#but thank u for the ask radio!! always appreciated <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[whimsicalcotton]

Radio Anon — Now obsessed the Apparition of Rachel Amber That May or May Not Be Real, may you please elaborate upon the concept

[voice of someone with category 5 brainrot] Of Course,

basically i listened to Anybody Else by Dom Fera (mv is really silly but still somehow amberfield flavored) one too many times and started thinking about timelooper Max being Literally haunted by Rachel. but like Heathers The Musical style where you're left wondering if ghosts actually exist in this universe or if your protag just really needs a nap.

it probably started after a few loops (aka few weeks w barely any sleep) and so Max has no idea if there's actually a dead girl hanging around her dorm or if she's been digging in the junkyard one too many times and now she's tipped over the line into guilt hallucinations. hence The Apparition That May or May Not Be Real. usually Max will spot either the deer or Rachel herself lurking around blackwell/hanging around Chloe. the ghost deer form is pretty much the same as canon but i've yet to decide where she falls on the 'oh that's just a person' -> 'holy shit 4k bloody mary' ghost-scariness spectrum. probably depends on what kinda state Max is in when she sees her.

i also haven't decided whether they talk to each other. like Max definitely talks to Rachel but i don't know whether i want the angst of her not being able to hear anything Rachel says back or if i want full Chandler-mode Rachel providing ridiculous/unhelpful commentary on everything going down and exercising her skills as a one woman greek chorus.

that's all i have for the moment! here are a few scribbles also bc she's been on my mind lol

[allastoredeer]

I read the new chapter of Holy Suffering as soon as it came out and I love the way u write Lucifer. For the past few days I have been reading Radio apple fanfic and I hate how lucifer is portrayed in most of them, shy , innocent with Alastor after the fight, and kinda out of character for the both of them, cause they suddenly like each other, and I don’t see it in them. They like to piss each other off, that’s the whole ship point.

Ur Lucifer is so sassy, Hits all the Good Characterization checks in my brain, he’s such a delight to read, same for Alastor. U had me going speechless most of the time Alastor spoke, cause I honestly didn’t know what he was gonna say next. Writing Alastor it’s probably hard, cause he is misterious and always hides his emotions but You totally nailed it. Right now he is probably angry at Lucifer cause he ratted him out lol

Al be like the audacity of this man after he forced him to do this.🙄

Anywhizzle I just wanted to ask, for the overload meeting, is Charlie gonna send Lucifer with Alastor? Maybe as a snake or something, to make sure is he okay. Cause she really sounded mortified that she didn’t notice that Alastor was suffering and man Al definitely didn’t like that, but it’s not like he can say no to Charlie so

A nd is there like a schedule for next updates? I am really invested in this story and I honestly can’t wait to read more of it.

Thank you ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Hahah Lucifer's got bite to him, for sure. He doesn't come off as the shy type to me. Awkward as hell, certainly. In the throes of depression, absolutely. And he cares about Charlie's opinion of him to a fault. But when it comes to someone throwing their weight around--or, more accurately, getting involved with Charlie (cough Alastor helping Charlie with the hotel, couch Adam fighting/hurting Charlie cough) he isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty.

Alastor is hard to write ಥ_ಥ I love him so much, but sometimes, I want to cut open his head and properly study his brain because f;knslnjsbj out of all the characters, he's the hardest for me to pin down, in terms of both dialogue and actions. He has such a way of talking, and such a distinct voice (his radio filter) that it's simultaneously easy to imagine his voice, but hard to put it to dialogue. So, I really appreciate hearing that I nailed it (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) Seriously, it's so appreciated to hear.

Nah, Alastor is going to be going to that one alone :3 It's going to be set in his POV, so we'll get some insight in his thoughts on the whole thing, and how he's handling his current affliction. I'm both excited to and nervous to get into it, because writing him in someone else's POV is hard, so writing him in his OWN POV is a little intimidating, but I'm mostly excited. I have a lot of thoughts for this series, and it's gonna be fun to explore them.

As for a schedule, I used to try to keep myself to one, and I've found that I have both a love/hate relationship with it. One the one hand, keeping a writing schedule is nice because it gives me a clear view of what I want to work on and an goal date to get it done, which is very nice for my ADHD brain.

BUT, on the other hand, when I start putting that pressure on myself to get it down, and I fail to actually reach that goal, it hits me pretty hard and it can take away my motivation and joy in writing the fic. It starts to feel more like a chore than a fun hobby I can do in my downtime.

Thankfully, I am DEEP in Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation, and the amazing feedback I've gotten from my fic's is certainly fueling my motivation. So thanks to everyone leaving kudos and comments! It's seriously so helpful and I cherish ever single one of them.

If I had to give an estimate for when the next installment of the series will drop, I'd say either at the end of this week, or the beginning/middle of next week. I have an unrelated AppleRadio one-shot I want to bust out before I work on the next installment, and that one I'm going to try and post by Thursday or Friday.

To quote out favorite Radio Demon,

~Stay Tuned

[foliejpg]

why do you like champion? genuine question, it feels so lyrically and musically weak to me

i think that fans can sometimes put a lot of pressure on the lyrics and are so vehemently opposed to words that aren’t like. a long as metaphor ya know sometimes it can be simple while being meaningful

to me it’s sort of in the same vein of ‘the kids aren’t alright’ in that it’s very hopeful to me that special way fob is so good at. its a solo fight song i guess along the lines of centuries. it’s a very encouraging song to me that i think is a great intro to the themes in stardust.

smfs to me is the constant struggle of things should be better and even though they are better, better isn’t what it’s expected to be. it was all a fake out, i thought it’d get better i thought i knew better, i used to be a real go getter, the only thing i do is sit around and kill time, if i can do this i can do anything, life is just a game im stuck in a lonely loop.

i’ve always said mania and smfs are sister albums, two sides of a conversation being had by one person, specifically a bipolar person going through a manic and depressive episode respectively, and i think champion is actually a great example of the narrator trying to encourage themselves out of a frustrated, uneventful and unproductive rut. they’ve got a rage everyday, a built up energy that they can’t focus on anything except to try and blow out a pilot light, presumably by putting their head in an oven.

the ending also really reminds me of the end of the smfs title track, the theatrics and crescendo of the last line he sings ending high. patrick’s vocals shine when he does runs like that and ive always talked about how my favorite thing about his vocals is the unrelenting passion in everything he does, especially when there’s a drama to the music. it’s a song thats easy to believe in if that makes sense

i think it’s a much better song than fans give it credit for because it’s a radio single and i will never say that someone HAS to enjoy every single fob song to be a real fan, i just think champion is one that hasn’t been given the chance it deserves. i think in a few years or so, or if it ever returns to the setlist, tides will change and ppl will appreciate it for the simple anthem fob has always been so good at creating and giving us

sorry this got long i have no control thank u for asking anything to talk about mania and stardust parallels<3

[captain-mj]

Hey u got anything for backrooms and the bois?

pls and thank you

So I cannot find any proof of this but I swear there used to be a way of getting into the backrooms where basically if you're very depressed/dissociative you can walk directly into it without the no clipping, but I cannot find it. Regardless, that's used here.

