talked about his favorite movies? Were his lips always this plump as he smiled, as he pouted? Did his nose always have that line in the middle that resembled a confused little rabbit? Was his skin always this smooth, and was he always this pale? Were his hands always this gigantic as it held yours? You knew he had dimples, but were they always this deep? Was he always this cute? Did he always have this effect on you?

You don't know at what point of the night and at which part in the midst of this friendship you crossed the thin line of being platonic to romantic. It was always just a tiptoe away, a teeny-tiny push from friends to lovers but never did you think of crossing it because the mere thought of losing him as a friend when you meet your inevitable break up (if you do decide to date at an early time) dreaded you like it was a life sentence. It was the curse you had to live with to keep him by your side.

"Thanks, Y/N." he said, still never letting go, still holding onto that grip you initiated when you plucked up the courage to jump; to painfully rip the friendship tape off of your chest that covered your undying, unplatonic love for him. He loved you, adored you, endured every relationship you guys ever had that wasn't with each other. All that for this very moment, the day you decided to finally break out of that shell and dive into the pool of love.

"I love you, Soobin." your breath was visible in the cold night air. You've said this to him before, but never in this way. And he immediately knew the difference.

The temperature was low but your adrenaline was high. You have never been this brave and you regret the days where you thought you were at your most courageous because Soobin was always your source of strength, the walking talking post of hope, and all-encompassing security blanket you needed when you were afraid. He supported you all your life but you knew this was something you had to confess on your own. It was to him, for him, after all.

His eyes widen in shock, and you were ready to take back your hand, run away, and never speak to him again. The creeping possibility of a rejection rang loud inside your head and it was all you could hear.

But instead of a rejection, you see a smile. You see the gorgeous smile you've always seen before but this time full of relief, affirmation, and happiness. Back then Soobin always showed you how happy he was but he couldn't hide the look of longingness in the way he saw you smile for another. However, tonight, his smile was perfect. He was perfect.

"I love you, Y/N." he chuckled, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes water. "I love you as a woman, as my anchor, a lover, and a best friend."

All these years of being so dense and oblivious to how you felt towards each other came crashing down with just one night, one confession, one hand to hold, and just weeks before the year, your 10th year together ended.

You couldn't believe he was finally yours, and he couldn't believe you were finally his. On the last month of the year, on his birthday, you share your first kiss with your one true love, your rock, your everything, your best friend.

[cherlv]

˚ · . ENHYPEN IMAGINE # 1 *ೃ༄

LEE HEESEUNG

ೃ⁀ bf!heeseung x reader

GENRE ♡ fluff, romance, crack.

ABOUT ♡ your boyfriend volunteered to babysit your little niece.

💌 > hi! This is my first fic in tumblr lol! I haven't been in tumblr in a while and this is my new account! I hope you support me! It's my first time trying to write, so i hope you like it? Haha.

WARNING ◆ this story is for entertainment purposes only. Use of pet names, not proof read? Please lmk if i missed any!

Song of the day !

You're at a family gathering. Your mother invited you to go last week.

You watch as your nephews and nieces run around the backyard. You smile at the warm scene. Their smiles were never fake, just carefree. You wished to experience, even just for one day. Studying at the university has been really hard. Getting piled up with many projects, and most importantly your research paper. You still haven't— not able to think of a title. Gosh, this was a lot easier back in highschool.

Oh, you'd kill to experience being carefree again. You sigh at the thought.

"(Name)?" Someone calls you. You turn to see who called you.

Oh, its your mom. Your face lit up even more, you haven't seen her in months.

"Hey mom," you greet her, engulfing her in an embrace.

"Oh (name) you made it! I miss you so much," She says, you apologetically smiled at her, feeling bad because you barely put anytime for her.

"Sorry, mom. I've been really busy and I couldn't call you," you say, rubbing your nape.

"Don't be sorry, sweet. As long as you're doing good– by the way, didn't you tell me you'd bring your boyfriend today?" She suddenly asked, surprising you a little.

"Yeah, haha. He's on his way right now— oh he's here!" You point at heeseung, with a big smile on your face.

