#i do have a lot of other fics i have been working on and i'm hoping to get at least one fic done this month but

[chanranghaeys]

so. here are some very personal anecdotes on this fic that i'd just like to share about this fic:

this fic was heavily drawn from several events and people in my life, all mixed up in one and channeled through chan's character. i feel like most of my emotions end up projected onto chan because realistically, there's just something about him that strikes a chord with me. i feel like throughout any universe, i would inexplicably be drawn to someone like him and it would just be something unexplainable—similar to a crush, or maybe something more.

i consider myself a very fluffy writer—fluff is my default genre of choice. i once asked my friends then, "why is it that i can so easily write fluff for other members, but all my fics for chan so far are angst?" i still can't answer this question precisely, but the nearest i can get is because his character resonates with me the most as someone whose love i can and will work for and fight for.

during my worst days, i journaled a lot. when i could talk to no one, i talked to myself through the page. my journaling style is very similar to this, which is why i was able to churn this out relatively quickly.

journals are supposed to be very private matters of the heart and self. for you to even show it to anyone else, you must have full trust in the reader to accept you in your most emotional and vulnerable state. i've never shown them to anyone, save for one person before—and it didn't turn out too well. i like to think that in this fic's universe, this could've been the better outcome of that situation.

tw: death of a family member bc i went through a particularly difficult time this feb. my grandfather passing was a real life situation. consider this my copium, because i wish i had a chan, or anyone, to just hold me physically and emotionally through the whole thing.

i first considered doing purely journal-style entries for this fic, then i remembered the epistolary format—reminiscent of kae's, tara's, tiya's (tiya i realize u haven't posted the fic i had in mind CRYING), and viv's departures from the usual fic formats. i thought i'd do some experimenting of my own haha

all this to say, writing has always been my escape and solace, regardless of whatever comes out of it. i'm just glad i'm able to share some of whatever my brain comes up with people that understand too 🫶

☀️ here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: Ugh, here we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Steve, Captain, First Avenger, whatever you should call him, follows you down the stairs. You're overly aware of his presence. You're confused by it.

You got in one argument on the internet and now he's here? What the heck is wasting his time online for? Doesn't he have a life? He did tell you to get one after all.

"I got it," he dips around you as you get to the bottom. He pulls back the fire door and you eye him warily as you step through. Once more, he's on your heels. He gets the front door too.

You cross your arms as you come out into the sunlight. He shades his eyes with his hands and sighs, "nice day, isn't it?"

You roll your tongue around before you answer, "yep."

"I saw a shop around here--"

"It's expensive," you say.

"I said I'd treat you--"

"Why?" You turn on him and stop in the middle of the sidewalk. You cringe and seal your lips. You steady yourself. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be rude. I got your message loud and clear. You didn't need to come and make sure. Is that why you came?"

"I will explain. Smoothies first." He insists.

You huff, "I know who you are but this is still kinda scary. How did you even find me?"

"You know who I am," he shrugs. Your chest swims with nerves. You nod and turn down the pavement.

"What'd you eat today? You should try some Vitamin C in the smoothie. Get a protein booster." He offers.

You're slightly irked by his advice, mostly the assumptions behind it. You wet your lips and bite back on your retort. You are not a combative person. You never have been. He was right on that front. You settle for a lot of nonsense.

You notice the stray glances in your direction. Not yours, his. People stare at him like fawns, wide-eyed and frozen in place.

"So, what did you have for breakfast?"

"Steve-- Captain-- What would you prefer?"

"We'll get to that too," he says smugly. His answer unsettles you further. He's so certain and you are entirely lost. Not to mention, embarrassed.

"It doesn't really matter what I ate," you say.

He points you ahead of him, down the walkway to the shop door. He once more opens it and sees you through. You enter and look around. The amount of booty-lifting leggings and bulging biceps has you shrinking down.

You stare up at the menu and try to piece together how to order. You get a base and a boost and then there's all these bobas and vitamins? This is too complicated.

"You have any recommendations?" You ask. Maybe that will appease him.

"Sure, I'll get you my usual. You wanna find a table?"

"Can do," you mumble and walk away.

You sit in the corner and cradle your chin in your hand. You tap your lip and blow a soft raspberry. There's a woman staring at you from her group of friends. Her assumptions would be kinder than Steve's. He's here to lecture you in person, not take you on a date.

He sits across from you and sets down a cup filled to the brim with sickly green. You shouldn't complain. You're not exactly eating gourmet. You thank him and reach for it. He stretches his hand over the top.

"You shouldn't put your elbows on the table. It's rude." He reproaches.

Your frown then sit up, dragging your arm off the table. You can't make yourself apologise. He so easily picks out your every flaw.

"You gonna try it?" He watches you.

You hesitate but bring the straw to your mouth. You sip and your cheeks pinch. It's bitter yet tangy. How?

"Mm, good," you lie."

"You get used to it," he says.

"Can I please know why I came home to you in my apartment?"

He grins and looks down. He pokes his tongue into his cheek.

"You don't get out much," he lifts his eyes.

"Yeah, you were right about that," you squirm and put the cup down. You clasp your hands in your lap.

"How old are you?"

You chew your cheek before you answer, "twenty-three."

"Mhmm, and you don't have any schooling? Not formal?" He wonders.

You put your eyes down, "no. Can't afford it."

"Huh, from what I gather, lots of students work their way through these days."

Your heart sinks.

"Couldn't get accepted either," you mumble. "That's my own doing. So no need to say it out loud."

Your shoulders slump and your eyes glaze. This is humiliating. It's like having lunch with your mom. Not that she ever did much better. Still, she picks you apart like a chicken leg.

"You should sit up. Bad posture won't feel good as you get closer to thirty," he girds.

You suck in a deep breath and sit straight. You scowl at him, "I got your point, alright? I already feel terrible. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," he tilts his head. "I want you to try. I want you to do better."

"What does it matter to you? You don't know me."

"It matters to me because I can make you better," he says. "You said you don't get opportunities. That everyone else has everything handed to them, so my hand is open. I'm giving you what you're looking for."

"Huh?" You shake your head gently and furrow your brow.

"No rent, no work, none of that."

You blink and cross your arms. What is he talking about?

"Here's the deal. You get a free ride and all you have to do is follow my rules. I promise you, everything will be better. No manager, no loud sister, no bills."

You narrow your eyes, "and what do I have to do?"

"I said as much, live by my rules."

"Oh," you purse your lips.

You have this rotting feeling in your gut. He's not saying something. There's no reason for him to do this. Over one little spat on a forum.

"Is this how you save people, Cap?"

"I prefer Captain," he spreads his shoulders wide.

"Right. Captain. What if I can't live by your rules? You think I'm lazy--"

"Unmotivated. Complacent. Apathetic. Not lazy," he corrects you.

"Sure, but why... me?"

His eyes twinkle thoughtfully. They are very blue. You were so focused on yourself, you didn't notice... him. He's forged like a statue. His eyes are bright, his features made even more handsome by his beard and his grown out hair. And you are in your work uniform. A mess.

"Chance, I guess." He shrugs. "I mean, think about it, what else do you got going for you?"

You stare at the table then turn your sights through the window. You issue a soft sigh. You put your elbow on the table and he tisks. You quickly pull it back and wiggle your foot anxiously.

He's not wrong. You have absolutely nothing. You don't see yourself getting too much further than minimum wage and a shit apartment. You are being handed this, are you going to turn away what you always envied? An easy out.

"What does it... mean? What happens if I agree? What are the rules?" Your questions bubble out.

He combs his thick fingers through his hair, "the rules you'll learn. First, you're coming back to New York, so I can supervise you. Then, we start. You get into a regimen; exercise, clean eating, routine."

You flutter your lashes. This is absurd. You scoff.

"You're joking. You're mocking me. You're--" you cover your face, "I get it now. I almost fell for it."

"No," he reaches across and pulls your hands down. You flinch at the warmth of his touch, the roughness of his skin. "I'm not. Look."

He retracts his hold on you and you fold your hands over your chest. He reaches into his jacket pocket and slides out two cards. He lays down the thick paper.

"I have two return tickets. For me and you. Tomorrow at noon."

"Tomorrow-- huh?" Your eyes round.

"I'm serious. You better get serious too. You'll be twenty-four soon. Then twenty-five. It's not too far before thirty comes knocking," he taps the tickets.

You're not like him. You're not going to stay young. You're not amped up on super goo. You're only human.

"Or you can do what you always do. Nothing, then blame everyone else."

It's like a slap in the face. Shame and anger. Hurt. Doubt. He's right, it's time to grow up. This isn't an opportunity you get very often. In fact, you don't think many others have been given the same chance. For once, you won the lottery.

"I'll try it." You say.

"No try. You commit," he retorts.

"Alright, I'll... do it."

"You'll do it, Captain," he corrects you.

Your insides wriggle at that. You ignore it.

"I'll do it, Captain."

⭐

Static scratches in your ears and skull as you enter the apartment. Alone. Stunned. As if a mine exploded in your face. In a way, it sort of did. Your online griping finally caught up to you. That and your real-life failure.

Shea is in the living room. She gets up on her knees and smirks at you. "Aw, where is he?"

"Who?" You blink, not processing her question.

"Captain America, duh," she scoffs. "Come on, you really sent him away?"

"He's... busy." You go to your bedroom door and the couch lurches with her weight.

"Hey, you can't just not tell me why he showed up. You didn't say anything about knowing Steve fucking Rogers."

"I didn't?" You open your door and she follows you into your room. You face her and block her from going further. "Shea, please, I need to be alone."

"Why? You're always alone. It's why I'm so surprised you have hunky blond heroes showing up for you. Taking you out for a smoothie," she taunts.

She was listening. He was right to go somewhere else.

"It wasn't... like that. Look. I'm..." you back away and sit on the foot of your bed. You're dizzy. You really said yes. You're entirely sure to what. He kept it all a bit too vague. "I'm moving out."

"What? Why? But--"

"Yeah, er, yeah," you stutter as you build a lie in your mind, "he was here about a job. Long shot. I forgot I even applied."

"Wait? You're going to work with the Avengers? Doing what?"

You look at her, "paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wait. How am I supposed to find a new roommate? When are you leaving?"

You rub your cheeks and stretch them as you drag your fingers down, "tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" She shrieks.

"Yeah, it's... they move fast."

"All the way to New York?" She blusters.

"Please, Shea, I need time to think."

"Yeah, me too!"

"I'll figure out rent for you. I don't know," you hold your head in your hands.

"Well, you don't seem very excited," she snorts.

"Shea!" You sit up with a snarl. "Stop. Alright! I need you to get out so I can pack."

"Don't yell at me--"

"I'm not..." you lower your voice, "yelling. I'm... trying to figure this out so please. Later."

She rolls her eyes and stomps out. "Donna!" She hollers and you get up to close the door behind her.

You stomp back to your bed and take out your phone. You almost can't remember work or all the BS there. You swipe through the search results and tap on the first that isn't sponsored: National Museum, Virtual Exhibit. You're brought to a page with a familiar face. Steve, with no beard and shorter, lighter hair. The infamous war hero.

You flip through, reading about his history, chewing your thumb. You stop at the part about the serum; 'This enhancement gifted Rogers with superstrength, heightened sight and hearing, improved resilience, and quick healing, among other capabilities.'

You rock nervously. That's a bit intimidating. You're not that stupid. You know he's a strong guy, almost invincible by the news stories, but you just never paid that much attention. Never thought of it. He protects people, right? But what damage could he do if he wanted to hurt someone?

Your phone vibrates. You flinch at the sight of his name. He made you take his number before you left the shop.

'I'll pick you up at 10. Wiil need to check-in for flight early.'

You send back a thumbs up. He's quick to reply.

'Is that a yes?'

You huff.

'Yes, Captain', you key in.

[joeliz99]

"You, Always." - Danny Ramirez

Warnings: Slowburn, RPF Fic, Multi-part series

Part One

Time to start over.