By the way, from Soap's pov. If I make a pt 2, it’ll be from Ghost’s

~~~~

Soap was with the 141 and Los Vaqueros the day it happened. He watched Ghost look through the room they were in quietly. Everyone was there. Everyone was watching.

That's what he thought of every day since it happened. Everyone was watching. He wasn't crazy.

Ghost had stepped away, still in sight. Price gave them instructions. Ghost went ahead. He turned around a corner.

Everyone saw him go around that corner. Soap was two steps behind. Ghost went out of sight. Soap should've seen him on the second step.

He was gone. The hallway was completely straight after that corner. Yellow walls with harsh yellow lights. No windows. No doors. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Soap remembered staring at it before screaming Ghost's name. Suddenly, he didn't really care if they were overheard. Everyone had freaked out when they heard him. Were even more freaked out when they saw why.

Six hours.

Six hours he searched that entire building. The hallway led to a room and it looped around, the entire building shaped a bit like an O. A giant fucking circle that he could walk until his feet bled and it still wouldn't lead him to Ghost again.

It replayed in his head. The brief second before Ghost turned away. He had looked at Johnny. Something had been bothering him that day, but Soap had decided to wait until they were home at base to ask. Maybe Ghost would've stayed closer to him or Price. They would've seen something.

He really wished he had asked. Had told Ghost to wait up. Ghost got annoyed when he did that, but he'd still be there. Still be...

Instead of wherever he was.

It didn't make sense.

After the third hour, Price had given them permission to start ripping up floorboards and bash in the walls. The building was going to abandoned anyway.

Fucking nothing.

No secret rooms.

No secret passages.

Ghost was good. But even he couldn't just vanish. He couldn't have moved fast enough.

Price had started calling for him. He clicked on his radio and kept calling. Feedback was all he got for the efforts.

Soap was seconds away from falling apart every step of the way. The wrong push and he thinks he'd start screaming again.

They searched the surrounding area, but that was even more pointless. Soap knew something... wrong had happened. Something unnatural. But he had no way to explain it.

Price made phone calls while Gaz torched the building. That wasn't protocol. Maybe Captain hoped Ghost would come out with some explanation.

Soap hadn't slept much.

If Ghost had died, he accepted it would hurt. Hurt like fucking hell. Crush him to dust.

Somehow, this was worse. The not knowing.

Where the fuck could Ghost be?

It had been two weeks since that incident. They had been put on leave for a while. Price was worried about everyone. Reasonably so.

Alejandro had been oddly quiet about the whole thing. According to Rodolfo, he had been in contact with some officials he knew, but he didn't tell Rudy. Rodolfo admitted to Soap he didn't feel as hurt as he probably should. He told Soap he knew there was something else here. Something else to this disappearance that made him unsettled.

Soap wondered if he was having nightmares too.

Had to 've he supposed. Soap didn't sleep enough for him.

Ghost's room had been cleaned out after 3 days of being MIA. Just 3. Like the man didn't fucking matter.

Soap had grabbed his knives and one of his masks. Kept one of the former under his pillow and the latter always nearby.

It didn't smell like Ghost anymore.

Gaz slept on his floor some nights. He appreciated it until Gaz admitted he was worried by being alone, he'd disappear too. Or that Soap would. Soap laid on the floor with him that night.

Maybe it was stupid. To be so worked up about this. But even Price had been effected. Soap noticed him no longer working in his office. Always out in common rooms where someone could see him.

Soap sighed and closed his eyes to try sleeping.

Click.

His eyes flew back open. "Gaz?"

"You heard it too?"

Soap sat up slowly, looking at his radio. He left it on their channel. Didn't make sense to anymore honestly.

"Think its picking something up? Feedback or some radio station?" Gaz sat up, staring at it.

"Is there anyone there?" Ghost sounded... tired. So very, very tired. But there.

Soap took a deep breath and reached over, pressing the button. "Simon?"

"Johnny? Where am I?"

[stevebabey]

𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ! - this celebration is closed!

hello my beloveds, i recently hit a bonkers milestone so ofc, i would love to celebrate with u all !! whether you’re new here or a long time follower, i’m so v glad to have u here in my corner of the internet :’) mucho thank u’s and too many mwah’s to count, just know i’m giving u all a big sloppy kiss <3

now, without further ado, i humbly invite you along for 6 days (from the 16th - 22nd of jan) of ruby’s very own tour of hawkins, indiana :)

you’re new in town, you say? hmm, you might like to head to STARCOURT MALL; it’s best and brightest in the town! seriously, it’s filled w some very fancy stuff, there’s something for everyone, believe me

alongside a🍦emoji, send in your favourite fics, favourite authors, really anyone you want to shout out and think deserves sum appreciation ! this is just to spread some love :’) and hey, if u send ur own fic on anon, i ain’t gone be none the wiser hehe

or maybeee, you’re more of a hopeless romantic like me and would prefer a trip to LOVER’S LAKE: whether for first time dates or late night make-outs — looking at you, harrington 👀 — all good romance blooms lakeside

alongside a ❤️‍🔥 emoji, send in some blurb requests! [one] [two] [three] [four] [five] <- these are some prompt lists but they’re not required :) remember to tell me what list u got ur prompt from!

okay, neither of those pique your interest? well, FAMILY VIDEO is great for curing boredom! and the staff are easy on the eyes as well, which totally helps

alongside a 📽 emoji, send in thoughts and concepts hehehe - any genre, any length. you can even go behind the beaded curtain to the 18+ stuff if u want (sfw or nsfw allowed)

oh, there’s also the RADIO SHACK, though it’s a bit run down. probably only go in there if you’re a mutual i reckon, just to be safe

mutuals, send in a 🎧 and i’ll assign u a song from my music + some lovely words from me

oh dude, i forgot to say! i got us invited to a legendary STEVE HARRINGTON PARTY🕺🏻we’re gonna play all the classic party games it’s gonna be totally tubular

you guys know these ones :D fmk, this or that, cast your mutuals, any ask game ur pretty lil head can come up with + if you’d like, tell me what 80s song you love the most and wish would play at parties (i’m always lookin for more hehe)

i sincerely hope you enjoy your stay in hawkins! MWAH, ruby x

(some do’s and don’t’s for requests are below the read more if you’re on the fence about an idea !)

i’m pretty vanilla in all senses: no non-con/dubcon, no pregnancy, no hard kinks, no x reader for anyone besides steve, no steddie x reader, that’s about it :)

as this is a follower celebration, it is intended to be for followers of the blog <3 i ask that if you’d like me to put the time & effort into writing something for u, mayhaps u shud follow if you don’t already :D idk i’m not a cop and technically nothin bad will happen if u don’t but u shouldn’t :) ok

if i don’t respond to your ask, i’m probably working away at it but also hey, it just might not scratch my brain. i’ll do my best to get them all written but absolutely no promises.

tagging sum mutuals <3

@hawkinsindiana​ @spideystevie​ @harringtonbf​ @familyvideostevie​ @sanguineterrain​ @katsu28​ @stvharrngton​ @sunshinesteviee​ @plainemmanem​ @teenbiology​ @stevestummy​ @augustslippedavvay​ @husbandharrington​ @joellkeeny​ @keeryshouse​ @sparklingsin​​

[harrylights]

doing my due diligence by coming and askin u now !!!

strawberry, cherry, imperial 🌹

hehe thank uuuu <3

strawberry: what album would I love to have on vinyl? so tonight that i might see by mazzy star 🤓

cherry: thoughts on mainstream music? to each their own but last time i was forced to listen to mainstream radio tunes soooo much of it had lyrics that were so obviously written about an unhealthy relationship and that part bugs me but other than that, not always my thing but i can appreciate a banger when i hear one

imperial: what film, in my opinion, has the best cinematography and/or special effects? i’m terrible bc i rarely watch movies anymore but does howls moving castle count?? like the mountains and the meadows in there are just 😤👌🏻 i DO cry every time i watch it which is at least once a year lmao

shades of red asks <3

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a place called home

© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3

word count: 1.206 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.

As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.

You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.

“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.

You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.

“He looks good, uh?”

“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.

“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.

“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.

“Wait! Lemme help”.

The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.

“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.

“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.

Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.

“He— Hey, wait”.

“Uh?”

“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”

Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.

“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.

The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.

After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.

“It’s good to have a home to come back”.

“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”

“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.

Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.

For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)

Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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[frogboyandzombieface]

Ok ok for your fic prompt request- Another Byler fight but this time with a love confession 👀 :))

a03 link above ^

words: 7059

summary: Mike travels all the way to California only to ignore Will all over again, repeating the previous summer. But there's more reasons than he's letting on this time.

author's note: hii everyone thank u to @novalunosiss for giving me this prompt it was so much fun to write !!! i tried out present tense which was weird for me but i hope u guys like it nonetheless djhsfdkj i dont write oneshots often so sorry if this is like clumsy or something . anyways let me know what u think, rbs seriously appreciated !!! <3

(title from fake plastic trees by radiohead (a hella byler song from mikes perspective imo)

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

Mike’s been ignoring him again.

And, look - he’s not trying to do it, really - it’s not out of malicious intent or something like that. He wasn’t like that anymore. He’d promised himself to leave how he acted last summer in the dust, and he was doing everything he could to keep it that way.

He’d wanted to see Will in person so bad it physically pained him, to actually talk to him and touch him and be able to view his soft, lopsided grin with his own eyes instead of just hearing it through his voice over the phone. Ever since the move, Hawkins had been a smear of bleached, tedious days that never changed, always dull, lifeless. His and El’s absence was a glaring presence in his life; knowing that the Byers weren’t nestled in their little corner in the house that had nearly been as much, if not more, of a home than his own on Maple Street, that he couldn’t hang out with Will at the arcade or read comics in his room and laugh at Mike’s terrible impression of The Joker. That he wouldn’t see El’s ever-inquisitive beetle eyes gazing at him, asking him a million questions about the music playing on the radio or what school was like whilst they lounged about in her room, in between their make-out sessions (which still made him cringe. He was such a try-hard). 

Which was why he was so eager to get to California during their spring break so he could see them again. The two most important people in his life. 

But when he laid eyes upon the boy that had thrown his entire life upside down (hardy har), leaving him lost and lonely like a loose piece of clothing tossed around in a washing machine, his entire resolve was abandoned and flung out the window. 

Will had been so excited, he could tell. Familiar hazel-green eyes sparkling in delight after spotting Mike in the airport, eyes that he’d longed for in hushed late-night fantasising sessions, unable to contain the grin forming on his lips that he wished, oh god, wished he could kiss. Mike felt the same - happier than he had been for a long, long time. Every inch of his body was basically vibrating with the urge to run straight into his arms like some cheesy romance chick-flick and hold him close and long, fulfilling his stupid secret dreams that he wasn’t brave enough to perform. There had been a rolled up piece of paper in Will’s grasp, possibly a poster.

He just couldn’t deal with it all. He was so utterly afraid of himself and how he felt, of his disturbing revelations over the winter, leaving him confused and like a rabbit caught in headlights.

So he’d skipped his gaze right over his best friend’s hopeful face and made a beeline for El.

She had been familiar, beautiful, soft and warm - he could’ve nearly convinced himself of his love for her again like he had last summer once she enveloped him in a welcoming hug, but if only for a moment. He’d seen Will’s face crumple into a sort of tired resignation, and his heart had ached, voices whispering cruel in his mind: you’re hurting him because you’re a coward.

Instead of listening, he threw an arm around El’s shoulders and refused to meet Will’s gaze whilst they walked out of the airport. 

The drive back to the Byers’ new house was incredibly awkward. Joyce had been overjoyed to see him, of course, and he found that he’d missed her; it was like returning home after a long day, in a way. Familiar and comforting, like El. Will sat in the passenger seat - which was a bit of a blow to Mike, but he deserved it, he knew - leaving El and Mike in the back while Joyce drove them home. 

Joyce had asked a couple of questions about how he was doing back in Hawkins, how school was going and the like. Mike had answered amiably, though rather shortly, his mood dwindling to a gloomy irritation at his own ignorance; though he wished Will would at least try and talk to him, relieve the awkwardness, because it was quite obvious to the others that there was something wrong between them again. Yet the boy was stonily silent, not looking anywhere except out of the passenger window. 

Their new house looked unusually expensive - not a mansion, per se, but certainly something that was way more lavish than their rickety old house back in Hawkins. Mike wondered if there had been a possible outside force who assisted. He didn’t care, either way; it was nothing compared to that old bungalow full of treasured memories. Cold, unwelcoming, barely lived in, despite the Byers’ best attempts to make it theirs. 

He still hated the fact that they had left. Yeah, Hawkins had a lot of bad memories, but it was theirs. They had grown up there. They had people who loved them still there. But it was too late now.

They had a celebratory lunch back at home; hot dogs and sandwiches, mainly, the four of them congregated around the dinner table, and Mike did his best to enjoy it. Jonathan was able to drop in for about five minutes to say hi, but had to leave since he was meeting up with a new friend of his named Argyle, or something like that. His hair was longer and scragglier than ever, and he noticed the bags under his eyes were darker than they used to be; Mike wondered how he felt being away from Nancy. 

“So, Mike, how is the rest of the party doing?” Joyce attempts to diffuse the tension that hangs over them, heavyset and crackling like sparks ready to ignite and set the whole place on fire. Just waiting for the first move.

“Oh, they’re alright.” Mike takes a sip from his can of coke, unsure what exactly to say - he glances over at Will, who sits opposite Mike and El, clearly trying to be as far away as possible without raising suspicion from his mother. El was eating her second hot dog, looking quite content, though her eyes kept darting from Mike to Will - she was definitely smart enough to pick up on the tension between them both. “Lucas joined the basketball team. Dustin’s the same, mostly. Max is, um.. still dealing with Billy’s death.”

Joyce tsks, gaze flooding with a knowing sympathy as she takes Will’s empty plate to put in the dishwasher; something they didn’t have back in Hawkins, if Mike can recall. 

“Poor girl. It’s never easy..” Mike can’t help but watch her - the way her hand clenches around the lip of the countertop, usually lively eyes blankly staring at the windowsill for a moment. She was thinking of Hopper, clearly. But as quick as that moment happened, it was over, and she clapped her hands, smiling genially at them all as she asked “anyone want any thirds? Tell me now before I put the rest of the hot dogs in the fridge.”

“I’d love another one, please.” El smiles up at Joyce; she ruffles the young girl’s hair with a grin and says “that’s a good girl,” before beginning to make up another one for her. Mike didn’t miss the way El’s gaze sparkles happily at the praise. He realises how eerily similar they all looked - the same soft brown eyes, shy smiles, and El basically looks like a mini Joyce with her similar haircut. It was like she really was a member of the family, instead of a random escapee from a lab who performed experiments on her that they happened upon. Mike still has trouble believing that actually happened, despite it being three years ago now. 