He approaches you with is arms opened wide, and you hug him tight. "You made it!" You say happily.

"Oh heeseung," you mother greets, "I haven't seen you too in a while!"

Your mother and Heeseung start sharing a conversation. You stare at them fondly, without realizing that you've been smiling so hard.

The family gathering ended after a few hours. You exchanged goodbye's, and hugged your other relatives.

"Mom, me and Hee will get going now," you say, "today was fun."

Your mom smiles, " I'm glad you had fun, bye (name). Careful on your way back!"

You and heeseung qave her goodbye, you were about to leave, but you were stopped by your brother.

"Oh, Jun-ho!"

"We're leaving now, see you next—"

"Wait!" Your brother cuts you off. "I need a teeny tiny favor to ask? If that's okay,"

You tilt your head in confusion. Why didn't he just asked this like- An hour ago or something? Not when you're about to leave? You mentally facepalmed yourself.

"Uh.. I have a business trip on Saturday day. Our babysitter quit on us the other day..." he trails off. Feeling a little bit hesitant to ask his little sister, who by the way, is busy with university.

"What is it?" Your tone was urging him to say it faster. Because you and heeseung really need to leave now.

"(Name) you inow I'm facing problem right now, and I really don't wanna bother you because you're busy with your studies," he explains, and you nod,

"No one will watch Ae-cha, I was thinking maybe you can watch her? It's really okay not to. I understand if—"

"It's fine Jun-ho. Just drop her of by friday." You tell him reassuringly, patting his back.

"Bye hyung." Your boyfriend bid him farewell.

You both hop in the car, fastening your seatbelt. The ride back to you and heeseung's apartment was calm and quiet.

"Babe, why did you say yes the Jun-ho's request?" Heeseung asks, his eyes still remained focused on the road. "Your major exams are coming up, I'm sure you need to study beforehand. "

"I know, hee. But it's been hard for my brother. He just got divorced, and I can see how this is taking a toll on him," you sigh, placing your head on the window, "and plus, it's hard to find trustworthy babysitters these days, and you can barely trust daycares too."

He glanced at you, seeing how stressed you looked. Heeseung understood your point.

Ping!

Heeseung has an idea.

"Hey, (name). Why don't I watch her for you instead?" He suggests, and you almost scoff at him.

"You're bluffing, I know you don't like babysitting, babe." You chuckle, and a pout formed on his lips.

"No I'm not! I'm being serious, I- I like kids!"

You sigh, "appreciate it. But no way I'm letting you watch Ae-cha." You say, trying to end the conversations right there. You and heeseung are very busy. You don't wanna trouble heeseung with anything. Plus, it was you who was asked to do it.

"Come on. You don't trust me?" He says teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"Ugh, stop it— you look so weird." You stop yourself from laughing. "I don't wanna bother you, okay?"

"Come on, you'll never be a bother. And you still have to do your research paper. I already done that so I got plenty of time to watch her!" He explains. You stop to think for a moment. He's right. You're thinking of considering.

"Are you sure though?" You say slowly, wanting to hear a confirmation.

"Yep! A 101%!" He flashes you a cute grin and quickly returned his gaze to the road.

"Auntie~!" A small voice calls you.

"Ae-cha~!" You mimic her cute tone, earning yourself a small pout. She's so adorable.

"Auntie will take care of me?" She asks innocently, looking up at you with glistening eyes.

You nod at her, and a big smile grew on her face.

"Hi Ae-cha!" Your boyfriend suddenly greets, scaring the life out of you.

"Yah! Lee Heeseung!" You smack his arm, earning a groan from him.

"Sorry, sorry."

"Auntie, who him?" She points at heeseung,

"Oh this is your uncle, uncle Heeseung!"

"Ooh! Uncle" she squeals, clapping her hands repeatedly. "I like uncle!"

Heeseung giggles, approaching her to lift her up.

"And— Ahhh!" They shout in unison, as heeseung lifted her up,

"Heeseung! Be careful!" You scold him, ready to catch your niece in case if heeseung drops her.