Danny and (Y/N) hadn’t seen each other in almost three years—since the day he graduated from college.

Honestly, they’d started growing apart even before that. But it all escalated after a conversation they had right after the graduation ceremony. That was the last time they spoke, and after that, the silence settled in—a strange, unnatural distance, only broken by occasional mentions of each other’s names through mutual friends.

They both focused on themselves. For some time, it felt like a lot was left unsaid. But, there was not much any of them could do when pride and hurt weighted more than anything else. It was over, and after some time, they accepted the idea and moved on. For good.

At least that's what Danny thought, until he learned that he was going to see her again.

Amelia and Yason, still close friends to both of them, were getting married. And of course, that was the perfect reason to reunite the whole friend group. Amelia had always been the glue in their circle, and she was determined to bring everyone back together—even if it meant flying people in from different states and countries to celebrate.

She was on the phone with Danny, making sure he’d confirmed his attendance when she casually mentioned something that caught him off guard.

"So, you're for sure coming, right?" Amelia asked, her voice relaxed but unmistakably friendly, the conversation now going on for good a while.

"Would I lie to you?" Danny grinned, though she couldn't see it. "I'll be there."

"Okay, perfect. So… should I add a plus one to your RSVP or…?"

"No," Danny replied, a breath of laughter escaping him while finishing up the last lap of his afternoon run. "Just me. No plus one."

Amelia’s voice shifted slightly, more upbeat. "Awesome. I’m working on a little hangout before the wedding. Trying to coordinate everyone's schedules. If I'm lucky, I can get the bridesmaids to come a couple of days earlier. (Y/N) and Reiny are supposed to stay with me for a couple of days, but I’m not sure about the others.”

“(Y/N)?” Danny asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice as his jog slowed.

“Yeah, (Y/N). She's one of my bridesmaids...” Amelia’s response carried a tone that suggested it should’ve been obvious.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" she teased.

"No… No, it’s just… it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. How’s she doing, anyway?"

The conversation shifted. Amelia wasn’t one to keep things to herself, but she also felt it wasn't the right thing to vent about (Y/N)'s life without her knowing. So, instead, she made sure to make it clear that her friend had being doing well, thought her life had changed in the years since. And at last, she ended up with a single expression.

" I think you two have some catching up to do. Just... Try not to waist it."

Unlike Danny, (Y/N) hadn’t known he would be at the wedding. She couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised when she found out—he had been busy with his acting career, blowing up in ways that kept him constantly moving. She figured he’d be wrapped up in projects and rehearsals, so his presence at the wedding seemed unexpected but not completely shocking.

Two days before the wedding, the closest friends and loved ones of the bride and groom met at a restaurant in SoHo. The rooftop section was packed with people, surrounded by familiar faces and the kind of easy camaraderie they tend to have. The music played, laughter floated through the air, and the evening felt just as alive as it ever had.

Danny showed up an hour late, but that didn’t stop Yason from spotting him immediately. He walked over, pulling Danny into a warm hug like nothing had changed.

As the group noticed Danny entering, the attention shifted toward him—especially from those who had been closest to him back in the day. (Y/N)’s gaze lingered a little too long as he moved through the crowd. Her heart skipped when their eyes met, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the menu at the bar. The nerves started to bubble up.

But Danny, feeling that same familiar pull, walked toward her, moving through the crowd with a calm confidence that made (Y/N)'s heart race again.

"Hey." A light tap on her arm brought her back to the present. She looked up to see him standing there, smiling like no time had passed.

"Danny, hi," she greeted, trying to sound casual, though her voice betrayed her nerves.

"Been a while, huh?" Danny’s voice was light, but there was something tentative beneath it. He sat next to her, glancing around at the group before his focus shifted back to her. "How’s everything? How’s the family doing?"

The conversation flowed easier than (Y/N) expected, like they’d never been apart. It felt natural, comfortable, yet full of the kind of unspoken tension only old friends—or maybe something more—could share. That last conversation they had, the one that shifted things between them, lingered in the air, but neither of them was ready to address it. They chose to ignore it, for now.

Danny noticed how (Y/N) had changed. She was still the same person, but there was something different now—something that made him pause before speaking. He didn’t want to sound like he was only noticing how much she'd grown, but it was hard to ignore.

"This one’s on me," Danny said, trying to keep things light after they both ordered another round of drinks.

"No, really, you don’t have to," (Y/N) protested.

"I know." Danny grinned, but his gaze flickered to hers before darting away. "So, you graduated! What’s next for you?"

"Well..." She took a sip of her drink, rolling her eyes with a laugh. "Good question. I moved to Miami. Been trying to get my name out there as a songwriter. You know how it is—saturated market, fewer opportunities. Just trying to stand out."

"I get it," Danny nodded. "With acting, it’s the same. Gotta stay consistent, keep pushing through… But hey, Miami? That’s my hometown!"

"I know," (Y/N) replied, a knowing smile pulling at her lips.

Danny leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just a bit, as though making the conversation more private. "Well, listen… I’m not living there right now because of projects, but if you need—"

Before he could finish, Amelia appeared out of nowhere, slinging her arm around both of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to order food. You guys can keep talking after that."

The flow of the night continued, and soon enough, (Y/N) and Danny were seated at opposite ends of the table.

Amelia leaned over to (Y/N) once they were settled. “Saw you two talking,” she said, an amused look on her face. “How’d it go?”

“It was good,” (Y/N) said quietly, more subdued than she expected. “I just... wasn’t expecting him to be here. You didn’t mention it.”

"I know," Amelia replied with a small, knowing smile. "I didn’t want to make it weird. It’s been a while, but I think you both deserve a second chance."

"A second chance for what?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, but there was a slight churn in her stomach at Amelia’s words.

"Chill," Amelia said, her smile soft and teasing. "What I mean is, there’s no need to act like strangers. You two were close—really close. Don’t let time or any other thing ruin that."

“We’re fine,” (Y/N) said quickly, her gaze avoiding Amelia’s. Her stomach twisted again, but she didn’t want to admit that part of her was unsettled by the idea of facing Danny again.

"Exactly," Amelia agreed, her voice gentle. "Just relax and enjoy tonight. That’s why we’re here."

The rest of the night passed in a blur—laughter, more drinks, and conversations that ended drifting from one hangout spot to the next one. By the time the energy started to fade, only six of them—the core group—remained, still hanging out under the soft glow of the city lights. Everyone was tired, and instead of catching a ride, they walked back to the hotel after realizing it was past 2 am.

Amelia, who'd been a bit tipsy for most of the night, leaned on (Y/N), who was trying to keep it together but clearly feeling the weight of the exhaustion, too.

“I swear we were almost there 20 minutes ago. How much farther is it?!”

Reiny, already annoyed, replied, “You’ve been saying that for the past five blocks, Amelia. I can’t believe we actually listened to the drunkest person in the group. I just want to be in bed by this point.”

"Bro, we used to pull all-nighters and still go out for breakfast. This is a warm-up. We’re 25, not 60," René interrupted, not missing a beat of the conversation.

" Speak for yourself. I was an old lady at heart back then, and I still am now." (Y/N) replied after an instant, sensing how Amelia giggled and leaned on her more heavily than necessary, making her stumble a little.

“Baby, why don’t we leave (Y/N) alone? Come lean on me,” Yason said, picking up the pace a little before both girls ended up on the floor.

“But she's fi—” Amelia started to complain.

“No, actually?” (Y/N) cut her off. “You go do that. My feet are killing me, Ame. I’ve been wearing heels since 3 pm, and I can barely feel them by now.” (Y/N) practically shoved Amelia toward Yason, who was right next to her.

As (Y/N) shifted her weight, trying to keep steady, Danny picked up the pace to walk beside her, glancing at her shoes before his gaze met her face.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then casually stopped forcing the guys to do so too and pulled off his sneakers to hand them over to her. "Here, these’ll probably be more comfortable," he said, his tone completely unbothered, almost as if it were no big deal.

(Y/N) looked down at the sneakers, slightly taken aback but not wanting to make it awkward. "What? I— No. That’s kind of... I don't know. You don't have to."

"So, you’d rather get blisters than take up my offer? It’s only like 10 minutes more before we get to the hotel."

"You know how dirty the streets of NY are, dude?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, still not believing what he was doing.

"I have socks on. You’re not going to last two more minutes more in those. C’mon, just take them. Don't overthink it."

Her hesitation lasted a moment longer before she gave in, still unsure of what in the world was happening right there. "Alright, fine. Thanks."

Danny didn’t make a big deal about it, just slipping his hands into his pockets as she changed shoes for all of them to continue their way. The guys, still trailing behind, and having noticed the exchange, passed a few quiet chuckles between them.

Yason muttered low enough for only the guys to hear, his grin broadening. "Oh man, I missed this."

René chuckled under his breath, looking sideways at Danny. "Classic move, man. Taking one for the team, huh?"

Danny shot them a look, rolling his eyes with a small smile on his face, but didn’t say a word as they kept walking.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) pushed herself to go back to Reiny's side, grateful for the offer but still feeling the oddness of the situation. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she didn't know how to act around him, and for the mean time, it was just something she had to live with.

As the group finally took the last turn to get to the hotel, the faint sound of laughter and quiet chatter filled the air. The night felt light again, the easy rhythm of old friendships slowly falling back into place.

Second part now available here!

Still wanting to read more? Here are some other Danny's shots to read. You're welcome!!!!

[xmunsonlovex]

Somewhere I Belong

Summary: You leave home for a new opportunity in Hawkins. You're on your own, and your first day, you meet your metal head neighbor. Will this be the start of something that you've always been longing for, or will you keep it at a distance, as you always do.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

wc: 8600+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. female reader, reader has low self esteem and a lot of insecurities, slight angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc) mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral(f!receiving) reader is inexperienced and a virgin, mutual pinning, idiots in love, eventual smut in later chapter(s), Eddie is little bit of perv, but only for you.

a/n: It's here, guys. A day earlier than I had originally set myself to release it. I had to break it up into multiple parts, which I am currently writing already. I hope to have pt.2 out next week. That'll be the smutty chapter, for those wanting to see these 2 take the next step. Thank you to whoever reads this, I hope you like it. While I've read HUNDREDS of fics from all you lovely loves here on Tumblr, this is my first fic I have ever written. I think I read it over at least 20 times. I'm sure there are still many grammatical errors and things I may have missed. Please let me know if you like it. Please reblog and comment your thoughts 💗

Dividers by: Evansyhelp

You huffed as you placed the last box of your belongings on the carpeted floor. This definitely needs to be replaced, you thought as you looked at it. The move to Hawkins was grueling, between heavy traffic and nasty weather, you were trying to just make it there in one piece. Thankfully you did, and now you stood in the middle of your living room, taking in your new surroundings. It's around 6pm, and it's starting to get dark. You felt lucky to have a nice view of the sunset from your backyard, if you could call it that. It was a small section with enough space for maybe a little garden (you’ve always dreamt of growing your own veggies), and patio chairs. You had found the relatively inexpensive trailer for sale in a community called Forest Hills in Hawkins. Looking at the photos, you knew it needed some repairs. A new paint job too, maybe, but with your new job in the city, you figured you'd make it your own in no time. It was supposed to pay fairly well too, working as an administrative assistant.

You walk over to the kitchen, checking the fridge and stove. All seemed to work fine for now, and with that, you were putting away your kitchen belongings in the cupboards, making note to fix the wobbly door to each cabinet. A box of Mac and Cheese sat on the counter while you boiled some water in a small pot, and then started to cut up some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, making your favorite salad. You were singing to yourself as you made your food, that you didn't hear the knock on the door. It was soft at first, but quickly became louder after the 4th knock. You grabbed a towel to dry off your wet hands, and walked to your front door, looking through the peephole, but could not make out who was on the other side. You opened the door just a bit, and see a frizzy- haired man, who didn't look much older than you. He sported a denim jacket with lots of heavy metal band patches on it. That definitely caught your eye. 

