#is this about the fact that there are not one but two in my acquaintance-circle that are close to my age and i like decently well

[spockulative]

why??? are men??? so excellent??? unfair

[hybridirl]

who first?

18+ only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader x abby

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i was with my family the past week celebrating a holiday :)!! now i’m back and i’m gonna try and pump out a few. i am in fact working on the ellie x loser!reader pt2, so pls bear with me! i’m still thinking up ideas. this shit is harddd

brief summary: ellie and abby are the bestest of friends, and you’re… there. they kinda feel bad for you, so they bring home some of the “good shit” for a game. never have i ever? with shots. reversed. haven’t done it? drink!!!

tw / AU, *DUBCON* (reader is drunk (but so is ellie and abby)), strap-on, use of y/n, cunnilingus (r and e receiving), tit-slapping, porn no plot, rushed sex, threesome, reader gets referred to as “girl”

ᡣ𐭩

watching tiktoks for hours on end was never your proudest pastime, especially when your two roommates were constantly out partying. you, honestly, were a third wheel. well, to be fair, you came into this friendship way after these two had already been established as this inseparable duo. still, being a friend - even if it’s not as deep - doesn’t mean you should be excluded from their little activities.

so, this is how your night has gone so far: moping around, trying to bake some cookies you found on tiktok, and binging tiktok. you sat on the island of the kitchen, a frown plastered on your face as you munched on your fifth cookie.

you glanced at the clock: 11:35 PM. you knew exactly what this meant; one of them is slutting themselves out while the other waits to drive themselves home. god, how it aggravated you! - how easily they could get into someone’s pants by just looking at them while you had to ease your way into it. that slow, smooth talking you, except it rarely ever worked and you came off as a creep. the pickup lines from reddit don’t seem to work in reality, huh?

pulling yourself off the counter and shoving the last piece of cookie into your mouth, you wondered why you stayed up until they came back. maybe you were just a little afraid to go to sleep alone, maybe you were just simply lonely. you wanted them to come home, tell you about their day and get envious at their friendship that you weren’t in on and that you didn’t have. poor you. you were like a watchdog, always staying up and looking out until your ‘owners’ came along, praising you for your good work so you could get your little dopamine rush. you even whimpered, just a little, as you sat on the couch to watch some cheesy drama movie that you had zero interest in. about thirty minutes in, the door opens. you turn your head and watch your two acquaintances walk in, both holding a suspiciously shaped brown bag.

“hey,” you greet, “what’re those?” you pointed toward the bags in their hands.

“just stuff for you,” ellie chirped first, setting the bag on the coffee table.

“us, she means,” abby cut in, setting hers down. you watched as they revealed what was shielded from her viewing: two tall bottles of ‘devil’s spring vodka.’

you cocked your head to the side and spoke, “for us? what for?” they gave you a ‘what do you think?’ look before ellie headed off to get three shot glasses. she placed one in front of you, abby, and herself.

“so, y/n,” abby began, popping the top and pouring some into each glass. “we know you’re lonely and we thought we’d do something for you, huh? sound good?” you pursed your lips and nodded, completely weirded out by this interaction.

“we’re gonna play a game,” ellie said, circling her glass with her hands. “it’s like ‘never have i ever.’ ever played?” you nodded. “good. so, each time someone says something you haven’t done, you take a shot. got it?” you nod again. “a—lright, you guys ready?” abby smiles and raises her hand.

“i’ll go first,” she told, an obvious mischievous glint in her eye, “let’s start of tame. so, y/n, have you ever… kissed someone in public? i’m not talking a little peck, i’m talking seriously making out.” your face heated, and your jaw dropped just slightly. you thought about lying, of course, just to seem cool, but, you knew they’d know.

“i-i… no, i haven’t,” you muttered out, shakily reaching your hand toward your glass. you took a sip, wincing at the burn in your throat.

“c’mon, y/n, the whole thing,” ellie chuckled at your ministrations. you whimpered silently before your head tilted back, gulping the rest down.

“ugh,” you groaned as you set it down and watched as ellie pour more into your glass. you had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

“okay, my turn,” ellie giggled, looking at the two of you. “okay, y/n, have you ever… had someone motorboat you?” your brows furrowed immediately.

“m-motorboat? i, well, um… no.”

“drink up then, girl.” they watched as you took another brave shot, your face contorting into what looked like pain, and, to be fair, it was painful.

you were about to speak, for your turn, but abby interrupted quickly, barely even noticing your open mouth, “my turn, huh?” abby questioned. your jaw shut right back up, letting her take the lead. letting her do her thing. “so, y/n, ever, i don’t know, let’s get a little crazier with this one, yeah? ever been in a threesome?”

you stared at abby with wide eyes, why are they asking you this stuff? why only you?

“no…” you whispered, continuing your stare on her as you went to take yet another shot. you were already starting to feel a buzz, already starting to feel the heat in your tummy. with a slightly clouded head, you turned to ellie. she was smirking, her eyes knowing as her lips parted once more.

“how about you give it a go?” ellie asked you, and you felt some relief.

“h-have you guys ever, um… have you guys ever… had a threesome?” you asked in a low voice. you watched abby roll her eyes and go to grab her glass, as with ellie.

“o—kay, my turn,” ellie clasped her hands together, after setting her glass back down, “ever taken it up the ass, y/n?”

“why are you only asking me?” you gawked, reaching for your glass. you took the next shot, and felt a sudden need for more.

“because we already know what we’ve did,” abby replied, another shot of the vodka slithering down her throat. “mm, that’s some good shit. so, y/n, have you ever topped?” you sighed as you reached for the glass once more. “oh, so you’re a bottom? figures. i mean, look at you.” you looked up at her, slightly offended whilst your hands went to pour yourself another shot.

“have you guys ever, uh, had public… sex?” you found yourself boldly asking, obvious that this drink was getting to you. they both raised their glasses to their lips.

this went on and on, mostly them asking you, you sometimes asking them until you were all drunk out of your minds.

“y/n,” ellie finally groaned and she scooted closer to you. you hadn’t realized the proximity of them both, slowly decreasing as the night went on. you hummed a response, your eyes half closed and your face hot. “h’ve you ever, uh, fantasized? about us?” ellie asked, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. your hand didn’t reach for the glass, rather you simply stared into those green eyes. “yeah? you have? why didn’t you tell us? we coulda’ made all of your dreams come true, sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand meeting your waist.

“i-i was n-nervous,” you whined, “didn’ wanna say anythin’…”

“y/n, baby,” abby purred into your ear, “you don’ gotta be nervous ‘round us.” your head throbbed as you bit your lip; their hands explored your body, slowly molding you into your arousal. you wondered if this was their plan all along as their fingers danced around your PJs, caressing your inner thighs…

“please,” you whispered and their eyes flickered toward you. “…t-touch me…” you sighed blissfully as ellie’s hand finally met with your pajama-clad vulva. abby’s head dipped into the crook of your neck; she kissed up your neck and throat, then tilted your head toward hers to kiss your lips. sloppily, her tongue slipped into your mouth, prodding and massaging your tongue. your own mingled with hers, dancing around each other’s. you barely noticed your bottoms being tugged down, only realizing once the chill of the air hit your heat.

“lemme taste ‘er first,” abby said quickly as she pulled away from your swollen lips.

“no,” ellie whined, tugging your body toward hers.

“it was my idea,” she growled in return, “now let me have her first.” ellie huffed, but let go. she took asylum in your breasts; lifting your shirt up, she immediately dove into your mounds. she licked up to your nipple, taking it between her lips. you let out a broken moan as she nibbled on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around your pebbling nipples.

abby slid your legs open with her hands, spreading your labia with her thumb.

“how long h’ve you been this wet, y/n?” an obvious rhetorical question. you were too occupied with ellie and the worship of your breasts.

“a’w-while,” you managed to croak, though. you heard her chuckle and felt your body being tugged toward her more. “mmf, abby, be gentle…” ellie watched as abby’s head dipped between your legs, then her eyes flickered to your face to watch it contort in pleasurable expressions. “abby… ngh…” your hand reached to tug at her blonde hair, earning a groan from her lips.

“i heard she’s a p-pro,” ellie whispered to you while she tugged off her bottoms. your eyes fluttered, staring dazed at the sight of her pussy.

“want,” you purred out. ellie only smirked at you, her hands moving in to shove you down onto the couch. her legs straddled your head and she lowered herself onto you without warning, virtually smothering you. “mmf!” your brows were furrowed, your nose smooshed against her wet cunt. she ground her hips into your face, covering it in her slick.

“c’mon, y/n, thought you wanted it.” your doe eyes kept gazing up at her and you began to do the best you could with her weight in your face, your tongue working hard against her swollen clit.

both of the feelings were intoxicating, abby at your pussy, you at ellie’s. your legs tightened around abby’s head as her fingers found your g-spot, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. you moan into ellie, slurping at the nectar leaking from her. you’re so intoxicated, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or this delicious feeling. your hands gripped ellie’s sides and you pulled her closer. you were whimpering, moaning, abby’s tongue wriggling into you, her fingernails digging into your plush thighs.

“mmm!” you cried, your eyes shutting as you felt a knot in your stomach begin to uncoil, your juices coating abby’s tongue and face.

“ahn, yeah,” abby groaned. “righ’ on my tongue, sweethear’.” your eyes were rolling, face scrunched in pleasure. it was a sure sight for ellie, drawing - no, forcing ellie’s own climax to follow suit. her arousal painted you, creaming on your face as she held your head close to her.

“oh, god, please please please — fuck!”

she ground against you, riding her orgasm out in your face. her clit bumped your nose, and your hands gripped her hips, slowly guiding her to a halt as she came down. as she got up from you, she took a moment to admire her work. your face looked so exhausted, wet with her, and needy for more.

“abby,” ellie said, “g-go get the…” she gestured into the direction of the bedrooms, then abby knew what she was talking about. she made her way into one the bedrooms, who knows which, and rummaged through. you watched the hallway curiously, ready for her arrival. you tried to sit up, but ellie only grabbed you, laying you down on her thighs. when abby came out, you were surprised to find her pant-less, and with a harness strapped to her person, not to mention a dildo hanging from it. she approached, slow and cautious steps. you couldn’t tell if she was trying to tease you or try to get you into the idea.

“you wan’ it?” she asked you, slowly crawling into the sofa, then nudging and prodding your wetness with the head.

“wan’ it.”

“alrigh’, sweet girl,” she breathed, easing the head into your slippery entrance. “good?” you nodded your head, egging her on silently.

“abby,” you moaned breathlessly. she shushed you, halting her movements so you could get used to her. she ran her rough hands down your sides, down, down, to your clit, gently rubbing it to make you feel some sort of goodness as she stood still. “move, please,” you whimpered.

“y/n, you should see ‘yer face right now,” ellie giggled, caressing the side of your head. “god, y’so pretty. fuck ‘er, abby, hurry. look at ‘er face.” abby rolled her eyes, not usually taking commands. she was going to anyway, but…

“oh!” you gasped from her sudden movements, a tight snap from her hips. “f-fuck!”

“mmm, ‘n moans so pretty,” ellie praised, “didn’ get to hear ‘ya so well when you were under me. gettin’ smothered by my pussy... mhm…” she caressed your face again, cupping your cheeks as abby began to pound you.

“abby!” you cried to her, eyes shut tight, hands flailing to find somewhere to rest. they found abby’s biceps, gripping them tightly as she slapped her hips against yours. “please, ngh!” you grit your teeth, jaw clenched while pleasure overtook you.

“eyes open,” abby growled, “‘n on me.” you had to fight yourself to open your eyes, but the sight in front of you was perfect. abby’s blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her braid dangling and swinging with each thrust, her slack jaw, fuck. “yeah, ‘atta girl.” she was thrusting just right, obviously so experienced. it was pleasing her, too, the strap hitting just right at her swollen clit.

how badly you wanted to touch her body, worship her like you did quietly with her eyes. she was like a greek god, muscular and sculpted so perfectly. especially now, sweat marbling her skin and her chiseled body over yours. you almost forgot ellie was there, being as (almost) quiet as she was. glancing up, you caught sight of her, her fingers buried into her cunt. the sight alone was enough to make you cum once more, but you couldn’t, not so early. you looked back up at the deity above you who was staring into your eyes.

“abby,” you groaned. you threw your head back, going dumb on her cock. “right there… f-please…” cross-eyed, you sobered up a little as you felt a harsh pain on your breasts. “oh!” you gasped, feeling her large hand slap your chest. “abby!”

“take my cock, girl,” abby panted, hands squeezing your breasts, using them as leverage as she continued her pounding.

“fu—ck,” ellie groaned to the sight of you and to the noise of her fingers in her cunt, squelching, obscene, and loud. “y’doing so good, y/n… yes… uhn!”

you ran your hand up abby’s biceps, wrapping your arms around her neck. this prompted her to lean in and kiss your lips, deep and hungry. your hand cupped her cheek, pulling her close while your lips collided. abby pulled away first to admire your body and you took this moment to lift your arms above your head, desperately trying to pull ellie closer by her legs. she scoot closer and you cocked your head to the side, immediately licking at her cunt.