The rest of the lunch goes pretty smoothly, actually, despite Will’s lack of speaking: Joyce is concerned, clearly, and directs a couple of questions his way - he answers normally, for the most part, but never goes out of his way to speak. Guilt boils in Mike’s stomach like some foul broth.

Once it’s all over, El invites Mike to her room; echoes of last summer enter his mind, and he could almost imagine himself climbing onto his bike and kicking off down that familiar route to Hopper’s cabin, every time he ever got a chance. There’s clear anger in Will’s expression now at being slighted all over again, and Mike wants so badly to just apologise and return to him, return to how it had always been before El came along. But he can’t. Now that he knows… what he knows, he doesn’t know if he could ever stand being alone with him ever again. Will wouldn’t ever want to see his ugly face if he knew, anyway.`

It seems that Mike wasn’t going to be able to escape, though, because before he could follow El into the room on the right, Will moves in front of him and blocks his path. There’s an air of determination and barely-concealed frustration about him as he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, meeting Mike’s gaze head on with a single raised brow.

“What the hell’s going on?” He asks.

The younger boy swallows thickly, tries not to display the animalistic fright that tenses every muscle, poised to run the moment he gets an opportunity. Will has clearly changed, physically, since he last saw him in person - his shoulders had broadened even more and filled out, and he’d shot up quite a few inches, indicating he was probably going to rival Mike’s height in a couple of years. His voice had dropped even more octaves than it had over last summer, his jaw stronger and sharper now, and Mike feels his nerves sizzling underneath his skin like he was being fried from the inside out. He doesn’t know if he can keep his cool for very long around this Will, who looks so grown up and attractive and was that a new mole on his neck? 

“Um. Nothing. What are you talking about?” His voice comes out more defensive than intended, and that unfortunately prompts Will’s hackles to rise like they were stray cats circling each other, poised to strike.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Mike.” They both glance subtly at the half-open door to El’s room - if they didn’t stop soon, she would grow suspicious as to why Mike hadn’t come in yet. Mike’s thrown by the word ‘bullshit’ coming from Will’s lips, leaving him stumbling for a response for a few moments. “I thought we were done with this. I thought you had gotten better.” He hisses through clenched teeth, meeting his gaze imploringly. Mike’s heart thudded against his ribcage and in his ears, as if threatening to tear through his skin, louder than his own thoughts.

I’m sorry, he pleads desperately in his mind, I’m so sorry. I adore you. but he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead, he says: “I’m not doing anything, Will. I’m happy to see you, really, I am, but I’ve been wanting to see El too. She’s still my girlfriend, y’know.” Mike wasn’t entirely sure if that’s true, though. They had broken up last summer, but never officially got back together between then and now.. But it wasn’t like Will knew that. 

“You guys broke up, though.” Will frowns at him.

“Yeah, well- we unbroke up, or whatever.” He gestures vaguely; Will probably knows that he’s lying, but as the other boy opens his mouth to speak, El calls “Mike, are you coming?” And Mike takes the opportunity to slip away.

The last thing he sees before he shuts El’s bedroom door is Will’s crushed face, looking angrier than ever now. Mike hates himself. But it was the right thing to do. He just needs a second to… process. And yeah, you could say he had the entire winter break to ‘process’, but now that he was actually within Will’s presence, he has literally no clue what to do with himself. He feels so afraid all over again. 

El eyes him partially curiously and concerned when he turns around to look at her - Mike’s worried for a moment that she’d heard their conversation, but it seems that she hadn’t because she inquires: “What were you and Will talking about?” 

“Oh. Nothing, really, just saying hi.” He replies, rather weakly. Her room looks relatively similar to her room at the cabin - just bigger. She has some drawings she must have salvaged from the wreckage pasted up on the wall, a poster of Ralph Maccio, one of Madonna, and a few other things. There’s a few pictures, too - of her with the party, multiple with her and Max, some with her and Mike, and there were newer ones with her and Will as well. Have they become proper friends now? Mike guesses that they must’ve had to, anyway; they were all alone in a new school, in an entirely new state across the country. They only had each other, really. And they are technically siblings now.

“Nice room.” He comments, running a single finger over her desk - there was a 3d model taking up most of the space on top, slightly battered, of a certain familiar cabin surrounded by trees and a tiny policeman figurine out on the porch. 

“Thanks.” She responds rather shyly; the two of them gravitate towards her bed, where they both sit opposite each other, like the old days. Though there’s a considerable distance between them this time - El sitting up at the head of the bed, with Mike at the foot. His thoughts drift back to Will. He wonders what he’s doing now; is he in his own room, plotting how exactly to beat Mike to a pulp, or has he already forgotten about it and is now listening to records or doing homework? Maybe he’s spending time with Joyce? He kind of wants to know what his room looks like. 

“How are you, El? How’s California?” Mike opts to try and make conversation. He did truly miss El, and she’s still important to him. Just because he finally discovered his true feelings didn’t mean that he doesn’t still care about her. 

“It’s good.” He can tell she’s lying about that; her gaze skitters to the side and the corners of her lips turn downwards when she’s thinking of something bad. His heart twangs with sadness. He’d hoped that she was at least having a good time in Lenora Hills. “I’m getting used to school. Will, Jonathan and Joyce are nice.” She actually smiles upon mention of her adopted family, though. 

“That’s good. Have you made any new friends?” He picks absentmindedly at a loose thread on his shorts.

El hesitates for a moment; she then responds with a small “yes.” Mike has a feeling that certain events are repeating themselves. He kind of wants to envelop her in a hug, let her know that he understands, and that she, kind, understanding El with a beautiful soul, doesn’t deserve that. At all.

He instead endeavours to cheer her up with some better news on his side. “Well, the party’s certainly been missing you.” He smiles softly at her. “Max complains about being the only girl in the group now all the time, saying she has no idea how you stood us boys by yourself.” 

All her previous dejection flies out the window at the mention of the party, lips pulling up in a delighted grin, round doe eyes bright. “I can tell she misses you.” He adds.

“I miss her too.” She murmurs softly. 

“Dustin and Lucas too. Dustin has a long ass list of movies he wants you to watch, the connoisseur he is.” 

El giggles lightly, though clearly confused about what the word ‘connoisseur’ meant. 

“Are they… okay?” She asks eventually. 

Mike frowns. “What do you mean?”

“After..” She pauses again, tongue darting out to lick her lips. She meets his eyes. “Starcourt.”

Oh. Certainly a touchy subject. All the air flies out of the room, like it was trying to escape from the topic itself, leaving yet another tense silence that had them both shuffling awkwardly on the bed, indecisive on what to respond with. 

Maybe in the past, Mike would have lied and said everything was okay, everyone was fine and there was nothing wrong - he used to be so hellbent on protecting El, on keeping her happy and safe.. But it wasn’t good to lie to her about that. She was smart and her own person, after all. He could almost hear Max’s voice in his head berating him for treating her like a pet.

 It would suck, knowing everyone’s struggling; especially that El still secretly blames herself for the entire Upside Down thing, even though everyone’s told her over and over that it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing to be done. He wasn’t going to bullshit her.

“Not really.” He admits eventually. El purses her lips, gaze dropping to the floor. She probably knew they wouldn’t be great anyway. “Max is still incognito like she was after Billy’s death, but it’s even worse now that you’re not here. She mainly spends her time with Lucas, but even then.. not that often anymore. Lucas is super protective over Erica, more than before- probably because she could’ve easily died at the Russian base, and she knows everything now. Dustin is just trying to be happy, like he often does when things get hard. I mean, we’re all still trying to make it work, but.. yeah.” 

El stares at him sadly. She reaches out a soft hand as if for him to take; he stares at it for a second, before hesitantly taking it, entwining their fingers. They both smile at each other. Even if they weren’t together anymore, they were still friends, and Mike was glad for it. “What about you, Mike?”

“Well…” Flashes of countless sleepless nights with Will’s face behind his eyelids, sneaking out bedroom windows to go and brood in the darkness of night, stealing cigarettes off Eddie Munson from the Hellfire Club, avoiding Dustin, Lucas and Max because he just couldn’t deal with their pity and endless mental breakdowns over his new, um.. revelations come to mind. 

“I miss you and Will. But. I’m fine, really.”

His ex-girlfriend stares at him for a long moment - obviously not believing him for a second. She always has that uncanny intuitive ability to see through everyone’s lies, knowing when you’re not telling the truth. Friends don’t lie.

“Mike..” She begins, raising her eyebrows at him, but he deflects, palm instantly flushing with cold when he takes his hand away from hers. This time, unfortunately, he had to lie.

“I promise, I’m okay, El. Yeah, I mean, shit’s hard, but.. it’s not any different than before, really. It sucks that you and Will aren’t here, though.. I think about you guys every day.” He makes sure to meet her eyes, keeping his hands free from shaking or showing how he’s swallowing nervously at the idea of her knowing his secret.

She seems to relax at that, at least, sending him a warm smile and nodding. “Okay.” She pauses before slowly getting to her feet, holding out a single hand for Mike to take so he could join her. He takes it, standing up and brushing off his shorts. “Mike?” She asks one last time, slowly letting go of his hand as they stood in her bedroom.

“Yeah?” He turns to look at her.

“Know that.. I’m still here for you. Okay?” She smiles at him one last time. “You’re my friend.” 

He’s incredibly touched by those words. “Thanks, El.” He grins, nudging her shoulder slightly. “I’m here for you too.” 

The sun was ready to lay to rest by the time they had dinner. It was a much more enjoyable affair, mainly on account of Mike actually making himself engage with the family, and generally being back in their presence, even if he and Will weren’t on the best terms at the moment. Jonathan was still absent, apparently - he only hopes that it’s not a common occurrence. 

He couldn’t stop staring at Will. He’s sitting in the same spot that he’d sat in during lunch, and while his downcast eyes and the upset slope of his mouth revealed how he truly felt, he seemed fine: he smiles and laughs when El makes a joke, talks to both her and Joyce while they ate their spaghetti, and even talks to Mike during the small amount of times that they had to otherwise it would look weird. He can’t stand the space between them, though; they were supposed to be sitting pressed up next to each other, elbows and knees bumping as they pass each other the salt - something that always happened in the past. They were supposed to be laughing and joking with each other, sending shy grins and probably leaning closer than was most likely necessary and actually excited to be reunited again. That’s how it was supposed to go. 

But Mike’s a stupid, pathetic coward who can’t face up to his own feelings and in turn is ruining the most precious friendship he’s ever had in his life. 

The moment dinner’s over and Joyce is clearing up everyone’s plates, Will vanishes; presumably into his room or something like that. Even though Mike knows it’s his own fault, his stomach still drops and dejection floods his lungs like icy water, snatching his breath away. He has to talk to him. But he wants a moment to himself first, to psych himself up.. the fear was still overwhelming. El asks if he’s coming back to her room; he says he’ll catch up with her in a bit, and she acquiesces and disappears into her own room. It leaves him alone with the head of the family, who’s stacking the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher, cursing and muttering to herself as she tries to turn it on.

“Darn thing,” She chuckles once she finally gets it to work. Mike smiles when she meets his eyes for a moment before wiping her hands on the front of her jeans; they were decorated with quite a few patches, obviously having needed to be sewn over and over again. “I’ve never gotten used to it, even though we’ve been living here for nearly seven months.”

“Well, you’re better than my dad, at least. He doesn’t even try to learn how to use it.” He half-jokes. 

She laughs, and it seems to light up her whole face. “Well, you’re lucky you have your amazing mother.”

Mike trains his eyes on the tablecloth, the dark stain on the corner where El spilt some of her drink earlier catching his attention. Last he’d spoken to his mom, there had been an argument about his skipping school and bad grades and how he was ‘throwing away his future’. He can remember her anguished face when he basically told her to get lost. He has quite a lot of regrets following him around lately.. like shadows that will never fade away.  “Yeah.. I am.” 

There’s a long moment of silence after that. There seemed to be quite a lot of silences that day; but what the hell could they even say, anyway? Ready for the next inevitable supernatural terror to wreak havoc upon us? How did you deal with losing both Bob and Hopper within a year? I think I’ve been in love with your son since we were five years old and I have no idea what to do about it because I’m afraid I’ll lose him?

He suppresses a sigh. No good throwing salt into old wounds; he slowly rises to his feet, politely pushing his chair back in afterwards - yet, Joyce appears to understand what he’d been thinking because she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving.

“Mike?” 

He meets her eyes; someone he basically considered to be his second mother.

“Yeah?”

She smiles softly at him, squeezes his shoulder once before letting go.

“Good to see you again.”

He smiles back at her, a childish contentment thrumming in his veins like he was ten years old and getting praised for getting an A+ on his maths test. After his rocky relationship with his own parents, who still didn’t even know the gigantic secret his eldest children have been hiding from them for the past three years, it was nice to get some actual affection from a maternal figure.

“Thanks, Mrs. Byers. It’s nice to be here.”

With that, he strides away towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms, a new determination propelling him forwards. He can’t let this go on any longer than it already has; Will didn’t deserve to be shoved aside, brushed off and ignored like he wasn’t important just because Mike was struggling with himself. It wasn’t fair. And seeing his crestfallen face, that unfortunately familiar sorrow that was very present last summer every time Mike disappeared early with El and created yet another excuse why he couldn’t come to the arcade or the movies, he couldn’t stand knowing that he’d caused it. Will had already gone to literal hell and back, he didn’t need his closest friend being an asshole on top of it all! 

He spins around uselessly in the hallway. Where was Will’s room? Was he even in there at the moment? There was a door left wide open at the end of the hallway, but when he peers into the room to see large flannels thrown across a messy bed, obscure band posters and a camera lying lonely on the desk, he realises it must be Jonathan’s and tries the door to the left. It has that familiar NO TRESPASSING sign hung up out the front, considerably more scuffed than it had been in the past, and he knows that it’s got to be Will’s bedroom. 

“Will?” He calls out softly, gently rapping his knuckles on the wood as if being too loud would somehow frighten him away like a scared animal. “It’s Mike.” There’s no response. He frowns, tilts his head closer to the door to see if there’s any noise coming from inside. When he comes up with nothing, he slowly turns the doorknob and pushes the door open (he was extremely disconcerted for a moment by the lack of creaking that Will’s door always produced, like he’d forgotten that this was their new house) to be met with no Will, only an empty bed and desk. 

He can’t help but linger for a few seconds, though, curious coffee-coloured eyes scanning the room hungrily, taking in every possible detail he could manage. It almost looks.. the same, in a way. 

It’s bigger than his previous room, obviously - with pallid yellow wallpaper instead of the old-fashioned flowers. His bed’s bigger, though unmade and messy like it always used to be, and there’s an easel and canvas in one corner; had he progressed to painting now? Mike itches to run over and look at what he’s currently painting, but decides against it. He’s not that nosey.