"Hey Jack-" He turned his head to look at you, then scratched at his cheek. "You're not Jack.." He said. 

"Hi, no. I'm not. I'm guessing he's the one I bought this trailer from though..?" You asked, a small smile on your lips. He was cute, you thought. 

"Makes sense. I haven't seen him in like..2 weeks. I thought maybe he went on vacation then got another car.." he pointed to your shitty car that sat on your driveway, practically falling apart. "You left the trunk open. I um..closed it for you. Don't want any raccoons to get in there.." He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

You smiled at him, and nodded. Of course you left it open. "Thank you. I was doing a million things at once.." You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. "I just moved in today. I'm Y/N, by the way.." you say, noticing him smile softly when you mentioned your name. "I'm Eddie. I live next door to you.." He nodded towards his trailer and then kicked a rock as he looked down, making sure it went to the side rather than in your home. "Well, nice to meet you, Eddie. I uhm, I'll see you around? I have dinner cooking right now. Don’t want to burn down my new home.”  You said with a chuckle.

 “Yeah. Maybe I can show you around town..whenever you're free." He says quickly. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, they could put you in a trance.  "I'm usually home by 5:30..and I'm off on Sundays." 

“Ok, yeah, I like that idea. I’m off on the weekends, so that works out.” You say.

He felt a giddiness inside him, the thought of making a new friend and even the possibility that the friendship could turn into something more, gave him butterflies. Hope, even. For so long, he was used to being blamed for the events that happened in Hawkins. For so long..he was called a freak and spat at for his taste in music. He wasn't a bad guy, at least he didn't think so. Steve and Robin, and the boys (who were all graduated now) didn't think so. So why was it so hard for him to make other friends? To get a date? He was tired of the meaningless sex that usually transpired at The Hideout, not that it happened often. He wouldn't call himself a ladies man by any means, or someone the girls would seek after. Most times, girls wanted something from it. A little weed. Or maybe the right to brag that they had a quickie with a front man of a rock-band. They never specified which band, though. So when the opportunity arose to show a pretty, new girl around town, he was absolutely going to take the chance to do that. 

"I'll stop by Sunday. I can show you around town, and where to go for all the good food places. Maybe I can take you..to get some groceries, if you need. I don't mind." Eddie offered. 

"Ok, yeah, thank you, Eddie. I uhm...gotta get going though, but I’ll see you Sunday." You try to sound confident, but it comes out a bit shy and timid, instead. He says goodbye, and you watch him jog to his trailer, looking over at you and waving before going inside his home.  You can't help but bite your lower lip, knowing he would be trouble. You weren't exactly looking for a relationship, not romantically anyway. It was embarrassing to think about the fact you had no experience aside from a few pecks on the lips from the 3 dates you had gone on back at home. The dates always ended with a "I had a nice time, but I think we should see other people." You weren't sure if you were maybe too boring for them, or maybe it was your looks? Your self esteem had always been low, even back to when you were in middle school. Kids were relentless and brutal. 

High school was no better. Girls were rude and mocked you for your style, or lack thereof. Boys were cruel too. Laughing when you once tripped over your own feet, nervous around a football player you liked. He looked at you apologetically but it didn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth when your knees and palms slammed on the tile floor. You were 23 now and still remembered it like yesterday. It was the reason you left home. Your mom was sad, she'd definitely miss you but understood the change you needed in your life. She wasn't about to stop you from becoming a better version of yourself. And this was your chance. 

Sunday rolled around way quicker than you anticipated. Between putting away the remainder of your items around the house and doing a deep clean; you were exhausted. But, looking forward to the city tour with your new neighbor. You had woken up earlier than usual to have a shower and a quick breakfast to settle your growling stomach from skipping dinner the night before. After finishing your food, and cleaning up the kitchen, you grabbed your purse and keys, setting them on the small console table by the door as you pace around, growing a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to show you around? He probably had better things to do. Your thoughts were promptly silenced as a knock was heard. Giving it a couple of seconds to not seem too eager, you then walked to your door and opened it. Eddie smiled. You could tell he was freshly showered, his hair still a little wet and the smell of soap mixed with some cologne invaded your nostrils. 

"Morning, I have an appointment with Ms. Y/N." He said, with a sheepish smile. You giggled. 

"Good Morning, sir. Yes, I'll be happy to help you with that. Please come in and take a seat. She will be right with you. Could I offer you some water?" You say in your most professional voice. Eddie was in your home now, admiring your decor. It was simple but you. There were some framed photos on the wall; and a light blue couch taking up quite a bit of space in the living room. 

"Huh? Oh yes, thank you ma'am." He said and took a seat on the couch, that intoxicating smile now reaching his eyes. "You're a metal fan." He said, noticing your CD and vinyl collection by the TV stand. "Hmm. Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath...Dio??" He said excitedly, holding the vinyl for Holy Diver. Oh, he's going to have to marry you, now.

"Yeah, I love them. My dad’s a huge fan. Would put the album on when I was younger." You say, smiling at the fond memories, then hand over a glass of cold water to Eddie, who accepts it with a smile. "I fear that you will never get rid of me, now. These are my favorite bands. Not to mention...there is some stuff here that I haven't listened to yet..you have quite the extensive library, sweetheart." He chuckled. The heat that emitted from your cheeks at the nickname was for sure evident, you thought. No way he didn’t see the pink tint on your face. And he did. He proudly gave himself a mental high-five for making you blush. 

"Alright, let's get going. I have loads to show you." Eddie said after drinking the water you so kindly offered him. 

Eddie took you around to all his favorite spots in Hawkins, starting with showing you where your new job was located, then drove back south towards Hawkins again. You learned a lot about him while he drove you around. He was 25, worked as a mechanic at a local auto repair shop, and on some weekends, he'd play with his band, Corroded Coffin, at a bar called The Hideout. You said you'd definitely go see him play and that you were sure he sounded amazing, despite him saying otherwise. That made him blush this time around.  

"So, this is where I went to high school, figured I'd show you since it's on the way to the farmers market you wanted to go to." He tapped on the steering wheel. His hands couldn’t stay still, between either the tapping or him playing air drums to the song that quietly played on his radio.

“Kind of looks like my school...but mine was filled with the most obnoxious and hateful people I'd ever met." You say, your tone a bit softer. "It's the main reason I left home. Everyone I knew...they held this standard of 'I'm better than you.' A lot of people with money. An easy life. Meanwhile, my mom worked her ass off all day and night to keep our mouths fed." You then fell quiet for a bit. "I hated my high school years.." You chuckle faintly and look over at him, who looked back at you while he waited at a red light. "I know all about that.." He nodded. "I wasn't a...popular guy in high school either. I was bullied here and there, but most people left me alone. They didn't want to mess with the one guy who dealt them their weed. Or whatever drug they needed." He said, a little bit of a white lie but you didn't need to know the whole story. With that, he winked at you with a small smirk, and drove to the farmers market. 

"What?! How can you not like cucumbers? They're so tasty! With some salt and ranch. So good." You said, laughing as he made a gagging face while you picked some fresh fruit and placed them in the basket you were holding. "Respectfully darling, they taste so bland. Like crunchy water." 

You scoff and shake your head. "They’re super healthy, though. If you ever come over for lunch or something, I'll make you my special tomato and cucumber salad. It has some dill weed in it. And ranch. You'll love it."

"I take it back. I don't think I can hang out with you anymore. Dill weed? You're killing me here." He joked. The laugh that you let out was now his favorite sound in the world. A genuine laugh at his lame attempt at joking around with you. 

After you paid for the fruits, he gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the next stall, which was selling homemade sauces and jams. The older woman on the other side of the table gives Eddie a rather unpleasant look, then notices you. What she can only imagine to be this innocent young woman who is being put under a spell by Eddie the "devil worshipper". This worried her. It took her no time to pull out a pamphlet of their local church, and handed it to you, but you immediately shut that down, and handed it back to her. 

"I appreciate the suggestion, but..I'm not really religious. Thank you. I'd just like to buy-"

"I will not sell my items to devil worshippers like you and Munson, here." Her tone immediately changed to unfriendly and unwelcoming. Eddie felt himself start to get angry, not so much of what she said about him. He was used to that. But because now you'd been given the same treatment as him, and you didn't deserve that. You were sweet. And so beautiful. Welcomed him with a smile rather than spiteful comments and-

“That's OK. I can go spend my money elsewhere. I saw a few stalls that had better prices, actually. And frankly, they also seemed nicer. I can't imagine your jams and sauces taste any good when you have such hate in your heart.” You say. It wasn't meant to be an insult or anything of that nature, you genuinely didn't know why she was being so mean to Eddie. He looked at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Come on, I know the one.” Eddie grabbed your hand, leading you to a different part of the market. Near the parking lot. 

“Hi Sammy. Y/N, is this what you're looking for?” He asked you, this vendor was selling lots of different jams. He'd known about him from The Wheelers. Particularly Nancy. “You bring me a new customer? Eddie. How can I ever repay you?” Sammy smiled fondly at him. One of the very few people in town that treated Eddie with some dignity. 

“Yes. I'm new in town. Wanted to check out the local farmers market. See what you guys had.” You smile shyly. Eddie came to the conclusion that you were quite shy by nature. Not that he was observing every small detail of you on purpose. Or maybe..

“Oh, Eddie. She's so sweet! Polar opposites, I see.” He joked and Eddie glared at him, with no real mean intention behind it. “Teasing. Eddie's a great guy. You've made a wonderful friend.” He hyped him up, trying to be a wingman of sorts. 

“I agree.” You simply say, worried you'd start babbling. Wouldn't be the first time, and instead, you offer Eddie a warm smile as you look at him, a look that lingered for a couple seconds longer than usual. “Alrighty lovebirds. What can I get for yah?” Sammy smirked, looking at both you and Eddie, noticing the flustered expressions. Oh, young love. 

“Um, yes. I would like the grape, blackberry and..peach jam, please.” You say, your face is on fire as you stutter your words. Get a hold of yourself. You hadn’t known Eddie for more than a week, and already you were a mess. Stumbling over your words, blushing every time his fingertips brushed your skin or sent a sweet nickname your way. Eddie is definitely going to be the death of you. Sammy hands you the 3 jars of jam, and puts them in a brown paper bag, adding a smaller jar in there with the others. “This one is my famous strawberry jam. My bestseller. This sample is on me. Let me know if you like it.” He says, smiling sweetly as he hands you the bag. You pull out your wallet, and go to grab some money, but Eddie stops you, grabbing his own wallet quicker.  “I got it..” He mumbled with a smile, and before you could put up a fight, he slapped a 20 dollar bill on Sammy’s palm. “I'll see you, Sam.” Eddie says and he guides you two to walk over to his van. 

“Anything else you want to do?” He asked, opening the door for you and watching as you go in, his eyes admiring the round of your ass. He shakes the impure thoughts from his mind, and watches you buckle yourself in.

“We can head home. Maybe I can make you some lunch? At…my place. If-if you want. I don’t want to impose, or anything. I’m sure you’re a busy guy and all-” He chuckles at your rambling, thinking you couldn’t possibly be any cuter than you already were. Oh, he’s in trouble, as well. 