“yeah,” abby moaned, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. “lick ‘er fuckin’ pussy.” she gripped your waist, hurriedly thrusting into you, her clot bumping against the harness. “fuck, i’m cumming!” she moaned, collapsing onto you as she came. she kissed at your neck, bit at it, too, while she continued to thrust, needing you to cum, too. her fingers finding your clit, furiously rubbing it.

you couldn’t help it anymore; biting into ellie’s thigh, you came. squirted, actually. all over her cock, all over her abdomen. your body was convulsing, shaking and twitching for her. ellie followed in suit, your teeth pushing her over the edge as they sunk deeper into her. all three of you were moaning, crying, holding each other tight.

“fuck,” you were the first to say. abby slowly pulled out of you, panting deeply.

“you squirted,” abby chuckled with admiration. she squeezed your thighs and glanced up at ellie, “all good?” she asked. ellie nodded.

“yeah, just,” she sighed blissfully, “fuck. we should do this again.” you giggled and kissed ellie’s thigh.

“mhm,” you agreed.

maybe your (sex?) life has just changed for the better.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[chap two] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

wc: 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

[dragongirlpoet]

Corrupt

Sylus x reader (not mc)

I changed the title fyi

Synopsis: Feared, ruthless and agonisingly attractive, Sylus infuriates you like no other. Yet, you work for him. As you immerse yourself in a life of vice with the Onychinus leader, you soon uncover secrets darker than the shadows he wields. Perhaps, just perhaps, you got more than what you bargained for…

Themes: Enemies to lovers, angst, sexual tension, slow burn, violence I Words: 2.1k I Semi made-up lore/cultural facts

“Drinking on the job? Tsk, that’s the third infringement on company policy you’ve made tonight, kitten.”

He took a sip of his whisky — aged in sherry cask, distilled just right with spherical ice. It was how he liked it. I knew, because I was having the exact same drink — his choice of poison at every revel, every meeting, every reclusive night alone. 

Sylus threw me a derisive look, cherry eyes surveying me over the glisten of his glass. 

“Intentions become more blatant, after a drink or two. Or in your case, five.” I challenged the man who’s kept me hired for the past year.

I was grateful. My work at the Hunters Association had turned trite. Clockwork really, — detect Wanderers, eradicate them, aid the wounded. Righteous, lawful, and so…moral.

My heart had staged a mutiny long before my mind resolved for change. And so I left my woe of comfort and dived into the hellfires of felony. He had found me scavenging for Protocore fragments in the N109, attempting to make my mark with abysmal self-made weapons.

Trinkets — Sylus had called them. Indeed I was a stray cat vagrant in the dominion of vultures.

The leader of Onychinus circled me as I downed my glass, eyebrow cocked at my words. His handsome face gave nothing away — a classic Sylus signature. 

“Dance with me?” 

A loaded question. One with threat and agency lurking beneath.

I took his outstretched hand and let him whisk me into the centre of the dapper nightclub — exclusive, accessible only to the most premier, and despicable, of criminals. 

Sylus was one of them. 

With expert grace, he spun me into an embrace, one gloved hand intertwined with mine, the other at my waist. Our steps fell in harmony with each other at once, like missing chords finding solace in a melody. 

“So? What have you heard? You seemed thoroughly engaged with that halfwit over there…” his words trailed away as his gaze dipped to my silver dress. Being his right hand had me acquainted with his quirks — sometimes endearing, more so disturbing. 

The subtle smirk dissipated as soon as it came.

“They have ties with the Ever Group. Something about a nitrogen spectrum…a capsule…Kenshi and his men have been on the hunt for it for a whi…” 

“You look divine in this dress. I had it picked out just for you. Do you not like it?” his impertinence interrupting my mid-sentence. 

I huffed a breath. “It works similarly to a Protocore, quite li…”

“Damask rose, isn’t it? With a hint of honeysuckle…out of all my spies…” he lowered his head, “you’re my favourite scent.” A roguish smile accompanied the wanton glint he cast into my eyes. 

It had always been like this. Sylus would send me on missions, most times by his side. I was never granted the elucidations of tasks, only that I’d to “act as good bait…suss out whatever information you can…kill if you have to…”

I would probe, and he would reply with a curt, “Not safe. Just do as you’re told.” It was in those moments where I thought I’d witnessed fragility in his demeanour. He would catch on, and he would put on his mask of aloof and asshole, like right now.  

I rolled my eyes, vexation apparent on my features. Sylus seemed content that he got under my skin. Not giving me a chance to reply, he twirled me around, the warm velvet of his coat now a flaming singe against my bare back. So that’s why he chose this dress…

“Come on, don’t look so incensed. I heard you. You’re doing a fantastic job, kitten. Always giving me what I need.” The last word came out huskier than intended beside my ear. 

The club was cold. Sylus was conceited. It was a perfect match. As much as I abhorred his arrogance, I welcomed the warmth of his body to mine. 

I remembered defrosting at my fireplace after I’d been caught in a snowstorm. I had sat there for hours, letting the crackling heat appease my frozen limbs. It felt nice, comforting. And with Sylus’ arms now wrapped around me — he was my fireplace.

“I’m just trying to make this spy business enjoyable for us both. Even if you’re unhappy, at least act it. After all, you’re good at pretending, right?” 

There was an edge to his words.

“I saw how you brushed his hand… that spineless leech….unless you were thinking of fucking him tonight?” His hiss was loud enough for the crowd close to us to hear. They turned, throwing us looks of disdain and outrage. I doubted Sylus realised how hard his fingers were digging into my skin.

Cheeks flushed both from the whisky and his risky display of assertion, I shot him a warning glance. “You’re insane, Sylus.”

“So quit then. But do it later, not now, not while everyone’s watching. I don’t want an audience I didn’t ask for.” He was taunting me again, wholly unfazed by the almost furore.

How much did he drink tonight?

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I was in no mood to counter his transgressions. Instead, I snaked my arms back, cradling his neck, fingers threading through his silver head of hair. Sylus stiffened at my touch, likely taken aback by my insolence. 

Soulful, sensual beats reveberated through the club, patrons — descendants of the devil themselves, wives, mistresses — all caught up in the fervour of the music. Couples were fondling and kissing on the monochrome floor. And well, I didn’t find a reason why I shouldn’t join the hedonistic heist.

So into his body I pushed mine. Gripping my hips with his right, his left hand slipped down to my abdomen, tracing the lining of my underwear. As I let my head fall back into his chest, his own came lower to nudge my face, burying his nose in my temple. A flutter flushed in my core.

There was a sort of courtliness to the way Sylus moved, a kind of elegance you could find only in Kings and Queens. Yet the way he was guiding my hips to sway in rhythm to his held such lewdity. To the frolicking outlaws here, we looked very much the part of reigning besotted lovers — timeless, transcendent. 

Enthralled by the song and how Sylus was spooning me like I was his revered ruby, I ground myself indulgently against his leather pants. He grew hard at once, length prodding at my back. 

Our combined excitement was short-lived, though. The silver dress he gifted me caught in the buckle of his belt, hiking the silk up. My black panties were exposed in wondrous glory, earning hungry looks from the men around. 

The Onychinus kingpin tugged my dress down immediately, struggling slightly at the fabric fastened to his metal. His reflexes were swift as the time I aimed a loaded gun at him. 

A loaded gun, one that was now hoisted towards the crowd. He really was insane. 

“Look away, or I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.” His decree thundered over the booming of the speakers.

Several men smirked, others pretended to ease back into their cavorting. Assault, drugs, murder — it was just another night here at the N109. Being threatened with a revolver? — A mere parlour trick. 

But perhaps that was what Sylus wanted to let on. “Never reveal your hand. Remain powerful by appearing meek.” That was the first lesson he had taught me. 

“Sylus…careful…you could’ve put us in jeopardy…” I cast a concerned glance his way, only to find him polishing his pistol with his coat, his face a nonchalant calm. 

His tone however, was one of annoyance, as if reprimanding a child. “I wasn’t fond of the little show you just put on.” 

I put on a show? He was the one who…I sucked in a breath to abstain from an outburst. He was getting on my last nerve. 

Pretending the best I could, I instead riposted, “Oh no, it’s not for them. I put these on just for you.” 

Two could play at that game. 

I watched the silver-haired devil pin me with his gaze, the dark of his pupils rising up to swallow me whole.  

“I ought to punish you for violating company rules. Seems you’re breaking many of them tonight.” 

“That’s why you hired me in the first place, isn’t it? I don’t play by the rules.”

There was a pause. The music seemed to fade out into a distant void, drowning the chatter along with it. Strobe lights danced around his face, illuminating the reds of his eyes. His right iris appeared to…glow?

A faint disorientation overcame me. In between blinking and regretting what I said, though, I thought I noticed Sylus inch closer — as if a subtle act of want. Only I had the privilege, or burden, to be sentient of his every complexity. 

I regarded his stare as they roved over my eyes, my lips, closing the space between us…

“I want to go home.” I muttered. 

Sylus straightened himself. If he was peeved, I couldn’t tell. 

—

The ride on his motorcycle was spent in silence, save for the roaring of his modified exhausts. I refused to hold him, choosing instead to grab onto the fairing of the tail. So was another night of ambiguous motives and aimless flirtations, one in which I had grown increasingly restless.

“Why is everyone looking for the spectrum?” I asked at a traffic stop.

Silence.

“How is it even related to a Protocore? What’s so danger…”

“You really should hold on to me. I can’t risk my best spy falling off…” once again disregarding my questions, crimson eyes glaring at me through his side mirror.

“What is wrong with you? It’s been a year! And yet you don’t trust me enough with details of your dealings?” I yelled over the muffle of my helmet, my own voice ringing in my ears. 

A low rumble sounded in the distance, quite like skyscrapers being blown apart by covert dynamites. The loud whirring of Sylus’ motorcycle remained, the combined knells throwing us into a pit of trepidation.

“Kitten.” 

I knew that tone. 

Drawing out my gun, I swung myself off the bike and fired. The Protocore-infused bullet buried itself in the recesses of a Wanderer, shredding its power source, erupting shards of alloy projectiles. Some of the pieces lodged themselves into other Wanderers, causing them to convulse violently, teetering on the brink of destruction.

Behind me, Sylus fended off several monsters, his Evol wrapping ominous tendrils around their form. In a mere furl of his hand, they disintegrated into dust, leaving clouds of ash in their wake. 

My weapon was formidable enough, having been altered with a Zenith Core — a deviant design forged by Sylus himself. “I made this just for you,” he had surprised me in my first month of training. “It’ll keep you safe. Though you’ll always be so long as I’m around.”

Another shot was fired, this time by Sylus, barrel of his gun aimed over my shoulder. The creature at my back let out a piercing snarl before it crumbled into pieces. Our eyes met at once, the animosity from earlier now a muted thrum.

Hostility, however, chose to emerge in a different form — more Wanderers. Hoards of them. I spotted Foulwings and Magma Knaves, both species not known to spawn here. 

I unsheathed my blade, but we were ringed in. Their screeches and grunts enveloped the night, like a fathomless blackhole draining all levity.

“There’s too many of them. We need to leave now.” 

In a swift grab of my arm, Sylus tugged me into a whirl of nothingness. Red and black sworls engulfed us, and the last thing I remembered was being thrust in such nauseating force that I blanked out. 

—

“Kitten. Kitten, wake up.” 

I’d have recognised that voice anywhere.

Sylus was staring at me, hints of distress plain in his electric eyes. I was propped up against his arms in the middle of an empty street. It looked familiar, but not quite. Dim streetlamps cast an unearthly glow to the pavements, their shadows prostrate like spindly entities on a night prowl. 

The buildings were far from towering ones in Linkon and the N109, carved instead, out of bricks and stone no more than five stories tall. Rickety signboards flickered on and off, as though a visual alarm to caution that we were not welcomed here.

“Sylus, where are we?”

A deep sense of rue loomed over his face.

“N109 Zone.”

“120 years in the past.”

