#it's 4am my time as I write these tags so I'm not sure if I'm even making any sense please excuse my bleary tear-dried eyes and broken heart

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Can I request for hotches wife having a asthma attack in 4am middle of the night and she woke aaron up

Warnings: Asthma attack, fluff, poor writing💀 and I think that's it :)

Word count: 462

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader

A/n: Definitely! I'll try my best on this as it's not something I really have any personal experience with but I did a little research so I had a better understanding. I hope this is okay, it was a little rushed so I apologise if it's not very good. It's not my best work and it's short but I hope you enjoy<3. This was not proofread so there might be a couple mistakes.

Forever Tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle

You were having trouble breathing. A familiar feeling. But one that was not welcome. Your husband sleeping next to you with soft snores leaving his lips was completely unaware of your current situation. You wanted his help but you hated waking him up.

You were coughing and wheezing as you reached for your inhaler that normally sat on your bedside table at night but you couldn't find it no matter how much you felt around. That only made matters worse now. Another fit of coughs came on and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart?" You heard Aaron's voice. It was tired and sleepy. You looked over at him and he heard you wheeze and struggle to breathe. "Honey is it your asthma?" You nod as you cough again. "Do you need your inhaler?" You nod again "It's not there." He understands. He knows where you keep it.

Standing up he turns the light on and walks over to your side of the bed. It takes him a few seconds but he quickly finds it on the floor in front of your side table and grabs it, handing it to you. It must have been knocked off at some point in your sleep. You take it from him and he sits on the edge of the bed with one hand rubbing your arm telling you it'll be okay as he tries to calm you as best as he can. It's far from the first time he's seen this happen. It's happened a number of times and every time it worries him but he always stays calm for you.

After you're able to breathe better he gets in bed next to you again and holds you. "How do you feel?" You can hear the concern in his voice. "I'm feeling better." You sigh and lean into him as he rubs your back. He always does whatever he can for you. He just wants you to be okay. "Are you sure?" He asks as he kisses your forehead. He always needs to be sure. And if you're sure, then he is too. It's something he takes your word for because you have more experience with what's happening to you than he does. And he trusts that if you're not okay that you'll tell him so he can get you the help you need.

You nod again and he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Aaron." He shakes his head a little. "You don't need to thank me, Honey. I'll always help however I can. I love you." You know this but you still thank him every time. You smile slightly. "I love you too." He places another kiss on your forehead and holds you close until you fall asleep again.

[butchdiaz]

ok its 4am on saturday but i was just possessed by a demon who forced a fic idea into the crevices of my brain and made me start writing before i could sleep so in the true spirit of fuck it, here's my fuck it friday ! thank u for the tags <3 @eddiebabygirldiaz @jeeyuns @try-set-me-on-fire

(again, its 4am and this is straight from my notes app. if there are mistakes, well, fork in the kitchen)

it's been three days since maddie and chimney exchanged their life-altering vows under flourescent hospital lights.

bobby and athena's backyard is lit up with fairy lights and lanterns, littered with wildflower-stuffed mason jars and leftover confetti. buck thought the original wedding venue was beautiful, sure, but it's got nothing on this.

maybe that's because, this time, it's just their little family -- buck's parents already flew home with a half-baked excuse -- and there's no pressure to get it right after getting it so, so wrong. athena helped maddie hem her dress where it got ripped down the middle of the train (much to josh's dismay) so it sits just above her ankles. and buck -- begrudgingly helped by chris -- bedazzled chim's boot with the eclectic selection of rhinestones that were available at the dollar store this morning.

chim's a little unsteady on his feet as he sways with maddie on the dew-soaked spring grass, etta james crooning from a speaker somewhere, but if buck could hear his heartbeat, he knows it would be beating sure and steady, in tandem with maddie's. they both have tears in the eyes and eyes for nobody but each other and buck's heart is just about fit to burst.

it's absolutely perfect.

an hour ago, bobby had pulled him into the bathroom to fix buck's tie and tell him that he was proud of him. fifty-six minutes ago, buck had walked maddie through the glass doors onto the patio while jee waddled ahead, flowers petals spilling in clumps from her tiny hands in an attempt to throw them. maddie had forgone the charade and swooped chimney in for a kiss right away, cradling his neck when she dipped him, just a little, a pink blush flooding his cheeks. tommy didn't come in a helicopter this time, but he still swooped in with that impeccable timing to open the car door for buck, like a goddamn high schooler at prom. an hour and a half ago, he held buck's hand as they entered the house and buck tried not to think too much about how sweaty his palms were getting. twenty one minutes ago, he placed a fresh beer in buck's hands before buck had even realized he'd finished his last one. twenty minutes ago, buck had kissed him on the cheek in thanks, easy as anything, and snaked an arm around his waist. and now? now he's dancing with tommy -- beautiful, sweet, charming tommy -- at his sisters wedding, and it's absolutely fucking perfect.

except buck can't even look at his best friend.

again its not friday anymore + i have no idea who's done this so i'm just gonna tag the besties! consider this a share anything u want/seven sentence sunday/i love u tag!

@usereddie @chronicowboy @shitouttabuck @911onabc @ilostyou @goldenbcnes @exhuastedpigeon @canonbibuck @diazly @evankinard @buckttommy

[illarian-rambling]

@davycoquette with the fun question games again!

Get to Know the Writblr

Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!

On the Tumblr Writing Community:

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.

What led you to create it?

I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)

WIP it Good:

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.

How long have you been working on them?

Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos:

Name any characters you created.

I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!

Izjik Meautammera

Sepo Kaiacynthus

Twenari Undetasib/Devaris

Djek Kagura

Astra DuClaire

Mashal Darezsho

Ivander Montane

Elsind Cavernsight

Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Faalgun Falani

Nyda Burningrock

Kaulakri Ondohuroata

Pashananath

Anarac Fifth-Blood

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!

On Writeblr Engagement:

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.

What makes you decide against following?

Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!

And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3

[littlexscarletxwitch]

i’m not sure if this is where i request. but i’ve been thinking about this for a while. it would be cool if it was a super overprotective girlfriend reader protecting florence from paparazzi. or maybe even reader as her bodyguard or something? totally okay if not. <3 love your writing 😘

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝗺𝘆 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, established relationship, r literally being protective over flo, short blurb, sfw but slightly suggestive

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, not proofread, language, overprotective behavior (but not possessive, more like cute), mention of consuming alcohol

word count: 1.2k

note: This was so fun to write. Thank you for requesting it, anon. I mainly took inspiration from the movie "First Daughter", hope you like it, anon. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

It was 4AM, you felt your eyes starting to close, but you had to remain awake. 

It wasn’t just about her, protecting her, making sure she was alright because you cared about her. But it was also your job after all. It was like that stupid movie, “First Daughter”, where the bodyguard fell for his client. You internally laughed at the memory of Florence showing you that movie. 

You had been working for her only for a month at that time. She would always tease you, flirt with you and be touchy around you. You figured it was just her personality, but once she insisted that the two of you watched that movie, everything became crystal clear. It was her way of telling you: “Hey, you idiot, I really like you.”

At first you tried to resist her, but there was no way of resisting that woman. She knew exactly what to do and say to make you a flustering blushed mess, and then you fell for her. You didn’t realise at the beginning, but you started to behave differently in her presence. You would constantly be looking out for her, more than you already did before, making sure she was always on your sight. You would get this sick feeling on your stomach when she would get all touchy and flirty with other people. You tried to hold your feelings, you weren’t supposed to fall for her, your boss of all people. But you did and she was there to catch.

And now, you were waiting for her to end partying. You smiled at the sight of her, she was having the time of her life, swaying her hips back and forth, a drink in her hands. She noticed you stare at her and smirked. She motioned for you to come, to which you just shook your head. Not only were you working but you didn’t want to interfere with her and her friends. All you wanted to do was home and cuddle her. Still, she insisted. And once you made no attempt to go to her she made her way towards you. 