“Let’s go have some lunch. I guess I’ll try this special cucumber and tomato salad you keep trying to sell me on. With the dill weed and ranch.” He smirked, and gently shut the door to his van, then went around and got in the driver side, buckling in. “Ready, madam?” He said, shaking his wild mane side to side. He turned his head towards you, and gave you a goofy smile as he started the van, and then drove out of the parking lot. You softly laughed at his antics, already enamoured with him. “Hey Eddie, can I ask you something?” You cautiously say, not sure whether this would offend him. “Hm.” He replies, turning left to get into the correct lane towards the trailer park. “Do people really think you’re a satanist? I mean..if..you are, I promise I am not bothered by it. I don’t put down anyone’s beliefs. Unless you’re a shitty person. Which I do not believe you are. You’ve been really nice to me.” You say, once again, rambling. “I am. Why do you think the whole town gives me such scared looks? Poor Jeannie, the lady with the jams, was so upset when I sacrificed her chickens and goats. But..I needed them! I wish she’d just understand.”  He sighed, shaking his head and then glanced at you, finding you wide-eyed. “I’m joking, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh, and came to a full stop right before their turn. “This town is very stuck on old beliefs. I like metal music, and the media painting it as the devil’s music a few years ago certainly didn’t help my case. I also played dungeons and dragons in high school, still do actually. And this whole place came after me with pitchforks.” He once again left out some important key facts regarding the history of Hawkins. A conversation for another day, perhaps. “Not everyone is horrible, but I’ve kept my circle small for this very reason.” He added.

Once he arrived back at the trailer park, he parked his van at his place after dropping you off at your front door like a gentleman. He said he’d come over in about 20 minutes, saying he had a few calls he had to make. You didn’t ask any questions, and instead focused on getting started on lunch. Your “special” salad, along with some sandwiches, chips and 2 glasses of cold cokes. You hoped he would enjoy it, now second guessing everything you just did. To the paper plates you placed the food on, to the silly Halloween table cloth you had put on your small dining table. It was only March. You thought of earlier as you sat on your couch waiting for him. When he placed his hand on the small of your back. His hand felt like fire on you, over your clothes and yet, you recall the goosebumps traveling all over your body from such a simple and soft touch. You wondered how his hands would feel on other parts. Your shoulders. Massaging out years of tension and stress. Wondered how his hands would feel if he held your cheek in a romantic manner. Or what they would feel like caressing your neck down to your arms, until they were in an area you wanted to feel him the most. You shut your eyes tightly, and lean your head back against the top of the cushion on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.Your insecurities overwhelming you as you sat there alone with your thoughts. 

“Steve, I..I need your guidance here, man.” Eddie panicked over the phone, pacing his small kitchen, playing with the phone cord out of habit. “What are you talking about? You got this. It’s like a damn movie. A cute girl moves in next door. Voluntarily wants to hang out with you. You’re golden!” He tries his best to comfort Eddie in his state of anxiety. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, absolutely. Is she wanting to hang out, out of pity, though? Because some dumbass called me a freak in front of her? Is she-” Eddie is quickly cut off by Steve. “Yes. She is inviting you over for lunch, after she accepted your offer to show her around town, and laughed at your jokes, because she feels bad that some lonely, old woman called you a freak.” Steve deadpanned. “You really think so?” Eddie sadly sighed. Steve wanted to strangle him over the phone. “Eddie, no! I know your expertise with women isn’t as evolved as mine…but listen when I tell you, she’s into you. To some degree, anyway! Go over, have lunch with her. Be a little flirty. See where it goes. No harm in trying.” Steve smiled. Easy for the Stud of Hawkins to say. 

You hear a knock at your door, one you were now familiar with, pulling you out of your negative thoughts. Something you really had to work on. You’re a little quicker to answer the door this time, and see Eddie standing there with a few flowers he picked from The Wilson’s front yard on the other side of his trailer. They’ll never notice, he’d argue. “Oh wow, those are so pretty..” You say, your attention immediately drawn to the light blue flowers in his hand. He swallows hard. “Just like you.” He smiles softly, and hands them to you, and you graciously take them. He doesn’t miss the crimson blush that spreads over your cheeks to your ears. “Thank you, Eddie. Come in.” You bashfully say, stepping aside to let him in, and then shut your door. “I made us lunch. Um, I hope it’s to your liking.” He watches you walk into the kitchen, grab a small vase and add water to it, then place the flowers he picked out into it. “I’m sure I will love it. Let’s try that salad, huh?” He said and sat down at the table. 

It was close to 6 in the afternoon now, and Eddie was helping you clean up the dining table, his belly full of the delicious food you made. “Sooo…I could tell you liked the salad. Just admit it. Cucumbers are amazing.” You smirk, looking at him. “Whoa. Let’s not get crazy. You’re lucky that I am fond of you.” He throws the paper plates in the trash, with your approval of course. “But yes, it was really good, Y/N.” He smiles, looking back at you. “I wanted to ask you something now.” Eddie says, walking up to you as you stood by the kitchen entryway. You feel your heartbeat start to hammer in your chest at the close proximity. Noticing the faint freckles that paint his upper cheeks. He is so pretty. 

“My band is playing next weekend. At The Hideout. I would…really like for you to be there. We go on stage at 9..Not too late at night. And! You’ll get to meet my friends. Steven and Robin. Possibly Nancy. She doesn’t care for the loud music, so she doesn’t really go to these things.” He said, looking down at his feet, then up at you, trying to read your expression. “What if they don’t like me?” You say, your voice so small, you wanted to curl into yourself and disappear. His features soften, and he places his hand over yours, which was on the kitchen counter. 

“Believe me, they will love you.” He gives your hand a comforting caress, making you a blushing mess for what felt like the 50th time today.

 “I would love to meet them. And to see you perform.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm your anxiety. He could make out that you were a little hesitant in your response.    

 “Do I make you nervous?” He says suddenly, his eyes boring into yours. You freeze at his question, because it was as if his demeanor changed in a blink of an eye; from gentle to dominating. It was all in the way he looked at you with his dark eyes. 

“N-no. No, not really. I mean, I am just a shy person. I get nervous around new people. As you can tell.” You say. He takes your hand in his, holding it,  and flashes you a warm smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in with us. I promise. They don’t bite.” He then leans in, close to your ear, whispering. “Though, I do a little.” Eddie says, and patted your hand, smirking. He learned that he really liked to make you squirm, and see you flustered. Sometimes he would get this burst of confidence that he had to take advantage of. It’s how he got himself more gigs at The Hideout. How he got himself a better paying position as a mechanic at J’s Auto Service. That was a milestone, because he was able to save up enough money to get Wayne his own trailer a few blocks away, in a better neighborhood. He deserved it. 

You open the door for Eddie, smiling as you watch him check the doors hinges, making sure the lock worked well, for your safety, of course. “Well, have a great first day at work. If you need anything, give me a call, ok?” He assures you that giving him a call at work would be the highlight of his day. “And you can call me whenever you want too. You know I’m all alone here.” You giggle, biting your lower lip. The playful flirting that occurred throughout the day really put you in good spirits, giving you a tiny bit of confidence. “I’ll definitely remember that. Sleep well, princess.” Eddie smirks, and walks down your porch, but stops to look over your car. “You’ll need new tires soon. You should bring it into the shop during the week. I’ll take a look at it and do an inspection.” He then waves, giving you no time to answer. 

It’s Friday afternoon, and you had 2 hours left of your shift. Counting the minutes until it was 5:00. You didn’t mind the job, it was practically the same as your office position back at home; filing papers, taking calls and sending out emails all day. While this position gave you a bit more responsibility and tasks, the environment was relaxed and the rest of the staff seemed to be chill. One girl, Veronica, would come over and talk to you on her way back in from her smoke breaks. You remembered Eddie smelled the same. He must smoke often enough.

“Are you doing anything fun this weekend? Not much to do in Hawkins.” Veronica popped her chewing gum, playing with a strand of her long hair as she leaned at the reception desk, looking at you.

“I am, actually! My neighbor asked me to go to The Hideout. To see his band play.”

“Eddie Munson? Ugh. The Hideout is so gross. He always takes all the girls there.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she nonchalantly picked her nails, admiring the design painted on them. She’d excitedly showed them to you earlier in the day. Your heart nearly sunk to your ass hearing her say that. Were you just another easy girl to him? No way would you give yourself up that easily to Eddie, or any man for that matter, and you didn’t feel that you gave off that kind of energy. You wondered if his whole shy persona was just a ploy to sleep with you, and call it a day. You were sure you liked Eddie. And you thought he genuinely liked you too. He had been so kind to you throughout the week, you reminded yourself. Everytime you came home, roughly 15 minutes after him, he’d walk over and greet you. Ask about your day. Smile and even hug you goodnight after you two would chat for a bit. It was like clockwork, at this point.

“I don’t think this is a date. Just..him being a friendly neighbor.” You shrug, trying to sound indifferent to the news she just broke to you.

“Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but he most likely thinks it's a date. And will probably end up fucking you in that smelly, tiny bathroom in the back of the bar. He does this every time. Will fuck anything in a mini skirt.” She shrugged. “Just use protection, doll.” She winked at you and walked back to her cubicle, sighing loudly as she sat down. You try to blink away the stinging in your eyes, focusing your attention on your keyboard. You absolutely did not need to cry your first week at work. It would be almost as embarrassing as you falling for your next door neighbor in such a short span of time. 

It’s 5pm and you’re driving home, hoping you arrive before Eddie does. Luck must be on your side because you make it by 5:27, and quickly get out of your car, nearly tripping up the steps to your front door as you rush to pull out your key from your large purse. This stupid, big ass bag. You unlock your door, and shut it behind you, locking it back up. Your breathing is heavy as you let your body fall in disappointment. The sun shines through your kitchen window, illuminating the flowers he had picked out for you. They were still lively and vibrant. You made sure to change the water every couple of days to keep as so. You’re sulking as you decide to go and take a hot shower, to clear your mind. Then you hear his van roll in, music blasting from it. 

Eddie looks at your driveway to see your car parked, in a rather chaotic way. You must’ve been excited that it was Friday. Maybe you were excited to see him and wanted to share how crazy of a day you had. He hoped that was the case, since he was ecstatic to see you. On his way to work earlier today, he stopped by the record store next to the J’s Shop, and saw Alice Cooper’s new album, Hey Stoopid. He recalls you mentioning that you’d been looking for the vinyl, wanting to add it to your collection. He gathered the last few bills he had on him, and bought it for you. He figured he’d make some extra cash anyway at The Hideout before the show, selling to the usuals.

He knocks at your door, practically beaming. He’s so excited to gift you this album, knowing it would make you happy. That’s all he wants and cares about. When you don’t answer after his 4th knock, he tries a few more times. “Hm..” He ponders, and leans to the left, trying to peek into your living room window, but the curtain blocks anyone from seeing inside. “Hey, Y/N?” He calls out. He assumes you're in the bathroom when you don't answer, and decides to possibly try again later. He wouldn’t want to disturb your “you time” in there. You hear him jog back to his trailer, his chain wallet giving him away. You felt bad, but then remember what Veronica said to you earlier in the day. That was why you were avoiding him in the first place. Though, it would be impossible to do this everyday. Well, for now, you're just going to try your best to hide from him. That means, you’ll have to stand him up at The Hideout. You turn on the shower after stripping off your work clothes and stood there for what felt like hours, playing every scenario in your mind. 

Eddie is tapping his foot impatiently on his carpeted floor, his much more worn out than yours. It's close to 8:30p and you still haven't come over. And he's contemplating whether to go over to your house or not. Your lights are not on. He guesses you had a really bad day at work, and instead of bugging you, he leaves you to rest. The album can wait for tomorrow morning.

It’s bright and early, you can hear the birds chirping from your bedroom window. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groan, sitting up on your bed, looking over to look at the time. The clock read 09:47a. You better get up and make most of your Saturday as you do not plan on leaving your 4 walls tomorrow. You stretch as you stand up, and walk over to your fridge, and then jump at the loud knock. “Y/N!” a familiar voice calls out. Fuck. Ok, you need to at least confront him of his true intentions. Whether you were just another girl to him, and nothing more. You close up your robe a little as you drag your feet, letting out a shaky breath as you open the door. 

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes in relief. “ I was worried about you.” He said.

“Right..well. I’m ok. Just trying to rest up.” You said. He notices your tone is a bit more cold.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. I knocked yesterday, but didn’t see you. Did you have a bad day at work?” He said, frowning now. 