[sugrhigh]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - ( c.s )

REQUESTED HERE**

summary- you and chris have been broken up for a few weeks when you run into each other at a party. emotions run high, and you’re both overwhelmed by jealousy as you navigate being newly single.

warnings- smut, angst with no resolution! don’t come looking for a happy ending

ex!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this one hurt but i’m hoping it fulfills your requests!! enjoy xoxoxo and as always my inbox is open for whatever

what people don’t tell you about breaking up with your boyfriend is that every single outing afterwards has the potential to turn sour within a second. unfortunately, tonight is proving to be one of those times.

your friends decided to drag you to a pool party in the hills, thrown by a rather charming trust fund baby who happens to be a mutual acquaintance of the group. you hadn’t left your apartment in a questionable amount of time, so an intervention was necessary.

at first everything was fine; drinks were flowing, guys were hitting on you, and the pain was temporarily numbed. the least you could do was pretend to enjoy your newfound freedom for an hour or so.

but then you spot him; he’s standing by the decorated bar, drink in one hand and a pretty girl on his other arm. he looks as good as ever, long hair tousled to perfection, dressed in a simple black muscle tee and patterned trunks.

both your heart and your feet stop dead in their tracks. it’s been a few weeks since you called it quits, and you’d been able to avoid seeing him until this very moment. every kiss, every happy memory, and every argument—especially your very last—comes flooding right back.

watching him interact with another girl only makes it ten times more hurtful. you’re about to turn and run when his eyes meet yours, and he looks just as shocked as you feel.

it’s clear neither of you were expecting the other to be here, and you’re not quite sure what the protocol is for this situation. all you’re currently thinking is that you want to walk over there and rip that stupid bitch off of him, and you’re pretty sure he can tell.

one of his eyebrows raises, almost on instinct. he can see that you’re jealous, and you can see that he knows this fact. you’re embarrassed for a moment until you realize he’s taunting you, hand sliding down to the mystery girl’s ass as they talk amongst their circle.

then true anger rears its ugly head, a painful kind of anger like your nerves have been set on fire. who the fuck does he think he is, playing stupid games with you?

he should know that all he’ll win is stupid prizes. he’s just as greedy as you are, and seeing you with anyone else would piss him right off.

and it would also absolutely serve him right.

you straighten up, looking around for the cute boy—josh, if you remember correctly—who had approached you earlier to compliment your bikini. your eyes narrow in on him, sat by the edge of the pool with some of his buddies. the perfect target.

you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the wound in your heart inspiring you, but it doesn’t matter.

you don’t look back at chris. instead, you beeline toward the water, not hesitating to interrupt their chat as you tap on his shoulder. josh looks up with a huff, seemingly a bit annoyed until he realizes who it is.

his face softens immediately, squinting up at you like you’re suddenly the only thing he’s interested in. “oh, hey there.”

you smile, trying to be as enchanting as possible as you offer him your hand. “hello again. wanna dance?”

his friends are barely able to contain their excitement, and he nods eagerly in response to your question. his large palm slips into yours and you help him up, tugging him closer to the horde of people already swaying to the music.

you can physically feel chris’s eyes following the two of you through the crowd, which inflates your ego massively. you have no idea where your friends are, but right now you’re so riled up that you’re only focused on payback.

you turn your back to josh, allowing him to loosely hold your hips against his own. you move together well, and as nice as it is, all you can think about it chris. you dare to look over, and as expected, he’s glaring at you with the fire of a thousand suns.

you don’t want to smirk, but you feel one take over your face anyways. all he’s seeing is red; it doesn’t matter that you’re broken up, you shouldn’t be dancing with anyone like that unless it’s him.

he wasn’t the one that initiated that talk anyways. you had, because the strain of him being at such a busy point in his life was just too much. he didn’t fight it; he saw how unhappy you were because he was so focused on his next career moves, that facetimes had turned to texts and that your schedules never seemed to line up anymore.

you’re just as ambitious, zeroed in on your last year of school and working hard to finance that dream. it used to be easier, but then a lot more outside stress began tearing you apart.

that doesn’t mean you’re not the right person for him. chris already knows that you are, it’s just clearly not the right time. and it breaks his heart, but he can’t give you what you deserve right now.

this guy is no prince charming, though, and it’s pissing him off.

your head tilts as josh’s mouth ghosts over your neck, your lips parting slightly, and that’s when chris feels himself explode. the girl that was hanging around him doesn’t matter. in fact, he doesn’t excuse himself at all; he just sets his drink down on the bar and turns back to you.

he moves quickly, shifting by a few other people so that he can break this shit up. you pull away from josh before he even reaches you, but when he does his hand grips your wrist harshly.

“hey, man, what the—”

“she doesn’t want you.” chris calls over his shoulder as he pulls you away, and you know that everybody is watching.

you give josh an apologetic glance, because you do feel kind of bad, but chris is also yanking you along with such a force that you’re actually tripping over your feet. you try to catch up, but you look silly fumbling along behind him.

“slow the fuck down, jesus.” you try to tug him back, but he keeps his pace the same.

“no.” he says it in a harsh tone, though he slides his hand down to hold yours.

it surprises you a bit, but you don’t read into it too much. he’s still obviously pissed, dragging you past various crowds until you finally reach the house. there’s far less people inside, but neither of you are really paying attention to them.

“where are we going?” you ask as he leads you up the stairs, though you’re not doing much to resist.

“to talk.” he replies bluntly, as if it’s that simple.

you scoff, mainly to yourself, which is cut off when you reach the second floor and chris jerks you into a bathroom. he finally lets go of you, using one hand to slam the light switch on and the other to close and lock the door.

you’re backed up against the counter when he shifts around again, breathing heavily as he stands over you. you haven’t been this close together in quite some time, and it’s making your heart race out of control.

his dark eyes observe you for a second before he finally speaks. “you know i don’t like being teased, sweetheart. so who was that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “i don’t owe you an explanation. in case you forgot, we’re not together anymore.”

chris puts his palms down on the counter, boxing you in so that his face is only a few inches from yours. his cologne smells so familiar and so enticing, and you can’t help but gravitate a little closer even though you’re infuriated.

“doesn’t change the fact that i don’t want to see some fucking loser with his hands all over you.” he grumbles, and you can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

how much more hypocritical can he get?

you jab a finger into his chest harshly. “you think i wanted to see you playing grab-ass with a random girl? because news flash chris—i didn’t. you don't have the right to be all pissy just because i reacted to you being a dick.”

one of his hands goes to grip your throat impulsively, squeezing just enough to let you know that you’re frustrating him. you hate that it makes you throb, being so completely under his control.

you’ve never seen him this angry before, but in some odd way it makes you feel valid in regards to your own emotions.

“you better watch your goddamn mouth, or i’m gonna have to put it to good use.” chris spits bitterly, tilting your head slightly so that you’re forced to look in his eyes.

“oh, just shut the fuck up.” you sigh, leaning the rest of the way so that your lips crash together.

you’re not sure why you did it, but being so close without any real contact was driving you even crazier than his sanctimoniousness. and it feels incredible, his mouth devouring yours like it’s the first time.

your tongues slide together as if you’re the only thing he wants to taste ever again. and it’s true; he’s obsessed with savoring every inch of you, especially now that he’s not sure when the opportunity will present itself again.

you bite down on his lip, not caring enough to be gentle because you’re still annoyed. he groans as you let go, already hard as he slides his hands down to grip your ass so that he can hold you against him.

“you were mad that it wasn’t you, huh? that i wasn’t touching you in the middle of the party?” he says against your jaw as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along it.

it feels like he’s burning every place he touches. you can’t stand the fire, how fucking cocky he sounds, and yet you can’t get enough.

“yeah and you wished it was me in your arms instead, sweetheart.” you mock him breathlessly, tangling you fingers in his roots because you know he likes it.

you feel him clamp down on your neck lightly and you moan, rocking your hips against his in response. chris smirks, sucking the skin into his mouth a bit so it’ll bruise. the possessive part of him needs to leave a mark.

you've been driving him crazy in that little fucking bikini, covered only by a short white skirt. it’s so thin that it doesn’t hide anything anyways, so he yanks it up your hips desperately.

chris doesn’t want to wait anymore. all he’s done is think about this moment for the past three weeks, all he’s done is miss you.

“of course i did, you fucking know that. so are you gonna be good for me, or are we gonna do it the hard way?” he asks, even though it’s more like a growl.

his hand slips underneath your bathing suit bottoms, trailing downward slowly until his fingers ghost over you slick center. your breathing hitches as your nails slide to rake at his back, rutting upwards to try and feel more friction.

“fuck me like you mean it and we won’t have a problem.” you try to keep your voice steady, but he starts to apply more pressure to your clit, slowly circling it in a way that makes you slur your words toward the end.

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

you shouldn’t be this wet for him already, but you are. you feel him start to tease your entrance, his other palm kneading one of your breasts roughly. you whimper as he fully slides two fingers inside your warm cunt, recapturing your mouth with his own to quiet you down.

the music continues to thump from the floor below, and you’re pretty sure no one can hear you, though you both know you need to be quick.

the pressure is perfect, and you missed the way he feels all over you. he’s squeezing your hard nipples through your bikini top, thumb ghosting over your lower sensitive bud as he works you with his hand.

“more, chris, hurry up.” you beg with your forehead pressed against his, trying to tug at his board shorts even though you’re becoming weak in the knees as he curls his fingers.

he retracts them right then, and even though you immediately miss the tension you can’t wait for what’s to come. chris turns his focus towards shoving his trunks out of the way so that his erection can bounce free, and your hand instinctively goes to stroke him.

he cuts you off before you can, grabbing your wrist and spinning you around so quickly that you have to steady yourself by pressing your palms flat on the counter. he forces you to bend a bit more, ensuring that your ass pokes out as he caresses the curve of your hips.

“you’ve always been quite the brat.” chris shakes his head once, slapping his hand down against the side of your flesh playfully.

you let out a small whine, backing up further so that your wet core comes in contact with his shaft. he curses, wrapping a hand in your hair as the other grips your side.

“see? so impatient.” he chides before swiftly lining up with your entrance and ramming his cock inside you without warning.

you both moan, long and loud as he stretches you out. chris swears to god that you’re made for him, that nobody else will ever make him feel this euphoric. your back arches as he sets a fast pace, dragging your hips back so that your skin slaps together.

“fuck, you feel so—mmmn.” you groan as he trails his hand down the center of your stomach, roaming towards your puffy clit again.

you feel yourself shudder slightly, completely overwhelmed by the incredible amount of stimulation. you’re forced to stare at your reflection as chris holds your weak head up, your eyes tearing up a bit.

“tell me i’m the fucking best, baby.” he leans down to purr in your ear, snapping his hips so that he hits the perfect spot deep inside.

“you’re the fucking best.” you tell him truthfully, leaning into the momentum so that he bottoms out inside of you during every stroke.

chris admires all of it; the way your ass bounces when you come in contact with the top of his thighs, the feeling of your hair in his palm, the lewd expression of your face in the mirror.

he can feel your walls squeezing around him, and he chokes on another moan as he drills into you. you’re both nearly ready to explode, and the added pressure of his hand between your legs helps build the wave.

“m’close—shittt, keep going.” you demand in between your heavy pants.

“taking my dick so well, princess. wanna see you cum all over me.” chris pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to stave off the familiar feeling of his orgasm closing in on him.

his strokes grow sloppier, though he tries his best to keep his pace as you praise him through your teeth. the band in the pit of your stomach is about to break, and it’s so hard to stay standing as you begin to tremble harder.

“oh my god, chris—!” you cry out, muscles tense and eyes screwed shut as you ride out the high.

“fuck yes.” he chants back.

his dick twitches, and he’s unable to hold it back any longer as you finish together. chris slows to a stop and you both shake slightly against each other, which allows him a moment to enjoy being inside of you before pulling out.

you don’t even have a second to think about what comes next before he reaches for the toilet paper to help clean you up. its habit now; he’s always loved caring for you, but he feels even more compelled now that you’re not together.

“i’ve got it.” you mumble quietly, still trying to find a way to speak up.

“let me help—” chris continues on regardless.

suddenly everything is too much, and you know you’re becoming overstimulated in an entirely different way. it feels so familiar, so domestic, and it rips through you like a bullet.

“no! i mean, just…just stop.” you snap, pushing him away so that you can do it yourself.

he puts his hands up, clearly confused by the sudden change in the atmosphere. you can’t blame him, considering you’d gotten just as caught up in the moment as he had.

“what’s wrong?” chris asks, though he’s scared to hear the answer.

“nothing,” you lie, twisting your bottoms back into place so that you can pull your skirt up, “but we shouldn’t have done that.”

he scoffs as he also gets re-dressed. “you didn’t seem to think that five minutes ago when you initiated it.”

you know you hurt him by saying it, but it hurts you even more because it’s the truth. you feel like an idiot for leaning into the temptation; it’s only going to make it all more complicated.

your eyes cloud with moisture as you look at him, and he eases the attitude instantly. the energy has once again shifted, and chris can visibly see the dismay written on your face.

“it was stupid because it doesn’t change anything. this still won’t work and we both know it, and it fucking sucks so much because shit like that only makes it harder to get over you.” your voice breaks pathetically, and you brush the first fallen tear from your cheek.

he takes a step forward, hands stretching out to hold either side of your head. it’s an uncontrollable reaction to seeing you cry.

and he knows it’s egocentric, but the last thing in the world he wants is for you to move on. chris can’t guarantee that you won’t if you’re not together, and he would never interfere if you found happiness elsewhere.

that doesn’t mean he can stand the thought of you finding it with anyone besides him though.

“so don’t get over me. be with me.”

a small sob passes by your lips, which are still raw from earlier. your hand quivers as you place it against his chest gently, forcing some space between you.

his arms drop back to his side in defeat, because he can tell that the physical contact is doing the exact opposite of helping.

“don’t say that. you know it’s not fair, to either of us. we’d just go around in circles, and i won’t let that happen. i won’t ruin all of the good by driving us into the ground.”

chris stills upon hearing this. he’s scared to move, scared to even breathe, because it means the moment will continue and he’ll inevitably watch you walk away.

“please, i’ll do anything. we can move in together, or plan extra trips just the two of us. i’ll…i’ll make the time, just don’t leave.” he pleads, forcibly holding himself back from reaching out for you again.

chris knows it won’t fix anything even as he says it. you’d be coming home to an empty apartment, and finding time to schedule a vacation would be nearly impossible. they’re some of the same things you’ve already talked about, it won’t stop you now.

you suck in a breath, trying to compose yourself to the best of your ability. it doesn’t really help, and you can’t meet his eye as you choke out the final sentence.