 His old Jaws poster is still there, along with lots of other movies and music that he knew Will listens to, but there’s a new one of a beach with palm trees. The words The Cure are printed in yellow across the top, with Boys Don’t Cry along the bottom. He smiles softly, affection surging in his chest like a tidal wave threatening to crash over him. Even if it was different, it still was unapologetically, authentically Will. And Mike couldn’t be happier for it.

Forcing himself out of his sentimental reverie, the tall and lanky boy retreats from the room and begins to search around the house. 

He doesn’t find him in the bathroom, not the laundry or the lounge room (Jesus, their TV was nearly bigger than Mike’s!); he’s about ready to give up, to try and get some time alone with Will possibly tomorrow, but a tiny idea worms its way into his mind, and he knows exactly where he’ll be. 

After a few frustrated moments of searching, he locates the back door leading out into their backyard - which was the only thing that wasn’t bigger than their previous house, since it was about the size of a shed - and throws it open, a bit louder than was likely necessary. 

“Will?” His voice echoes into the still evening. The air is warm and crisp, not freezing, but the dregs of winter’s still apparent in the sharp sting against his skin, raising the hairs on his arms and causing him to fiddle with the sleeves of his t-shirt. The sun hadn’t sunk below the horizon yet, but it was on the cusp of doing so - staining the scudding clouds with pretty pinks, oranges and purples. After a few long seconds of scraping his gaze through the garden, searching, he spots Will sitting in the grass, back to the house with his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around them.

Mike’s stomach feels like it’s sinking all the way down his body to his feet, oozing out his shoes and onto the back porch like water. He hates seeing the tense line of Will’s shoulders, the short, angry breaths causing them to rise and fall faster than normal. He’s definitely still upset.

His initial instinct is to run the hell away and never have to confront Will or his … feelings for him, leaving him safe and protected in the darkness of the closet, where he can keep pretending he’s straight and in love with El and a totally normal, cool kid; but he knows that it’s stupid and fruitless. Because that’s not him, no matter how hard he tries (and sometimes successfully manages) to convince himself, it’s simply not who he is and he just has to accept it. Whether he likes it or not. And.. he does not fucking like it. 

He doesn’t know if he ever will.

Sucking in one last deep breath, as if to prepare himself, Mike descends the back porch steps and makes his way over to Will, his untied shoelaces dragging in the dew-laden grass. 

“Will..” He begins again, more tentative this time; he’s tempted to reach out a hand once he stops just behind his best friend - who hasn’t moved an inch so far - but keeps his arms firmly by his side, anxiously fiddling with the loose thread on his shorts again.

In one swift movement, Will jumps to his feet and spins around to face Mike, and he’s completely caught off guard by the unadulterated fury and hurt present on his face, curling his lip and furrowing his brow, his body nearly vibrating with it. Oh okay, so I’ve supremely fucked up this time. He thinks in despair.

“What the fuck happened back there?” Jesus, he’ll never get used to Will swearing like that. His hands are on his hips, which are jutted angrily to one side, and Mike almost takes a step back though manages to refrain. “Why are you ignoring me like it’s last summer all over again?” 

“I-I’m not ignoring you,” He stammers, his fearful, cowardly heart thudding in his chest.

“Come on, Mike.” Will groans, slapping a hand, frustrated, to his forehead before pinning him with a glare that could rival Hopper’s intimidating looks. “Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot, ‘cause I’m not.”

“I’m not treating you like an idiot!” Mike protests vehemently. Please understand why I can’t be around you. Please.“ You’re the last person I’d ever think was an idiot!”

“Then why are you doing this?” A splinter of hurt is clearly visible in his eyes now, showing where exactly all this fury was really stemming from; Mike could barely breathe seeing it, feeling like his lungs were being crushed by a ten tonne weight - knowing he’s causing it all, it’s all his fault, he was hurting his best friend because he didn’t know how to deal with his own feelings. “You never even said hello to me.”

“I-I..” He searches desperately for something to say, but he can’t. Will’s right. 

How did it become like this?

“But no, I get it, El is more important now. She’s your girlfriend after all, right?” All the fight seems to seep out of him, like blood drained from a wound, and he kind of curls in on himself, like he wants to be as small as possible. Unnoticeable. Because that’s who he is now, right? Just some passing shadow, ever present but never paid attention to. “Who am I compared to the superhero who saves the day?”

“Will...” His name comes out in a hoarse whisper, eyes squeezing shut because he just can’t deal with this right now, it’s too much.. 

It seems to stun Will into silence, though, because he doesn’t say anything for a good while. He doesn’t know what he does while his eyes are closed, but eventually Mike forces them open and meets his gaze. The other boy looks almost curious now, still quite upset, but he appears to realise that there’s more underneath the surface; that Mike wasn’t ignoring him just because he thought he was a loser and didn’t want to be his friend anymore. 

His attention catches on the way Will’s soft chestnut hair colours orange in the fading sunlight, reflecting in his wide, beautiful eyes and Mike adores him so much it hurts.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologises eventually. “I’m not trying to- to ignore you … I’m really not. It’s just- it’s so hard right now, I’ve got all this shit I’m trying to deal with, and I-...” He feels tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over, and he holds his head up towards the sky, determined not to let them go. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

Will frowns slightly.

“Mike.. you can talk to me about it, you know that, right?” He takes a timid step forward, as if approaching a frightened animal that could bolt away as soon as you make a sudden move. “You’re my best friend. I’m here for you.”

“But that’s the thing, Will! I can’t talk about it. I .. I can’t.” He throws his hands up to the sky in utter frustration. He almost feels like cursing whatever God is up above, watching down on them, but if life is supposed to be this fucked up, then he thinks that he either doesn’t exist or is a complete dickhead. “Trust me.. I would. If I could.”

Those words leave them in another pause - Mike slowly sinks to the ground, like this endeavour has been incredibly taxing, resting his head in his hands. Will appears to accept his answer, because he doesn’t press further and instead sits opposite him, crossing his legs neatly. 

They sit together in the quiet of the Byers’ new backyard. A bird trills loudly, soaring over their heads and disappearing into the garden next door. In the distance, a car starts up - someone calls goodbye. Even if their world’s been torn apart and left in tatters, the rest still moves on.

“El’s not my girlfriend.” Mike admits eventually. “I lied before.”

“Do you.. want to be with her again?” Will asks softly, hushed. As if they were at risk of being caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

Mike briefly sinks his teeth into the bitten flesh of his bottom lip. “No.” He confesses. 

“Why not?” Will’s head cants to the side, like a curious cat spotting a butterfly. There’s a new tension thickening the air around them now - not wrathful and upset, but nervous and heart-stuttering, like some new revelation has been uncovered.

“I.. I don’t like her anymore.”

Will doesn’t respond at first. His pupils swell like black moons the longer he looks at Mike, lips parting a sliver; it drives him insane, feeling like his head was full of helium and causing him to float up into the stars above like a lonely balloon. He wants to kiss him so badly. 

“Oh. I see.” He says eventually. The sun had fully submerged beneath the horizon at this point, the only source of light being the house behind them - the windows giving them a view of the lounge room poured warm light onto them like their own personal sun concealed in one space. Mike could hear a distant door opening and closing; Joyce’s voice greeting someone, and Jonathan responding. He must’ve just come home, then.

“Mike,” Will begins again; the taller boy lifts his head to meet his eyes, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. The older boy smiles encouragingly at him, reaching out a gentle hand to nudge his bare knee - it sent electricity firing like bullets up his spine and straight to his brain, fuzzing his thoughts until it was all Will, Will, Will. “I’m not going to pressure you or anything, but.. please know, if you need to talk about what’s going on with you.. I’m here.” A pause; Mike’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. Should he.. should he just go for it? Will continues: “Okay?”

“Okay.” He answers; his voice is a little hoarse from lack of speaking, and he carefully clears his throat. This is it. Don’t fuck this up, Mike, or else you’re done for. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Will echoes, the hint of a smile playing across his lips; it makes Mike chuckle, breaking out of his seriousness, for a moment at least, before he tries to psych himself up again.

“I’m trying here, alright? Just give me a moment.” He grins; his heart soars like the bird when Will grins back, and it almost feels like old times again. The only thing that’s different now is.. his feelings aren’t so strictly friendly anymore. “The truth is, Will… god, this is so hard..” He sucks in a strangled breath, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye to prevent more pathetic tears. 

“It’s okay, Mike, I’m not going to judge you, I promise.” Will scoots forward slightly, leaning down to catch his best friend’s eyes. When they meet, he smiles softly. “Crazy together, remember?”

Mike laughs, rather wetly might I add, though he’ll never admit that aloud. “Yeah. Crazy together.” They’re subdued for a few moments, then he propels himself to continue. He was determined to tell him the truth, regardless of what could happen - worst comes to worst, he can go back to Hawkins and Will never has to see Mike’s disgusting face ever again. “The truth is.. It’s always been you, Will.” 

“Me?” Will blinks slowly at him, looking almost.. shocked, as if someone could ever have a crush on him. Which was bullshit, because Will was utterly amazing in every single way. Who wouldn’t love him?

“It’s just.. I never really realised it until recently. It’s always been- buried, really, deep down inside me, but I never let myself notice it was there until now. Probably between Starcourt and you moving away.. That’s when I knew. And it’s been so, so hard because it’s thrown everything I’ve known about myself out the window. That’s why I’ve been ignoring you, and probably why I did last summer, too.” He slowly falls onto his back, mainly so he doesn't have to look at Will’s face, instead staring up at the night sky. It’s a comforting sight, and he felt like he could convince himself that they were watching over him, letting him know everything’s okay. “It’s still shitty, I know, and I’m not about to make excuses for it… but now you know why, I guess.”

His pulse is beating so fast now that he’s afraid he might have a heart attack; he tries his best to keep his breathing slow and calm, but it’s a little difficult when he’s just bared his soul, leaving it open and on display for one of the most important people in his life to examine. He only hopes that Will handles it carefully.

“Mike,” Will’s voice is like a siren’s song - ethereal, soothing, and his breath is snatched fully from his chest when his face hovers over his. His cheeks are flushed and eyes brighter than the sky above, his lips still parted like he was too shocked to close his mouth. “I understand.”

He huffs out a disbelieving laugh, but when the other boy slowly reaches out his hand to entwine his and Mike’s together, still staring at him with that look that’s making his head spin, he suddenly understands. 

Oh.

“Um..” He stammers slightly, trying to think of something to say, but Will only smiles softly from above and tells him it’s okay. Mike can’t breathe. He truly feels like he can float now, like he can fly and speed along like the bird that flew over their heads, and his stomach explodes with joyful, euphoric fireworks like some cheesy romance movie, his most desired dreams having come true. There’s just one thing that would complete it..

“Can I…?” He begins, holding up his free hand to cup Will’s soft, beautiful cheek, staring into his beautiful eyes and taking in his goddamn beautiful face.

Will knows what he means, because he nods slowly with a barely-suppressed grin, and slowly leans down; Mike sucks in a stuttering breath, letting his own eyelids flutter shut as he lifts his head to meet him. 

And, as he kisses Will Byers for the first time in the backyard of his new California home under a sky full of stars, amongst overgrown grass and lazy wildflowers, Mike feels freer than ever.

[pascalpanic]

Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two

Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic

W/C: 2.7k+

Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced

A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie

As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.

The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.

Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.

It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.

Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?

Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image

You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.

Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around

Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon

Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here

Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me

Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((

Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡

You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.

The last text was only four minutes ago.

Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.

Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood

Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.

You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.

“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”

“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”

“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”

“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.

“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”

You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.

Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.

Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”

You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.

He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”

Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.

Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”

Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”

“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”

“Oh, snap!”

“Shit, man.”

Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.

The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.

“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”

“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”

“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”

“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”

He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”

“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”

“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.

“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”

“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”

“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.

“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.

His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”

The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”

“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.

“Tingly?”

“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”

“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”

“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”

“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”

It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.

The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”

You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.

He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.

“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.

You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”

“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.

You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”

“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.

You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.

Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.

Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.

You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”

He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.

“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.

Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.

“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.

Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”

“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”

He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.

“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”