“Hey,” she said once in front of you. She rested her arms around your neck, caressing your nape. 

“Hey.”

“Why don’t you join us?”

“I’m working,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah, I know. My knight in shining armour,” she mumbled, biting her bottom lips. “But I want to dance with you, have fun with you.”

“And we can do that, just not now, okay? Now, go and have fun, I’ll be right here,” you pecked her lips and gently pushed her forwards. 

She huffed at your words but still decided you were right. So she partied until she couldn’t feel her feet anymore, until her mind was clouded with alcohol and her ears couldn’t take the loud music anymore. 

She, then, once she had enough, clumsily made her way to where you still were waiting for her. You hadn’t moved not even one inch. A glass of what she assumed was water on your hands. As she got closer to you, she noticed you were holding back your smile. 

“What are you laughing at?” she gently smacked your arm. 

“Nothing,” you replied, but she wasn’t buying it. 

“I look like a raccoon, don’t I?” realisation hitting her.

“A really cute raccoon,” you tried to say with your most serious expression, but it faltered once you took another look at her smudged make-up. 

She rolled her eyes at you. “Take me home,” she dramatically said, her arms reaching out for you. 

Through your earpiece you communicated with Florence’s chauffeur, they replied they will be there in three minutes. While waiting for them, you ordered another glass of water so she could sober up a little. Once she was done drinking it, you heard from your ear piece that the chauffeur was right outside. 

Even though it was now 8AM, there was always a chance that paparazzi were waiting outside. You called your partner, who was waiting outside, and waited for him to give you the signal that it was okay for Florence to come out. Once he did that, you nodded to her and the both of you made your way to the exit door. Her arm wrapped around yours, holding you close to her, looking for both comfort and stability. 

As you predicted, paparazzi were waiting outside, but James, your partner, was keeping them at bay. Florence was three steps away from the car when one of them got free of James’ grasp. 

From the corner of your eye you saw the man getting closer to Florence, holding his camera close to his chest, afraid something would happen to it. Your instincts kicked in, you weren’t going to hurt him or something, but you were not going to let him get away with a picture of her. Your team work really hard tonight to keep everything away from the public eye and that shithead wasn’t going to fucked that up. 

You gently pushed Florence inside the car, so she could get inside faster, and quickly made your way towards the man. He was already snapping photographs of her and you didn’t like it one bit. You snatched the camera away from his hands and threw it to the ground. The man’s eyes grew wide as he saw the device breaking into pieces. You quickly grabbed the memory card so he wouldn't have any pictures at all. 

“Sorry for that, mate. Here, for the damages caused,” you handed him 100 bucks. 

“This isn’t enough, that was a $2000 camera.”

“Not my problem, mate. Have a good one,” you said before heading to the car where Florecen was waiting for you. 

“You are unbelievable,” you heard James say before getting in the car, you could hear the smile in his tone.

Florence was feeling sleepy but that didn’t stop her from watching what you did, —what you did for her. She knew that you were just doing your job, but she also knew that you loved taking care of her, in any way you possibly could. 

Once you were inside the car, next to her, she rested her head on your shoulder. 

“My knight in shining armour,” she repeated once again. “I have to admit, that was hot.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed.

“I’m serious. No one has ever looked out for me the way you do.”

“It’s my job, Flo.”

“And there you ruined the moment.”

You grabbed her chin forcing her to look at you. 

“It is my job as your girlfriend to take care of you,” you clarified. Her eyes lit up at your words, a grin forming on her lips. 

You then leaned in connecting your lips to hers, tasting the alcohol in her lips. Moaning once you felt her tongue inside your mouth, your hands tugging at her short hair. But the moment was cut off when you heard someone cough. 

“We are home,” the chauffeur said. You noticed that they were embarrassed having to witness you and Florence. 

“Let's get inside and finish this,” Florence said, getting out of the car and pulling you from your tie. 

“See you tomorrow, Alex,” you quickly said to the driver, before following quickly after Florence. 

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

-M

[grief-worn]

munday: getting to know you ! ! !

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better!

ROLEPLAYER NAME: addi, or sometimes i go by glacier.

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: they/them.

MUSE NAME: on this blog; shadowheart.

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: gay hand-holding and parallel play. alternatively; here on tumblr (asks/dms/etc) or on discord if we're friends/good mutuals!

EXPERIENCE: i think my very first roleplay was on gmail chat, pfft. but i also did stuff on deviantart, IRC chatrooms, forums, skype/discord, and this one roleplay site i will not name because it's genuinely awful. (no it's not f-list). i have pretty limited experience writing on tumblr. just recently got back into it here after having a kinda meh experience in the resident evil fandom.

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: not sure if this means like ... 3rd person? or like ... paragraph length? or what, but i'm open to pretty much anything! i'm super open-minded. i don't even dislike the infamous 1st person writing style, as someone who hungrily consumes reader insert fanfics.

PET PEEVES AND DEAL-BREAKERS: kind of a hard one to answer, but here's what i can think of off the top of my head:

guilt by association: dealt with a bit of this in another fandom. just because i'm writing with someone doesn't mean i'm aware of their issues. curate who you follow and what you see on your dash for sure, i will always understand quietly blocking to maintain your own peace, but i've gotten mixed up in some weird stuff just because i ended up writing with the wrong person.

heavy formatting: this isn't like, that big of a deal-breaker, i just specifically have poor eyesight and difficulty reading/processing words if there's a bunch of different fonts, and font sizes, and colors, and whatnot. definitely might be something i ask people to tone down, but it doesn't really make me mad haha.

soft blocking instead of hard blocking: i'm pretty stupid. please make it obvious if you don't wanna interact anymore! otherwise i won't realize and i'll probably accidentally make it worse orz.

vagueposting/sub-tweeting: that stuff is kinda mean and weird. i don't like seeing it!

PLOTS OR MEMES: either one is awesome, but they both definitely have their contextual uses! sometimes a bit of talking beforehand is nice, sometimes i like just winging it. they're both fun!!

LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES: again, they're both fun. long replies are sort of harder to get to since they take so long to write but sometimes that's exactly what i want; to get lost in a reply for like 2 hours straight. not sure if i have a preference, it's just that short replies are faster and therefore fit better into my daily schedule, but that doesn't mean i don't love dumping my text walls <3

BEST TIME TO WRITE: unfortunately i've found that writing at 4am when everyone is asleep is a WONDERFUL time for my creativity hehe. i wish i could write as good in the daylight hours lol !!!

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE: yes and no. personality wise; not really. we're both kind of goofy deep, deep down. and i project a lot of myself onto her, but i think that's just because her story and trauma resonate with me very strongly! i try not to like, overwrite her character and inject too much of my own stuff. i honestly just have the biggest, fattest crush on her and i need more of her in whatever way i possibly can have. i guess we both love animals. but i'd never have such ugly bangs. ew, shadowheart.

tagged by: @astralrogue (thank you very much!)

tagging: whoever wants to do this :3 it's sharing a lot of ooc info so i don't wanna pressure peeps!!!