“i love you, but i have to go.”

chris feels his mouth open, but the words don’t come out. you turn on your heel without missing another beat, fumbling with the lock a bit before tearing the door open.

you finally hear his response as you go, faintly over your shoulder: it’s quiet confirmation that he loves you too.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @sofieeeeex @sturnzsun @sturniolossss @coquettecowg1rl @sturnedits

[the-summ0ning]

𓉸ྀི Linger 𓉸ྀི PART ONE

Roomie!Nick Folio x Fem!introvert!Bookworm!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Awkwardly avoiding your hot roommate after him walking in on you listening to your guilty pleasure was easy enough, you thought, until it wasn't. Not when you had all the same friends, and you were all in a cabin in the woods for Noah's birthday, and Nick shows up looking like said guilty pleasure.

!!!THIS PIECE IS PURE FICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, NOT YOUR THING TURN AWAY. BUT AGAIN IT'S JUST FICTION AND NOT HOW THESE PPL ARE IRL!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: swearing, recreational drug and alcohol use, awkward romcom moments, fluff, yearning.

A/n: hahah spooky season is upon us and I wrote this after I had insomnia for over 24 hours after the wildest week of having the flu a few weeks ago, and have been sitting on it debating if I wanted to post this. This could be a totally considered self-indulgent, maybe cringe, but oh well it's my digital footprint & I have to live with. But welcome to my first fic on this blog, and my first piece posted at least for the BO guys in general, had to show the cinnamon roll Folio love first. thank yewwww and enjoy

⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。°⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。

The universe had a painfully ironic sense of humor. Noah Sebastian and his friends, with their twisted embrace of clichés, unknowingly played right into its hands.

After years of running in the same circles, Noah had grown to resent sharing his birthday with Halloween—except for the rare occasions when he leaned into the theme completely. This year was one of those times. A slasher-themed party in a huge cabin in the woods for the weekend. Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d promised months ago to make all the baked goods—long before you knew the party theme—and that his closest friend and bandmate happened to be your roommate, you would’ve bailed. But you were a good friend, one who loved your friends and kept your word. Even if it meant enduring the mortification of being around Folio, said roommate, fighting the urge to disappear into the woods every time he glanced or came in your direction.

Because Folio knew your dirty little secret.

One you hadn’t even shared with your closest girlfriends. A secret you’d intended to bury in the deepest corners of your feral little brain—until Folio, of all people, unearthed it. He’d come home early from a fishing trip because of a storm and found you in your natural state of debauchery: high, sprawled on the couch, blasting a dark romance smut audiobook through the living room’s soundbar to a concerning decibel. To make matters worse, it was during the most graphic part, and not just any audiobook—this one had sound effects. And masks. And filthy, filthy things.

You’d nearly combusted when you saw him standing in the doorway for who knows how long, looking bemused, at you giggling and quietly squealling into a throw pillow. You scrambled to pause the audio, but of course, the universe wasn’t on your side, and your phone took its sweet time. Long enough for him to hear everything. 

It’s not like you were about to do anything. You weren’t physically aroused, just mortified that he now knew what you listened to when he wasn’t around. Mortified as if his living room had been christened by your smut. Mortified he probably assumed you touched yourself to it when he wasn’t there—or worse, that it was some deep, dark fantasy of yours. No that totally wasn’t your guilty conscience projecting or anything.

You’d only lived with Nick for four months. Four months of being around him more than you ever had since meeting him through mutual friends years ago. Before this, you could count on both hands the number of times you’d been alone together. Not that there wasn’t any issues with him, you just considered the two of you as polar opposites to think he’d actually want to be around you or you’d have enough in common to pass the basis of ‘acquaintance’ or ‘mutual friend’.

He was funny, the kind of guy who made your cheeks hurt from laughing at his corny jokes. He was charming, with that Southern hospitality that always seemed to melt your insides, and his country twang made you melt just that much more. You hated how easily he could make your social anxiety melt away at parties, offering you a hit of his joint or a cigarette and small conversation when he noticed you hadn’t your usual friends you clung to. Confident, magnetic, always ready to be rowdy, a through and through extrovert, everything you were not.

You were an extroverted introvert–at best. A pessimistic optimist. An awkward rain shower on a sunny day. The house cat who only craved attention when it suited you, having zoomies when no one was watching.

That’s exactly what the embarrassing night felt like—your version of a cat caught in a burst of energy when it thought no one was looking. Except Folio was looking. And all he did was give you that dopey smile, the one with the gleam in his dark chocolate eyes, and made some smart-ass remark before disappearing into his room.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around. Cute.”

As if he were the amused owner, catching his pet in the act.

He never brought it up again, but you both knew. And it gnawed at you. Maybe you were again projecting and he hadn’t thought much of it, but still!

And now, of all the costumes in the world, famous slashers, any other character from a horror movie, or crashed out and went with a basic t-shirt in the same vein of the theme of the party. No. He had chosen to wear a Ghostface mask. You, meanwhile, were dressed as a cheesy, slutty Casey Becker from Scream. It wasn’t planned. You’d done your best to avoid him the last two weeks, conveniently ever since the theme had been known to you. Quick hellos and goodbyes, or hasty exchanges with those days.

But tonight, at the party, there was no escaping him. Between leaving early before he even woke, helping with decorations, and playing the mom friend throughout the night for your own friends, you made yourself scarce. Dodging him became an art form. Until, of course, he cornered you.

You were about to refill Matt’s drink when Nick approached, his Ghostface mask pulled up. He tossed Matt’s empty cup, and handed you a cup of red jungle juice (with gummies shaped like body parts floating the mix of fruit of course), his hand casually settling on the small of your back, guiding you wordlessly toward the quieter part of the yard by the small shed by the brush of woods. The touch sent an unexpected chill through you, even though you tried to ignore it. You turned to protest, but he tapped his ear, signaling the blunt tucked behind it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath, and let him lead you to the shed. As much as you weren’t ready to talk to him, you hadn’t taken a break all night, and the excuse to get away from the crowd and babysit your friends was tempting. Your social battery ticking away faster than anticipated.

“Didn’t realize you were such a great party planner,” he said, leaning against the shed as he lit the blunt, his eyes catching under the faint glow of the solar lights.

You shrugged, struggling to keep your voice casual as your heart raced and cheeks warmed. His presence was overwhelming, making you hyper-aware of everything—the slight brush of his fingers when he passed you the blunt, the way his lips curled when he smiled. Even the music felt like it was conspiring against you, with Deftones' haunting melodies filling the background, stirring things inside you that you wished would stay buried.

“It was a group effort,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes to avoid his gaze. The warmth of his hand on your back lingered, leaving you unsettled in ways you weren’t prepared for. But when you glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. I’m just here to boost morale and be the life of the party,” he chuckled, though the sound felt a little forced. As if he was trying just as hard as you to keep things light, keep things normal. 

He passed the blunt back, and you took a hit, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about that night too. It had been weeks, but it still felt raw in the fiber of your being, especially now with the tension hanging between you.

“And I know half of these ideas were your asshole suggestions, after searching kid halloween party on Pinterest.” He added, smirking. “But they love it. Noah loves it.”

You smiled despite yourself, taking another hit quickly to hide it, the warmth of his compliment stirring something soft in your chest. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I worry my trolling gets taken a little too seriously.”

“They thrive off it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. He gestured for you to keep the blunt, taking a swig of his drink instead. “All for you, bub. Roomie blunt.”

The nickname hit you harder than you wanted to admit, a surge of affection mixing with the ever-present tension. His voice, low and soft, carried a weight that made it feel more intimate than it should have. You swallowed, trying to push the feeling down. Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“Matching costumes and now roomie blunts?” You teased, though your voice sounded breathier than you intended. “Are we hitting new roommate milestones?”

He laughed, but it was quieter this time, almost shy. “Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” He said almost apologetically, there was still an edge of smugness maybe arrogance. “I tried to wear a t-shirt with just Michael and Freddy on it, but Jolly told me to ‘piss off and I wasn’t wearing that to our best friend’s birthday party.’ Drove me to a Spirit before we picked Noah up, it was like the only thing left close to the theme.” He explained. “I didn’t even have a plain black shirt. Had to flip this inside out.”

“Oh Jolly said ‘fuck you thought’ for real.” You giggled, the effect of the cannabis hitting you as you rubbed the rough inseam on his shoulder that you failed to notice when he walked in tonight. It was comical and relieving to know this wasn't a jab at you now, and just a half-ass last minute idea--typical Folio fashion.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” he pointed a finger up. Balancing the cup rim between his teeth, his drink splashing on himself as he pulled his t-shirt up exposing his torso as he clumsily tugged his shirt toward you to see a print of Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger holding hands in a meadow.

Through puffs of smoke, you full out cackled, now holding his shoulder for support. “What? Did you think you were too tough to dress up for Nowah’s birthday party?” Mustering your best baby voice in between your wheezing, the tension breaking for a moment. But even as you laughed, your eyes lingered on him a second too long. On the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his dark ochre eyes seemed to trace your every movement, as if he were studying you, waiting for something. But then he pulled the mask down, breaking the easiness of the moment.

He smoothed his shirt down, mocking your laugh. “The fuck am I gonna do with this after?” 

Well…

Even with his shirt inside out, with alcohol spills staining it, and ash from your blunt speckling his clothes, the look did things to you--he looked good. The mask, the way he carried himself, all of it stirred something deeper. Your mind flashed back to that audiobook, to the night he caught you—and suddenly, the faceless man from the story wasn’t faceless anymore. It was Nick. It had always been Nick, lurking in the corners of your thoughts, even when you tried to deny it for several months before. You had buried the attraction you felt towards him well enough, denying that maybe your harmless crush was something more. Letting the term roommates be your boundary for him, not wanting to make an arrangement of living with an attractive acquaintance that you had festering feelings for even more awkward.

Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. And even though your mind screamed at you to say something, to make a joke, you were too caught up in the moment—the way his presence pressed into yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like static.

You handed the blunt back, your fingers brushing a second too long with his, the touch jolting something within you. “I’m sure you can find other uses for it, Bub,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost like a promise.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand lingered near yours, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he was waiting for something—waiting for you to break the silence. The air between you felt heavy, charged, like the moment could tip in any direction. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath coming a little too fast. You were standing so close now, the night’s sounds fading into the background. 

Your lips parted, wanting to say something, anything—but the words caught in your throat. Maybe this was your chance. Maybe you could make sure things weren’t as weird as you imagined it to be. Or maybe you could take that small step forward, close the gap between you, and see where it led.

But instead, you took a step back. 

“Thanks for the morale boost! Gonna go beg Ruffilo to play something less whiny and horny now!”

The moment stretched, taut and unspoken, as you turned away, nerves rattling inside you. You felt him watching you as you sauntered off, the weight of his gaze burning into your back, the unspoken tension still thick in the air.

Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!

But as you walked away, your heart still pounding, you knew the moment between you wasn’t over. Not really. It lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. And you couldn’t help but wonder if next time, you’d have the courage to step into it.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched your denim skirt ride up slightly with each step you took away. He swallowed hard, the familiar pang of frustration settling in his chest. Admiring you from afar had become second nature to him, an unspoken routine he’d never quite managed to shake.

You perplexed him, right down to his core.

Every time he felt he was getting closer to understanding you, to unraveling the mystery of what made you so magnetic—you were gone. Slipping through his fingers just as quickly as you’d come into focus.

It had been that way since Matt and your friend first introduced you all those years ago. At first, he found your quietness cute—a stark contrast to the loud energy of your other friends. But as you started coming around more, he saw there was so much more beneath the surface. The dry wit, the easy charm you showed only to those closest to you, the way you seemed to light up in the right company. And then there was the obvious—he had been attracted to you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

But the more you intrigued him, the further away you seemed to drift, casting him aside without even realizing it. It gnawed at him, deeper than he liked to admit. Nick Folio wasn’t used to this—he could get anyone to open up, to be themselves around him with little effort. But you? You were a challenge he couldn’t crack, and it was driving him crazy.

It baffled him how Matt had convinced you to be roommates in the first place. Living together hadn’t helped his case at all—if anything, it made things worse. Since the moment he’d walked in on you listening to your smut audiobook, he could feel the shift, how you’d started shutting him out. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you avoided him now, keeping your distance, as though that moment had broken some invisible line between you.

But it hadn’t, not for him. If anything, he loved that glimpse of who you were outside the parties and hangouts. Seeing you comfortable, in your own space, high out of your mind, letting your guard down enough to geek out over something you clearly enjoyed.

Did you think it made him see you differently? Did you think that knowing your private little quirks would change how he felt?

If anything, it made perfect sense. A girl like you, attractive, smart, with a mind that clearly wandered far beyond the surface—you were bound to have something like that. Hell, now he understood why your nose was always buried in your Kindle. He’d probably be the same way if he had something that compelling.

He had hoped the blunt he’d offered earlier would serve as an olive branch, something to ease the tension between you. But now, watching you skitter away, retreating from him again, he wasn’t so sure.

“There’s the kingpin,” Noah grinned lazily, coming up beside him clapping him on the shoulder as Matt trailed behind.

Nick tried to muster a smile, but it was clear something was weighing on him, his usual carefree demeanor dulled by the conflict that tugged at him deep inside.

“What’s wrong Folio?” Matt was the first to ask.

“Nothing, just clearing my mind a bit.” He lied.

“Yeah, okay.” Noah snorted, trying to tug the mask on top of his head down. He was clearly tipsy, enjoying himself. “If you don’t want to talk about it, whatever—but I know what will really help clear your mind.” The lazy grin turned sinister.

The drummer merely raised his eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“Manhunt—slasher style.”