"Baby, let me handle this! Go to your meet up!"

[yourfavepookiebear]

Introduction (again 😭)

Requests: open (?)

I'm currently less active since I have exams coming up, so I'd rather answer any requests once my exams have passed. I'm gonna post my WIP soon, I just have to finish it first

Again, my only side account is @thepookiestpookiebear

Request Rules :

Character limit : generally 4 unless it's a group

I don't write incest, racist, homophobic, or that kinda stuff

Uhh I don't have much rules

I can write yandere stuff, I can also write self aware stuff

I write for twisted wonderland and genshin impact, and maybe tokyo revengers too !

And that's all, moving on :

Feel free to chat, I LOVE MAKING FRIENDS and i love talking/chatting ❤

If you don't like my works, just ignore them. If you don't like my account, block me. If I offend you somehow, either ignore me or block me.

I don't argue with people (most of the time)

I'm a pacifist, I have a teeny weeny wittle tiny eety beety bitty bit of anger issues

I haven't made a masterlist yet bc I don't know how to sorry

Do not steal my works, they are mine. Do not do anything with my works unless I consent to it, please. Don't copy !

Pookie, come and have some chai with me ♡♧ (or some coffee if that's what you prefer idk)

Hi pookies! I'm a beginner fic writer. I write for twisted wonderland, self aware twisted wonderland, and a slight bit of genshin impact, but mostly sagau. I'm a ✨FaLLeN AnGeL✨ /HJ SORRY 😞

My pronouns are she/her

I'm half European half Asian (specifically middle-eastern asian) my first language is French and my second language is English (chronologically), oh and I can speak in total 3-4 languages.

Edit: I have a lot of names and nicknames, so you can call me whatever you'd like, but here is a list of what most people call me, both online and irl :

Jess

Pookie

Pookie bear

Bear

KitKat

Jessica (rarely)

Cathy

Cath/Cat

Catastrophe (a nickname my previous classmates used to give me)

Sometimes even Catharina, or Catherine/Katherine

In conclusion, I have a lot of names and nicknames, so just call me whatever you'd prefer to call me, I just gave that list so maybe you'd have an idea.

Sometimes I'm dumb sometimes I'm smart, it all depends and varies.

I'm a girl, bisexual + greysexual (basically a biromantic greysexual). I'm a huge simp -> (edit: sometimes), and I like cute things.

I LOVE CATS

requests are almost always open pookies

Proud member of the pookie nation.

I will call u pookie or pookie bear no matter who or what you are.

I'm a pisces, my birthmonth is March. I'm not a huge fan of astrology but I do like astronomy tho

Subjects/topics I like:

Fashion, modeling, models.

Astronomy

Biology

Physics

Chemistry

Science (general base)

Philosophy (self-explanatory)

Edit : Sometimes history/SS too

Things I like/LOVE:

Vacuum cleaners ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤💖💞 (love of my life <33333333333333)

Food (everything except some seafood and mushrooms)

Cats (self-explanatory)

Cute things (self-explanatory)

Animals

Social media (sometimes, depends on the type)

My friends

My (new) classmates

My old school

Fast-food (KFC especially, OMFG I LOVE FRIED CHICKEN WINGS AND OML FRIED SPICY CHICKEN WINGSSS <333)

Chicken nuggets

Dried bacon

Bacon and eggs

Scrambled eggs

FRIED CHICKEN

Sandwhiches

Hotdogs

Riceballs

Tuna fish cans (canned tuna fish 🔛🔝)

Basically any food

Chocolate, ex : chocolate cakes, chocolate milkshakes, chocolate bars, chocolate tablets

Nutella/chocolate milkshakes

Writing (depends, sometimes)

Dancing

Ducks (And he waddled away waddle waddle waddle 🥲.)

CARS

Motorcycles

MONEY (no need to explain)

My extra-curricular classes (kinda, sometimes I also hate them 😞)

Uh, a Lotta things, I'm just too lazy to write all of it (it would take hours)

Music too

My personality type:

I'm ambiverted actually so it depends, so idk.