[sweetjulyofmine]

Hayy🌸🌸 you’re so beautiful + you&your bf are such a cute couple. Would you mind sharing how you two met? I’m an intrinsically nosy person lol

Hi :3 I am on my laptop so that I can focus on writing an adequate response because I am also an intrinsically nosy person and am almost always hyper curious about relationships I see online or in person (very obsessed with the guy on tiktok who posts videos about people's meet cute stories.) I also love love and have waited forever to feel this way about someone.. My story starts in August 2022, I (living in new york) was about to be in North Carolina to visit my best friend Piper and my boyfriend (colin) was here with his .... then partner now *ex visiting our mutual best friend Natasha (who lives in new york.) Natasha had suggested that Colin and I become mutuals on instagram because we are both fine artists and our work had similar visual cues and we found inspiration from the same photographers. Our paths didn't cross then as I flew down south for some much needed southern summer time and he got a small taste of NY. Even from his vague internet presence, I always had a tiny feeling that lurked (hidden deeeeeep deep inside of me) and told me that he would be the one. A few months go by and I grow secretly fond of Colin and his photographs online (not sure if he felt the same way but I should ask him to write up his version of this story.) In January 2023, Natasha is flying back to her hometown (in the bay area) for our uni winter break and invites me to tag along. This was super exciting to me not only because I had never really been to California (let alone the bay) and I also had an ex there that I was planning on seeing (haha.) I then meet Colin again (who was on his uni break and also visiting his hometown) and in short hangouts begin to develop a small crush on him. I have a hard rule about not falling for someone in a relationship, but I had learned that in his last relationship he was open and while I would never think to try anything, I let myself have hesitant feelings. We went to the SF MOMA during my trip, really only on a platonic excursion, though we both admit now that it felt like a date and our chemistry even back then in those circumstances was most definitely real. The funny part of this story is that after we went to the museum, I had him drop me off at my ex's place (lol.) I fly back to new york with Natasha and from time to time I begin to text Colin. Sometimes it was brief about an artist we had a shared liking for, music we were listening to (he has perfect taste,) or book recommendations. One night we text until 7 am my time (4am his time, he went to uni in portland,) and it was really then that I knew that he had the exact characteristics and soul that I could fall madly in love with. Some more time passes, he's living across the country and still in a long distance open relationship and I'm in another situationship that wasn't developing anywhere. Him and his ex part ways and I am sporadically going on random dates. Speaking of this time of my dating fiascos, I went on a date with someone to a museum upstate and ended up buying a postcard with the intention of sending it to Colin. That begins our real love affair! We start sending snail mail nonstop and I hint to him that I will be back in California, where he would return to after graduating uni that spring. August 2023 I am in LA with my friends and he tells me that he's been thinking about visiting his grandma who lives in southern california. To sweeten the deal I tell him about the book fair that printed matter is hosting in LA, and that if he comes down, we should go together. He (obviously) drives down and the morning of the book fair, he picks me up from my friend's place and we spend the day together. The date actually didn't end for almost 36 hours since he ends up staying the night and we spend the rest of the next day together. Before he drives back up to the bay, we spend one more day together and it was genuinely the happiest I've ever felt. I fly back to New York and he goes on a family trip to Japan and our feelings for each other sort of blossom and we end up writing emails to each other back and forth every day.

[cambria-writes]

i did it. it's finally done. it's over, and i finished it.

thank you so much to everyone who's followed me and this story, who's commented, liked and reblogged. you've all helped give me back something i had lost a long time ago: the ability to write.

i'm so thankful to have found this fandom and the people in it, and i wouldn't change a single thing about the journey that was writing Ravenloft.

some things to know about this chapter:

i only discovered literally two days ago that july 1st is not, in fact, universal moving day. that's apparently something very unique to my part of canada lol, so that's why i had the moving take place that day. might not have even registered for anyone else but me but i felt like i should explain that just in case.

additionally, i don't know fuckall about indiana, never been. the market place arena is no longer there, either, so it took a bit of guesswork to figure out what to do. thank you to @bramblequill for answering my very strange questions. ♥

lastly, i have no idea how school works in the states. i just went with september 2nd as back to school since it was the tuesday right after labour day, and the internet told me that 8:30am as a starting time for classes was reasonable so there we go.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: E, 18+ warnings: SMUT, female anatomy used but otherwise no real physical description, fingering, masturbation (m and f), cum swallowing, so much swearing, Wayne calls Eddie son and reader calls Wayne his father, smoking (cigarettes and weed), alcohol consumption, vague reference to choking, mention of flagging/the hanky code, Eddie doesn't whip out the sadism though, mention of using handcuffs, i guess this is semi-public sex actually, Eddie's a gentleman though, mention of an alternate timeline where Eddie does die, mention of death broadly, reader has anxious responses to shit sometimes, Good Girl is said a few times, god I'm running out of brain RAM please let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 7,512

thank you again!!

Previous Masterlist

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨

July 2nd, 19863:27AM

You don’t know where you are when you first wake up. There are no lights on, there’s a familiar but distant sound, and it’s too fucking warm. After a few seconds of tensely paying attention, you realize that the familiar sound is the compressor in the fridge.

Right. You moved yesterday.

When you bother to open your eyes and look around, you realize why it’s so dark. You never bothered to plug in your alarm clock and you can’t see the time on the stove from here, but it’s definitely still night. Quiet enough that it’s probably not even 4am yet.

You roll to turn around, but promptly end up yelping and falling right on your ass. The vague but bitter thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow developed a habit of falling and injuring yourself in whatever bedroom you occupy.

Said bedroom door cracks open slowly. From your spot on the floor, you get to see a very tired Eddie—is he even actually awake?—slowly emerge from the opening door.

“Fuck was that,” he mutters, right before unhinging his jaw to yawn. You sigh and let yourself fall back on the floor, limp, staring up at a ceiling fan that refuses to work.

“Forgot where I was,” you say quietly, throwing an arm over your eyes. “Go back to bed dude.”

Eddie grunts, but you don’t hear the tell-tale squeaking and creaking of floorboards. Instead, when you move your arm out of the way just enough to see, you catch Eddie scratching the back of his head and looking back to the hallway. He clears his throat, and you cover your eyes again before he catches you staring.

He probably caught you staring way too much yesterday, so you’re not sure why it matters. It’s not like he’d make a big deal out of it anyways—not the way Steve and Robin did when they were helping you carry the sectional couch Mrs Henderson insisted you take from her basement.

(It’s fine, she had said, I can’t really look at that old thing anymore, she said. You didn’t ask, but you’d assumed that it was the same as everyone in Hawkins; just trying to get rid of all the leftovers from The Earthquake and what had preceded it.)

You’re jostled out of your thoughts when you feel Eddie’s shoulder—bare, from the cut-out Black Sabbath shirt he’s warning—against yours. He feels cool and clammy, like he’d been tossing and turning around in the heat, too.

“Ahh,” he sighs, folding his hands over his chest. “You had the right idea. Floor’s cold. Fuck this heat.”

You hum in agreement, and turn your head to properly look at Eddie.

“You could go back home,” you say quietly. When you don’t get an answer after a few seconds, you scoff lightly and turn to stare back at the ceiling. “At least he wouldn’t be boiling alive.”

You nearly squawk when you feel a hand taping on your hip. When you turn to look at Eddie again, his eyes are closed, still, but he’s very clearly frowning.

“Y’r being stupid,” he mutters, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to sit up, leaning back on his hands. He rotates his shoulders and—and he’s saying something else, you know he is. But there’s... there’s something about his shoulders.

Have they always been that wide?

You know your mouth is hanging open when Eddie turns to look back at you, and you only snap it shut with a click when you see him grinning.

“Didn’t catch a word I just said, huh.”

You try to speak a first time, but your voice cracks on the first syllable. Clear your throat and cough once or twice before trying again. This time you get yourself up on your feet and head for the door.

“Not a word. Too tired. Want a beer?”

Eddie blinks at you owlishly for a second before letting himself fall back to the floor. You’re about to take that as a silent refusal when he grumbles.

“Do you even know what time it is? Beer?”

You scoff again and cross your arms from your place at the door.

“What, like you do?”

Eddie simply raises an arm in response. You frown, open your mouth to ask why the fuck he’s raising his hand in your damn house, when you notice the watch still on his wrist.