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Would it really be a slasher-themed birthday party if Noah hadn’t forced the remaining guests into a game of manhunt, despite how dark it was and how most people were borderline drunk? No, only Noah would think this was still a good idea. You didn’t mind, though. It distracted you from your exchange with Nick—finding hiding spots, giggling quietly, getting chased, and chasing your friends around. It felt cathartic, especially in your tipsy, cross-faded state.

Noah was too far gone to establish real ground rules anyway. The only rule was that nobody hid past the brush of the woods, and he was always the seeker. Brush, cabin, shed, backyard—fair game for your large group of friends. It was the third and final round now, and most of you were out of breath, legs aching, too close to rolling an ankle in the dark. The adrenaline was wearing thin, and the nostalgia for childhood games had run its course. You were all gonna feel the aftermath of this in the morning.

“Once you're found, head to the fire pit, pop a squat, and call it quits for the LOVE of god,” Matt groaned, hands on his hips, out of breath.

With all the cabin’s lights off, the vast space was hard to navigate. Maybe calling it a cabin was underselling it. This was a huge luxury lodge, a weekend splurge to comfortably fit the group with several bedrooms and rooms to hide in. You’d found a bedroom on the second floor at the end of the hall, away from everyone else, deciding to hide alone instead of pairing up like some of the others. You didn’t want to change your spot like you had the other two rounds you played outside. This was it, and you’d let whoever come to you to find you.

You weren’t sure who’d claimed the room earlier in the night when everyone arrived, but it didn’t matter now. The large bed in the center had ample space underneath for you to squeeze under. The bed skirt fell perfectly, hiding you completely as you curled up, knees pressed against your chest, mouth against the sleeve of your knitted sweater to stifle any sound.

Your heart pounded as you heard the seekers stomping clumsily through the halls, doors creaking open, followed by screeches of defeat from your friends as they were found. Finally, Noah and Davis's triumphant laughter echoed through the house, growing distant as they led the captured outside.

For a moment, you thought you were safe. You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing slightly. The steady thrum of your heartbeat began to slow, and you debated slipping out the back door to claim victory, imagining the disappointed faces of Noah, Davis, and the rest when you emerged triumphant telling them to suck it.

But then you heard it—a single set of footsteps at the end of the hall. You froze. Your pulse roared in your ears as a familiar laugh echoed down the corridor.

“You guys suck at this game!” Nick’s voice rang out, smug and teasing. Faint bickering followed from outside, Noah and Davis shouting back that they were done, ready to drink by the fire.

Nick scoffed. “Fuckin’ amateurs didn’t even check my room. There’s still people hiding!”

You tensed, silently praying, Please, don’t be in his room. Please, don’t let this be his room.

But your luck had run out. You heard the door handle turn with an agonizing slowness, the door creaking open.

“Bryan, I swear, if you’re making out with your girlfriend in my room instead of hiding—” Nick’s voice trailed off as he stepped inside. You could hear his confusion as he scanned the seemingly empty room. It was his room, of course. The one place you’d somehow ended up hiding.

You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest as he walked around. His footsteps were soft, deliberate. The room was dark, but you could see the faint glow of his phone’s flashlight as he swept it around, peeking under the desk, inside drawers—absurd places no one could possibly fit.

You started to hope he might give up. His footsteps retreated toward the door, and you exhaled softly, relaxing ever so slightly, your body tense from being curled up so tightly.

But then you heard the closet door swing open with a creak. “Got you!” he shouted abruptly, his voice playful. You jumped, your head hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud. You bit down harder on your sleeve to stifle any sound, praying he hadn’t noticed.

The door closed again, and there was a long silence. Then his voice dropped lower, a teasing edge creeping into it.

“I knew there was a little mouse in here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock, blood rushing to your face. No way. Was it just coincidence? Or had he somehow found out—about the pet names in your books, about your... tastes? Did he find your Goodreads somehow?! You screwed your eyes shut tighter, wishing you could disappear.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out from under the bed. You shrieked as you tumbled out, blinking into the blinding light of Nick’s phone. He was doubled over, laughing, thankfully with no Ghostface mask on.

“Where the hell did you get that from?!” you demanded, fed up, voice hushed but furious.

He was still chuckling, genuinely confused. “Get what from?”

“‘Little mouse?’” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest since he discarded his shirt after the first round. “What the hell is that?”

He raised his hands in surrender, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know! It just seemed fitting.”

“You didn’t snoop through my bookshelf?” you accused, heart racing for entirely different reasons now.

His brow furrowed. “Why would I go through your bookshelf? Where’s this coming from?”

“You know where!”

“I don’t, though!” His voice softened, growing more serious. “You really think I would go through your stuff?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t know... you caught me listening to my smut—”

Nick had the audacity to huff a laugh, and it sent your blood boiling all over again.

“It’s not funny, Nick!” You glared at him, horrified by how quickly this night was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.

“It’s not,” he agreed, but his grin remained. “But it kind of is. Because that just confirmed everything I thought.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “What did you think?”

“That you got weird about me seeing you... be yourself.”

You scoffed. “I did not.” You did.

He said your name quietly, and it made you look at him, caught by the softness in his voice. “I don’t care that you were geeking out over some dirty audiobook. I thought it was cute.”

“I was not.” Your face burned. “And it’s not cute.”

“What would you call it then? Fangirling?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms tighter. “No.”

Nick exhaled, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m not trying to make this a thing. Relax, okay?”

But relaxing was impossible with him standing there, shirtless, casual like he hadn’t just crawled into your head. He was so nonchalant, while you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Finally, he turned on the lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he gestured to the bed. “Can we sit? I’m not trying to argue, and my legs are tired.”

You stared at him, defiant for a moment longer, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolled the desk chair up to you, knees nearly brushing, close enough that the warmth of his skin made the air between you thrum.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he teased, his voice low.

“I’m not a brat,” you muttered, looking down at your lap, “I’m just... embarrassed.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy, until Nick broke it with a sigh. “I said the wrong thing. But I called it cute because... let’s face it, I know you, but I don’t *know* you.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, his face softer now. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite name.

“I could say the same,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m a simple guy.” Chortling to himself. “Half my body shows almost all my special interests.” He gestured to his tattoos, the ones you’d seen countless times but never really looked at until now, trying to avoid finding yet another reason to be drawn to him. “You? You’re a mystery to me. I’ve known you for years, and lived with you for months, but I’ve never seen you just... let your guard down. Sure, in rare passing moments that I wished I could see more of, because I love seeing you light up when you talk.”

Your heart twisted at his words, warmth creeping up your chest, but before you could respond, he added, teasing, “Now I know you’re the quiet girl who secretly geeks out over porn—”

“Nick!” You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands, the heat on your cheeks unbearable.

Nick laughed softly, tugging your hands away from your face, his grip warm and grounding as his thumbs traced gentle patterns over your knuckles. "Relax, relax, it's our secret," he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender.

Your heart raced, pulse quickening as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His laughter faded into a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged, like you were both standing at the edge of something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

"I like it... that we have a secret just between us," he confessed, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react.

His words hung in the air, and you froze for a beat, the weight of them sinking in and nearly taking your breath away. When you looked up at him, his brown eyes-usually playful-were filled with something deeper.

There was a warmth there, an affection that made your stomach flip as you watched him nervously lick his lips.

Your face felt hot, and you weren't used to being in such an intimate moment with him, your hands still held in his. But despite the closeness, you weren't uncomfortable. If anything, you realized how close the two of you actually were when his eyes dropped to your lips, and your pulse fluttered even faster.

When he started to lean in, your body moved instinctively, meeting him halfway. His lips brushed against yours-soft, tentative, and a little chapped from the night's activities, but sweeter than you could have imagined. The faint taste of jungle juice lingered on both your mouths, and his hands stayed gently on yours, as if he was afraid to push further.

Hesitant, like he thought you'd pull away any second.

But you didn't want to run this time.

The kiss, as surprising as it was, had a way of grounding you-settling the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in your mind.

You found yourself pulling your hands free from his and sliding one up to the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing the buzzed part of his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, gently tugging him closer. Your touch seemed to ease his hesitation, and he responded with a firmer grip on your waist, his hands warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

The tension of the past weeks, all the uncertainty and confusion, melted away in his touch. His lips fit perfectly against yours, and as he grew more confident, the kiss became less restrained, his hand gripping your waist tighter as he gently guided you back onto the mattress. You both smiled into the kiss, the weight of his body pressing down on you, though he propped an arm by your head to keep from crushing you entirely.

In that moment, with the world outside fading away, you were in a kind of bliss you hadn't felt in so long. The feel of his lips, his warmth, the way his tongue softly brushed against yours-it was all-consuming, and you could have stayed there all night, wrapped up in him.

"Did Y/N kill you, Nick?!" Noah's drunken laughter rang through the wooden door, followed by the sound of Davis and one of your friends giggling along with him. The sudden intrusion startled you both, and you froze, your breath catching as the door handle rattled.

Nick groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from you, the absence of his touch making you ache in a way you hadn't expected. You quickly sat up, trying to smooth your hair and fix your sweater, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced over at him. He, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, walking casually to the desk to grab the half-smoked blunt from earlier before making his way to the door.

"We were just deciding if we wanted to finish this," Nick said coolly, holding up the blunt as he opened the door, playing it off like the two of you hadn't been making out just moments ago. His calm demeanor caught you off guard, while you were sure guilt was written all over your face-your hair messy, your cheeks still warm, and your sweater slightly askew as much as you made yourself presentable.

Your friend peered over Nick's shoulder with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Without us? How rude. You're now officially obligated to share-let's go."

Nick shot you a sheepish smile before offering his hand, extending it toward you as the others started to head back down the hall, unaware of what had just transpired between the two of you.

You hesitated for a second, your heart still racing, before taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. The moment might have been interrupted, but the charged energy between you was far from gone.

The universe did have a painfully sick sense of humor after all.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

A/n: pls lmk your thoughts as writing this I had so many ideas of how I wanted this to go, and the ending was weaker than intended but this is what I got after being up for over 24 hours 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I will be writing a part two 👹

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP.3

CW: Same as before.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: PROLOGUE 2

FUN FACT: You were just about to remove your unbelievable amount of jewelry and go to sleep when the dark carriage appeared in the middle of your room.

You didn't notice because you were busy tryna reach for your bangles but then you were suddenly yanked by the hair into the carriage where you quickly lost consciousness from the strong sleeping magic inside. That horse got no chill, wtf..

This is one of those times where you need to channel out your inner Belphegor.

Be loveably infuriatingly bratty and murderous at the same time.

Turns out, you were yanked by the hair and shoved into the carriage by that creepy looking horse because you were "chosen" by the dark mirror to attend their oh-so-prestigious college. (Move out the way Harry Potter, there's a new chosen one in town—)

So you decided to stress these fuckers into bringing you back to where their unhinged horse first took you.

You don't have to be a genius to know that if any of the brothers notice your disappearance, there can either be a war or a bloodbath. It's either one of those things or both of them.

So as you were freed and guided in front of the mirror by the bird-man who you've come to find out was the headmaster of this oh-so-grand college that you've never even heard of.. you side-eye the Mr. Boutta-sell-yo-kidneys guy that tried to take your bangles before you faced the mirror.

'...Hmm? Who's this?' You think, as you look at the person half-hiding behind the mirror.

They seemed to be quite nervous as they gave you a small wave, earning them a smile from you.

The headmaster seemed to be confused about them for a second but quickly remembered something as they called upon that person.

It seems that Yuu, quite a confusing name they've got also desires to be sent back to their home as they said they had responsibilities they must fulfill.

Nice.

Twinning with your problems fr.

It's like you two looked at each other and something just clicked.

Like, Omg we're both kidnapped by a school filled with hot men and forced to be their unpaid therapists, Slay gurly~ 💅🏼 sry it's your inner asmo talking.

You decide to let Yuu be the first to face the mirror so that they'll get home first.

Ah, aren't you so kind and patient?

You don't know anything about that mirror, so it's best that you let someone else have a go first to see if it's safe.

Sorry Yuu, we may have clicked but I don't know if I can trust any of you right now.

It's too risky.

If we ever meet again, I'll treat you to a meal in hell's kitchen as compensation.

Thank Belphie for my trust issues.

...

...Huh.. The place that Yuu belongs to "doesn't exist"?

What a strange response... This damn mirror better not give you the same words lest it wants to be melted out of existence via hellfire.

You can see the dudes behind y'all who turned out to be the housewardens of the dorms of this school start whispering to each other like some nosy aunties on a regular sunday morning.

You gave reassuring pats on Yuu's shoulder after they went back beside you, getting a shaky smile in return.

"I'm sure that it'll be okay.. Their dark carriage took you so it must have the capabilities to take you back, right?" You whispered to Yuu, trying to keep them from panicking as you notice their breaths starting to quicken.

"People in distress are prone to being exploited and manipulated by others. Breathe slowly and calm your mind." You lean closer to their ear, rubbing small circles on their back.

Panicking won't help anyone. You had to learn that from experience. Now you just want to make sure that Yuu doesn't have to.

You may be alright with using this new acquaintance of yours to verify the safety of the mirror, but you won't stand by and watch them expose their vulnerability to a group of people that haven't really made a show of good morals they might possess.

As the headmaster guy started going on a rant about how "tHiS hAvE nEvEr hApPenEd bEfoRe" you keep an eye on the five housewardens dudes, seeing as those guys were eyeing you and Yuu lmao💀 like they were looking at some weird... thing.