“You can say that-”

“Then I have something that will cheer you up! Close your eyes.” He grinned, practically jumping in excitement. You raise your brow, and hesitantly shut your eyes, then feel his warm hands grab yours, pulling them out in front of you. You feel a heavy-ish item now land on your hands and you immediately open your eyes. “Oh shit..” You hold the album, looking at it. It was a special edition one.

“Eddie..how’d you find this?” You say quietly, a smile growing on your face.

“Saw it at the record store. Had to get it for you.” He couldn’t be any prouder. He got you out of whatever slump you were feeling.

“Oh Eddie..I know this had to be expensive. Let me pay you back.” 

He shook those curls you were so crazy about. “Nope. I only request your presence tonight, sweetheart. Steve and Robin are dying to meet you.” He says, crossing his arms. Your gaze travels down to them, admiring the tattoos and oh. He’s caught you staring, that smirk on his face confirms that. “I-I will be there.” You nod, going against everything you said to yourself the night before. “Great! I have some errands to run, but I will see you tonight, darling.” He bows like you are his Queen, and you might as well be at this point. You giggle, and watch him go to this van, wave at you and drive off. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You’re standing in line at The Hideout, waiting to be let in. You assumed that you had to wait like everyone else. There weren't that many people, about 50 all together but judging by the size of the bar, it would be a full house. You dress in a low-cut top, purposely choosing one that showed a decent amount of cleavage. A cardigan rests over your arm, and you opted for black leggings, the ones that made your ass look the best. If Eddie really did intend for this to be a date, you might as well look the best you could, with what you currently had in your closet. You hear your name being called out, and you see Eddie jog over to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless DIO shirt, and leather pants, his combat boots all untied. He looks so good. You’re practically drooling.

“What are you doing here?” He incredulously asks.

“I..you invited me.” You play with your fingers, nails digging into your skin. 

“Babe, I meant in line.” He reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulls you out of the line, where all eyes then fall on you and him. You noticed a few girls eye Eddie, too. Almost like a prey. “You get backstage access, doll.” He whispers as he leanes into you, and smirks. “You’re VIP.” He holds your hand, and takes you to the back of the bar, opening the door that lead you inside. “After you.” He says, eyes falling to your ass. It looked so plump in those pants, so biteable.  

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, admiring the subtle make up you had on. It wasn’t much, just some mascara and eyeliner. A little foundation to hide any blemishes and imperfections. “I like this top.” He runs his fingers over the fabric near your collarbone. Your cheeks heat up, as you send him a smile, looking down all shyly. 

“Eddie!” A man calls out, and you look to your left. You assume that is Steve, and a girl walking alongside with him. Robin? 

“Hey, man. Glad you could make it. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N…this is Steve and Robin. And as I assumed, Nancy did not make it today.”

“Or ever. You know this isn’t her scene. She’s out with Jonathan, anyway.” Steve shrugged and turned his attention towards you. “Nice to meet you. Eddie has talked non stop about you.” He smirks over at Eddie who is internally cussing him out. “Let’s go get some good seats.” Robin smiles at you, and grabs your arm, locking it with hers as she pulls you to the stage floor. 

“Ughhh Steve, why’d you say that? Now she’s going to think I’m obsessed.” Eddie rubs his face, giving him a look.

“Are you not?” Steve smirks, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Eddie shook his head and bit his nails, nervously. “I like her, alot.” He admitted to Steve, eyes following you around as Robin decided which area was the best to stand at. He liked how nervous you were around him. You were the sweetest girl he’d ever known. On the opposite end, he also felt like a creep though. All the perverse thoughts he had about you. They’d come to him when he was in bed late at night, a rhythmic movement of his hand over his aching cock as he'd imagine his tongue deep in your wet, throbbing pussy, satisfying his hunger. 

“I gotta get onstage, and set up.” He says to Steve, wanting to avoid any more of Steve’s banter. He nods, then meets up with you and Robin on the stage floor. Your gaze follows Eddie onstage, where he and the rest of the band finish setting up. He winks at you, and tunes his guitar. Most of all the equipment is there, just had to be connected and set up in the proper place.

“You excited to see the show? They’re actually really good! It’s a shame they haven’t been signed by a record label yet.” Robin says. You are caged in, front row, between both Robin and Steve. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just..don’t want to get my hopes up. Feelings hurt and all.” You say softly, seeing all the people from outside being let in.

“What do you mean? Their songs are not really offensive.” Robin says.

“Well, unless you’re someone with sensitive hearing. They’re loud.” Steve snorts.

“No, I mean. I don’t want Eddie to see me as..like the other girls that he brings here?” You say, a little unsure if you are going to get your point across. Their his friends, obviously they’re going to take his side. 

Steve snorts again. “What girls?” 

“All..the girls..?” You say, feeling a bit foolish at that moment. “This chick I work with knows Eddie. Says he brings all his dates here. And uhm, has his way with them. I'm not-it's not that I'm not attracted to him. He's super handsome, but I don't want it to be that type of date. I like him and don’t want it to be a one night stand type of date..” You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. 

Steve and Robin both start to laugh, a good belly laugh, which makes Eddie look at you three. What are they telling you about him?

“Y/N. He's NOT like that. At all. I don't know who that chick is, but Eddie is lucky if he's able to get a girl to look his way anymore.” Robin said. 

“I mean, he's had girlfriends and dates, sure. But to say he brings all the girls here like he's some ladies man, is comical.” Steve said.  “But don't tell him we said that.” He smirks. “Eddie is a great guy, Y/N. And I'm not just saying that because he's my best friend.” Steve looked up at him. “Shows starting.” He says to you, nudging your shoulder with his as the lights dim, and a loud guitar note plays. The stage area is packed with all the people from outside, and they cheer.  The band seems to have a large following, people singing along to the songs. A lot of older, trucker looking guys and scattered were lots of girls too, older and younger, like yourself. In the middle of the setlist, you see Eddie grab the mic, placing his foot on the amp as he addresses the crowd, thanking them for coming out and supporting the band. He had a little surprise for you, and hoped you listened to Alice Cooper’s previous album, Trash, because he was going to cover one of the songs on there. He figured he’d take the risk and sing Spark in the Dark.  The lyrics were quite suggestive, and maybe tonight, he’d be brave enough to make a first move. 

You immediately recognized the guitar riff to the song, a big smile forming on your face, as you were by now more relaxed and enjoying the show, just like Robin and Steve suggested.

“Ah, welcome to the party.

It’s only me and you

Tell the world to go away, babe

And I’ll tell you what to do

Come over here and kiss me

I wanna pull your hair

Turn out the lights and hold me

I wanna touch you everywhere”

You sing along, all while your face is burning from the blush that spread over your cheeks, and thankful the stage lights are not pointed directly at you. You were certain you’d combust. You also notice a familiar sensation, one that was directly between your thighs. One that needed to be taken care of. Preferably by the front man looking down at you.

“We don’t need nobody, baby

We don’t need champagne

I’ll take you to the deepest

Darkest, hottest lover’s lane

For a little spark in the dark

Just a little spark in the dark.”

You’re staring at each other as he sings the song. You’re singing along, and he’s so good up there. Your favorite rockstar. You notice his hips move a little with every enunciation during the chorus. He grabs the mic stand, placing the mic on it as the guitar rests over his hips, hiding the semi he’s rocking right now thanks to the song’s lyrics and the perfect view he has of your cleavage. 

“I’ll come ‘round midnight

We’ll be crawling on the floor

Burnin’ with a fever

And yellin’ out for more

But don’t you write in your diary, baby

Don’t blab it on the phone

‘Cause if your dad and mom find out, 

They’ll skin me to the bone.

We don’t need instructions, baby

Don’t you be afraid

It takes a little friction, uh-uh

That’s how our love is made 

For a little spark in the dark.”

You want to melt into a puddle once the song is finished, noticing the sweat that glistens his skin, still sporting that sleeveless tank top. He sings a few more covers, and once the show is over, he bows to everyone, then directly tosses you a guitar pick. You’re giddy, as you’re bouncing on your tippy toes, holding it between your fingers.

“Look at the fangirl, now.” Robin smirks, clapping as the band gets off stage. “We get backstage privileges, being long time friends of the band and all.” She laughs, walking to the back of the bar, noticing the crowd had spread out between leaving for the night, and others to sit at the bar. You follow Robin and Steve, until you reach a room that almost looked like a utility room with all the amps.”Hey!” Eddie says, wiping the sweat off with a small towel. He looks directly at you, as if Robin and Steve aren’t even in the room. “That was amazing! And…the cover was really good, too.” You blush and try not to be too obvious as your eyes scan his body. His shirt is all damp from his sweat, shirt stuck to his body. You could make out his toned stomach. 

“I’d give you a thank you hug, but I smell. And I’m all sweaty.” He chuckles, noticing you shifting a little, your thighs pressing together. He gives you a little knowing smirk, and pulls out a cigarette, but Robin is quick to snatch it.

“No smoking. Especially not around your date.” Robin speaks out.

“You’re right. Bad habit, and manners. Sorry. sweetheart.” He cheekily smiles and puts away the pack of cigarettes.

“We gotta get going, but we’ll see you later, Eds. Come on Steve. Remember…we had that thing we had to do..” Robin says, pulling him on his arm. “OH right! That thing. Yes. Alright, you two have a good and eventful night. Nice meeting you, Y/N! We look forward to seeing you again real soon!!” Steve says as both him and Robin go running out. You let out a soft laugh then look over at Eddie, who is looking at you, not once did his sight move away from you.

“Can we..talk?” You say to him. 

Oh fuck, did he do something wrong? Was it the way he was looking at you? Shit. 

“Of course. We can step outside. It’s hot as fuck in here.” He says and you both walk out into the back of the bar, the loud slam of the door shutting making you jump. Eddie is nervous now. He’s sure you’re about to break the news to him that you don’t want anything to do with him. Maybe you found out of his late night activities, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He was sure you partake in those kinds of solo activities. Maybe you believed he was truly a devil worshipper. How can he convince you otherwise?

“I uhm, almost didn’t come tonight.” You start. 

This makes his chest feel heavy. He’d done something, surely. 

“How come?” His voice is small.

“I was stupid. I believed something someone at my job said about you.” Your stare is focused on the littered and dirty floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. You felt ashamed.

“What’d they say about me?” 

“I-I don’t-”

“What’d they say about me, Y/N? I assure you..I’ve heard it all. I’m used to it at this point in my life.” He says, his tone was a bit more irate and cold than what you were used to him being with you. Your eyes took no time in watering, and now Eddie was ready to throw himself off a cliff for making you feel this way.    He really fucked this up already, as he always does. Good job, Munson.

“She said that…you basically slept around. That you take them here on dates, and..and take them to that nasty bathroom for a quick fuck. Eddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed something like that. I just, I got scared to have my feelings and emotions played with. I didn’t want to be just another girl added to your roster.” You try to keep your composure as you talk to him, your eyes are for sure still watery, but by some miracle, you didn’t stutter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t have much experience with this. Like, yeah. I’ve done a few dates and all, but I've never had a boyfriend or had anyone touch me, or-”

“Sweetheart, it's ok.” Eddie takes a step forward and grabs both your shaky hands, holding them in his, practically engulfing them. “Look at me.” His voice is low, and he places a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “I promise you, I am not that type of person. People will say a million things about me, and I can guarantee that most of them are just rumors. I certainly do not sleep around. I can't remember the last time I had a legitimate date with someone, let alone fuck someone.” He risked making himself look a loser just to make you feel better. His hand goes up to your cheek, and caresses it, letting out a chuckle. “Baby, there's no one I desire more than you…and I want to kiss you so bad.” He whispers, taking another step forward, his scent invading you. “Give me a chance to prove to you..I'm not like whatever these stupid fucks said about me.” His lips are impossibly close to yours, making your breath hitch at the close proximity. “Kiss me.” His voice is raspy. You embrace each other, your lips pressing together as the kiss deepens slowly. It was the first time you've experienced a true, deep kiss. You were sure he could tell. You opened your mouth, letting his hot tongue in to glide along yours and the quiet whine you let out makes him want to take you right there and then. You were inexperienced, yes, but quickly learned to breathe through your nose and move your mouth with his. Eddie's hand rested on your hips, and the other was around the nape of your neck, pulling you against him even closer, wanting to hear those  whines again. 