(You try not to remember a very different, broken watch keeping time for the dead.)

“Right, well,” you dither, clearing your throat again. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Do you want a beer or not?”

Eddie sighs, putting on a show about being put out and disappointed and too tired, but the hand he rests low on your back to herd you out of the room is gentle. The quiet ‘sure’ he whispers also sounds far too caring and indulgent.

You practically inhale half of the first beer you pull from the fridge. If Eddie’s got any thoughts about that, he keeps them to himself. You sit down at the table—square, angular, nothing like the one that was in your hideout—and lean back in a chair that still smells like sawdust and campfire.

Leaning back in his own chair across from you, Eddie takes a slow look around. You see him pause to look at what you’ve already put up on the fridge. There’s a character sheet, a small pebble that’s been glued to a magnet, a note from your parents and a small magnetic photo frame. You can already feel your face heat up when Eddie points at it.

“That wasn’t there when we had pizza,” he says, slowly and a bit incredulously. You can only hold his gaze for a second or two when he turns to you for answers.

“I, uh,” you stutter, biting your lip and picking at the label of the bottle in your hands. “That’s—my mom, uh.”

It’s a polaroid.

By any other metric, completely unremarkable. Unnoticeable, probably, to anyone whose face isn’t actually on the damn thing. And if your mother hadn’t taken you aside yesterday morning to hand you a small, old and beaten-up looking shoebox, you probably wouldn’t ever have remembered that photo exists.

It’s Eddie, surrounded by trees, and wearing a cloak that had definitely been about twelve sizes too big. The hood swallows most of his head; the only thing that’s really visible is his smile. Honestly, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that that’s Eddie Munson, in that photo.

But you remember taking that. Remember flapping the polaroid around madly while running away.

You shake your head against the memory. Those times are long gone, now. So why...

“Yeah,” you end up whispering, before taking a deep breath and letting out a deeper sigh. “I’unno. When my mom gave me an old box of pictures from middle school, I kind of...” You look over at the fridge and take another, albeit significantly more moderate, drag of your beer. “Dunno. Felt like it.”

Eddie slowly stands and walks over to the fridge. Takes a sip of his beer while he looks at the photo. Takes a quick look at you before taking a step back from the fridge to look at what all else you’ve put up there so far.

“You still got that box?” And bless him, you know he’s trying to be nonchalant about it, but there’s an anxious tone undercutting his voice clear as day. You chuckle and make your way back to your room and to your closet.

It’s only when you pull the small shoebox out and you’ve got it cradled in your arms do you realize the significance of this.

Almost everything that was in the trailer was lost; it’s honestly a miracle anything survived at all. But among the losses, you remember Wayne bemoaning the loss of the few pictures that he’d been able to take of Eddie over the years.

You look down at the box a bit more misty-eyed. You hope that there’s something helpful in here. Something nicer.

When you make it back to the living room, Eddie’s still standing in front of the fridge. His brows are pulled together and the sip he takes of his beer nearly dribbles down his chin. You hold the box a bit closer to your stomach when you move to stand next to him.

“What are we looking at?” you ask, and Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. You put a hand on his arm and laugh. “Hey there, have a nice time up in the clouds?”

Eddie laughs a bit thinly, points up at the fridge. “I was just. You kept the—the lyrics. From middle school?”

You stare up at the piece of turns, crumpled up ruled paper. You remember carrying that everywhere with you, in middle school and high school. Carried it in your wallet for a while, too, though...

You turn back to the table to gently put the shoebox down. “I didn’t think you’d remember writing that,” you say quietly, pulling up one small stack of photos neatly held together with a rubber band.

Eddie scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You basically whined at me for weeks to come up with a love song for... what was—”

“Shanon,” you add quickly, blindly reaching for your beer bottle while sorting through photos. “Blonde, grey eyes. You were infatuated.”

You don’t see the sad, self-deprecating grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shanon... yeah, no, didn’t write that for her.”

You take a second to bring the bottle down from your mouth. Turn around to look at Eddie, but he’s still resolutely looking at the paper haphazardly stuck to the fridge. It’s at an angle. It’s starting to drive you crazy. Eddie chugs the rest of his beer, puts the empty bottle on the counter by the fridge, and turns around.

“Woah there pal,” you start, chugging your own beer with a wince. You put the bottle back on the table behind you. “What’s that look for?”

You feel like your heart’s beating a frenzy in your throat. You’re pretty sure you just felt a heart palpitation. The look on Eddie’s face is intense in a way you don’t recognize. Not like when he's DMing and he’s about to throw a real wrench in everyone’s plans, and not like in the Upside Down.

No, it feels a lot like how he looks at you out in the fields by the junkyard.

You would take a step back when Eddie starts walking toward you, but you’re already leaning against the table behind you. You try to straighten up to maybe attempt to look less frazzled than you feel.

The beer’s already making your head feel fuzzy and your lips feel numb.

Eddie stops about a foot away from you, and you’re not sure how to feel about the fact that you have to crane your neck up to actually look at him. He opens his mouth, looking down at your with a frown. He tries a few times like this, before sighing and just.

Letting himself slump over to rest his head on your right shoulder.

You stay like that for a bit. You can hear the hitch in Eddie’s breath when he tries, again, to say something. After the third or fourth time, it feels like something’s squeezing your chest. He’s clearly got something on his chest he wants to get off—something heavy—and you know how that feels. How that goes.

Your left hand comes up to brace the back of his head before you can think of the implications.

Whatever. Fuck the implications.

“You can take your time, y’know,” you whisper, slowly slumping back to lean against the table behind you, forcing Eddie to take a step forward if he wants to stay in his spot.

“I can’t, I really can’t.” His voice sounds strained, and you flounder. You’ve never really had to struggle to get people to talk to you—not the people who actually give a fuck about you, anyways. And you can’t think of a single time, barring the obvious fuckery of the Upside Down, when Eddie was hesitant to talk to you.

He gently grabs the hand in his hair and pulls it away to straight himself out again. His eyes are closed when you can see his face again. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.

“Listen—“

The phone rings.

You haven’t even put it up on the wall by the doorway yet. It’s still on the counter, where you’ve left it, right by the fridge.

The shock of it in the quiet of the dining room makes you trip over yourself. Eddie catches you and, practically in the same motion, spins to direct you to the phone. Out of breath, you pick up.

“Ye—hello?”

“Hey, hon,” comes Wayne’s tired greeting. “Sorry if I woke you up, but is Eddie still with you?”

You blink a few times, staring out into nothing. You only wonder for a second why he’d call so late when you’d likely be out cold, but when you turn to face Eddie—now leaning back against the table—the realization comes all at once.

“Ed—yes, oh my god, Wayne, I’m so sorry,” you rush to say, turning back to the counter and cradling the receiver. “Yeah, he helped me unpack and we kind of crashed, I should have had him call—”

“Hey, hey,” Wayne chuckles, and the lightness of the tone helps you breathe a bit easier. “It’s fine. Sorry I woke ya up.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you reply quickly. “We’ve been up for a bit going through some stuff.”

“I won’t keep you then. Just tell that idiot son of mine to call next time.”

You let out a quiet bark of laughter and promise you will. You don’t think you’ve ever referred to Eddie as his son before. Guess the whole town going to shit changed a few things. Said idiot son has the decency to look a bit ashamed when you turn around and lean back against the counter.

“Probably shoulda called before we called it a night, huh,” Eddie says with a wince.

There’s a beat of silence that’s almost awkward before you clear your throat to speak.

“You uh, you were going to tell me something?”

Eddie stands there, expression not unlike shock on his face. He opens his mouth two or three times but eventually settles on a shrug.