Except for the shady mf who's looking straight at you with his weird-ass smile.

Really giving you the impulse to sock him in the face again.

(Oh, and also that tablet that kept taking pictures of you thinking that they were slick when you can hear the click every time a pic was taken.)

The headmaster then guided you to the mirror, mumbling pleas for the reflective object to work properly.

"I... I seem to be unable to reach the place that you call home.."

The mirror spoke, troubled and seemingly confused.

Yuu peeks at your face, before paling and trying to get closer to comfort you the way that you did for them, only to full on try to tackle you when you bring out your staff to try and break the damned thing.

If you can't bring me home then maybe I can take your power and do it myself.

MEANWHILE...

"There are traces of what seems to be teleportation magic as well as a smidgen of sleeping magic mixed in, on center of MC's room."

Solomon stated, glancing at the people sitting around the big oval table inside Diavolo's castle.

If anyone else saw the attendance in this little meeting of theirs, they'd have a heart attack.

I mean, when will you ever see representatives of the celestial realm mingling with those of the devildom, the human world and the grim reaper in such a serious manner?

You'd think there's an intergalactic threat on the loose if you ever see their expressions..

But that's the thing.

You weren't there to see them.

That's the problem.

Someone or something took you away from them.

Those connected to you via pact can still feel your emotions and connections through your pact marks but nothing more.

At this rate, they worry that you're too far to reach because they couldn't get to you through their pacts. Where could you be?

The only reassurance they have that you're fine, is your candle in Thirteen's hands.

The last string of reason they have that is keeping them from drowning in their grief and anger.

The burning flame of your candle gave them comfort and fueled their determination to bring you back into their arms.

Don't worry MC, we'll bring you back.

No matter what it takes.

← Pr. 2 | Chapter List | Pr. 4 →

I'm tryna sketch my MC, but it's taking a long-ass time.

Elae: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter y'all😊

Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog guys, it really helps me out :3

See y'all next time~

(still tryna figure out tagging)

@leviathans-tail-scales

@f0uerleafedcl0ver

@a-traveling-void-human

@pumafiredraw

@lunasakuravalentine

I tried to tag all of y'all but it won't work for some reason :c

[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

[cepheustarot]

What awaits you in November?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur. You build your own life and destiny.

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: As I see it, here you will become the one who will be at the center of a dispute between two people. you will feel like you are beietwen two fires, because it will be difficult to support the someone alone person, these two people are your close people and each of them is right in his own way.  but as I see it, here you generally forget about the situation and say, it's not my business, two adults and mature people are quarreling, so they can come to a compromise without my participation. But another one will decide to put two people in their place and say, stop arguing! don't you have anything else to do? or something like that, in general, your words will help resolve this conflict or at least minimize disputes. The second event is due to the fact that you are finishing a long and hard work, perhaps someone has been diligently preparing for the upcoming exams. you finally go on vacation or go on vacation, give yourself the opportunity to relax, and you will be alone with yourself. The third event promises a new period or a new stage in your life, you will start doing something new for you or go to another university, find a new job that is generally different from the one you worked at before. Moreover, you will like these changes, you will be satisfied with the new in your life, you will have a passion, an interest in everything that you will start doing.

Pile 2: You were in suspense for a long time, you didn't know what to do and how to move, because everything somehow returned to the same thing or to what you started with. The pressure from the outside has led you to an apathetic state, you have withdrawn to yourself and have already lost hope of solving the problem, but this month you will have the opportunity to break the vicious circle and take the next step, move on to another stage. Moreover, as soon as you do this, everything will get better in your life, relationships with people, finances will increase, your condition will improve, there will be a lot of time for what you wanted to realize for a long time, but could not for certain reasons.The next event promises you new acquaintances! Or you will be among people, maybe you will meet with your friends or relatives, or spend time in a big company and it will definitely leave a pleasant memory for you! You can also be in the center of attention, people will approach you to get acquainted. It can also mean that if you are blogging or developing in social networks in social networks, then people will notice you, subscribe to you, put likes and everything like that. For those who work as a freelancer, this is also a good event, since new customers, buyers will come to you and a new stream of people will bring you good money. Also, at the end of the month, you can expect a spontaneous trip, or you can move to a new apartment, a new house, change your place of residence, you can change your place of work or change something in your appearance, here the key word is spontaneity. But be careful and attentive, because some changes may not work out as you planned or as you wanted and you may face not very good consequences, so still think carefully about your spontaneous idea before proceeding to execution.

Pile 3: The 1st event is connected with your meeting with a partner or future love! If you have been single for a while, then here you will have the opportunity to meet your love. To describe a person briefly, he is quite mature, hardworking, reliable, responsible, generous, he may be the same age as you or a little older than you. If you are already in a romantic relationship, then this month you will spend a lot of time with your love, you will feel very good and comfortable together, the person will show you all his love and attention, in general, there is a warm and harmonious period in your relationship. If you are in a quarrel or a difficult situation with your lover, then here you will successfully find a compromise and a solution to your problem! The second event is due to the fact that you refuse to communicate with a person from your environment, it can be either your friend, acquaintance, or someone from relatives. But! if you refuse, you will soon meet another person who will become your good friend or at least a good interlocutor, you will feel that he understands you, supports you and you can share with him everything that worries your soul and thoughts. You can also reach a compromise with a person with whom you have a difficult situation, he will make concessions to you and change his attitude towards you for the better, for example, he will become more attentive to you and your feelings. The next event is related to your plans and goals, perhaps you have just started implementing recently and the process is difficult for you, there are a lot of failures on your way or something does not work out for a long time. In this case, you need to take a break and postpone the case, spend time with your loved ones or alone to dispel your thoughts and look at the problem from the other side or simply relax. In any case, you have enough strength and resources to pass all the obstacles, so don't worry too much! Believe that you will succeed.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback <3

[trybeforeyoudeny]

“C’mon Ed’s, there’s gotta be someone here that catches your eye.”

Nancy had dragged her best friend all the way to Indy with the promise of finding him a suitable match- much to Eddie’s dismay. He didn’t want to find a match. He knows he’s not exactly the type of guy people are interested in, even at the gay bar they’re currently drinking at.

What’s worse is the thought of actually finding someone that he’s interested in here just to go back to Hawkins once the weekend is over and wallow in his own self-pity.

“Nope, no one,” he replies dryly before downing the rest of his beer.

“Hmph,” she lets out an irritated noise before raising her glass to her lips, peaking over the top to scope out the crowd. “What about him?” She juts her chin out.

“Who are you… him? Are you serious?” He scowls when his eyes land on the man she’s looking at. He’s practically a ken doll in real life with slicked-back blonde hair and icy blue eyes that are cutting through him from across the bar.

“What? Not into the pretty boy type?” She raises a brow at him and continues her search.

“Obviously not! What about me says that’s my-”he pauses mid-sentence, jaw slacked as he looks past the ken doll and sees the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on.

“What were you saying about that not being your type?” She smirks.

“What? I- oh, shut up!” He groans, not taking his eyes off the brunette on the dance floor.

“Wait, he looks familiar. Eddie, is that-“

“Steve Harrington?!” His eyes widen and his heart drops.

It’s been nearly a decade since graduation but the constellation of moles on his neck and body- Jesus H. Christ, that crop top is doing things to him- and those honeyed brown eyes are all he needs to confirm it’s him, king Steve. But what the hell is he doing here?

“He’s certainly caught your eye,” Nancy snorts from beside him, nudging him up off his seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” He nearly shrieks as she pushes him in the direction of the dance floor.

“What do you think I’m doing? Go talk to him!”

“I can’t just go talk to Steve Harrington, Nance. He’s probably not even gay! He’s gotta be here with someone else playing as their wingman,” he scours the mess of sweaty bodies, searching for anyone else he may know.

“Ha! See? Buckleys here as well! He must be with her,” he smiles proudly but it drops quickly when he feels himself still being ushered away.

“Just go Ed, you don’t have to shove your tongue down his throat, just make conversation,” she urges him, pleading at him with her eyes to give it a chance. To let someone in.

“Fine, whatever. I won’t say I told you so when I’m back here in two minutes with a bruised eye and an even more bruised ego,” he rolls his eyes and shuffles his way towards the crowd, twisting and turning his way around people until he’s stood right in front of the jock himself.

Eddie had always hated Steve in high school- at least that’s what he told himself to hide the embarrassingly huge crush he had on him growing up.

Towards the end of his final senior year, they ran in very similar circles yet hardly interacted face to face. He hated the way the kids absolutely raved about him and his jealousy got in the way of ever giving him a fair chance even when they ended up at the same events as one another. There had been birthdays, graduations, Joyce and hoppers wedding- and though they’d be in close proximity they hardly acknowledged each other.

Eventually, he had heard that he and Robin moved to Indie and had accepted the fact that they would never get the chance to grow their relationship past anything more than reluctant acquaintances.

Standing in front of him now he’s seeing a much different side of Steve. The Steve he knew was a ladies man- a polo-wearing jock who was the captain of the swim team and floated through school without as much as a turned-up nose in his direction while Eddie was the Satan worshipping freak, a name given to him by his lovely classmates.

The Steve standing in front of him now was a completely different person. He’s wearing denim shorts and a cropped top, remnants of glitter scattered across his cheeks like kisses. Eddie has to stop himself from chuckling at the idea of Robin pinning Steve down to apply it, and… eyeliner?!

Eddie feels like he’s about to pass away on the spot and he forgets how to breathe.

“Hello?”

Oh. Oh shit. Right. He’s supposed to be saying something right now, not gawking at him.

“Um, hi?” It comes out like a question and he wants to slap a hand against his forehead. Why did he let Nancy drag him into this situation?

Before he can come up with anything to say Steve’s leaning in oh so close with a smirk on his face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear before whispering into it, “do you come here often? I haven’t seen you here before and I’d definitely remember you.”

Eddie nearly scoffs at that because clearly, Steve isn’t remembering him.

“It’s my first time, big boy,” he responds swiftly, a sideways grin painted on his face.

There’s a flash of something in Steve’s eyes when the nickname leaves his lips and Eddie is beginning to realize that Steve may not be as straight as he previously assumed. And well… he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Steve purrs while twirling one of Eddie’s loose curls around his finger.

“Eddie,” he deadpans, waiting to see if anything clicks for Steve.

It does.

Steve freezes, dropping Eddie’s curl before taking a step back and looking him up and down.

“Eddie,” Steve echoes, big doe eyes widening at the realization.

Eddie looks different now but he’s still the same Eddie he crushed on in the eighties. His hair is cut slightly shorter now and is pulled up into a wild bun with loose curls flying free around his face. His style has toned down since high school but it’s still so Eddie.

He’s still got his dark ripped jeans but his battle vest is traded in for a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, the arm holes dipping low enough to show off the new tattoos covering his ribs. He wants to reach out and touch them.

“So you do remember me, Harrington!” Eddie teases, setting Steve on fire.

“I-yes, of course I do Eddie. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first… I think I’ve had too many of those fruity cocktails,” he admits.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you just this once,” Eddie chides, “if you’ll buy my next drink.”

“That I can do,” Steve smiles and oh… oh god his smile. Was it always this breathtaking?

The pair head back to the bar where they find Robin and Nancy deep in conversation, both of them leaning in close and giggling way too much for this to be a casual chat so they sneak past them and don’t interrupt.

Steve orders them both a colourful drink with a little umbrella sticking out of it, something Eddie would never have ordered for himself but he’s delightfully surprised when he takes a sip of the fruity concoction.

“What brings you to Indy?” Steve questions with a tilt of his head.

“Uhh,” he rubs the back of his head nervously. “Honestly, Nance dragged me out here to try to meet some guys. Hawkins isn’t exactly the best place to meet other gay men, y’know?”

“Oh I definitely know,” Steve nods and Eddie feels a weight lift off his chest at the response. “Part of the reason Rob and I moved out here was to be apart of a better community. Although it was hard to leave the kids, Joyce, hop… you.”

“Me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and he jolts back a bit as if he’s been electrocuted. “We weren’t… I mean, we were never close…”

“Yeah but I still had a big stupid crush on you,” Steve admits out loud, so causally that Eddie thinks he must have misheard him until he looks up and sees the nervous look on Steve's face as he awaits some sort of response.

“I… you had a crush on me?” He points between them for emphasis as he speaks.

“Mhm, a giant one. You were kinda my bi-awakening dude,” Steve laughs nervously, hiding his blush behind his drink.

Eddie short circuits.

He can’t believe what he’s hearing but Steve sounds so genuine he has no choice but to believe every word he says.

Had he been blind? Were there signs of Steve’s feelings that he hadn’t noticed? He thinks back to the late summer barbecues in the Hoppers back yard, how Steve always seemed to sit next to him at the picnic tables even when there were other places to sit. How Steve was always quick to offer up his house for the D&D campaigns when he didn’t have to, how he’d driven him back and forth to work for a week straight in 1987 when his van broke down even though the two of them had never spent time alone before that.

He always assumed the little things steve did was because of the kids, because of Dustin. That he was trying to be kind to Eddie because the party cared about them both and he wanted harmony within the group.

Looking back he feels like an idiot.