Edit: I'm an INTP pookies

Little details about me:

I could talk about food for hours. (It's one of the only things I like more than astronomy and money.)

I can't focus for too long.

I have a wild imagination (not in a bad way tho)

I love mostly everything, except for a few people/things that I still hold grudges to. (For a good reason tho).

I have a super packed schedule most of the time, it's mainly cuz I go to 2 schools at the same time, along with extracurricular classes, and both school's homeworks, and school projects

My hobbies:

Horseriding

Rockclimbing

Hiking

Writing (sometimes)

Reading

Studying (only rarely)

Jogging (but mostly cycling)

Track running

Cycling (every day, except for when I'm sick or not in form)

I don't like:

Judgemental people

Sh*t-talkers

People who have massive egos

Roaches

Spiders

Dirtyness

Dirty people

Dust

Unsanitary people

Dirty food

Dirty water

Unhygienic people

People who don't wash their hands after going to the bathroom.

Some things you should probably know if you're one of my mutuals:

2. Also not that inportant, but I try to be nice to people because they already have enough problems and I don't need/want to be one of them. Sometimes though I may be rude or mean on accident, srry.

3. I LOVE ALL OF MY MOOTS ♡♡♡

4. Also not important but I don't really think much before subscribing to someone, if I see a random stranger on the internet who has good humor, then I'll hit the plus button. Sometimes though it can be troublesome, since i don't really check people's bios.

ALSO this is my beloved creature that I found on the streets on a snowy day, it's my best friend now @farfarurfav

I'm in a lot of fandoms, mainly Twisted Wonderland, Genshin impact, Attack on Titan, Jujustu Kaisen, Honkai Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Sailor Moon, Naruto, Boruto, Assassination Classroom, Spy x Family, KNY, Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken/ That time I reincarnated as a slime, Obey me, Dark Fall, Etc etc and also I'm a manga, manhua, manhwa, and anime enjoyer and I also know some webtoons too !

ONLY Side account : @thepookiestpookiebear

Must read to navigate through my blog :

Tags :

See "#yourfavepookiebear" for anything related to me !

See "#pookiebear rants" for whatever rants I've posted !

See "#pookie talks" for me talking with people or just chatting and stuff like that

See "#thepookiestwrites" for some of my newest works !

For now these are the only tags I'll introduce.

for all the dividers ! ⬇️

Oh btw @cafekitsune , love your stuff

[linnetagain]

I have. Had a realization.

In-fic, it is Feb/March-ish of 2024. Gale is currently 29, Astarion is about to be 27. Hestia is seven-ish, and the baby was born when Gale was 21ish? Yes?

IRL, it is August 2024. I am currently 29. My sister is 27.

I am losing my mind.

I was a junior during the 2012 Olympics. Originally Astarion said that he was 14 when he skated to Golden, but that was when he thought his birthday was Jan 1, and skating season is usually finished by March, yeah??? So he would have be 13, little baby EIGHTH grader, teeny tiny child? Protect him????

And the Sebastian incident, he said he was 16, so that would have been some time in 2014, I’d only just graduated and was pretending to be A Real Adult, my sister was a tenth grader reading Julius Caesar and all that shiz, we were binge watching episodes of Pokémon on my chunky laptop like they were a line of crushed smarties on a coffee table and we had no nerve endings left in our sinuses.

Gale was 15 when he met Mystra, frickin 2010 or some shiz, I was still deeply uninterested in men as a concept at that point I’m ace but that’s beside the point so’s he, what were you thinking lady, I have a different sister who’s 8 years younger than me, when I was 22 the humans her size may as well have been INFANTS, who goes shopping for college boyfriends among incoming high school freshmen, you’re NASTY

Married at 19, okay maybe not so weird generally, that’s what my mom did, she’s fine, to each their own, but like that’s when I was heading into my first proper burnout, I was not a PERSON, absolute brick made of oatmeal, also I was still a TINY BABY, that was heckin ten years ago, heckin 2014, Astarion “falls” and Gale’s heckin legally bound to his heckin manager frick 2014 seriously who authorized this