“Don’t worry about it, I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” The end of his sentence almost trails off its so quiet. It’s clearly a lie, but you’re too fuzzy from the beer and fatigue from moving to push the issue any further.

You push yourself off the kitchen counter and brush your hands off on your thighs.

“Well,” you start, feeling a bit awkward while you amble toward the hallway. “I need to go back to bed. Let me know if...” It’s your turn to trail off, because you’re not sure how to end that sentence. Let you know if what, a demodog comes bursting in through the window?

You look anxiously over your shoulder at the window over the sink. It’s fine. It’s nothing, nothing’s there, you’re good. You clear your throat.

“Right, so. I’ll just.”

Eddie nods but doesn’t look at you. Your room is bright with birdsong and the rising sun by the time you fall asleep.

17 July 19861:37AM

You’re not entirely sure what motivated you to get out of bed, climb into your car, and make it to the Munsons’. It’s not like you couldn’t have just grabbed the phone and dialed Eddie’s shiny separate number. (You’re beginning to think the hush money bit was real.) You’ve called each other at the worst times of night and day for dumber shit.

This time, though, the nightmare felt a little too real to ignore and sleep off. Like you usually would have done.

It was like you had never existed; like everyone had gone into the Upside Down without you, without an extraction team, without a backup plan. And you had to watch while Eddie sliced the blanket rope. Horrified, you watched Dustin sprain his ankle in his rush to get back.

Eddie, gasping and choking on his own blood, saying he hadn’t run away this time. Eddie, glassy-eyed and gone, torn to shreds by bats left motionless by what you now know to have been Chief Hopper’s own attack all the way in Russia.

You take a second to control your breathing once you’re at the squat triplex. Eventually you uncurl your stiff and sore fingers from the steering wheel and force yourself out of the car. Your legs feel like jello and your head like lead.

You consider trying to climb up to the third floor, somehow, if only for a second. You know Wayne’s likely to be up so you shouldn’t worry too much about either ringing or knocking but... Shake your head and hit the button for the third floor before you can think more about it and chicken out.

You’re let in surprisingly quickly. When you make it up to door number 3, Wayne’s leaning against the doorway.

“Bit early,” he says, uncrossing his arms once you’re near. Puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “Everything okay?”

“Nightmares,” you answer quietly. You curl and uncurl your fists at your sides.

“Come on,” Wayne says after a beat of silence. “He’s in his room. Coffee?”

You shake your head. With one last squeeze of your shoulder. Wayne wanders back inside, and you aim straight for Eddie’s bedroom door. Your fist is up to knock when Eddie opens the door, looking disheveled but extremely awake.

“Hey,” he says airily, out of breath as he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail. “I was about to head out—you weren’t answering your phone so.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything or explain before pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He throws his jacket—leather only, sans denim, as it has been for a few months now—over the back of the chair as his desk.

Nothing much else is said, which is how these nights usually go. Neither of you need to be rehashing what happened in the Upside Down, the earthquake, your constant passing out. Tonight, though, there is one thing that eats at you. Eddie has to nudge you, sitting next to him on his bed beneath the window, to pass the joint over. When you take it, he makes a point to lean forward to try and get a good look at your face.

“Did... did something happen? Before you got here?” he asks, and the concern in his voice twists your gut unpleasantly.

“It’s just—it’s nightmares. You know how it is.” You make a point not to take too deep of a toke of the joint before passing it back over, turning your head to blow the smoke out through the open window.

You can just barely see Eddie narrowing his eyes at you in your periphery. For a second, when he straightens up and leans back against the wall next to you, you think he’s dropped it.

“If it was just nightmares, you would’ve called.”

You snort and look the other way. Again, though, Eddie nudges you to turn around and take the joint. Carefully and, thankfully, not too quickly, he grabs your wrist as you grab the joint.

“Hey. Come on. Talk to me, please.”

Your eyes burn and you can already feel your nose getting red and itchy. Your whole face feels warm. Either to spare you the embarrassment of it or a second, secret reason, Eddie pulls you into his chest and you just start crying.

You’ve dreamt of people dying before. Tons of times. Even before El tore a massive hole through reality in Hawkins. But that—feeling powerless in a situation you know could’ve happened if you hadn’t just been around and stuck your nose where it arguably shouldn’t have been—and seeing Eddie die in a way you just couldn’t help?

That was brutal.

17 July 19869:12AM

You have no idea when you fell asleep. Your eyes feel sore and dry, your throat feels strange and your neck hurts. You’re cursorily aware that you’re in Eddie’s room—the smell of weed, incense and whatever cologne he wears usually gives it away.

Very quickly, you realize that you’ve fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest at an awkward angle. You’re both barely sitting up, still leaning back against the wall underneath the window. God, you drool on him. Fuck.

Okay, this is fine. You’ve literally had worse.

You take a deep breath and, as smoothly and quickly as you can, roll off the bed and onto your knees. It’s not graceful, but when you look back, Eddie still seems to be sound asleep. You pray to whatever’s out there that he stays that way until his shirt’s dry.

You tiptoe out of the room and turn the knob before shutting the door behind you. The rest of the apartment is empty, and with how late you heard Wayne ambling about, you’re sure he’s not ready to get up any time soon, either.

By the time you leave, there’s breakfast ready to be reheated in the oven and you’ve left a note on the coffee maker saying to just turn it on.

When you walk outside to your car, though the sun’s been up for a while, the fog still clings to the ground. You sit in your car for a few minutes, staring at the water droplets slowly evaporating on the windshield. When your heart rate has gone back down to something human and manageable, you start the car and head home.

13 August 198612:07AM

If you were bubbling with excitement before the concert, now you feel like soda that’s been left out for a few hours. Flat, maybe, but still just as sweet as it was before, if not moreso. You still feel all the enthrallment that you did before and during the concert, but now you feel...

Well, post-concert blues. That satisfied feeling of having witnessed something amazing, but the accompanying sadness and mourning knowing that you’ll never be able to relive this same experience again. It’s come and gone and now all you can do is remember it.

You slap your thighs to bring you out of your own head. This is going to be a good fucking night. Eddie literally bought you tickets to see Judas Priest and drove you both all the way out here. Refused to let you drive for a singular second, too.

“You still that hyped?” Eddie asks, laughing, holding his lighter out to you. You light up your own smoke and laugh.

“Nah, just trying to get my head back in the game. Too much shit rattling around in here.” You tap your head with the lighter before handing it back.  Eddie takes a second before grabbing it, though, and you have to wave your other hand in front of him to snap him out of it.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s out of it,” you laugh, bumping his shoulder with yours when he finally takes the damn lighter back.

Quietly, from inside the van, you can hear the opening bars for Wild Nights.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grunts, crouching down to tie the messy laces of his right shoe. “I’m the one who drove three hours to get here, and had to convince your parents that I wouldn’t murder you and dump your body in the river.”

You can’t help but cackle. You know for a fact that neither of your parents called the Munson household, but you also know that it’s something that they very easily could have done. Looking out at the White river from your little spot at the state park, you open your mouth to say something about how overprotective Wayne can be, but then something catches your eye.

“They literally,” you start, reaching over to pluck the scarf from Eddie’s back pocket. “Did not do that.” You twist the scarf around in your hands a bit before trying to whip it at his ass. You miss horribly and end up snapping the tip of the scarf on his thigh.

You burst out in laughter, full bellied and unrestrained, when Eddie yelps and topples over to the right. You try to apologize and ask if he’s okay, but you doubt that anything intelligible makes it past you wheezing, squeaking laughter.

“Alright, that’s it,” Eddie grumbles, tossing his half-smoke cigarette into the gravel before stalking towards you. He’s clearly not upset, but you make a mad dash for the riverbank anyways.