“Well, between you and me,” Eddie leans in close and Steve leans into it. “You were my gay awakening back in like, middle school man.���

“Middle school?” Steve pulls away with wide eyes.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, finishing off the rest of his drink to get some liquid courage before continuing. “Eight grade, swim team,” Eddie whistles, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s just say I had no interest in swimming.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

“So why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Are you kidding? I don’t think eighth-grade Harrington would have taken well to the freak having a crush on him.”

Steve winces and Eddie immediately regrets what he said, albeit it is the truth.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nods slowly. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole back then.”

“You were a kid,” Eddie shrugs. “Clearly you’ve changed. I should have noticed that you were different all those years ago… before you moved away.” But I didn’t want to, he wants to add but doesn’t dare say it aloud.

“Still-“

“Ah ah! Nope, it’s in the past,” he cuts him off before Steve has the chance to spiral. “But now that we’re here, I’d like to get to know the real you more,” he hope he doesn’t sound too forward or worse, desperate.

“I’d like to get the real you as well,” Steve blushes back and Eddie feels as though he might combust. “Why don’t we get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie replies, looking down at his lap to hide the heat raising in his own cheeks.

Steve extends his hand to help Eddie down from the tall stool and they make their way out of the bar, giggling and leaning into each other's space, hopeful and excited.

[hypostatic-oath]

OVERSEER BRAINROT

(This is like. Me rambling. This is poorly explained and my grasp on the canon lore is iffy but this is just how I imagine/will write the Overseer - aka the player - in SAGAU. This perspective will likely change as I understand more of the lore, but for now, here's some crumbs.)

Overseer whose role is, more than simply observing, to keep the canon going.

Experiencing the story, and that includes collecting characters and learning of their lore, exploring the world, building our teapot, etc is our reward for playing our role - and our role is to push the story forward. It doesn't progress without us. We're not Teyvat's creator, but we are the one making each of our worlds move (we're the mover we're the shaker we're the headline maker). If we did not take action, the twins never would've been separated - they would've stayed forever in that choosing screen, held permanently in that moment. If we had not chosen to walk forward and touch the statue, the Traveler would never have gotten the Anemo elemental powers. Would've never helped Dvalin. Signora would've never taken Venti's gnosis. Rex Lapis would never have "died". Every single other major event wouldn't happen.

The player is the being that makes the Canon Events happen - not directly, but through making sure that the story progresses. (Miguel O'Hara theme plays in the background.) And this can happen at whichever speed we decide.

Now, while the fact that we are the ones making the story go by could be used to argue that the Overseer would be the one to make the passage of time, that is not quite true. The days in Teyvat do not depend on the story progression. Months can pass before those two Fatui in Mondstadt (I love them) have any new gossip to share about current events, or they can pass through five new topics in a span of days, depending on how fast the player runs through the quests. Time is not the deciding factor in these characters' fates. It doesn't matter how long it's been since Signora died - Viktor (the Fatui guy at the Cathedral) will not be stationed at his new post unless the player finishes his comission. Teppei's condition won't worsen with time, either. If we don't continue the quest, we can stand next to him for weeks in game before he passes. Thus, I propose that the Overseer is more of a god of Fate (not to mention, the god of time position is taken). To add to this, the things we use to pull for characters are called Fates. Intertwined Fates, Acquaint Fates, both circle back to the same idea. Hangouts can be seen as a sort of exploration of this power - with the ability to choose one of five or six fates for that character (if only Character Quests had that too). It is, however, one of the few times we have control over which version of the story is told. Otherwise, we are mostly the energy that moves it along.

It's not just that it's a canon event and we cannot interfere - it's that it is literally our purpose to make sure it happens, even if we don't like it. We're here to witness and progress the story - and bad things can happen in stories, regardless of what the characters in it want. So right now I am having some Villain Overseer brainrot, not because they want to be evil on purpose, but because some character decides to pull a Miles Morales and say "I'mma do my own thing" and mess up the story's flow. For someone trying to change the course of the story, the force that pushes events forward is obviously Not Good. I can see Fontaine characters seeing the Traveler's arrival as an ill omen, a sign that the prophecy will come true. They're divided, because on one hand, the Traveler has a good reputation, someone helpful, kind, a hero. But the Overseer's attention signifies that events will inevitably unfold. So Lyney invites them to be part of a show. Furina threatens to arrest the Traveler. Navia asks them out for tea. As long as they can keep the Overseer's attention on other matters, the event they dread won't happen. (I won't talk much abt Neuvillette rn becayse spoilers)

Enter eventual Arlechinno boss fight (it hasn't happened yet, but I do hope we get one) - she's the one who tries to fight the Traveler head on, to personally put a stop to it once and for all. Perhaps the Overseer has no ill will, but that doesn't matter. Not when their presence means that the clock is ticking faster and faster every day.

Now for a more lighthearted thought, Isekai'd Overseer who doesn't really have a concept of urgency. No important event will occur without them present, so they have no qualms in arriving on the day after the scheduled date, confident that as long as it is between 18:00 - 23:00 the reservation will still be placed and people will be at their seats as if it was always meant to be that way.

So the Overseer walks into a bar, with a face too fresh for someone who hasn't slept in what the people of Teyvat percieve to have been months, just coming in from the Spiral Abyss, and asks the bartender where their friends are.

"I don't know? Master Kaeya usually shows up at this hour, but the rest of your usual group is probably tending to their affairs."

"Odd. They were supposed to be here by now. We had a big dinner planned." The person in front of him, who Charles is more and more sure definitely looks somewhat off in a way he can't quite pinpoint, seems confused. "There was a reservation and everything. In Kaeya's name, I believe."

"Well, I'm sorry, but the last reservation Master Kaeya placed here was a month ago."

"Again, weird. He said he was going to place one. Oh, well. When the others get here, just let them know I'll be on one of the big tables upstairs, alright? And you can put everything on my tab."

[yanderes-galore]

Enki Ankarian (Fear and Hunger) with a priest reader Romantic/Platonic 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

I haven't actually written for Enki yet, so here's my attempt :)

Yandere! Enki Ankarian with Dark Priest! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Religious themes, Dark themes, Manipulation, Protective/Possessive behavior, Necromancy, Blood, Death, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Enki is a soul who craves knowledge.

The reason he came to the dungeons was to learn due to his nature as a Dark Priest and someone with the Enlightened Soul.

Enki's antisocial and probably didn't even speak with his fellow priests often unless it was to learn or perform rituals.

He's frail yet rude and closed-off compared to the rest of the main cast.

He's confident in his skills, that being magic and intelligence.

As a result, when you meet him he may seem arrogant to the average person.

Enki didn't expect to meet anyone in the dungeons except for Le'Garde.

Yet when he's drawn to one of the libraries in the dungeons to investigate the ritual circle there and learn more from the books... he meets you.

Enki doesn't get close to people.

He keeps relationships with others, especially in these dungeons, as partnerships to benefit from.

It's never usually personal.

Enki pauses when he sees a fellow priest in front of him.

He's indifferent at first until he sees you seated by the ritual circle while reading a book.

You were most likely reading about certain rituals to call upon the gods for power or insight in these dungeons.

Not wanting to be a threat, and possible wanting to learn from you, Enki greets you.

At first the interaction is tense.

You look at him like you aren't sure if he exists.

Yet soon you snap out of it and ask about him.

"Oh, yet another priest tempted by forbidden knowledge, I see? How intriguing... care to join me? That is... unless you're foe more than friend."

After your original tense attitude between each other... you two soon become rather amiable in the library.

Enki is hesitant as he's learning everything's dangerous in this place.

But soon he sees you as not a threat in this place.

In fact, you're another way he can get closer to enlightenment with all your knowledge.

Enki would get along with you as a fellow priest for the most part due to your shared desire to learn more.

His first few encounters with you are... mixed.

He loves combing through books of spells and gods with you.

Limitless power... limitless magic... limitless knowledge.

He likes your shared goals yet is still closed-off enough to not consider you anything more than an acquaintance.

Enki's obsession speed is probably the slowest out of the main characters.

He takes a long time before considering you close to him, even if you are a fellow priest.

He just... isn't used to such connections.

He's used to going against morality, he's used to taboo.

He prioritizes necromancy and blood magic... Which makes me think, out of all the main cast, he could do horrendous things to get what he wants.

If he felt obsessed with you, which he eventually will be, there's probably nothing he wouldn't do.

You being a fellow priest seeking knowledge may actually speed up his obsession speed more than anything else.

He finds himself seeking you out in the dungeons to see what you've learned.

It's transactional, often giving each other gifts to help one another out.

Yet... Enki finds himself enjoying your presence more than he thought.

Usually with others he finds speaking to them... irritating.

Although, your conversations with one another have often involved sharing knowledge.

So that's most likely why he enjoys your presence.

He likes your presence enough to invite you deeper into the dungeons, searching for answers and knowledge together.

By the end of your shared journey... he may not even let you part from him.

He's frail yet together you two can handle yourselves with destruction and restoration spells.

Enki feels... flattered when you offer him scrolls or books to peak at.

He was originally going to learn more alone...

But now he can't help but feel anxious when you're not in sight.

Subconsciously he finds himself... protective of you.

He isn't quite sure why... but perhaps he does resent the idea of you getting hurt.

Although, if anything really did happen... who's to say he doesn't just bring you back with a ritual and incantation.

Such a thing definitely would come into play later.

He's so determined to reach enlightenment that he can't see your... hesitation.

You're on edge due to the sights you've seen, the spells you cast taxing on the mind.

In fact, it wouldn't be surprising if Enki's obsession started getting worse due to low mind.

The more spells Enki casts, the more deranged he gets due to the nature of it.

Enki's used to it, knowledge comes with a cost.

Yet as he loses his mind, he finds himself clinging to you.

He keeps you close and whispers about how you're both so close.

Soon... you both can learn all there is to offer in this world.

As you go deeper, you feel more on edge.

You knew the risks, you already knew going this deep comes with a cost...

But Enki keeps getting worse.

He keeps dragging you along, refusing to let you leave.

You can't leave... you can't leave him...

Not when you're so close.

Despite your protests, Enki's too focused on your supposedly shared goal.

When you begin to fight him, to reason...

Enki stops you.

You're both so close.

Don't you want to reach enlightenment with him?

Don't you wish to sit on the throne?

To enter the void?

When you continue to fight, to show that you'd rather leave the dungeons than stay with him...

You two fight... with the last of your health and mind...

Only for Enki to strike you down, a similar action he's done before with another one he's loved.

Personal connections... how troublesome.

He doesn't even care if he's insane at this point.

Yet he definitely loses the last of his mind when he sees you dead before him, blood trickling from your wounds and onto the cold ground.

Without too much more thinking, this would be when he makes you a ghoul.

The unfortunate part is you lose your mind... he really wishes he could avoid this...

But he's already too attached to care.

Ghoul or not, Enki's determined to keep you with him when he reaches enlightenment.

You're the only one he's allowed this close to his heart...

Perhaps there's a reason he isn't close to many as a dark priest....

[risilence]

Angell's Dilemma

I literally can't get over how this big bad assassin can get anxious over Chief ʕ ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥`ʔ My heart has not been able to get over it and it breaks my heart how much I want to see more of Angell but can't ʕ༄ຶД༄ຶʔ

So to appease my sadden heart here is a teaser for my latest Angell x Female Chief!

Angell's Dilemma!

This had been Angell’s fourth time turning over within the hour and she was no closer to sleep than when she first laid. Facing the wall, Angell stared blankly whilst her thoughts ran rapt in an attempt to rationalize the last bit of interaction with the dark web hacker. Though the chat log was long gone, Angell couldn’t understand the point of the bitter sign off.

???: You know she will never choose to stay with you.

Tilting her head deeper into her pillow and failing to ignore the hacker’s bitter outburst, Angell rolled onto her back. She should have been used to it by now. These sorts of treatments hadn’t been anything new to her ever since she’d announce her relationship with Chief publicly. The MBCC director, having warned her ahead of time of her rather intense admirers, had done her best to control the outrage and still failed. But Angell didn’t mind it, she was far too content with obtaining a new lover than to focus on the hate train directed towards her.

She just never imagined one of Chief’s devotees would be her associate who often provided her aid within the murky waters of the dark web.

This would definitely influence how they did business in the future; Angell folded her hands over her stomach. She had no regrets, but it was still worrisome to imagine the potential threats this relationship opened up. It was one thing to be worried about gangsters or killers after Chief’s head and it was another to think she’d become a target of friendly fire because of it.

“They won’t hurt you,” Chief had tried to comfort her once when some sinners had tried to shoulder checked her, while she was in the midst of visiting Chief. She had sensed their intent ahead of their attack and moved out of their way causing them to glare, “They normally get over it within a month.”

Angell sighed over the fact that it had already been two months and the harassment only seemed to expand within her own circle of cliental and acquaintance. As if taking advantage of her growing doubts, her mind bestowed upon her a painful intrusion: Has Chief dated other sinners before?