Hestia would have been born some time in 2017, if she’s already 7 when the fic started in fall 2023, some time in March–September since we haven’t seen her birthday on screen yet, so absolute earliest she could have been conceived would have been like, June 2016, so Gale would have gotten the ultimatum in probably July or August, chest injury probably happened earlier that year, maybe March–Juneish if he spent a year retraining his voice and lungs and it overlapped with paternal leave post-Hessie, and Astarion asked “was that the year that—?” so his first baby probably died like, maybe mid-2015? That’s right when I got my heckin puppy. Gale’s son should be as old as my puppy dog. Jeez, Astarion escapes to law school right as Gale gets Metaphorically Orbed. Congrats Gale, you’re 20 and having the Worst Year Ever

Also, shoutout to Astarion for finishing law school in 3 years? Class of 2018? That seems so fast with like pre-law and stuff but I don’t know how the UK does it, also he’s a smart boy, GO, be FREE my son (sort of not really psych jk)

But also ugh living in a two-bed studio apartment for at least five years assuming they lived in student housing before that? How is your mind still intact

But just. Hessie. Born 2017. The year I started going into my SECOND major episode of burnout. Heck, do I know any seven year olds??? How old are my little cousins?? Heck, it would the ones who didn’t live very close, how big is a seven year old?????? My close friends have a six year old, but she’s usually doing her own thing when I hang out with them so I usually visualize her as so much smaller, I think I might be literally incapable of comprehending having spawned a tiny growing human and having them in close proximity to myself since 2017

Congrats, you’ve broken me

Yeah don't be fooled by Gale talking about how old he feels, they're both SO young and so much of the shit that they've gone through happened to them when they were literally children. Astarion was thirteen when he won gold, Gale was fifteen when he met Mystra. It's one of the reasons why that brief mention of Romeo and Juliet is so loaded, because Astarion is looking back and remembering how it felt like his whole world was defined by this one thing when he was that age, and how much has changed since then. How much more he's had the chance to be, and how he was so close to losing the chance at that. Also one of the reasons why it's so easy to write him being protective of Hestia. He can see Gale trying to give her a better childhood than either of them had and he's absolutely going to try and help.

[spacey-llama]

I've seen that you also have some hc for the MLJ crew, sooooo... Can I hear some of them:)? Or any JD4 coach too, I love the JD4 coaches a little more than the other JD lol

Also, thank you for eating my hcs<3 I'll cook more in the future^^

HECK YEAH YOU CAN! Now, I LOVE all the MLJ crew... but I basically just have headcanons for C3/Mickey. It's definitely not because I'm working on a fic with him and Mister Overload. Haha. Aha. Ha. I can only hope I have enough motivation to let it leave WIP jail.

Headcanons under the cut!

So! I think him and Mister Overload were childhood friends that drifted apart after Mister Overload moved away. I always thought of his civilian name as Wesley... Wes for short. He's got thick glasses when he's not in uniform! Anyway, they reunite when they're adults and THAT'S when they start dating. ;)

I think Mickey lives in this teeny tiny awful apartment in Dancity with Should I Stay Or Should I Go from JD2! I named him Hendrix, by the way. Hendrix is a typical, anarchist, stick-it-to-the-man punk. They're roommates! And friends! They always intended to start a band together, but it just never worked out. Hendrix wanted to make more abrasive punk music with political messages and actual meaning, and Mickey wanted to make stuff about hot girls (and boys).

Why, yes, he IS bisexual!

Oh, and, while Mickey is passionate about music, he's not the best at writing it. Good singer, of course, just not a good songwriter. Hendrix is a good songwriter, but Mickey doesn't want to sing songs about anarchy. So.

Mickey is very involved in the local Dancity music scene! Like, he knows of almost any local band you can think of and more. So, if anyone's ever wanting to see a good, small concert, he's a great resource.

Also, Mick's favorite kind of soda is cherry! He likes cherry flavored candy as well!