“Alright, get a room, you two.” Gareth groaned, hauling the large amp into the van that was a few feet away from you both. You blush heavily as you both simultaneously pull away from each other. “We will continue this at your place? I got to finish helping the guys..” Eddie breathed heavy, a similar rosy shade painted over his cheeks. 

“Yes, I'll leave my door unlocked. You can just come in..” 

“Hm, sweetheart. I don't think that's a good idea. What if the big, bad wolf gets in? And wants to eat yah?” Eddie smirks. 

“I certainly count on it.”

[callixpene]

L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 2: FOURTH CONVERGENCE

Note: Starting from Part 2, some or all of the Love Interest's perspectives will be meshed together.

MASTERLIST for Part 1 is here(In case you haven't read it): ALL LIs - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN

The previous part to this fic is here: XAVIER & SYLUS POV - PART 2: THIRD CONVERGENCE

The next part to this fic is here: ALL LIs POV: FIFTH CONVERGENCE

RAFAYEL, ZAYNE & CALEB - PART 2: FOURTH CONVERGENCE

Rafayel X OC. Zayne X OC. Caleb X OC.

Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.

Genre: Fluff, Some Angst

"Care to tell me why you lot are causing a ruckus in my lobby?"

Steven Kingsley's expression was the perfect picture of indifference, one wouldn't be able to tell what he was about to do next.

Rafayel stood in the center of Mr. Kingsley's inordinate office, feeling somewhat agitated.

Beside him, were the two men who had reprimanded him earlier for being 'troublesome' towards the receptionist.

One of them had jet black hair, green eyes, and he was wearing a simple long-sleeved black button up with dark pants.

The other one had brown hair, purple eyes(somewhat similar to his own, but Rafayel concluded his irises were still far superior to his) and he was dressed in a simple corporate suit, as if he were here for some job interview.

Clearly, these two have no fashion sense whatsoever, he thought. Rafayel wouldn't be caught dead in either of those outfits.

"If none of you are going to speak up, I'm going to have to tell my security to drag you all out of the premises, then I'll have your faces plastered on the gates and tell the keepers not to let any one of you enter this place again."

Mr. Kingsley held his palm up when he detected that the three of them were about to start rambling their reasons out in unison. "One at a time, please." He said in an exasperated tone.

"Fine then, I'll go first." Rafayel said, before the others got a chance to speak.

"My name is Rafayel, Sir. I'm a painter with my own art studio, Mo Art Studio, perhaps you've heard of it, it's located at Whitesand Bay. I'm here to see your daughter, Nerissa. She was at my Art Exhibition earlier, and in her haste, she dropped her handbag." Rafayel lifted the handbag to show Mr. Kingsley that he was telling the truth. "I wanted to return it to her myself, because.... because...I didn't trust anyone else to do it. You know....with her credit cards and IDs here and all! Pretty important and confidential stuff! Oh, and I also kind of wanted to personally thank her for attending my Exhibition. That's the reason I'm here."

Rafayel was silently praying that Mr. Kingsley would buy his lame excuse to see his daughter unannounced like this. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow when Mr. Kingsley's expression did not shift one bit.

Beside him, the black haired man pinched the top of his nose bridge and shook his head slightly, as if in disapproval.

The brown haired man on the other hand, discreetly covered his mouth and looked as if he were suppressing a small laugh.

These Goddamn jerks!

Rafayel shot them both with a ticked off look.

"Mr. Rafayel. From Mo Art Studio. I know who you are. My daughter, Nerissa has been a very big fan of you and your work for years now." Mr. Kingsley replied.

Rafayel immediately turned to face him upon hearing this. "She has?"

"Yes. In fact, all of her spaces at our home are furnished with some of your paintings."

"But...but if she was a fan of my work, if she was a fan of me, why did she seem so...so uncomfortable with me?" Rafayel asked no one in particular. He felt his chest ache as he recalled how she practically shoved him, to get away from him.

Mr. Kingsley sighed. "You see....All of my daughters have been through things no one should have ever gone through, especially as children. It took many, many, years to heal their hidden wounds, one by one. Unfortunately, there are some wounds, that will leave deep scars, forever. It is only with time, that one will find the strength to face those that have caused those wounds in the first place." He said, as his gaze lingered on each one of them.

Rafayel and the brown haired man both faced him bearing the same expression - deep concern and frantic questioning.

What had happened to the sisters?

To Nerissa?

"Jasmine told me." Zayne said, and they all turned to face him. "About what happened to them."

*****

"I also know who you are: Dr. Zayne, a renowed cardiac surgeon from Akso Hospital. Because of your immense expertise in cardiothoracic surgery, and your exceptional reputation as a doctor, I personally chose you as Jasmine's new primary care physician. I wanted to ensure she had the best doctor looking after her." He paused. "How much...did he tell you exactly?"

"She said that when she and her sisters were children, they were all experimented on, and five fragments of an Aether core had each been imbedded in their hearts."

"Experimented?!"

"Who the hell would do such a thing?!"

Caleb and the other man, Rafayel, exclaimed aloud, clearly taken aback with this crucial bit of information, about the women they so dearly cared about.

Zayne continued: "Jasmine said you had all the fragments removed, then you had them all destroyed. I fully understand why you had done so. Those cores will bring nothing but trouble."

"Is that all she told you?"

"Yes Sir." Zayne nodded. "She told me, because it seems that the core's implantation in her heart when she was young was likely the reason why she'd been experiencing substantial chest pain for days."

"Dr. Zayne." Mr. Kingsley said. "Please make sure Jasmine gets better. What she didn't tell you was, the fragment implanted within her in particular was the largest amongst all the ones imbedded within all my daughters. I often worry, because she is the only one who has continued experiencing these symptoms long after the fragments have been removed. Please make sure you heal her." Mr. Kingsley replied in a somber tone, but there was a subtle stress in the way he enunciated the word 'heal' as he said that to Zayne.

Zayne nodded his head in response. "As her primary care physician, I will ensure that she will always be at the best of health, as long as she is in my care." And in future, as her lover, he would always ensure that he would take care of her to the best of his ability, so she will never fall ill again, or fall into despair, again.

"So why come here all of a sudden Dr. Zayne? I was informed that her next checkup with you was a week from now."

Zayne's gaze turned towards the bouquet of jasmines he brought with him, it lay atop the marble accent table where he had placed it. Then, he faced Mr. Kingsley, his expression as determined as ever. "I've come to see your daughter, personally, bouquet in hand, on a day where I am currently not clocked in as her doctor." He paused, then bowed fully at Mr. Kingsley. "Surely Sir, you already understand what my intentions are."

Mr. Kingsley was silent for a moment, as if he were assessing the situation. Then, he simply uttered:

"I see."

Then, as Zayne fixed his stance, Mr. Kingsley's gaze shifted towards Caleb.

"Now you. What do you have to say for yourself, pilot?"

*****

"Sir." Caleb started. "I was here for the interview, to be one of your engineers. I will wait for the notification of when the new schedule will be."

Sure, he was in front of Mr. Kingsley right now, but there were entirely different matters being discussed at hand at the moment.

He will have to force his whole being to wait another couple of weeks, in his estimation, for the interview schedule. And he could bear it, he thought, so long as he could still see Lilian by befriending her, so could still be around her at the very least.

His initial plans would have to take a backseat for now, as the first step(getting the job as an Aerospace Engineer)already proved to be quite the bottleneck. He was willing to wait for any length of time, as long as it guaranteed that Lilian will be by his side at the very end of it all.

"Interview? No, you might have misunderstood. There was no interview to be had with you." Mr. Kingsley replied to him.

Caleb's heart dropped to its stomach.

NO. No. He can't have been mistaken. This can't be, his plans-

"With your credentials, top of the class of the Aerospace Academy, as well as all the recommendations from your instructors and praises I've heard from the higher ups at the DAA, I've already decided to give you the position. You will be working directly under me, by the way. I expect great things from you."

Caleb's horror immediately dissolved.

Now, he was absolutely ecstatic.

He definitely was God's favorite, he thought, at this moment in time.

"Thank you so much Mr. Kingsley!" This time, he was the one who bowed fully, in gratitude. "I swear I will never let you down!"

"Also," Mr. Kingsley said, as Caleb stood upright, "I thank you, for bringing my youngest, Lilian, back home safely. That daughter of mine, she's very delicate. I worry about her a lot as well."

Caleb's heart fluttered and his face flushed at the mere thought of his Lilian.

"Well.....is that all you're going to say, boy?"

Caleb was confused. "I...I beg your pardon Sir?"

Mr. Kingsley strode towards them.

"That one" Mr. Kingsley said as he pointed to Rafayel. "Is here to see my daughter, Nerissa. Then that one." This time, he pointed at Zayne. "Is here to see my daughter, Jasmine." Then, for the first time during this entire exchange they had, Mr. Kingsley smiled slightly. "And judging by the obvious lovelorn expression your face shifted into the moment I said my youngest's name, clearly it seems you've come here, for Lilian."

Caleb gulped.

Oh, he certainly hit the nail on the coffin.

Mr. Kingsley crossed his arms in front of them all. "Three admirers, pining for each of my daughters. It's rather difficult being a father isn't it?" He asked no one in particular. " I'll tell you boys what, head back to the lobby and talk to the two men you all saw came down with me earlier over there."

The blond man, and the one with the white hair, Caleb recalled.

"I gave both of them a challenge. And now, you three will have to go through the exact same thing. Hopefully, at least one of them will bother to let you know what you need to do. The clock is ticking after all." Then, Mr. Kingsley smirked. "Because I am not telling you all more than that."

FOURTH CONVERGENCE IS OUT😁🫶

Please stay tuned for the last of Part 2, Fifth Convergence. Hopefully in this one, all 5 LIs' perspectives will fit🙏

Thank you so much to everyone reading this series❤️

I hope you're all enjoying it🥹

Tell your thoughts in the comments what you think of this series so far.

It will be highly appreciated💜🩵🩷❤️🧡

[bovinewriter]

THE CHRISTMAS CHAPTER IS FINALLY OUT, IGNORE THE CALLANDER I KNOW IT'S LATE- I LOVE POSTING CHAPTERS AT UNGODLY HOURS.

Anyway I hope you all enjoy it. But there is some important info that I'll put under the cut.

I'll go ahead and keep this brief. I'll be taking a break from writing for about a month or two. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning the fic. But i need y'all to remember that I started this at like the end of May/start of June, and I've cranked out 21 chapters now in the span of like 8 months, not counting the lack of chapter in January. Basically I need a break.

Since the Puzzle park chapter I had gotten a bit burned out, and the fact that Mr. Puzzles is stuck in jail in canon really hinders the motivation. But hey I can use this break time to plan things out because I hadn’t planned out a whole lot other than the important plot points, I don’t have much for like, the meat of some chapters, just a skeleton.

Sooo yeah, that's about all I needed to say. I do wanna thank you all for sticking around for this long. For all the nice comments both here and on ao3. And of course all the wonderful fanart I've gotten. It's like fuel to me, I'm eating them. I hope you guys won't mind the break, think of it like a mid season hiatus of a show. I'll be back eventually, prommy.

Also you're not getting a Valentine's day chapter. Sorry not sorry but it ain't happening. Use your imagination, Insert and Puzzles were too cringefail that the chapter can't exist. If you got problems then take it up with Switch idc.

And with that, I'm going to bed. I wish you all a good day/night/whatever.

This has been your very reliable Narrator. Thanks for reading.

(I'll still answer asks though and post art. So this place won't be entirely dead during the break.)