[xoxo-iska]

Oikawa: an alien enthusiast/conspiracist that absolutely cannot bear to watch the Alien movie franchise

i recently watched Alien: Romulus and although it was a good movie, I’d forgotten how gross the sci-fi horror aspect can be so take these headcanons/scenario of reader & oikawa in the getting to know each other phase of dating, going to see the movie

—

You’ve gone on a few dates with Oikawa, and through some of your conversations you became acquainted with his interest in aliens

He sometimes brings up alien documentaries he’s watched recently and while you’re not completely sold on his theories, you love hearing him talk about it, enraptured in how enthusiastic he is about something aside from volleyball

So it completely went over your head that perhaps there were aspects about aliens that he didn’t like

You assumed that as an alien lover, he’d love the Alien movie series as well

Wrong

Unfortunately, despite all his talk and knowledge about aliens, Oikawa hates the Alien series - it makes him squeamish

All the body horror is just too much for him

He has watched some of the earlier movies with Iwaizumi, who had dragged him along, but could never finish them

It either ended up with Oikawa abandoning the movie altogether and fleeing the cinema, or Iwaizumi holding him by the hem of his shirt to sit the hell down and finish the goddamn movie they paid tickets for

But he just likes you so much that when you surprised him with movie tickets for the newest installment of the franchise, he goes along with it and tries to hype himself up, determined to show you his cool side

Completely ignoring the fact that a little part of him just died inside

And so, the day of your movie date comes and the first part of your date goes reasonably well

He gallantly buys the two of you a bucket of your preferred flavor of popcorn, and when he confirms with the ticket guy that you have two tickets to Alien: Romulus, his voice only falters once!

He tries to put up a brave front, and informs you that if you’re scared, you can hold his hand.

When the movie starts, he figures from the admittedly slow beginning and exposition that perhaps the movie isn’t that bad - maybe they toned it down for this latest release

Oh how he wished he was right

He ends up screaming his lungs out, utterly horrified and white as a sheet at what he witnesses on screen

You face him as fully as you can in your seat, concerned. “Are you alright, Oikawa? Do you maybe want to step out-“

“It-it’s fine!” He stammers out, despite his sweaty, clammy hand holding yours in terror hinting at the fact that he most definitely wants to bolt. “I want to stay here with you!”

Because past his terror he can tell that you’re actually enjoying the movie.

And he’s determined to toughen it out for you

Which he impressively does

By burying his face in your shoulder for the remainder of the movie, whimpering in fear during the times he elects to open his eyes and see if he can handle what’s on the screen

Just his luck that when he decides to look that there’s something gruesome ongoing which makes him want to retch, but he holds himself back

In response, you grasp his hand tighter and use your other to slowly guide his head back to your shoulder, lightly petting his hair to help him calm down

If he wasn’t so frazzled from the movie, he could’ve probably been really enjoying the experience

When the final scene fades and the movie credits play, you coax him out of your hold and lead him out of the theater

As soon as you’re out you apologize profusely, and are confused to see him doing the same

“I probably should’ve told you that for all my interest in aliens, I could never get into the movie frachise.” Oikawa says, chuckling nervously. “I suppose this means you wouldn’t want to go on another movie date…”

You grasp his hand and he looks up at you with doubt in his eyes

You soothingly rub circles into his palm. “Or,” you start with a reproachful tone, “You can be the one to choose the movie for us next time.”

Oikawa immediately perks up and for the first time on your date he starts to crack a smile

“Alright. I’d love that.”

“I’ll even let you hold my hand again!” You say, a mischievous smile creeping onto your face. “Even if it is kinda sweaty.”

His jaw drops at your jest, and you take the opportunity to skip ahead, unable to keep your laughter from bubbling over.

Oikawa whines your name as he chases after you. “I’m sorryyy!!” He wails. “I’ll make it up to you next time.”

[chambersandfogg]

October 2nd, 1923

I’m not entirely certain I like this decade. Granted, we are only three years into it, but if it continues on in the manner it’s been progressing so far, I think it will become one of my least favorite decades. Nothing can truly win out over the terror that was the teens, but I think I far preferred the nineties to now.

I suppose that’s a privilege that comes with my…nature? Predicament? Blessing? Curse? I’m still unsure how to feel about my everlasting life. But having a defined ranking of favorite decades seems a good a use of my unique perspective as any.

All to say, the twenties so far are much too boisterous and loud for my taste. It feels I’m invited to some party or new club every weekend. It’s jarring how much frivolity has overtaken the city and every social circle I’ve become acquainted with in the past few years. This is never quite as obvious as John Fogg’s summer solstice party, which I’ve attended the last two years. It is always nice to see him, I suppose, but I don’t much care for the crowd he runs with.

To be honest, I don’t know how he stands it either. Just last year, the man had some kind of fit when his guests broke an entire tray of champagne coupes. I’ve seen it before in men who have experienced combat: shell shock. John seemed disinclined to discuss it in the following days and then this summer, the party was similarly loud and destructive and he seemed perfectly fine. But it makes my stomach turn—the excess, the thoughtless joy. It isn’t that I resent seeing people amuse themselves, but it seems to be at the expense of remembering what brought us all here. Then again, perhaps it is only me who refuses to forget. Perhaps they’re right to grab happiness however and whenever they can, knowing how fragile it is. But every time I have just a tad too much to drink, I see the faces of the men who died by my poisonous innovations, I see John’s pale, wide-eyed face in his quiet library, a raucous gathering happening just outside the room. I far prefer the quieter days spent at his estate in the days following the solstice, when the two of us can converse openly about our strange lives and enjoy the comfortable companionship that is inherent in sharing a space with someone you know so well.

John has invited me to another fête—a Halloween party of all things. I don’t have plans to go, but I still need to send him my regrets. In fact, I’ll likely be sending him more than that—I know I should share the news that I’m leaving New York. Perhaps I can give him my address in London, but I don’t think I’m going to stay there very long either. For the first time in my life, I’m feeling a real traveler’s bug. I feel cooped up here in the States and if we’re all throwing responsibility and common sense out the window, I may as well do some of that myself and travel the world. It won’t be the quiet company of a friend, but it won’t be the loud and tinny noise of America either. I think it’s time for me to experience something entirely new.

[from the personal diary of C. X. Chambers]

[to read the pre-1917 entries, join Atypical Artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes of Atypical's whole catalogue. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]

[mercillery]

The Damnatio one was EVERYTHING oh my gosh I am so happy you took my request it's a drought for him ngl!! If you're down, could you write some headcanons for him with a super excitable social and friendly partner? And kinda how others would view them? I don't wanna overwhelm you with requests though so if you do it don't worry about how much or little you write I just love your writing so much for him and would love to see more!!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: AAAAAA thank you so much anon <333 Don’t worry about overwhelming me, I usually have little to no requests lol. This one was a little short, but I hope it’s still to your liking as well 🙂‍↕️❤️

Absolutely no one had a clue that you and Damnatio were dating until your extroverted self decided to make the announcement. Your circle of friends and acquaintances were used to your lively, open nature, but the news left them in utter disbelief and maybe even horror. The idea of the stern, stoic Damnatio being in a relationship with someone as sunny and sociable as you was definitely not a believable one. Initially, most people thought you were joking or perhaps suffering from an intense crush that led you to concoct this wild story. They couldn’t wrap their heads around the contrast between your vibrant personality and Damnatio’s composed and intimidating demeanor. The mere suggestion of you two as a couple was met with scoffs and dismissive chuckles, thinking you just had a big fat crush on him. I assume that one day, the gossip and skepticism reached a peak one day when someone, out of sheer curiosity and a hint of disbelief, decided to approach Damnatio directly. With a mix of nervousness and curiosity, they asked him if he was actually dating you or not. To which Damnatio confirms he was in fact dating you.

Everyone in the room right now: 😮😯😦😧🫢

From that day on, you and Damnatio became the center of numerous conversations, much to his growing annoyance. It seemed like every social gathering and workplace chat had turned into a speculation fest about your relationship. Damnatio, who cherished his privacy, found the sudden attention and intrusive questions particularly irritating. He couldn’t fathom why everyone was making such a fuss over his personal life or why they felt entitled to pry into it. With that being said, the constant barrage of dramatic reactions and endless questions starts getting on his nerves—but he manages to keep it together. People approached him with an almost morbid curiosity, asking about every little detail of your relationship. It wasn’t just the questions themselves, but the persistent and invasive nature of them, that grated on his nerves. When he finally saw you again, his first concern was for your well-being. He first asks if people have been pestering you with questions, genuinely concerned about how you are handling the situation. As you sheepishly admitted that you were the one who had made the announcement, he couldn’t help but inwardly facepalm. He had suspected you as much, given your open and expressive nature. But he wasn’t angry with you or anything—just fed up with the sudden spotlight on him and you. Honestly, even if your actions sometimes leave him wondering how he would ever keep up with you, he knew he wouldn’t trade you for anything. <3

But anyway, onto the more general stuff in the relationship...

Whenever you and Damnatio take a stroll outside, your lively nature inevitably leads to spontaneous conversations with friends you bump into along the way. Each time, Damnatio stands there in silent exasperation, a stark contrast to your animated chatter. It's almost comical how he just stands there, awkward and out of place, like someone who’s been dragged into a social situation they’d rather avoid. Have you ever been friends with someone who is popular or just exceptionally talkative, and you find yourself tagging along? Then, suddenly, they strike up a conversation with someone else, leaving you to awkwardly stand by because you don’t know the other person? That’s precisely how Damnatio feels during these encounters. He stands quietly, not knowing the people you're chatting with—yet he endures it with resigned patience. Despite the slight awkwardness and his internal sighs of exasperation, he isn’t truly annoyed. It’s more of a mild exhaustion from trying to keep pace with your boundless energy and sociability. As you talk to your friend, completely oblivious to Damnatio’s predicament, your friend can’t help but notice the way Damnatio looks at you. Though his expression remains neutral, there's a softness in his eyes as he watches you—a look that speaks volumes. He listens intently to your every word, and his love for you is evident in the way he focuses on you, even in the midst of these impromptu social interactions. Your friend sees the subtle signs: the way Damnatio's eyes never leave you, the slight relaxation in his posture when he’s by your side—it’s truly an endearing sight—not that they’d ever call Damnatio out like that though.

Honestly? Damnatio might just be learning a thing or two from your happy-go-lucky nature. Your approachability, liveliness, and friendliness are traits he’s come to admire and, perhaps subconsciously, emulate when you’re around. While he’s naturally more reserved and stoic, he makes a conscious effort to be just a tiny bit less indifferent and more engaging in his interactions, at least when you’re by his side. It’s a subtle change, but it’s there. When he’s with you, he finds himself slightly softening, allowing your warmth to influence his usually composed demeanor. It's not that he transforms completely, but your presence gives him the courage to step just a little outside his comfort zone. The truth is, it’s only when you’re around that he genuinely feels a bit more relaxed and at ease. Your ability to effortlessly connect with others is something he deeply respects and tries to incorporate into his own behavior, even if it’s in small ways.

During dates, it's common for you to eagerly pick out where you'd like to go before Damnatio even gets a chance to suggest a place. These moments don't turn into arguments but rather small mini-debates that have become a ritual between you two. It's almost predictable how these debates unfold: despite your enthusiasm and creative suggestions, you often end up losing and going where he wants to go. After all, with his extensive experience in various courts and his participation in countless debates and arguments, he's hard to beat. However, the places Damnatio chooses are always worth the compromise. He prefers quiet, intimate spots with little to no people around, where the two of you can enjoy each other's company without any distractions. These serene settings, whether they are quiet cafes or hidden gardens, become the perfect backdrop for your dates. The peace and privacy allow for deeper conversations and a stronger connection, making every moment spent together feel special. Though, if I’m being completely honest, he often selects elegant, fancy restaurants for dates and reserves one of the tables outside. Under the serene light of the moon, with the night sky as your backdrop, these dinners become enchanting experiences. Despite his preference for planning, Damnatio always makes sure you get your turn in choosing the location as well. After he decides on a spot, he lets you pick the next one. This way, your dates become a balanced blend of his calm, secluded choices and your vibrant, lively ones.

Now, when it’s your turn to choose the location, things get pretty chaotic. In a good way. Maybe not so much in a good way for Damnatio, but he doesn’t have the heart to turn you down. Besides, it's your turn to pick, and he’s willing to give anything a shot if it means making you happy. This often means heading to places teeming with people and buzzing with energy, like carnivals, amusement parks, beaches, arcades, museums, and so much more. Your lively and energetic nature often leads you to choose the most exhilarating spots, and you have a particular fondness for roller coasters. Can you imagine it? Can you picture Damnatio, the epitome of stern and collected, navigating the chaos of an amusement park with you, his stoic expression unyielding even as he’s dragged from one thrill ride to the next? By the end of the day, he’s thoroughly exhausted from the countless roller coasters, the dizzying spins of the teacup rides, and the sugary overload of cotton candy you kept insisting he try. Which he did. But only because you may or may not have shoved it down his throat. Throughout these adventures, he likely keeps a straight face, his eyes only widening in surprise when the rides get particularly intense. It’s almost amusing how he maintains his calm demeanor amid the excitement and chaos you thrive in. He might be silently counting down the hours until the day ends, but he never complains. Your joy and enthusiasm are infectious, and he can’t help but be swept along in your wake. On the way home, despite being utterly drained, he glances over at you, your big smile radiating satisfaction from the day’s activities. That bright, contagious smile of yours makes everything worth it. Even though he’s tired, he knows it was all worthwhile to see you so happy. The outings might’ve left him hella drained, but they also left him with cherished memories and a deeper appreciation for the contrast you bring to his world.

So even if it means enduring a bit of chaos and exhaustion, Damnatio knows it’s a small price to pay for the happiness and love you bring into his life. ❤️❤️❤️

If you’re wondering how the tea cup rides look, they look like this: 

I was giggling for a good few minutes imagining him on a teacup ride lolol😭