“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”

“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”

“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”

You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”

“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.

“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.

“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.

He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.

-

read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[ackerfics]

Hi can i please request a soft coffe date with Levi and after the date reader and Levi go in the park sit on a bench reader falls asleep on Levi’s lap or shoulder (u choose) and he caries her bridal style to home he just slips in bed beside her but he wakes her up accidentally and like he says sorry like so many times but she just kisses him and snuggles in his chest.After that they are both asleep.Love your works so so much!💕

best part  — levi ackerman

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: none, just fluff <3

— summary: it’s your first anniversary with levi and he made it a day to look forward to in the coming years.

— word count: 2.8k

— author’s notes: aaaaa thank you so much for loving my works, that means so much to me !! i slightly altered the request and made it a picnic date with some coffee on the side. i had fun writing this bc it screamed single in my face. [sighs] i feel like i’m torturing myself by writing these scenarios sksklfjwe anyways happy reading !!

reblogs are greatly appreciated !! 

Feelings were something that Levi couldn’t get a grasp on since he could remember. He was a stoic and reserved man, even among his peers — that was until he met the woman who made him weak in the knees. The first time he met her, he had to regain his composure when she gave him a small smile. The two of them were in front of the counter in the nearby café, with him ordering his daily dose of tea while she told the barista her favored blend of coffee. Levi remembered shaking his head at the unnecessary love for coffee — tea will always remain superior in his opinion. He apparently murmured that out loud, with the most beautiful pair of eyes shifting to meet his caught his heart and took his breath away.

Who knew that being regulars of that café and by visiting the establishment at the same time could make their fates align as if they were woven together.

Today was one of the rare times he had free time from university and the best part is that today marks their first anniversary as a couple.

Levi had no idea what to do. Since he was an absolute goner in the feats of romance, he tried consulting his friends. It was something he mildly regretted. Erwin was the same as him, always focused on academics that he doesn’t have any time for relationships. The fucking giant suggested he should stay true as possible in his intentions, planning just a small date that can fit their little world together — not grandeur at all, to which Levi slightly took note of. Next, asking Hange was an absolute disaster. Knowing that you shared a major with this buffoon, they announced to the whole lab that Levi’s taking you on a date on your anniversary. It was a good thing they don’t know what he was planning.

So Levi decided on a small picnic date, with food and drinks from the café you two frequented.

Everything was packed safely and securely in a basket on the front seat of his car. To be honest, this was the first time he stood the longest in front of his closet. Planning what to wear was a total waste of time but he wasn’t complaining about his outfit for the day even though it was similar to the outfits he donned every day. He kept stretching his turtleneck in the anticipation of seeing you after your lab. While he waited in the parking lot closest to your department building, Levi was scrolling through his social media accounts.

It always warmed his heart every time he visited his feed on Instagram, every single post featuring you. Hange said it was simp behavior and Levi didn’t talk to them for an entire week. (Well, after having a reflection at one of your dates, staring at you like you were his salvation, he concluded that Hange was right.)

A message appeared on his screen, making his lips quirk up in the smallest yet endearing way possible.

i’m going out of the lab now, i’m so excited for our date

Levi looked up from his phone, seeing your bubbly smile lighting up the parking lot. Even though the windows are tinted, he reciprocated your wave. He unlocked the door of the passenger seat and suddenly, the fruity scent of your perfume enveloped him in a warm blanket of comfort. The next thing he knew, his shoulders relaxed in a droop, meeting your eyes as you lit up at the sight of the basket.

“Hi,” you greeted him, taking the basket and putting it on your lap as you made yourself comfortable on the front seat.

Levi turned to face you and leaned forward, hands pulling on the seatbelt and securing you beside him. He stopped with only a few inches separating your faces, his half-lidded silver gaze going back and forth between your lips and eyes. After a few seconds, uttered so softly against your lips, “Hi, beautiful.” The feeling of your lips moving against his always gave him a torpedo of butterflies, today’s occasion only spurring the insects to flutter their wings that it felt so electrifyingly good. With a little swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, he hummed as he pulled away with red cheeks and a small smirk on his now shiny lips. “You put on blueberry.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a small laugh, kissing him again quickly that he pouted.

“You know I can’t stop when you have that flavor of lip balm.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes. “I thought we have a date to go to.”

“Just one more?”

You grinned at how clingy Levi was becoming. It was rare for him to be like this and every time he acts like a touch-starved partner, it was too much for your weak heart. You held yourself back from pushing his cheeks together and marveling how adorable this side of him is. Leaning to fit your lips against his, you gave him what he wanted. “There. Now, let’s go on this date you’ve been planning.”

Levi chuckled as he straightened on his seat. He placed a hand on the back of your seat, looking behind him as he steered the car out of the parking lot and into the cityscape. The whole ride, his other hand was covering one of yours on top of the basket, his thumb rubbing soothingly across the back of your hand. You hummed along with the song playing on the radio, missing the adoring glances Levi gave you every once in a while. Fifteen minutes flew by so quickly and the car stopped in the small parking area of the local park. The two of you got out of the car, Levi pulling your hand in his, and leading you to a nice spot in the emerald plains.

With both ends held between you two, the picnic blanket was carefully draped on the grass, then making yourselves comfortable on the laid-out blanket. Levi took out everything nestling inside the basket — some wrapped sandwiches, a container of berries, shawarma wraps, and a small tin of oatmeal cookies. You were starving since you ate a salad from the university’s convenience store early in the morning for your lab meeting. As each container was revealed by Levi, you were anticipating the moment you will have your fill. Your stomach seemed to agree with your line of thought, interrupting the comfortable silence with a low gurgle. Levi looked up from tidying everything, eyebrow raised in slight amusement.

You felt your face become warm. “Oh, shut up. I haven’t eaten anything since nine in the morning. I’m bound to be hungry after not eating lunch.”

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing the sandwiches in front of you. “Who told you to skip lunch anyway?”

You leaned forward, fluttering your eyelashes with an innocent smile. “I have you to bring me my go-to order in the café anyway.” You bit down on a clubhouse sandwich. Everything became light when your palate was immediately satisfied. You couldn’t help but eat the sandwich as quickly as possible because being hungry enhances the taste of food.

“Hey, slow down,” Levi lightly scolded you. “You might choke.” The next second, you were coughing after gobbling the sandwich in a new record. Levi turned to the basket and took out a large cup of iced coffee, handing it to you to wash down whatever was lodged in your throat. “Here, drink it off.”

You would’ve cooed at the sight of your favorite blend of coffee if not for your life on the line with all your coughing. Slurping the cold liquid until you felt your cough subsiding, you let out a contented sigh as you slumped against Levi’s side. You smiled when you felt a pair of lips brushing on your head. You took a drink of your coffee before muttering, “What would I do without you?”

“Probably die of choking. I told you to slow down every time you’re hungry but it will always end with you having food down the wrong pipe.”

You laughed. “I still have you to remind me that.” You looked up at him, catching the adoring look Levi was giving you. You took it as a moment to admire him as well. His eyes will always remind you of the stars, their silvery glow so bright against any source of light. A lot has happened in the year you were together and you were starting to wish you could paint your love in the most vibrant hues. Leaning up, you pressed a kiss on the corner of Levi’s lips. “I’m so happy it’s you,” you murmured on his cheek, forehead pressed on his temple.

Levi stared at you with half-lidded eyes, hand lifting to brush a thumb on the apple of your cheek. Your name dripping from his lips made your heart flutter. His throat bobbed, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something. Just as you were about to ask him what was bothering him, Levi dipped his head until his lips stopped beside your ear. He always did this whenever he has to say something that was meant for your ears only. You patiently waited for him to muster his courage, rubbing the hand cradling your jaw. However, you breathed out a gasp when he finally said the words that you were never afraid to tell him.

“I love you. So fucking much.”

You could only stare at his embarrassed face, surprise taking away your voice. On normal days, you would’ve teased him for the blush creeping his face, reaching his ears that had you swooning. But now, the sight of his reddened cheeks and restless eyes made your face heat up. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, the effect of your lover’s confession spurring your senses in overdrive. You felt so many things at the moment, you felt proud of Levi for voicing out his feelings to you and you felt all the love dedicated to him gathering in your chest.

“I know it took me a whole year to say these words to you and I’m not that great with feelings unlike some people you know,” Levi rambled, silver irises flicking at anything but you. “B-But,” he cursed at his stutter, “I really do love you. I’m so fucking happy that it’s you, too. You are so patient with me and I’m starting to think that I don’t deserve you.” He said your name again in that fluttering way that made your heart clench. “Happy anniversary to us finding home in each other. I want this to last and I hope you won’t get tired of me.”

“I would never,” you reassured him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Levi. I love you, too. Everything in my life involving you is the best part of it.”

Levi planted his lips on yours, kissing you like it was the last time he could ever do so. “You’re making me weak and I don’t mind if you do it for the rest of my life.”

You suddenly perked up; eyes bright as you remembered the gift you tucked in your bag. “I got something for you.” You took out a small black box and handed it to a wide-eyed Levi. “I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.”

A silver simple bracelet was placed on top of a small cushion, a thin plate connecting the two ends of the bracelet. Levi didn’t buy any gifts for you except for planning the date and it made him feel guilty. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at the piece of jewelry, his apology clear in his eyes. “I didn’t buy any gift for this day. Fuck.”

You chuckled, unclasping the bracelet and putting it on Levi’s wrist. Your fingers touched the bracelet gingerly, a wistful painted on your lips. “This date and you saying you love me for the first time couldn’t amount to what I just gave you.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You’re already the best gift I could ask for, a simple bracelet is nothing compared to you.”

Levi smiled breathtakingly before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting a series of giggles from you.

“Okay, now let’s dig in. I’m still hungry, you know.”

“You’re always hungry, love.”

“Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now eat some more.”

-

You look so peaceful sleeping with your head on his lap.

It was nearing sunset by the time you were getting drowsy. The food was already finished half an hour ago but that didn’t stop you two from continuing the picnic date by exchanging stories. You were in the middle of telling Levi your encounter with your juniors when you yawned. Levi suggested you try to get some rest after a busy week in your major, taking his advice with a hum as you laid down on the blanket. The cups and containers were all tidied up in the basket beside him and Levi thought that it will be getting late the more time you spend in the park.

He decided against waking you up so he put on your backpack, tucked the basket on the crook of his elbow, and slid his arm on your back and under your knees. He carried you carefully until he reached his car, slowly placing you in the front seat, and buckling your seatbelt. He kissed your forehead before putting the basket and bag in the backseat. The drive to your shared apartment was spent with Levi glancing at your sleeping form and the bracelet that reflected against the sunset.

Entering the apartment building after parking the car in the basement lot, carrying everything, including you, proved to be quite difficult until he reached the door to your apartment. Levi had to stick to the wall to prevent you from falling to the floor as he pressed the passcode to your and Levi’s living space. Leaving his shoes in the rack by the entrance, Levi padded to your room.

As he placed you on the covers, he realized he was staring too much with your bag on his back and the basket still tucked in his elbow. After taking off your backpack, he hastily returned to the kitchen to leave the basket on the counter. The events of the day suddenly entered his mind and a smile instantly pulled on the corners of his mouth. You were the best thing that happened in his life. You encouraged him to pick himself up after finding himself stuck in limbo. Your smile was one of the prettiest things he ever saw on the planet, which says something because Levi never described anything as pretty in all his life. (Except for his mom but that’s already a given since he would get a scolding whenever he visits home.) Sure, he was bummed that he didn’t give you anything for your anniversary but today will be one of the days he will look forward to celebrating.

That’s all that matters.

Going back to your room, Levi changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed with you.

Levi froze for a moment when you shifted your position, humming as you opened your eyes drowsily. You smiled at him but that didn’t stop Levi from feeling guilty about waking you up. He knew how much you needed sleep. He was a witness to your sleepless nights and caffeinated rushes so taking away the one thing you find solace in was shitty.

“Are we home?” you murmured in a voice painted with sleep.

“Shit, baby, I’m sorry for waking you up,” Levi fussed. “Yeah, we’re home but I didn’t wake you up because you’re sleeping so well. I’m really sorry.”

You only laughed, leaning up to kiss your lover. Levi poured everything in the kiss, opening his eyes slowly to the feeling of your body snuggling in his side. “I love you, Levi.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

He didn’t mean to wake you up so Levi laid on his back and pulled you closer until your head nuzzled his chest. His eyes never looked away from you, roaming and soaking in your peaceful features. You were easily the most beautiful person in Levi’s mind. How your eyelashes touched the top of your cheeks, how your eyebrows relaxed at the physical contact with him, how your lips quirked in a small smile at the feeling of him enveloping you. He could admire you all evening but his eyelids were already tugging downwards. Maybe it was the way your saccharine scent calmed his senses or maybe it could be the way you felt so right fitted to him like this.

It could be so many reasons but all Levi knew was that he had never felt so comfortable in his life, pulling him in a dreamless sleep filled solely with your warmth.

[junova]

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before,  I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

[eye-of-the-storm]

We know Fezco and Lexi both want kids! Tell us how many kids you want them to have and favorite names!

hi hello i’m doing the walk of shame onto tumblr to respond to this ask after approximately four hundred years of complete radio silence - i’m so sorry i didn’t see this sooner! anyways. to answer your question, i think we can all agree fez would make the most goated girl dad to ever exist in the history of girl dads everywhere. i’m talking ash giving him shit for always having his nails painted neon pink and lexi having to tear him away from being primped, pruned and covered head to toe in glitter by his very own personal mini stylist team at every given opportunity. as for how many mini stylists that team might consist of, you heard the man, they got three kids on that show. so i’d like to think in some universe, it’d be three girls they’d end up with to keep fez looking endlessly snatched for the rest of his days