The toes of your shoes have just barely touched water before Eddie’s arms wrap around your torso and pull you back. You shriek and kick once or twice before letting yourself go limp.

Half an hour later finds you in some park along the 36, hair and clothes still damp and cheeks sore. You’re both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, passing a joint between you and looking out onto the park.

“I like what you’ve done with this old bitch,” you comment, tapping the plush—carpeting? blanket?—that Eddie’s laid down in the back. “Is there a camping mat under this or something?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, been going out in the woods after work sometimes just to like... relax, y’know?” You nod; you ran to the woods a lot as a kid, too. “Right, so I kinda made it more comfy to get high in. That’s it.”

When he passes you the joint, you look back at the front where you’d left the scarf. Handkerchief? You’ve had the question in mind ever since March: is he the S or is he the M?

“Seriously?” Eddie balks. “That’s what’s been on your mind this whole time?”

You turn to look at him and blink owlishly.

“Oh. Oh god, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

Eddie laughs, and it almost sounds a little mean. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck and making its way to your face. Your cheeks itch with it.

“Right, you’re too baked and tired for this,” Eddie declares, and even to your ears he sounds way too composed and, frankly, sober. Though you guess he’s maybe had a bit more time to get used to smoking weed than you have.

“What, no!” You whine, trying to reach across him to snag the joint out of his left hand. Unfortunately, the best that’s done for you is get you splayed across Eddie’s lap once you inevitably lose your balance.  “Fuck you.”

Eddie’s almost unnaturally still beneath you. And you’d look up at him, if you could, but even fucking cooked, you’re very aware that you’re laid across a man’s lap.

Your throat feels too tight when you swallow. You move to brace an arm on Eddie’s thigh to prop yourself up, but his hand on the back of your head has you freezing in place. When the hand starts petting down your head, your neck and your spine, only to start again at the top, you start to go limp. This isn’t so bad.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, and you get the feeling you’ve spoken out loud again. “You would think that.” The embarrassment is enough to make your eyes sting. There’s a beat of silence, and then Eddie leans over to whisper in your ear, “Good girl.”

You swallow thickly. You had intended to follow-up by asking whether or not Eddie was even interested in the opposite gender. But you suppose that answers that.

There’s a tension in your gut and shoulders that makes you second guess yourself. You get the words out before you can think too much about it.

“What do I have to do for you to say that again?”

The hand petting you takes its time reaching the bottom of your spine, and then stays there. Warm against your lower back, and just high enough to say he’s not actually touching your ass. Awfully cordial.

“Depends,” Eddie hums, and you hear him take another toke of the joint before crushing the tip of it between his fingers and chucking the extinguished butt somewhere you can’t see. “Why?”

This time, you do prop yourself up, both hands on Eddie’s thigh. If it had been anyone else, the distance between your faces would have been the epitome of discomfort.

“I want you to say it again,” you answer quietly. It’s getting harder to keep your eyes on his and not let them drift down.

“Say what again?” Eddie asks, and you don’t know if you love or hate the shit eating grin on his face. You should have expected this, though; putting you on the spot was part of the whole point, wasn’t it?

“I-I want you to...” you start, but your throat feels too small for the words that are trying to come out. Eddie’s hand at your lower back comes up to rub comforting circles between your shoulder blades. Your face and neck are on fire and everything feels itchy.

“Come on,” Eddie whispers. You realize that you’ve been staring at his mouth, and when you look, he is very much looking down at your mouth. “Won’t laugh. Promise.”

The sigh that leaves you almost surprises you.

“I-I want you to—I want you to call me a good girl. Again. Please.”

The hand between your shoulders makes its way forward to cup your jaw.

“Good girl,” Eddie breathes, and it’s like your whole body vibrates, shudders with the satisfaction of it. “Fuck,” he chuckles, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re really into that.”

You want to say that you shrugged, but the reality is that the sound that comes out of your mouth couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a whimper.

“Can I—” Eddie starts asking, but you cut him off nearly right away.

“Yes.”

You would think kissing your childhood best friend, whom you’d lost touch with for several years and had recently gone through several traumatic events with, would be somewhat awkward and clumsy. But, unlike when you were teenagers, you and Eddie both, clearly, had the advantage of some gained experience in the meanwhile.

There’s no chastity in the kiss; from the moment his mouth locks with yours, it’s open-mouthed and breathless. Eddie pulls you closer, helps you sit across his lap properly, and you fist your hands in his shirt. In his brand new Judas Priest shirt. You know he doesn’t even particularly like Turbo, as an album. Almost none of it is his preferred style.

You whine into the kiss, and you chase Eddie’s lips when he pulls away. He helps shift you off his lap and quickly instructs you to move back and lie down. The van is plunged into near pitch-black. You move back until you feel what you think is the back of the driver’s seat. You don’t lie back yet, instead reaching out for Eddie.

Your hand knocks into what’s apparently his arm. His mouth finds your again in the dark as your fingers find their way into his hair. You gasp when Eddie roughly pulls you down, firmly gripping your hips one second and cradling your head to make sure you don’t hit it the next.

“You sure this is fine?” Eddie asks, though his lips are moving down to your neck, teeth nipping at the skin.

“It’s fine, this is fine,” you rush to say, letting your hands wander up under Eddie’s shirt. You’re  sure to keep your touch light when you come across the scars. “This is so fucking fine,” you breathe.

Eddie’s shirt rises with your wandering hands, and he gives you a second to pull it over his head. You have no idea where you toss it and you honestly couldn’t care less. His hands, in return, take the opportunity to make their way under your shirt, and you want to scream. Your entire body feels like a coil being wound tighter.

It’s unfamiliar, how intense it is. You don’t think you mind.

Eddie knocks your knees open to settle between your legs rather than straddling you, though you’re more preoccupied by your shirt—identical to Eddie’s, because you couldn’t help yourself—being peeled off and thrown into an equally unknowable direction. His hands on your ribs feel like irons smoothing out the trembling wrinkles of them, and the shuddering sigh that you let out makes Eddie chuckle.

“Poor thing,” he laments, one hand at your waist prompting you to arch your back, the other sliding up your back to somehow expertly undo the clasp of your bra. “Been holding out for a while, huh.”

It’s not a question. You twitch, about to bring your hands up to hide your face, but—there’s no real point, is there? In this kind of darkness, it’s not like he’d be able to see how red your face is. You have a feeling he’d reprimand you for trying to hide, anyways.

“Didn’t think you’d wanna look at me,” you breathe into his mouth. Saying it out loud makes it feel silly, especially here and now. You don’t hold it against him when Eddie laughs. You can hear the shock in it.

“We’re both idiots,” he mutters, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your neck, nipping at the collarbone on the way. He presses his lips to your sternum, hands gliding up your sides to palm at your breasts. Nothing like the fumbling messes of your first adult years; Eddie’s hands are slow and deliberate. He’s not feeling you up for his own sake—though you don’t doubt that it in no small way contributes to the hardening length you feel growing at the junction of your thigh—but for yours. This feels entirely like a massage for your benefit.

To his credit, it’s working. Whatever tension you were holding in your shoulders is slowly melting away under his hands.

His mouth continues its trail down, licking a stripe up your navel before he stops at the button of your shorts. You don’t let him ask, you just unbutton them for him. He doesn’t move until he hears you start to pull at the zipper. He doesn’t leave you time to pull it down all the way before he’s tugging your shorts off like they’ve personally offended him.

The cold air makes you realize he’s taken your underwear with them. He lightly rests his forehead on your stomach and breathes in. It almost makes you choke.

“God you smell good,” he growls against your skin. While his mouth trails kisses back up your torso, you feel one hand sliding gently up your chest to rest at the base of your throat. The other slides two fingers through your slit.

Eddie groans like he’s in pain.