[halfbaked00q]

okay as an admitted did-not-watch-NTTD'er who got, like, all of their info from uhh recappers, the wiki synopsis, the specific clips with Q I watched, and whatever I osmosis'ed from fics.

I finally watched the beginning of NTTD at @prismatic-bell's nudging. And I was like. Okay wait. wait wait wait. This is... well-written? And shot and directed & acted?? In a hollywood movie lmao?? Like. The way it's set up w Madeleine's backstory, and then the Bond & Madeleine stuff that does a much better job of establishing their relationship, the goooorgeous wide shots.

I admittedly was rather "I close my eyes I do not see" to a lot of canon - coming from partially a comics fandom background I'm very aware, well-versed, and well-practiced in the 'canon is your pick-and-choose buffet no need to feel like you have to 'respect' the 'sanctity' of 'canon' esp when it's Bad (like it contradicts other canon or you can just Tell this character was Not Written Well and it's like, here's what it could be that is better)' - and from opinions I saw on NTTD I was expecting to be very pick & choose about it.

But okay, wait. wait wait wait. It works. The beginning at least which I watched. Works. Like, it establishes a key character moment for Madeleine that Explains Everything about her behavior, actually - like she just like Bond is actually also very traumatized & has been locking it down/deflecting it vs processing it, and the whole like Vesper thing is (to me) very obviously her misdirecting Bond away from her own Goin Thru It. I can see how it can read as very suspicious to Bond esp with everything else but it, like, is a Narrative and Makes Sense for her character and Works. wild.

Even the Bond stuff makes a ton of sense. Like, when I hadn't watched it and was going off second & third hand information, one of the things I was hrrrm ?? about was the. How do you get from the guy who says "I miss you" at Vesper's grave, to the guy who put Madeleine on the train. The man who, even after finding out Vesper betrayed him, still wanted to save her? Would... send Madeleine away? In what, a fit of pique? Surely he's more of a "run to me and I will handle it" if it turns out not to be true or a "if it is, I'll handle it" kind of guy.

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IT WAS. YOU KNOW WHAT IT FUCKING WAS LMAO. I WAS MISLED BY THE FUCKIN. BILLIE EILISH SONG LMAO. The lyrics of it make it SOUND like it's a like "you betrayed/cheated on me how could I have ever trusted you" break-up song kind of situation. BUT IT ABSOLUTELY FCKN WASN'T LMAO.

It's like. two traumatized individuals who trauma-bonded and honestly maybe should have spent time apart healing/learning themselves again before re-evaluating if they think a relationship could work, but like. they both were Goin Thru It and let themselves get carried away with it ig. And then right when Madeleine was like. hm I've been Not Dealing with this a Lot (tbh her being a psychologist probably made it worse cuz I think it made her more effective at Not Dealing With It and deflecting/misdirecting, but like. I don't think she was doing it intentionally, I think it was just a "combination of circumstances" thing. But this also works cuz I think before the like why did Madeleine push him towards Vesper again even though he said she was in his past. And it's like. She was delaying dealing with HER shit and probably unconsciously deflected his attention by poking at waht she thinks is still HIS equivalent to her baggage) where was I. Oh yeah, Madeleine is like. hm. yeah. the whole letting go of secrets thing. I. need to come clean to him...

but then all of the Spectre stuff happens.

Even the him sitting in the car thing is soooo so so. Cuz Craig absolutely put his whole pussy in the acting for this scene. he's got that like. wrong side of overstimulated so you shoot past being in the zone and instead are zoning out lowkey thing going on, mixed with the like. agent faced with a hopeless situation Observing Everything still but like vaguely morbidly amused about it, probably what's running through the brain rn is "lmao, wonder which bullet will be The One" kind of deal. And cross-cutting the shooting & wide shots with the bells was *chefs kiss* genius.

Even Madeleine not managing to tell him was well written/paced. Cuz it was very believable that she (not trained for this) was scared/shocked & couldn't get a word out. Until the "JAMES. I'd rather die than have you think I--" and then the fucking. tragedy of the bad timing. god. And then even her not just saying it later is like, it all makes sense with the way it was paced, shot, & edited. It was beaaautiful oh man. This also where I was like. damn lmao. miscommunication in a movie where it. feels like it makes sense and isn't just a stupid macguffin lol??? In a hollywood movie?? wild

but yeah this is also where it was like. hey wait. the man who, in the face of sort of a morbid (passively?) suicidal emotional blowout due to the Everything, but was able to break through it when she got through to him enough for him to look at her, and her to cry & shake her head like no, it's not true/no don't do this/please/(w.e). and go, "Okay." and take action. How does he put her on the train??

BUT. BUT FUCKING. BUT THEN. MY GOD. *Actually* watching the fucking scene I was like. Ooooh. ough ough oh god. This isn't him vindicatively cutting her out of his life "the bitch is dead" style. This is his Vesper in the elevator cage moment. He's fucking drowning in the cage but he doesn't want to take her with him. He's locking her out of the cage. god.

And the fucking. devastation on his face while he's on the platform. THAT'S HIS FUCKIN. VESPER HOLDING HIM ONE LAST TIME AND SHOVING HERSELF TO TH EBACK OF THE CAGE AAARGGGGHH BARK BARK BARK

Which, a-fucking-gain. THEN MAKES THE NO TIME TO DIE SONG. ALL THE FUCKING MORE EGREGIOUS LMAO. "was I stupid to love you was I foolish to trust was it obvious to everybody else" WHAT ARE YOU ON. THIS IS A SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGEDY THIS ISN'T FUCKIN. 'THE BITCH IS DEAD.'

God this is like when ppl are convinced QoS was Bond going on a revenge rampage when he was (1) not even rampaging (2) not on a revenge quest/storyline - that was Camille's story!!!* caveat I did not watch QoS either lol, but I did watch a video essay breaking it down which I found Very Compelling and have since incorporated it into my worldview lmao. Like, in light of me actually watching the beginning of NTTD, and then it launching into the title sequence and the song. IT ACTIVELY. REWRITES HISTORY YOU JUST WATCHED ON THE SCREEN AAAGGGHHH BITE CHOMP KILL. IT UNDERMINES THE WHOLE. ALL OF THE WORK THE FILMMAKERS DID UP TO THAT POINT IN PLOTTING OUT ACTING OUT & ESTABLISHING THE STORY TO THIS POINT.

Like. The problem of the song isn't even oh it's a limited POV thing. IT'S NOT EVEN WAHT BOND'S POV WOULD HAVE BEEN/SHOULD HAVE BEEN BY THAT POINT. Again, this is the "the bitch is dead" edit of the scene, BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. THIS IS BOND LOWKEY SPIRALING AND LIKE. OVERSTIMULATED-EXTREME-EMOTIONAL-AMBUSH-IN-A-VERY-SHORT-TIME LOWKEY EMOTIONALLY SPINNING OUT. BUT THEN BREAKING THRU IT ENOUGH WHEN MADELEINE CALLED FOR HIM. TO LOCK HER OUT OF HIS SINKING CAGE. BRUH. BE SO FORREAL RN.

also lmao she clutches her torso WAY too high up, bruh that's her sternum not her belly... but ig the idea translates across still.

but yeah. god. And here I thought No Time to Die the song was just. boring & musically uninspiring. but no. it's so much worse lmao. god.

[chaoortu]

How do you go about keeping characters well..in character?

Asking because I read through your fic anatomy of a terrarium thus far, and I´ve never read a story where Nick has bipolar. But I read through it and go wow yeah I I´m still reading about Nick. I´m still reading him going through all this, Charlie helping him (or at least trying to). This still feels like canon even with it delving into much darker topics (like Nick using drugs, and him dealing with getting raped, amongst others)

Idk if I worded this awkwardly but basically, you just handled all these guys so well and I wanna know more about your process!

you didn't ask this awkwardly at all! So for me at least, I'm always like "man i wonder if this is ooc or if it feels as ooc for readers as it does for me the writer" something that helps is that i frequently reread or rewatch the canon if i feel like something i'm doing is veering too ooc for me to get away with. specifically the darker chapters or the more serious t.v episodes (the cinema episode in season one, the gcse bonfire in season 2, and the third episode of season 3 especially.) this keeps my characterization more consistent and refreshes me on tone. i also try to make narrative choices that make sense given what we know in canon. nick obviously has no signs of being bipolar in canon, that's something i came up with on my own, but he does use alcohol to numb himself during the Halloween episode of season 3 (and it's the first time we see him presumably drunk, as he does not drink that much when Charlie is around.) so I took that canon nugget and let it snowball into nick using drugs in the anatomy of a terrarium series (I have a lot of thoughts about substance abuse and how it's portrayed in media. generally i could see a nick who doesn't get help struggle with substance abuse in the future but that's a topic for another time.) i have a post somewhere where i dug into nick's mentality following his sexual assault and how much i based that around how he acts in canon. i'll link it here in case you'd like to read it but it's a good example of what i mean above! here I also go into a lot of my angst fics with the intention of using the angst, whether it be substance abuse, mental illness, terminal illness, etc, to say something about the characters and how they would act if those things happened instead of just having those things happen to them for the sake of it. Because I go into the idea with that in mind, it makes it easier to write them behaving similarly to how they do in canon. I also tend to base the angst off of my own experiences either going through things or witnessing loved ones around me going through them and that helps to keep things more grounded. and a lot of it just comes from experience and writing a lot. even though i've only been posting hs fic for like... maybe a year? maybe less, i've been writing fic in other fandoms for a decade at this point and when i'm not writing fics, i'm working on my own novels so i am literally writing every single day (it's my hobby and i love it to bits!!!) sticking to core canon things to make a fic read as "in character" is a skill in of itself. i look back on my first hs fics and i cringe a little because i can see my own inexperience with the characters in them. i would also say that even in my darker fits, i try to make sure everything ends happily or ends with a happy for now, and i think that promise of a happy ending keeps the whole fic feeling closer to canon because heartstopper will have a happy ending and we know nick and charlie stay together forever.

[herearedragons]

ahem now it's only fair that you talk about YOUR watcher's relationship with Edér because i want to know everything please and thank you 😊😊😊

EYES START GLOWING LIKE AN ANIME CHARACTER

ahem yes hello hi welcome to herearedragons dot tumblr dot com where being not normal about Selene (my moon godlike cipher) and Edér is my favorite pastime.

Selene's thing is that she's a cipher with Big Trauma from growing up in an Ondrite cult that almost ritually drowned her, and her first moment relating to Edér comes when she realizes the way he talks about Eothas reminds her a lot of how she feels about being an Ondrite: this thing that used to bring you comfort, walking through the halls of a temple and knowing that miracles are real, but it's gone now. gone because your god has directly or indirectly ordered your death, and you have chosen to live, and now you can never go back.

all throughout POE1 Edér is her closest friend out of all the canon companions, partially because she relates to him, partially because listening to his thoughts grounds her (she can't really turn off her telepathy but she can choose when and where to tune in), and partially because she just. likes him. his attitude of "you can tear your hair out and check yourself into the sanitarium, or you can keep going", his ability to find joy in the small things despite everything he's been through, his faith in people and his ability to understand what they feel. and for Edér, well, he really just needs a purpose and an excuse to do anything other than let Gilded Vale eat him alive, and following a shiny stranger is as good a reason as any, and at first she's weird and alien and impossible to read, but there are things about her he understands. he knows she's been through something bad, because the signs he sees in her he's seen in other soldiers and in himself. he knows she's keeping it to herself, and he doesn't pry because it's none of his business, but he also knows it can get lonely going like this, so he offers a little support, in whatever way she'll accept it. conversations by the campfire. he keeps her distracted with jokes. he tries to figure out if there's a substance she can take to make the voices in her head quieter - hey, he's got his whiteleaf, right? might work for her too.

basically not to quote my own post but before there ever was an "I love you" or even a "you're my friend" between these two there was an "I want you to live" and that's really the Edérene Thesis if I'm being real.

everything under the readmore is SPOILERS so everyone who hasn't finished the White March Part II DLC: DON'T LOOK

okay so The White March. The Ondra DLC. The Ondra And Abydon Were In Love DLC. the "wish they knew you like I did" DLC. that DLC.

my first iteration of Selene's White March arc had her stay behind to strike the crystal and realize some Feelings upon hearing Edér's "wish they knew you like I did" line, but the rewrite that eventually became the "canon" version for me is SO much more fun to me.