i am genuinely terrible at thinking up names but i think they’d probably go for something classic and vintage-y…Brontë sisters x the Howard-O’Neill’s kinda energy lmao. something like elizabeth or charlotte or marie after gma o’neill. ivy because lexi’s a diehard swiftie send tweet. i also actually wrote a snippet a while ago that’s stored away somewhere in a random google doc where they name a daughter of theirs ruby after rue and she’s born with fez’s red hair lol

anyways, thank u sm for this ask! <3 i could ramble about these two for days on end so i appreciate u voluntarily prompting me to do so aksjsjjd. and again, apologies for taking my sweet time to answer🤪💛

[geminisholland]

Too late

this was a request, thank u so much to the person who requested this!!

a/n: wow, another actress!reader prompt i get carried away with! what a shock! i might make a part 2 to this if i feel like it, cause i think it deserves a second part! lmk what y’all think of that. as always, my inbox is open and feedback is always appreciated. love u, thank u <3 

summary: actress!reader is tom’s lover in the movie they are filming, but things off screen are a little rocky 

warnings: angsttttt and swearing

word count: 2033

join my taglist!

this was it, this was the big break you have been dreaming about for years. Your journey as an actor started a little over three years ago, and you loved every moment. what you didn’t expect with this journey, was how much time it actually took to have a significant role. you had gotten roles here and there throughout the past few years, but nothing quite like starring in a movie alongside the famous tom holland. 

you were so excited, not only because you had finally booked a big role, but because tom was your love interest in the movie. you felt a little weird about it, because tom was someone you had been a fan of for quite some time. you really admired him as a person, and the skills he has as an actor. 

The day of the chemistry reading with Tom was a nerve racking day, if you had no chemistry with him, you wouldn’t have gotten the role. everything depended on how the two of you interacted during that read. you remember the day like the back of your hand. 

you walked into the room, and was greeted with a group of people sitting down at a table, facing you. there were two chairs sitting in front of the people, who you assumed were the producers and casting directors. you had no idea who the chemistry read was going to be with, because everything about this audition process was extremely secretive. you weren’t even sure what movie you were auditioning for, just the characters name, and a scene to perform. someone sitting at the table asked you to sit at the chair, and you did as asked. you were really uncomfortable, you remember that much. the audition anxiety was quite prominent this day, you knew that everything depended on this. 

so, when Tom Holland walked into the room, you did your best to keep your cool. Which, for the record, was very difficult. 

“Hi darling,” he greeted. His warm smile spread across his face, and his eyes twinkled in the light of the room. He sat down in the chair across from you, then put out his hand. you shook his hand, you couldn’t stop staring at him. 

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” you let out, plastering a smile on your face. his hand was still wrapped around yours, but you barely noticed. the two of you stared at each other for a considerable amount of time. 

“i’m tom holland,” he responded. “it’s so nice to meet you, y/n.”

“yeah,” you whispered, not breaking eye contact. “you as well.” 

he dropped his hand after the moment the two of you shared. The two of you sat in silence as the producers and casting directors talked amongst themselves, figuring out which scene to perform. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, even when you were talking to the producer, and had your back turned to him, he couldn’t stop staring. 

the scene the two of you performed convinced everyone in the room that you were perfect for this role. You never knew this, but after you left the audition, everyone made fun of Tom for falling in love at first sight. He made sure to brush off these remarks, as he had a girlfriend whom he loved very much, but deep down he knew they were right. 

a couple of months went by before you heard anything about the audition. this part was brutal, because you thought that the role had been given to someone else, due to the radio silence. you remember talking to your agent right after the chemistry read, how you nailed it, and knew that you had gotten this role. instead, you had come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t meant to be. there was someone else with more chemistry, who had played the part of tom’s lover, instead of you. 

but then the phone rang one night, and you answered it to your agent telling you that this part was yours. that you would be working alongside Tom, and that your hard work had paid off. 

The long days on set were catching up to both you and Tom, you were struggling getting through your scenes with one another. everything you did, tom would have a reaction to. 

“I think you should react angrier to my line,” you explained. “i just think that would be more convincing?” you looked at tom with kind eyes, this scene was a particularly difficult one to get through. 

“okay,” he scoffed. he rolled his eyes at you, and you were certain that you wanted to punch him. 

“I'm just trying to make the scene work, Tom,” you shot back. He had been acting like this since the beginning, and your tolerance for his behavior was growing thin. 

“got it,” he responded. He never looked you in the eyes anymore, except during scenes. every time you went up to him when you weren’t filming, he would brush you off. sometimes, he would just walk away without responding. everything about this was so... cold. where was that chemistry the two of you had when you first met? 

“I'm going to get dinner, do you want to come?” you asked after the scene was finally done, and you had wrapped for the day. Tom looked up from his phone to look at you, then moved his eyes back down to the glow of the screen. 

“i can't,” he responded. you stood across from him, and shook your head. 

“okay.” you couldn’t even look at him, and just walked away before saying something you didn’t mean. you thought working on this movie with tom would bring the two of you closer, but the reality was that you barely knew him. 

“he’s just so fucking intolerable,” you informed your friend over the phone. “i will be talking to him, and he’ll just randomly put his hand up, and walk away to answer the phone. who does that?” 

These phone calls happened almost every day, because Tom acted like this- every day. there was still two months left of shooting, and you really could not see how you were going to survive this. you didn’t understand why tom was unbearable, considering his girlfriend was insanely kind. you loved when she was around, because she actually included you in things. she invited you out to dinner with them, hung out with you in your trailer, everything. you just really admired her. 

A few days later, Tom came onto set with the worst attitude he has ever had. every time you spoke, he rolled his eyes at you. your chairs were next to each other, and when you sat down next to him, he moved his chair away from you. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” you yelled. “this is getting ridiculous!” you stared down tom as he looked back at you, and his eyes showed a glimmer of concern. you were furious though, absolutely fueled with anger. 

“you could at least use your words!” you commanded. Tom fully turned around to look at you, then opened his mouth. 

“leave me alone, y/n,” he hissed at you. “i could not make it more clear that i’m not interested in building a relationship with you, at all.”

your heart sank with those words, even as an actor, you couldn’t pretend that didn’t hurt you. you couldn’t hide the pain that came with that statement, either. you sat in the chair, arms crossed, and stared at the set to distract yourself. you watched the crew move props for the scene you and tom were doing, and then remembered you had to do a scene with tom today. you sighed, you couldn’t think of something you wanted to do less than be beside tom for hours. 

“whew! the set looks good, how are we all feeling?” the director called out, then looked between you and tom. she stood there in silence as the two of you didn’t answer her question. 

“alright! it’s gonna be an interesting day!” she exclaimed, then walked away. “tom and y/n, take your marks! we don’t have all day!” 

the two of you grudgingly walked to your marks, standing across from each other, but not daring to look at one another. 

“let’s be a little bit more warm, your characters are in love!” the director called out, then called “action!”

the two of you “acted” in the scene, doing your best to pretend you were in love. you could hear the groans escape the director as you kept falling flat in your line delivery. 

“okay, cut!” the director yelled. “okay, wow, let’s take a little break, and revisit that!” 

you nodded in agreement, and left set to go back to your trailer. you sat on the small couch, and placed your head in your hands, taking deep breaths. you were so confused, you didn’t know what you did to make Tom hate you so much. you were always kind, and patient with him. always willing to go out of your way to help him out, and at first he was this kind, patient person too. Then, he started to close himself off to you, and then just grew hostile. 

you took one last deep breath, then left your trailer. you saw tom walking towards the set as well, and you stopped in your tracks. no, you couldn’t do this scene with him. not today. Tom had noticed you stopped walking, because he looked back at you. it looked as if he was contemplating something, but ultimately decided against it, because he continued to walk to set.

“what is going on with you today?” Sarah, the director, questioned. “this isn’t like you.”

you shook your head, you could feel the frustration and sadness building inside of you. 

“tom is just so fucking unbearable,” you explained, your breath growing shaky. “Everything I do, it’s just not good enough! He's so mean, too. He dismisses everything I say!” yeah, everything that was building inside of you for weeks was coming out right here, right now. “like, today i sat in my chair next to him, and he picked up his chair to move away from me! i don’t even know what i did!”

tears were starting to form in your eyes, and Sarah grew extremely concerned. 

“i’m so sorry, i had no idea he was acting this way,” she responded. you shook your head. 

“it doesn’t matter, he’s acting like a toddler right now,” you admitted. Sarah looked at you, then looked at Tom who was walking over to the two of you. 

“what the fuck do you want, tom? What is it now? are you going to yell at me because we’re behind on filming?” you shouted at him. He stood across from you, then shook his head. 

“Okay, let’s do this somewhere else,” he said. He took your arm, and the two of you walked to a more private area. 

“let go of me!” you grunted. “you’re such a dick!”

“okay,” he responded. the two of you stared at each other, no one spoke or moved for several moments. 

“is this your plan to make me hate you?” you questioned. “if you want me to hate you, your plan is fucking working!” 

Tom took a step back, your words definitely stung. 

“It was just easier to pretend I hated you,” Tom replied. you looked at him, tilting your head in confusion. 

“pretend?” your voice cracked, and tears started to stream down your face. “why would you do something so cruel?” 

you were hurt, so, so, so fucking hurt. you couldn’t decide what was worse; him actually hating you, or him pretending he hated you. 

“i got scared,” he confessed. “You made me feel things I have never felt before, and that really scared me. i also have a girlfriend, and i love her so much, but i was worried if we became close i’d develop feelings for you.” he paused, staring at you and analyzing your face. He brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping away the tears. “i think it might be too late for that, though.” 

taglist;

@zspideyy  @lilhoodhippie  @hollandfanficlove @th45 @lmaotshollandd 

[txtdiaries]

Void - Chapter Three

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 3.3k

WARNINGS | dark content, swearing, gore, weapon possession, etc.

A/N | So this hasn’t been proofread, but I hope there aren’t too many mistakes and u guys enjoy it anyway. Thanku for reading! <3 

SONG REC | Wires - The Neighbourhood

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

The sun is dipping behind the horizon, colors melting against sky as the car rolls along the freeway. The majority of the younger boys are asleep in the car, it is silent, and Yeonjun is stressed out.

Of course, who wouldn’t be? He almost lost his life to something that looked like it walked straight off the set of The Walking Dead. And Yeonjun has never forgotten his weapon - ever. It’s in that moment that he knows.

He has to get rid of the girl sitting in the passenger seat. Soon.

The silence is uncomfortable as he drives. Neither is speaking, and even though he isn’t looking at her, he knows she isn’t asleep.

After a few minutes of the silence ticking along with the minutes, Yeonjun feels like he is going to burst. And then, finally, she speaks.

“Listen… uh- Yanjun-”

“My name is Yeonjun.” The older boy sneers, accent thickening as he enunciates his Korean name, still annoyed. He realizes just how annoyed he always is with her.

“Right, sorry! Yeonjun.” He stays quiet, letting her go on.

“I’m really sorry for what happened back there. I may have overreacted a little bit.”

Yeonjun scoffs as she continues, “And I just want to thank you for saving my life. I really appreciate it.”

The girl sticks her hand out as if he’s not driving, and after he gives it a side glance, she retracks it.

“Maybe we can be friends, you know, work together?”

Yeonjun almost swerves off the freeway at 90 MPH.

“Here’s how this is gonna work...” He searches her eyes for a second, noticing how she sits up straighter. She replies quickly with a, “Y/N.”

“Okay, Y/N, this isn’t some fucked up stockholm syndrome situation. I didn’t tie you up and throw you in the back of my Jeep because I thought you were too precious to save, and I definitely didn’t do it because I wanted you with us. I did it because it was the only option, got it?”

The girl blinks at him.

“It was the only option, and at this point you’re just deadweight to us now, okay? We aren’t going to work together, and we sure as hell aren’t going to be friends.”

It’s silent for a lot longer this time, before Yeonjun hears the girl reply back in a whisper, “If I’m just deadweight to you, why did you save me?”

“Jun, where are we?” Soobin grumbles suddenly from the backseat, stirring a bit as he starts to wake up.

“Just about there, Soobin. Go back to sleep.” Yeonjun replies as he pulls off of I-86 and into what seems like the local college town of the area. He decides to ignore the girl’s question as he turns on the radio. Of course, it’s just the low sound of static, but it’s better than listening to her questions again.

The farther Yeonjun drives into the town, the more he starts to notice the tattered college flags hanging from the unlit street lamps, and all of the broken windows in every building they pass. As he drives with caution, Yeonjun can tell how eerily quiet it is, apart from the radio. He spots the girl looking out the window, and decides to do the same, allowing himself to survey their surroundings.

A few home style diners and restaurants dot the blocks they pass, along with small gas stations (probably empty), and a few fast food places as well. The road guides him to a gentle curve, and then he realizes that he’s going in the direction of an underpass. For some insane reason he doesn’t completely understand, the lights along the inside leading to the other side are on, and they guide him to something that is shocking for him to see. The underpass opens back up at the end in a way Yeonjun can only feel like exiting a time machine would be. The tunnel cuts off, barren and with the walking path fences on either side rusted and destroyed.

But that’s not the part Yeonjun is paying attention to.

The buildings are breathtaking. They are old stone, brick, and clearly had been worked on to keep their vintage roots. One of the buildings on the right has huge archway windows on the second floor, which the moon reflects off beautifully. The street lamps are winded with decorative mistletoe, but the ribbons attached are tattered and almost black. Yeonjun sees what used to be bars, restaurants, all different colors. Green, red, and a pretty maroon color. He’s almost sad to see all of this - to get a glimpse of the real world back in front of him.

The farther he drives, the worse it gets. The town is beautiful, and he can only imagine how beautiful it used to be in the world before.

“This is old town.” The girl says softly from the passenger seat as Yeonjun approaches a huge park, even more trees on display and decorative lamps. He almost thinks he sees a fountain before he looks back at the girl.

“What did you say?”

“Old town. Like, downtown. The original one for the city.”

“How…” Yeonjun is surprised the girl knows as his curiosity intensifies.

“I uh… I used to live here. I went to college here.” She clarifies, avoiding his gaze now.

The older boy is even more surprised than he was before. She looked old enough to be in college, but he didn’t even consider it. Someone else having a life before all of this, much like he did. He never considered it until now.