“I won’t—not here, fuck,” Eddie mutters, nuzzling between your breasts, and you buck your hips into his hands when one of his slicked fingers finds your clit. “First time we gotta do it right but this, we can—I can give you this,” he whispers, so low you figure he must be talking to himself more than he is to you.

One finger prods at your entrance, and then he’s got two fingers inside of you. The first few pumps, though heaven, don’t do much. But then Eddie curls his fingers, and it’s like he’s a puppeteer who’s pulled on all of your strings all at once. He exhales sharply and sounds entirely too pleased with himself when he speaks.

“There she is,” he whispers, mouthing at the spot on your neck just below your ear. The warmth  makes you shiver and clamp down on his finger. “Fuck, that’s it.”

Eddie’s hand practically turns into a machine. You don’t think you’ve ever been able to get yourself so close to cumming in less than a minute. The hand at the base of your neck creeps just a little bit higher. When you gasp at the pressure his fingers apply, you have to grab at Eddie’s wrist to keep his hand there.

“You’re perfect,” Eddie sighs, and you can feel more than see him toss his head back. “Fuck, wish I could see your face right now.”

“Next time,” you reply quickly. “Please, fuck, I’m so close, please please please,” you whine, reaching your other hand down to rub at your clit.

“Holy shit that’s so fucking hot,” Eddie groans, and bites down on your neck, just above where his hand collars it nicely.

The sting is what sends you careening over the edge, cumming with a drawn-out moan. Your hips jerk erratically in spite of yourself, chasing Eddie’s fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm. When your arms go limp, you distantly register the sound of his belt coming undone and the distinct sound of him spitting. There’s a slick sound and it doesn’t take long for you to realize that.

That Eddie Munson is jerking off over your naked body.

“Fucking christ,” you whisper, out of breath, and force yourself to sit up.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans, and you blindly reach out for him. He grabs one of your hands on his chest, laces his fingers tightly through yours. Your other hand, however, makes it down to his, wrapped around and pump his cock.

You shimmy back just enough to be able to lean down to lick the tip.

“Jesus f—I’m gonna,” Eddie chokes out. He doesn’t finish his sentence when you bat his hand away and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and suck.

You swallow more of him down as he cums, swallowing around him once or twice before he brushes a hand up your forehead and lightly pushes you back and away. You kiss his navel, instead, then his sternum, until he pulls you up with two hands cupping your face, and makes you kiss him, instead.

You didn’t think you’d be turned on by a guy kissing you after you’ve just swallowed his load, but there are apparently a lot of things you’ve yet to discover about yourself.

Carefully, mouths still touching but not quite kissing, Eddie maneuvers you both so that he can lie down on his back, and you can lay your head on his chest.

You throw a leg over his for good measure.

“I’m not moving anymore,” you groan, burrowing your face into his chest.

“Can’t blame ya,” Eddie says, breathless, and you can’t help but laugh.

There’s a moment of silence, and then both of you start laughing. The bouncing of his chest makes it hard to stop laughing. Your gut hurts, your cheeks hurt, and you are entirely too sweaty. You could not care less.

“So,” Eddie starts, once you’ve both been able to calm down and breathe like normal people again. “You mentioned a next time?”

You hum and close your eyes against the darkness in the back of the van.

“Mm, it did not escape my notice that the handcuffs were something you managed to rescue from the trailer,” you mumble, throwing an arm over Eddie’s chest and squeezing.

“...I don’t think I hate the idea of you in chains, actually.”

September 2nd, 19867:58AM

You’re woken up entirely too early by your phone ringing. You don’t need to look at the time to know it’s too early; if you can’t hear cars driving around yet, it’s too fucking early.

“Mmn, gmorning, what,” you slur, wedging the phone between your chin and shoulder and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” Eddie greets you brightly, and the warmth that bubbles up in your chest at the sound of his voice feels almost euphoric.

“You’re a weapon,” you say fondly, moving from where you’ve finally wall-mounted the phone to the wall by the fridge and making your way to the kitchen counter, which you promptly hop up on. “Wait,” you whisper, leaning forward to look at the calendar you’ve stuck to the fridge. “It’s September 2nd.”

“Mhm, congratulations, you can correctly identify the date.”

You ignore the snark.

You have entirely forgotten to ask Eddie whether or not he’d been made to repeat his senior year—again—despite everything that had happened over spring break. It felt awkward to ask now, though.

“You, uh,” you stutter instead, trying to find the least offensive way to go about finding out. “You’re calling, uh, early. Special occasion?”

“Of course,” Eddie says haughtily, and you can almost imagine the expression on his face. The kind that says ‘I know something you don’t and I know you’re too much of a coward to ask about it’.

“Come on just say it man,” you plead, letting your head fall back and reaching up to keep the receiver in place.

“My lady, I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Fucking dick,” you say under your breath. Take a deep breath, bring your head back up and square your shoulder. “Edward Munson, did they or did they not let you graduate?”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter so loud you have to pull the receiver away from your ear for a second. His tone and demeanor make you want to believe that he’s finally been cut some slack, but...

You manage to get a single sound out before there’s a knock at your door. You hold the phone away from yourself again, narrow your eyes at it like it’s Eddie in your hands instead of the receiver, and put it back to your ear. You cut off whatever he was saying when you speak again.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why there’s someone knocking on my door at,” you pause, turning to look at the time on the stove. “One past eight in the fucking morning?”

“Dunno, sounds important if it’s this early though,” Eddie replies, a bit too easily, and you sigh.

“Whatever, I’m putting the phone down. Don’t hang up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You huff and put the phone down on the counter, making sure it won’t fall off. By the time you make it to your front door, whoever’s there has decided that knocking nonstop is clearly the best way to get your attention.

You honestly should have expected Dustin Henderson at your doorstep at eight in the morning on back to school day. He’s suspiciously got an arm behind his back. You sigh, again, and unlock the deadbolt and undo the latch before opening the door.

“Alright,” you say, one hand on your hip and the other hand held out. “Fork it over.”

“I have no idea—” Dustin starts to say, but the deadpan stare you level at him makes him clear his throat instead. “Right! Here you go.”

“Thank you kindly, now hold up,” you say, holding a finger up and quickly walking over to your fridge to pull a bottle of water out. When you’re halfway back to the door, you call out, “Heads up!” and toss the bottle over.

Dustin barely manages to catch the thing, but doesn’t do so without a comical amount of fumbling.

“Awesome, now that you’ve done your Dungeon Master’s bidding, go the fuck to school, nerd,” you chastise, flicking the bill of Dustin’s cap.

“Man, you’re mean, you know that?”

“Sure, that’s why I’m making sure you’re staying hydrated on that damn bike,” you retort, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Go on now, shoo. Go get an education.”

You wait until you can’t see Dustin down the road anymore before closing and locking the door, and wandering back over to the phone.

“Alright,” you say, wedging the receiver under your chin again and tearing open the envelope you’d been handed. “This better be worth it. I was up until 3am and I’m fucking beat.”

Eddie stays quiet, but you can practically feel the frantic energy of him through the phone. You pull the paper—papers, it’s a whole damn stack of them—and then promptly drop them all on the kitchen floor when you catch the title on the first page.

“Edward,” you start, tone harsh.

“Hey, woah, okay,” Eddie  rushes to start. “Okay, I graduated, right? Like, everyone was let through because of all the bullshit. That’s not really important right now though?”

“Ed,” you start again, lower and calmer. “That thing said ‘Thrasher Records’. I don’t fucking know who they are but there’s fucking record in the name, babe.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. You can hear the face-splitting smile. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper, and you know he can hear the smile splitting your face, too.

You don’t change out of your sleep shorts and Judas Priest shirt. You’re at the Munsons’ in just under five minutes—which, yes, is probably a little bit criminally fast, but it’s not like Hopper’s gonna care—only to find out that Edward fucking Munson hadn’t even told his own damn father.