I wrote a whole fic about it and I am legally obligated to plug it here. it's like 10K words in total.

the short version is: Selene is DEEPLY unwell about the Abbey of the Fallen Moon and the Low Tide because that's what SHE was. when her cipher powers awakened supplicants would come to her to have painful memories removed, remembered by her instead, and when she couldn't bear it anymore she was supposed to be drowned like the Low Tide. but she wasn't. she killed four priests and escaped.

coming back to the White March, realizing that the Eyeless are Ondra's, feels like her decades of running away brought her exactly to where she started. a dread settles in. she's going to die here.

but she's stronger now. not alone. she resists. she defies Ondra again. she sets the Low Tide free. she reads past her words and realizes that she was in love with the god she killed.

Ondra decides to teach her a lesson.

there's no choice, when it comes to striking the crystal. Ondra sweeps in and floods the cave, and when the water recedes, almost all of Selene's party is by the exit, and one of them is near the crystal, with the hammer. and it's Edér. and there is a cave-in separating him from the exit.

see, Ondra saw her godlike standing there, having defied her over and over again, confident, in love (and she hasn't even realized it yet), and decided to put Selene in her place. make her choose between saving everyone and saving the man she loves.

Edér tells her to leave him. she tries to argue, but, eventually, she does. out in the snow, she collapses and communes with the Eyeless, and asks them to rebuild Abydon, to rebuild him angry, so he can hurt Ondra like she never could.

and then Edér survives. he's carried out of the cave by the spirits of the Forge. they both make it. and, at some point, Selene realizes two things:

- Ondra chose Edér as a direct stand-in for Abydon, because Selene loves him

- if she tries to act on her feelings, Ondra just might try to kill him again just out of pettiness

so Selene decides, well, it's fine. she doesn't really need anything more than they have right now, anyway. just having him around is enough. which serves her alright until Thaos is dead and Edér leaves to find his own way or whatever and she's UNWELL. she buries herself in work (restoring Dunryd Row after Lady Webb's death) and tries not to think about it (she's thinking about it.)

......about two years later she gets a letter from Edér saying that he settled down in Dyrford and inviting her over, and she starts visiting, and it takes a few months before Edér realizes having her in his house feels right in a way that probably Means Something aaaaand he confesses to her and she's not made of stone so she confesses right back and then they kiss about it. and by the time Deadfire rolls around they've been together for a couple of years and HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I think you might have to send me a separate ask about that one because it's a WHOLE OTHER THING and I've already typed out a lot but: basically I'm rewriting a lof of things about Deadfire Edér. kind of have to because they're Already In A Relationship. Bearn is still there. Selene is doing badly again. then she gets better. Selene has to confront the fact that, being elf-born, she's going to outlive Edér by A LOT. they have a breakup arc and then get married midgame.

.......also idk if you want to read Edér x Watcher fic it's like. most of my fic these days dhsjdhdkdndj you can look at the Pillars fic list in my pinned post or in my "#edérene tag" tag or on my AO3 or whatever, I. literally cannot shut up about them. emotional load bearing sun/moon ship

[wisteria-lodge]

"I think Draco is fun to ship with any of the Golden Trio, because they've all got that martyr streak and Draco is a survivor, so they clash in interesting ways and end up balancing each other out." Could you explain more for Harry and Draco, and Ron and Draco?

Harry's martyr streak runs pretty heavily through the text. Hermione calls it his "saving-people-thing" and absolutely calls him out on the fact that he is very, very willing to put himself at risk or sabotage himself if it's in service of Someone Else or the Greater Good. An entire genre of Drarry fic features Harry-as-Miserable-Auror. The idea is that Harry would end up as an Auror post-war because Saving People is What He's For... and then either doesn't care (or doesn't notice) that he's burning himself out, unfulfilled, unhappy, self-destructive, you name it. But Draco notices, because if you're Draco Malfoy the first and most important rule is Stay Alive.

Hermione's martyr streak manifests in her workaholism, and the fact that she will absolutely burn herself out researching Magical Creature Law for Buckbeak in Book 3 while she's also taking more classes than anyone else, or spend all her free time knitting house elf hats in Book 5 when there's lot of other stuff going on, or do the lion's share of the logistical work in Book 7 even though it's clearly stressing her out. I think that Hermione is inclined to think of her body as not a body that had needs, wants, and limits - but more a case to carry her brain around. Draco's a nice one to throw into the mix because he (and his family) value comfort, and beauty, and work-smarter-not-harder. He's not going to stand for Hermione not decorating her apartment because she "didn't have the time."

Ron is the least martyr-y of the Golden Trio (low key where a lot of the Book 7 conflict between him and the others comes from. Ron's not as willing to sacrifice himself.) But he does still have this low-burn... fear? suspicion? That he's just not as important as his friends. So if it's Harry.... yeah, he'll sacrifice himself for Harry. I'm thinking about the sacrifice play he makes during the chess match in Book 1, "If you're going to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too" in Book 3, the way Ron's the one back-talking Voldemort in Book 7... that's off the top of my head, I'm sure there are more instances. Sadly Ron/Draco (Raco?) (Ronaco?) (Dron?) is not as popular as the other two, because I think there's a lot of creative potential with Ron and Draco unpacking where their mutual fixation on Harry is coming from, or Draco challenging a lot of Ron's very baked-in assumptions about the world and his place in it. Draco has always been important, and special (what Ron wants.) But Ron has Harry's friendship and the world's respect (while Draco does not.) I think it would actually be very healing for Ron to see himself through Draco's eyes.

[sleepnowmychild]

Your recent post, somehow that was actually helpful to be reminded we're allowed to not try to force ourselves to see the gods as we work with them and the characters in the myths as completely synonymous. Trying to navigate that has actually been really difficult and confusing for our practice.

I feel like since helpol fell from the massive powerhouse it was in ancient times, when it was so widespread and engraned in several cultures, a lot of people tend to see it as something of the past. Like they're just old stories from a far off time and it was never a wide spread religion with differences between reigons and time periods at all.

Everyone's relationship with the gods and how they practice will differ, and the time periods and cultures changing over the years will also effect how we worship (like we dong exactly casually sacrifice animals anymore you know). But I've always noticed that a lot of modern people find it kind of hard to see ancient religions like religions, and more like set of stories you're in a fandom for.

Whatever your worship looks like, it's completely valid as long as you can separate the real gods from their 'fandom-ified' modern interperations we see in retellings like PJO, LO, hades game and Epic etc. Some retelling will be better than others, but even the best ones aren't equal to the actual religion and ancient texts.

Tbh the 'fandom-ification' of religions and their stories is kind of inevitable, I'm sure in like 5000 years when some new religion is the most widespread, all the major ones we have today will face the same fandom treatment as a lot of ancient polytheism religions do now. I mean,,, people already write Jesus x Judas fic for the jokes today, one day it'll be dead serious fanfic like people make for the greco roman gods right now.

[yearnsforwips]

WIP WEDNESDAY.

All that got him was a roll of the eyes, and he scoffed, “It’s not like it’s a rule, Agent P. He doesn’t need to tell you anything.” Peter pondered this whole affair, and pursed his lips, “I didn’t take you for the possessive type – the one nemesis type.” Perry wanted to reach over and strangle the smug look off of Peter’s face. But that was unbecoming of him, and would only confirm what Peter was saying, even if he was right. There had been a reason Perry had been assigned to Doofenshmirtz, but it’s not like he was the only evil scientist Perry could fight in Danville. There were so many others, and Perry had the spare time. I’m not – Peter cut him off with a chuckle, which made Perry’s fingers twitch with the urge to strangle him again, “Right, right, what was I thinking? You’re the lone wolf. You’re probably more annoyed you had to waste your time and come out here –” A noise so harsh ripped through his throat, rubbing it raw before he began to sign to Peter. See, this is why I hate working with you –

Woah, Soapy actually posting a WIP Wednesday twice in row? And actual miracle believe it or not. I'm still working on the It's About Time Fic (realised I need to add a whole other section to it for it work) but for now have this...giving hints to Perry and Peter knowing each other and also Perry's dislike with working with other people, Peter included. I feel like Perry hates when people try to talk for him, acting as if they know what he's going to say and completely misreading him. Which, annoyingly I imagine a lot of agents do, Peter included. They just assume he knows what he's going to say. Doofenshmirtz on the other hand, reads Perry. He reads his body language and gathers what he's saying from that, and never assumes. It's why he likes the man. There is much to think about...God I love Perry.

[vir-tanadahl]

With all these ai accusations being thrown about, I’m really debating on writing my fanfic in google docs (which I really don’t wanna use Google docs) just in case I am accused???

Like I have always used Word for all of my writing, but word doesn’t track changes like how Google docs does. And I have all of my notes from my fanfics (my hand written notes, my iPhone notes for when I get ideas when I’m working, already in bed, or high af) and my rough outlines. But like idk if that would be enough for some people?

Like if all it takes to have an AI detector flag something for AI is to be grammatically correct, I guess I will just be...less grammatically correct?

I even looked into the research studies done on the accuracy of AI detectors, and they aren't reliable. I ran some of my fics through one AI and it said 0% AI probability and then I ran it through another one and it said like 50% AI probability. 🤷🏼‍♀️

I even ran one of my older fics that was originally posted in 2017 (before genAI even existed) into one AI detector and it said it was 100% AI????? like how is that even possible? I wrote it back in 2017!

[shrekgogurt]

Hey y'all! In August I started two jobs and I've been so busy I haven't been bored enough to daydream about fic let alone write it. One of the jobs is a long term substitute position. I do not have a teaching degree. I do not know what I am doing. It is very stressful. These kids are just staring at me every morning and I have to be the one to like...have things for them to do. And so I just "yes and" riff about some worksheets best I can and hope they pass their state tests come April. Like, I'm really just some guy off the street they hired last minute. It's so bad.

However, I have a lil something I wrote before all that sooooooooo...

Simon POV, past (age 15):

Balanced footsteps approach, clicking in even purposeful tones that threaten Baz, Baz, Baz. His shadow appears first. Long and lean. Dark and brooding. Mocking me as it flickers against the walls because even the mere imitation of Baz swarms with condescension. A few steps above me, always looking down.

Thank you to everyone who has been tagging me. I'm sorry I've been so ass at interacting with your posts.

Fuck it I'm just putting down some names dude. @alexalexinii @arthurkko @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla

@emeryhall @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ic3-que3n @ineffable-grimm-pitch @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @messofthejess @mitranian @mooncello @monbons @nausikaaa @ninemagicks @nightimedreamersworld @noblecorgi @onepintobean @orange-peony @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @urban-sith @umdiasujo @valeffelees @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[ghostoffuturespast]

Honestly, getting real tired carrying and supporting other folks around here when most of them aren't returning the favor...

[telesodalite]

Been thinking about idw1's outliers lately, and how sort of wild the whole concept is from a worldbuilding standpoint, and it struck me that most confirmed outlier abilities tend to be really useful, or flashy, or powerfully dangerous, and few to none tend to be like, really boring, or totally impractical, or even entirely useless? Which, doesn't really make sense when considering the fact that outlier abilities are seemingly random.

Surely not everyone who's born an outlier gets something useful?

And I don't mean like, "good" useful, but any sort of useful, even if that means you can kill people with your voice, or give a power boost by exploding yourself, those are still "useful".

But surely there had to be some with abilities that were totally impractical, or nonbeneficial, or at the very least just insignificant or purely aesthetic and pointless?