“Up ahead it’ll take you to the fairly decent houses, lots of cops and bankers used to live on this side of town, but the houses will be trashed most likely. The long road past that will take you up the mountain to the super rich houses on top. Those might have some food and supplies, but it’s more dangerous. The high school is to the right, but the college is back around the way we came. Up to you.” She nods, not speaking anymore. Yeonjun is surprised she’s even helping him, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Thank you.” He says awkwardly, turning back around the way they came. He figures the college is their best bet. More buildings to search for safety in, and all relatively close to the gas stations.

She says nothing as he makes his way back toward the college.

The drive to the campus is somehow more tense than before, and Yeonjun is grateful when they finally pull into the main parking lot, in front of a building labeled, Museum of Natural History.

“The SUB is up ahead.” The girl speaks flatly, and Yeonjun gives her a confused look.

“Student Union Building. They have an event center inside, super spacious, just incase.” She clarifies, looking at him again.

“Sorry, I just never went to college before this all happened…” He explains, finally parking the Jeep.

The parking lot extends to a walkway that goes under the second floor of the SUB, and Yeonjun finds himself parking there to keep the car hidden. It’s almost like the whole slab of the SUB’s second floor is covering the walkway for a few yards, and then connects to the neighboring Museum’s second floor too. Past the end of it all, he sees a grand cement staircase leading up to the side door of the building. It’s perfect.

He pushes the gearstick into park and finally cuts the engine, sitting silent for a few moments.

The smaller girl is still gazing out the windshield, eyes scanning along the huge quad slowly.

“Is it weird to be back here?” Yeonjun doesn’t know why he asks, but he can clearly see the girl is visibly upset as she has her hands bundled in fists.

Without answering, she unlatches her seatbelt, swings open the door, and steps into the cold. After her feet hit the ground and she slams the door closed, the rest of the boys in the back groggily come to.

“We’re here.” Yeonjun sighs, turning on the upper light and pocketing the keys, “Grab your stuff, we’re setting up camp for the night.”

And then he’s getting out of the car himself, slamming his door and heading for the trunk.

“Hyung look, there’s a giant tiger statue back there!” Kai says with excitement, motioning back through the door they just came in through.

“It’s a Bengal.” Y/N corrects the youngest boy before leading the group farther in the empty building. The inside is pitch black, but the moonlight allows Yeonjun to see their surroundings, just barely.

To their right there is a huge staircase leading to the lowest level of the building, and a long hallway filled with multiple tables and chairs, like a huge eating area. Next to the help desk in front of them, small restaurants are grouped side by side as the window parallel shines even more light on all of the walls. The girl drags them to the left, taking them toward the offices and hallway that lie ahead.

“Fuck.” She says when she finally sees the door. It is bolted shut, with wooden planks and furniture piled against it. There is no way they’re getting in.

“Plan B?” Yeonjun asks annoyingly, making the girl brush past him, feet stomping along the way.

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” She snaps as she drags them back past all the small food places, leading them toward a staircase near the side of the building. Yeonjun can’t help but make another snarky comment at her. Soobin laughs under his breath. The youngest boys look shocked.

“Doesn’t this place have elevators?”

She glares at him when he speaks again, and juts her chin to the elevator along the right wall as they walk into the stairwell, saying nothing as she climbs up the stairs.

The boys all follow her, saying nothing at their interaction.

“Hey, Y/N, do you know where we’re going now?” Soobin speaks up, his voice timid as he catches up to the angry girl.

“Yep. Clearly the elevators don’t work but the top floor is our safest bet. There are tons of big rooms where we’ll be safe in. Unless you guys wanna spend the night in the bowling alley or the movie theater.” She throws in the last options offhandedly, knowing both will just be annoying to settle down for the night.

The two youngests perk up at this though, all voicing their excitement.

“There’s really a bowling alley and a movie theater here? This place was so awesome.”

“It is awesome.” Y/N clarifies, swallowing thickly before she leads the rest of the boys up the remainder of the flights.

Once on the top floor, Yeonjun knows why the girl chose it for their spot. There are dozens of lined rooms down the hall on either of them, and huge windows that show the entire campus and more, the land extending for miles upon miles. He can even see the mountain just off campus, trees swaying in the wind.

“Here you go.” She says, finally shrugging off the backpack she was actually able to retrieve from the trunk, “Home sweet hallway.”

The largest room is to their right, which gives them a view of both doors on either side of the hallway. Yeonjun nods a bit before appointing the group to set up their own sleeping bags and spaces.

The three youngest always stick together, all chatting about whatever is on their mind as they set up their sleeping bags, and Yeonjun notices that Soobin is back to chatting with Y/N easily, saying something he can’t pick up as he starts laying out his sleeping bag as well.

It’s like that for a few minutes, all of the boys laying out their sleeping bags, whipping their blankets in the air to get it into shape before laying it on the thin material of their makeshift bed. Yeonjun honestly cannot wait to sleep. He’s so tired, he doesn’t even think much about the fact that they can’t eat dinner. He hopes they will be able to find some food tomorrow.

“Hey Jun?” Soobin asks, catching the attention of the older boy as he looks up toward him.

“Where is Y/N going to sleep?”

All eyes settle on the girl sitting criss-cross on the floor, shivering lightly with her coat draped over her shoulders. Soobin frowns at Yeonjun before motioning toward her obviously, and the older boy just sighs.

“It’s not my problem Soob-”

“She can sleep in my sleeping bag if she wants.” The younger boy offers, already looking back toward the girl again. Yeonjun feels his heart leap up into his throat. He has to try hard to not eagerly deny the fact that she very much cannot sleep with Soobin.

It’s not that Soobin is a bad guy - quite the opposite actually. And the last thing Yeonjun needs is to hear the girl giggling from Soobin’s goofy antics all night long. No, he will not have that.

“She’ll sleep with me.” Yeonjun says firmly, nodding before he kicks off his shoes and places them next to his flimsy little blanket layers on the ground.

“Not happening.” Y/N finally speaks up, glaring at Yeonjun, “I’d rather get mauled by a zombie.”

“Be my guest then, that is, if you don’t freeze first.”

Yeonjun grins sarcastically at the shivering girl, and even though she is wearing multiple layers, he knows she’lll still be freezing if she doesn’t contain enough heat to get her through the night.

“Jun.” Soobin tries to interject, but the blue-haired boy just glares at him.

“Not a debate, Soobin. Go to sleep.”

The tallest boy looks sadly at the girl, before turning on his back away from her. The rest of the boys do the same, leaving her shivering in silence.

Yeonjun doesn’t know what time it is when he feels movement from his side. His eyes snap open in fear quick enough, though, and he almost reaches for his bat next to him before a soft voice breaks through the darkness.

“Jesus, relax. It’s just me.”

The girl’s teeth are chattering as she crawls under the layers of blankets Yeonjun has above his body, and he doesn’t say anything as the side of her body is suddenly flush against his.

“Thought you’d rather be mauled to death.” He rasps, still half asleep as he nuzzles further into the blanket.

“Shut up, will you?” The girl responds, voice still low so she doesn’t wake the others.

It is quiet for a while, both of them just breathing together. Yeonjun doesn’t know if it’s awkward, but he’s too tired to care. After driving for so long, it starts to take its toll.

“Yeonjun?” The girl says softly, causing the older boy to glance over at her. She sighs before speaking again, “Who were you before all of this?”

The boy blinks at her, mind reeling before he stares up at the tiled ceiling again.

Does he want to do this? Does he really want to open up to the girl who he can’t help but fight with every single second?

He doesn’t have much of a choice as he opens his mouth, and his exhausted body starts speaking honestly.

“I lived in Korea.” He explains, but he doesn’t know why she cares enough to ask. He doesn’t know why he cares enough to explain. He wouldn’t have asked about her, but it’s clear she had other intentions.

“I worked for a company called Big Hit. It’s like a company that trains and creates Idols. Kind of like celebrity performers.”

The girl listens intently to his words, not speaking as he goes on.

“This was our first debut, coming to America. I always dreamed about coming back. I studied in California for a few years when I was younger, but it was always my dream to come back. You know you’ve made it when you make it in America.”

Yeonjun shifts to his side to get more comfortable, and suddenly realizes how close they actually are. He can feel the girl’s breath across his cheeks, and he has to keep himself from pulling away with anxiety.

“I- um… the rest of the boys were in a group with me. We were all idols. But when the virus hit, we got stranded here. Our managers died in a car accident, and we were lucky to make it out alive. We all just want to go back home.”

He doesn’t know why, but somehow he can’t stop. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at him, listening, or because he hasn’t talked to anyone like this in a long time.

“I loved dancing. I trained as an Idol for years, but it was all worth it because I loved it. Before all of this, I studied really hard, and I enjoyed hip hop the most. It was my favorite to dance to. Just being able to move my body freely to the music, I loved every second of it.”

Yeonjun stops now, not really knowing what else to say. He feels embarrassed, a bit flustered, and he tries to take the attention off of him as he asks, “Who were you before all of this, Y/N?”

The girl is still, eyes glossed over as she bites her lip a bit. Yeonjun can see it’s hard for her to talk about it, but she still does. She still opens up to him, because he did to her.

“I was… I was a student. I worked my ass off at community college to come here, and I got scholarships and grants just to be able to live here on my own. I had a rough time in high school, but college was supposed to change everything for me. I was living alone, trying to make friends, and just attempting to start my life. I came from a small town, where people get trapped like poison. No one comes out of my hometown unless they’re willing to risk everything for it.”

Yeonjun can feel his heart beating steadily against his ribcage as the girl speaks, and he can’t help but feel understood by her. He takes a deep breath to stomp the feeling down.

“I remember I was so excited to finally start. I was studying marketing and creative writing. I loved writing so much, I was so excited to be able to do what I loved. It may not seem like much, this town, but it’s all I had. It was the only chance I had at becoming someone else - someone better.”

She looks over at Yeonjun suddenly, and is surprised when he nods for her to continue.

“I grew up in this state my whole life, and my only goal was to leave. All I ever wanted was to leave.”

The smaller girl can’t help but get choked up, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Yeonjun easily slides the blanket farther over her shoulder, hoping the softness will comfort her a bit.

It takes a bit for her to finish, but once she does, Yeonjun knows she is exhausted.

“So that was it. I made it here, and then the virus stole it all from me. My education, my family. All the hope I had. Just… gone.” She says, eyes now closed as she lies next to him. He doesn’t know what to say, and he truly doesn’t think anything he can say will make her feel any better.

“You should rest.” He whispers to her, hand moving up before he realizes what he’s doing.

Before Yeonjun knows it, he’s wrapping his arm halfway across the girl, holding across her chest in a hug, his hand holding onto her right shoulder gently.

He slightly expects her to swear at him. He also expects her to punch him in the face.

She does neither.

Instead, her breathing evens out, and she falls asleep like that. With her body finally warm next to Yeonjun’s, and a single tear slipping down the side of her cheek.

Yeonjun allows himself to fall into a deep slumber soon after.

After all, tomorrow, they have to get a move on.

[berlinini]

Hi I am a solo louie

But I don't like how these solo louies or especially rads idk ..also , like larries assume about louis sexuality and partner and his personal life more than his career. And as a artist

Like this weird and creepy talks that how louis is with a man or louis is a bottom like and how some hot wealthy macho man mr o is taking care of louis as if he is a tiny lost bottom like it so uncomfortable and cringe just like larries theories are cringe and delusional

As a fan we should only hype louis and his music and his career not make theories and fantasies abt him and his personal life according to what u like and want louis to be which ironllly is opposite to what louis actually is we should appreciate him as actual him not what u think he is in ur fantasy abt him

Like in the end only real louis and his music matters

Not theories about him and his personal life or sexuality or if he is with harryor he is bottom being taken care of or has an actual girlfriend who he takes care of and loves or his child or anything else

Just him his kindness his heart his strength his struggles his love his hardworking his career his success matters not how he is 100 percent gay or bi or has a girlfriend or a boyfriend or how he is with every men or not with women

Like I don't have interest in his sexuality or love life but I would always love and support him whether he s gay or straight or with man or woman

Cuz its not our place to theorize or assume

Just hype and love him

I k it may sound a bit bad

But its just am really protective of louis and just want his happiness and success

And when I see all these assumptions abt him by his apparent fans it's just I get upset cuz I want to see support for him and his music

Like the lack of promo and support by the industry and radio is so upsetting and now seeing his fans being more interested in his personal life rather than about his music like see his stream nos

So yeah just ranting but ig it's just me who purely supports him for who he is and wants to be and achieve and not any version of him which his fans make in order to like him

Hi, thank you for your message! Replying under the cut because of the length of the ask and my answer. This is going EVERYWHERE and gets quite philosophical on fandom stuff so beware.

I totally agree that Louis is a musician and fans should first and foremost be there for Louis' music. However, as with any celebrity, you may be more or less inclined to follow their personal lives - maybe there's an artist that you follow on IG, that you have a bit more interest in (you read or watch their interviews, you keep up to date with their projects), while there may be some others for which you don't care to do that - you listen to their music or watch their movies and only care about their art without feeling the need to "discover" who that person is and that's totally OK.

Personally, this is my first "fandom" experience in the sense that I've joined a community of fellow fans (the best <3 louies <3). I have a few celebrities that I've followed a bit closer over the years. And I would say that it's a double edge sword. For example, I'm a huge fan of Lorde's music but knew literally nothing about her. Now I've seen the press for Solar Power and was very put off by some of the things she said and now my perception of her as an artist and the way I consumed the album has changed. That's why they say never meet your idols - there is a difference between the public personality and the "true" person. Anyways I disgress.

My point is that if you're in the fandom, be it via tumblr or twitter or whatever, you're interacting with people who have a lot of interest in Louis. And sadly a lot of that interest revolves around his personal life. But as @seasurfacefullofclouds1 aptly pointed out in a post yesterday, Louis' personal life has been weaponized against him and so fandom's obsession over that also plays against him. But at the same time, it's only "natural" for the fandom to have done so - because that was the narrative that Louis was "given" - Larry, Eleanor, Freddie - with a PR strategy that revolved around that and that only and not his music or artistic aspirations. Louis was never allowed a "normal" career and with all the time that it took for his solo career to launch it left a void of professional music-related content, and only left his personal life to be consumed by fans. Bring into that 1DHQ/HSHQ feeding the Larry narrative - again, to the detriment of Louis. (all of this is based on my understanding of the situation as I was not in fandom at the time)