Bonus Maybel headcanon that probably makes more sense in my head: The version of Maybel that you see in Call Me Maybe is literally lines of code. She's not a real person. She is a part of that phone. Does she know that? No.

Now, she is based on actual, real life Maybel (as seen in the vs with Beauty And A Beat and... oh gee looks like she never appeared in another map). So, Maybel is a real person, she just also happens to have a virtual version of herself. Did she create Virtual Maybel? Did someone else create Virtual Maybel? Who knows! I'm still figuring that out ;)

I also think Virtual Maybel has access to the Virtualscape! I could go crazy about my interpretation of the Virtualscape, but that would be too long.

I don't know! I'm still kind of letting that headcanon cook a little. Gonna explore it in another fic... sometime...

But, yeah, that's me tossing a lot of random little hcs I have out there! Hope you enjoyed them! Also, YES PLEASE COOK MORE HEADCANONS! I may have said this before, but one of my favorite things in the Just Dance fandom is when people grab a character with no lore or name and they're like "This one is mine now" and make a whole story and personality for them!!!! Because that's also MY favorite thing to do with Just Dance characters!!!!

[mamuzzy-creates-stuff]

FEBUWHUMP 2024 DAY 3 - "Bite down on this"

@febuwhump

Daddy's little boy

Republic Commando fic (under the cut)

Word count: 480

Characters: Ordo Skirata and his "demon", Kal Skirata mentions

Warning: Mentions of sex

Character study about Ordo and his inner turmoil. In the books Ordo refers to his inner darkness and anger as a demon that needs to be repressed constantly. I gave this inner-demon a body. Child-Ordo. His anger. His jealousy. His overprotective nature. His desire to love and desire to destroy.

Ord'ika, that was so embarrassing. Calling you a little boy in front of a pretty girl. Now you can't come back here without everyone thinking, you are Kal'buir's precious ad'ika. Yes, you are. Daddy's little boy. The only thing that proves you are an adult that you are capable of growing out a beard, otherwise you are just a little child. I would say being able to engage in coitus also makes you a man, but every living breathing being with at least one braincell can reproduce, why do you think there are so many dumb people here on Coruscant? Well, Kal'buir says compared to you, everyone is a brainless pile of banthaosik. Daddy's little smart boy. But that's the thing with reproduction, you know who can't sire a baby, Ord'ika? Well... little boys. Buir's little ad'ika. That's you. Come on. Say it. Say it out loud. Say that you actually checked the bosom of the waitress and you are interested in ffffff- fffff... having sexual intercourse with that lady! Say it you don't want to be called "ad'ika" in front of girls! Say that you don't want to be Ord'ika in front of other adults! SAY FUCK, DADDY'S NAUGTHY BOY!!! Mind you, if you try, you will break Buir's heart. Break into teeny-tiny pieces. You will break his heart so much, he is going to be sick and die. Or gets aneurysm. Or a heart-attack. BOTH! All because of you. Because you were angry, you were so beyond control. Say you don't want to be "Ord'ika" and Buir will die, BECAUSE OF YOU. And your brothers will pretty much hate you for it. Worse, if Buir dies, the Republic is going to get rid of you. You will be the cause of your brother's demise. So in the end, you don't say anything, do you? He is smiling at you. He loves you, you know that? Daddy's precious boy. You pretty much like to be his precious little boy, are you? Being pampered and spoiled. Being the favorite. You won't say anything because you are afraid you will lose the ad'ika privileges. Like being by his side. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. He loves you. Daddy's dearest boy. Or... Maybe he keeps you at his side because he is afraid, if he take his eyes away from you just for one second, I'm going to come out and wreck havoc in your name. You are ugly when I take over your body. You are ugly when you are angry. How can you be a good boy, when you are angry? Daddy's dearest psychopath. But hey. Buir is going to forgive you until you play along. Being his little boy who needs saving. Rescuing like an abandoned, wretched mog. After all, you don't want to lose the only safest anchor in your life, do you? Then remain silent. Daddy's little boy.

The angry child in ourselves sometimes needs a hug. A big one.