Now, is fandom going too far with all the speculations about his personal life - his sexuality, his partner, etc.? I'd say a big yes, but that goes back to the beginning of the Larry narrative in 1D (and the other ships in the band). However, for me, there are levels of invasiveness. It's my understanding that Larries have been pretty intense ("investigating" the boys' schedules, travels, etc during 1D) and keep doing so - analyzing every lyrics and piece of clothing to fit their narratives. On the other hand I'd argue that the Mr. O lore has always been "light" - we don't know who that is, what he looks like and we're just happy to imagine Louis with a loving partner. I don't know a fellow Louie who sometimes daydreams about Mr. O whose love for Louis revolves around that fixed idea. The solo louies that I know (and some of them are rad whatever that means) are here for Louis before anything and while we make fun of his love for bald men, none of us is expecting Louis to share anything about his personal life. We just want to know that he's happy. For me, it's pretty clear the Louis is a very private person - understandably because of all the shit he had to endure - and everyone I appreciate in this fandom is OK with that. I'd argue that "rads" are actually the part of the fandom that focuses the most on Louis' career - they know so much about its history, the fuck ups, the facts. So what if sometimes we have a little bit of fun talking about Louis being driven around by Mr. O? Our blogs are not focused on that. (Literally, I thought of making a Mr. O-centered blog for fun, and every mutual that I asked if it was going too far shared my concerns that we don't want a Larry 2.0 and should keep the focus on Louis' music - so please don't put us in the same basket lol)

Another thing you mentioned is the top/bottom debate, which I agree is extremely invasive. Honestly, and I'm gonna try to put this politely, for me this comes from the literal imaginary versions of Louis (and Harry, etc.) that stems from fan fiction. Obviously fan fiction is huge part of this fandom (and others). I think that as long as you consume fan fiction for what it is - fiction - it's totally OK. I have been reading really nice fics and love the work that the authors are doing. But when I look at Louis Tomlinson the artist I'm able to differentiate between what I see and the different versions of him that exists in my head from all these stories. I've said many times before that I believe Larries are stuck with an imaginary version of Harry ("cupcake Harry") that comes from how he was very young and from all the fics in which he's this adorable cute boy and not someone who would fire his musician before tour without an explanation. For example, someone recently shared this post and I was very uncomfortable with the literal fanfic that they wrote in the tags. It's different when it's contextualized on A03 - but to be comfortable saying all this like this, it's crossing a line - but again, it's a line that's been crossed already in this fandom. It's complex stuff honestly, I don't want to come across as the thought police lol.

Look maybe I'm totally wrong about that, but for me, consuming too much fandom stuff (fics, discourse, etc) will blur the lines and it's important to always remind yourself that you, in fact, do not know Louis Tomlinson. You know a public version of him, you know what you can see, through his actions, the values he shows, his lyrics, but those are parts of him and they are meant to be seen. You can decide what you focus on.

But in the end, as you say, you should be here for Louis' music. There is no reason to be here if you dislike his music and are only here for him "as a person" - it's really weird, because again, you don't know him. An anon sent me this Big Larry's post a while ago saying "the cult is first and the music ifs second" (I never answered them rip). I quote the post: "In my opinion, being a larrie means you’re supporting them both as queer and closeted human beings who deserve better. Whether you like the style of music they each create, is secondary." I SCREAMED reading this. There is no reasons to stan Louis and Harry for being queer and closeted. You being their fan will not change their situation (real or imagined)(Larries have a big victim fetish but that's another story). Louis is not asking you to be his fan because of his sexuality or his closet. Louis is A MUSICIAN who wants to MAKE MUSIC and be in the public's eyes FOR HIS ARTISTIC ASPIRATIONS. Which is why we've been saying that Larries actually hate Louis - because they keep pushing him into their narrative in which he's a shadow of Harry and doesn't even want to make music - which is very much false.

So I totally agree with your feeling. I'm sure that the festival and the soon to come LT2 will allow us to focus on Louis' music once again. As a someone navigating fandom, I think it's important to understand how fandom works and how it also influences you, your opinion and your experience as a fan (and how it can be manipulated). A healthy dose of criticism is always good - which I see you have! If this is getting too much, you can always step back a little - and enjoy Louis' music, which is the best :)

[lynn-writes-things]

Good thing u reopened ❤. Since the new trailer i cant stop thinking about my big boy Wrecker...so you can do whatever (even a post war au-everybody lives with a bit of struggling) and u can get spicy if u want (im a big girl cant handle it...or him 👀) so i thought make a donation to request. If u need a prompt, a soulmate is one of my weakness....

Thank you so so so much for the donation!!! and the request, I had so much fun writing this!! I really really hope you enjoy this, and if not, let me know and I’ll redo it!! Thank you again!!!! <3

Word count: 2330

Warnings: nsfw at the end, mentions of sex, ptsd, nightmares, mentions of violence and injury

You’ll never forget the day it was announced that the war had ended. You’ll never forget the moment, you were waiting at your apartment for Wrecker, when you heard over the radio that the war had officially ended. Chancellor Palpatine had been exposed as a Sith Lord by none other than Fox, who had gotten a recording to the Jedi of Palpatine giving orders to Dooku- Dooku even referred to Palpatine as Lord Sidious, removing any trace of doubt. When Wrecker came through your door, you were already crying tears of happiness. You couldn’t believe it- you just couldn’t.

That night, Wrecker took you to 79’s to celebrate with the boys. It was where the two of you had met. Now that the war was over, he had a very important question to ask you, and he wanted his brothers to be there to experience it.

-

The air was cold, and your dress was entirely too short. You had been practically abandoned by your friends, who had convinced you to come out for a couple drinks. Admittedly, you felt foolish for thinking that they would’ve stuck around once they finally talked you out of your house. You had been so busy studying lately that you never got time to have any fun, and though they should’ve been having fun with you, they chose the company of a few clone troopers instead.

“Hey,” Came a voice from behind you. You turned, and came face to… chest, with the largest clone you’d ever met. “You look a little lost.” He commented with a kind smile. Only one of his eyes had an iris, and you found that it sparkled so radiantly that you couldn’t look away.

“Yeah, my friends sort of ditched me.” You said sheepishly.

“That’s not very nice of them,” He commented. “Want to grab a drink with me?”

“I—” You usually would say no, but you figured- fuck it, why not? He was cute, and seemed nice. What’s one drink? “Yeah, actually- I’d love that.” The two of you make your way to the bar, where you both sit and he orders you a drink.

“What’s in this?” You ask, sniffing the brightly colored beverage.

“It’s a surprise!” He laughed. “It’s nothing too heavy, trust me.”

“No offense, but I think we have drastically different perspectives on what is or isn’t a heavy drink.” You joke, and Wrecker belts out a laugh, just happy that you’re finally starting to relax. He couldn’t get over the way you looked- he wanted to take you back to meet his brothers, but he knew that it was way too soon for that sort of thing. He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend on the spot, but again, he knew better. You try a sip of your drink, and you hum in appreciation for the sweet flavor of the beverage. It hardly tastes like alcohol at all.

“This is really good,” You comment.

“I told you!” He cheers, taking a swig of his own drink. “So, what happened with your friends?” He asks. You were sort of surprised that he remembered you even mentioned them. You had almost forgotten that you had mentioned them.

“Oh, they do this every time they get me out of the house,” You say with a sigh. “I don’t get it. They always want me to come out, but they never want to stick around me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He answers. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with you?” He asks earnestly, and you can’t help but blush.

“You hardly know me.” You say with a lighthearted roll of your eyes.

“Well, I like what I know about you so far.” He smiles, and you can’t help but return it. “And I think you’re beautiful, so I don’t see who wouldn’t want to be around you.”

-

The bar was quiet tonight, unlike the night you first met. But that was okay. It meant for more privacy, which meant Hunter could actually breathe. He was the only one who knew what was going to be happening tonight, and he found that he could hardly stop smiling. He was just so excited and proud of his little brother. The first of them to get married was a big achievement, one that Crosshair would never be able to hold over his head. When you caught on to all of his smiling, Hunter just brushed it off by saying he was just happy that the war had finally ended. You had bought it.

“Hey,” Wrecker nudged you, you had him trapped in the booth. “Can I get out?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” You said, standing up. He did the same, only before you had the chance to sit back down, he dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring he had been holding onto for months now. He knew he wanted to propose to you for ages now, but he always just felt he had to wait for the right time. And, well, this felt like the right time.

“Y/N,” He starts, clearing his throat. Tech starts recording without your knowledge. “I’ve known you were meant to be mine from the first moment I saw you here, years ago.” He says. “I knew from the first time I looked into your eyes that you were the only one for me. You’re my soulmate, Y/N.” He’s tearing up, which is making both you and Hunter tear up as well. You had your hand over your mouth in shock. “Will you please make me the happiest man alive and please be my wife?”

“Yes!” You yelled, gaining the attention of every clone in the bar. “Yes, Wrecker- yes!” You’re crying now, and everyone in the bar cheers. Wrecker stands, and places the ring on your finger. You jump into his arms and kiss him as hard as you could. It was salty, the combined taste of both of your tears. The boys are all cheering the loudest, even Crosshair is smiling.

-

“Okay, okay, my turn,” You began, popping a fry into your mouth. You’d moved to a booth in the back, bonding over beers, shots, and fries. “Would you rather have sex with a Togruta or a Twi’lek?” You ask, alcohol swimming in your veins.

“Depends, which one’s hotter?” He asks, and you snort.

“They’re both pretty hot.”

“Are you there?”

“Why would I be there?” You laugh.

“Because if you’re there, I’m picking you regardless.” He promises with a wink.

“Okay, that was a good one.” You laugh, shaking your head. You couldn’t remember when you started holding hands across the table, but you were reminded by the warmth.

“My turn,” He states. “Would you rather fuck me or a reg?” He asks with a smrik.

“I don’t even know what a ‘reg’ is, but I’d definitely rather fuck you.” You answer, blinking with both eyes, causing both of you to burst out laughing. You laugh so hard that beer comes out of your nose, which makes Wrecker laugh so hard he’s pounding his fist on the table. When the two of you sober up, you agree to head back to your place for the night, with promises to show you why they call him Wrecker.

-

You wake up for the third night in a row to Wrecker yelling. He’s sitting up, covered in a layer of sweat. He’s horrified, again. It hurts you deeply that there isn’t more you can do to help him – he is your soulmate after all.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask gently, your arms around him.

“Tech,” Is all he says, and you know all of the details without him having to talk about them. He has had the same nightmare every night since the war had ended and he’d been away from his brothers.

In the dream, they were back on the battlefield, and it’s during a battle that doesn’t go to plan. It starts off fine, though it doesn’t stay fine for very long. Droids get airdropped in from every direction – faster than they can take them out – and they’re overwhelmed before they even know what’s going on. Tech gets captured, and by the time they all find him, he’s badly injured and barely alive. But, in the nightmare, Tech doesn’t make it, and Wrecker’s the one to find him. He blames himself.

“Do you want to call him?” You ask. “He might like to hear from you.”

“I… Yeah.” He says with a shaky sigh. You comm Tech, who’s still awake, and he and Wrecker talk for the better part of two hours while you cuddle up with Wrecker. You gently caress him and place gentle, soft kisses anywhere that you can reach. By the time he hangs up, you can tell Wrecker is feeling better.

“I wish there was more I do to help you, my love.” You say, kissing his cheek.

“You’re here for me,” He says. “That’s all I need from you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I know.” He smiles softly. You kiss his lips now that he is no longer on the line with Tech, and he kisses back eagerly, passionately, trying to show you just how “okay” it was that you did everything you could to help him when he needed it. To show you how much he appreciates you taking care of him.

“I love you,” He sighs against your lips.

“I love you too,” You whisper against his. The kiss deepens, his tongue prodding for entrance, which you happily allow.

-

You don’t even end up fucking that night, you both agree that neither of you are sober enough to make that choice. But, you agree to spend the night together anyways, and see where things go in the morning. You can ride out your hangovers together.

You wake up first, to find the human equivalent of a heater curled around your body. You melt into his touch, and it’s the closest to heaven you think you’ve ever been. You wiggle out of his embrace, and promptly go throw up in the refresher, brushing your teeth afterwards and getting a glass of water. You down two pain killers with the water, and refill the cup, setting two more pain killers on the bedside table on Wrecker’s side, along with the refilled cup of water.

When he wakes up, you’re in the kitchen making caff, needing the caffeine.

“Morning, gorgeous.” He smiles at you. He barely even squints at the morning sun, and you’re reminded once more than being as large as he is must have it’s advantages.

“Morning, handsome.” You smile back, sipping your mug of caff. He walks over and places a soft kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of caff. “Want a cup?”

“I’d love some.” He smiles. You fix him a cup of caff, and you both sit and watch the morning news.

“So, about last night…” He begins, and you feel your heart sink with anxiety. “I really would like to get to know you better.”

“I… I’d like to get to know you better too, Wrecker.” You smile. “You seem like a really kind, funny guy.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, angel.” He says.

“I want you to be yourself,” You laugh. “I like you quite a lot.”

“I like you, too.” He smiles. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you while Wrecker thinks of something – something you can’t read in his eye. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks at last. You beam at him.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Wrecker.” You answer happily.

­-

The kissing grows to him laying you on the bed and rutting against you, his lips never leaving yours. You breathe out that you want him, and Wrecker doesn’t hesitate to start fingering you, stretching you open with care. He knew he was bigger than most, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you – so he did this every single time the two of you had sex.

By the time his cock finally enters you, you’re keening, fucking yourself on his cock. He chuckles at your attempts, before finally giving you what you want. The most amazing part about fucking Wrecker is that he fills you up so perfectly, he manages to hit your g-spot and your cervix without even adjusting his angles – it just naturally happens. You’re convinced that he’s your soulmate, every detail proves it to you, even down to the size of his dick. He starts a slow and sensual pace, before the pleasure starts to get too much for him, and he can’t help but speed up. You’re a moaning mess, crying out in ecstasy with every thrust of his hips.

“Where?” He asks in a pant, and you don’t even need to hear the full question to know.

“Well, I was thinking,” You start, and his pace slows just a little so he can intently listen. “Since we’re engaged now…”

“I… Yeah? Really?!” He asks, sounding enthusiastic and in disbelief.

“Put a baby in me, Wreck.” You plead, and he groans. His big, calloused fingers find your clit, determined to make you come before he does. It doesn’t take long to send you spiraling over the edge, crying out his name as you came messily all over his perfect cock. Wrecker grunts animalistically as he comes inside you, not stopping until you’re filled to the brim with his seed. When he’s done, he stays sheathed inside of you, holding his come in you for several minutes before finally pulling out and laying beside you, pulling you close. You relax into his grip, still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re going to be such an amazing mom,” He says. “I’ll have so much fun making you one.”

“I love you, Wreck.” You say softly, nuzzling against his chest. “You’ll be an incredible father.”

“I love you too, angel.”