You give your boyfriend just enough shit for him to want to make up for it.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@bramblequill @storiesbyrhi @averagestudent03 @alovesongtheywrote @doratheignora @fnlyroe

[evilpenguinrika]

The brain bees are making me think about my hosie/final fantasy 14 AU and will not leave me (literally started writing this post at 4am but stopped because it was almost 5am but now I've come to finish this post at an appropriate time in the late afternoon)

Youre free to check out what kind of weird niche AU I've created by going through my "hosie ffxiv au" tag on my blog!

Okay. So I've had a lot to think about in terms of what Jobs Hope, Josie, and their kids would have and despite my very first post saying otherwise, I've come to a new conclusion:

Hope Mikaelson, our favourite Tribrid, would have these Jobs in this exact order:

Dragoon (no Tribrid reasoning tbh. Dragoons are just fucking hot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ although one could argue it would fit her werewolf side)

Red Mage (there IS a Tribrid reasoning for this. Red Mages use magic, so that's a no brainer for Hope's witch side. But apart from magic casting, they also fight with rapiers, and I thought that was a cool little touch. Plus, it reminds me a lot of the blood sword we saw Hope use in the show. Not to mention Red Mage--like Dragoons--have some very fanciful moves that made me think of Hope as well. Very fitting.)

Dark Knight (another with Tribrid reasoning. I haven't actually gotten to Heaven's Ward expansion pack to unlock this Job or its Job Quest so all the information of Dark Knight are from videos I've seen. But the Job is perfect for Hope's vampires side as Dark Knight has this blood guage or something which was so fitting. And the lore behind this Job apparently goes super fucking hard lol. And edgy and broody, which is even more perfect for our resident Tribrid!)

//

For our lovely and favourite brunette siphoner, Josie Saltzman, here are the Jobs she would have in this order:

Black Mage (this felt like a no-brainer Job for her to have. Especially because this class focuses a lot with switching between your Blizzard spells and Fire spells. And we all know Josie is secretly a pyromaniac (lol I jest). So for her, Black Mage is perfect)

Blue Mage (this is another no-brainer and fits in theme with her Siphoner witch abilities. Blue Mages are able to copy the moves they've seen from their enemies, now sure this may not seem very Siphoner themed, but I assure you, it's sort of parallel to it. Siphoners are able to use magic if they siphon/take magic from someone or something magical right? Blue Mage is sort of like that in which they acquire spells of enemy moves to add to their arsenal of magic. So it makes sense in my book)

Honourable mention for Josie before I move on is the Bard Job. I felt like this Job would suit Josie nice because Bards have music stuff and I thought that fit. Though I don't quite remember if Josie being into or dabbling in music was canon or a fan fanon thing. Now, with the next Expansion Dawntrail coming out summer, I have been made aware that there are a few other Jobs that will be included in the pack--new jobs too (Viper being one of them but I'll get to that Job later). So it's possible that I will update this list for Josie once more when we get news of the rest of the new Jobs.

//

Moving onto my very precious Hosie Fankids!

Lana Mikaelson, she, like her mom Hope, is a Tribrid as well! So this will be pretty much the same except for one additional Job:

Dragoon (same reasoning as Hope)

Red Mage (originally I didn't think of Lana taking Red Mage, but when I realized Stormblood Expansion pack is now included in standard edition and free trial permanently, I had to try out Red Mage. And then I realized Red Mage is a perfect fit for Lana for the same reasons I gave in Hope's section)

Dark Knight (same reasoning as Hope)

Viper (this is one of the new Jobs that will be included in Dawntrail expansion and I am so excited. What information we have are from things that had been showcased already, with gameplay footage you could find on YouTube. But I chose this Job for Lana is because I'm a simple pal and loved the aesthetic. But also because YOU FIGHT WITH DUOBLADES THAT CAN THEN BE CONNECTED INTO ONE DOUBLE SIDED BLADE HOW COOL IS THAT PLUS it also fits well with a certain event and scene that I have plans for when it's time to write about Lana's adventures in my future kid fic series So I Swear That I'll Protect It. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up)

//

Hayley Mikaelson. The werewolf of the kids and one of Hosie's twins! I love Hayley she's the best:

Monk (felt this Job was fitting for her werewolf side. She's a heavy hitter, packs a mean punch, and werewolves sorta rely on that, most of the time I'm assuming. Sorry it's been a while since I've watched the series haha. But for Hayley, despite her werewolf side, I felt like Monk was the perfect fit!)

Rogue (now, I've already written up an in depth reasoning for picking this starting class here. But I'll paraphrase here anyways. I thought it might also be jnteresting to have Hayley, not only be a charge in type of girl, but also someone who knew how to be sneaky and use her cunning. She would have been taught to try out different battle tactics so she wouldn't just rely on her base instincts. The reason this is a starting class is because the next 'evolution' I guess is the Ninja Job, which I'm not sure if I want her to take. It's also very jarring to have a pirate-esque western-y feel and then evolve to something very Japanese-theme, but that's just me. Plus Jay is the anime weeb in the family lol

So literally after writing this post the other day I logged in to play as Hayley and ended up having her pick up the Marauder class so she can actually become Warrior haha

Warrior (like I've mentioned before, Hayley's fighting style is very rush in guns-a-blazing. She will do whatever it takes to have the focus on her so her friends or siblings/family can get the jump on the enemies without fear of getting targetted themselves. Which is absolutely fitting as a Tank role because Tanks pull mobs and enemies, they make sure all mobs and enemies are focusing on THEM while the rest of the party does their job without fear of being targetted. And I specifically chose Warrior as the Job for Hayley is because out of the four Tank Jobs: Paladin, Warrior, Dark Knight, and Gunbraker, I felt like Warrior fit better for Hayley in terms of her role and personality)

Reaper (I was writing this post about how to incorporate Hayley and Leo's TVDU backstory abilities into FFXIV AU and now I can't unsee Reaper being an excellent fit for Hayley because my hc is that Hayley is a werewolf yes, but she also has vampire blood running in her--courtesy of her Tribrid Mom) [RPR Job point added Feb 1, 2024]

Honourable mentions for other Jobs Hayley might take up. I have been humouring the idea of her taking on one of the four Tank Jobs (Paladin, Warrior, Dark Knight, and Gunbreaker), but I truly am unsure which of the Tank Jobs would be best suited for her. I mentioned previously that she's quite a "charge in head first" type, and that's usually what the Tank Jobs do where they pull enemies away from the party members so the party can do their thing. And I think Hayley is very much like that. Maybe Paladin or Warrior would be the two I could see for Hayley because iirc, in one of the intermission chapters for my very first Hosie fic Sad Bedroom Eyes, she was playing D&D and had chosen--nope never mind I just checked I had her pick the Monk class. Welp, that doesn't help me lol. I'll think more on this and then decide. Either that or wait to see what the new Jobs are for Dawntrail (I mean I guess Viper could also fit. And it would be nicely aligned with Rogue. We'll see though).

Also with her picking up a Tank job, I think Hosie would have very different outlooks and opinions on it. Hope--since Dark Knight is also a Tank--would be proud of Hayley and would probably help her fit into her role as a Tank until her daughter feels more confident and comfortable. As opposed to Josie who would be fretting about Hayley having to be the one to pull enemies and have all the attacks be aimed at her. I also think if the entire family goes do dungeons, Hope and Hayley would both be Tanks, Hope being main Tank and Hayley being off Tank at first--but I think they'll switch roles so that Hayley will get a chance to be main Tank. I think that would be really fun and really sweet bonding moment for the Hosie family.

//

Jay Mikaelson, the loveable goofball, twin to Hayley, big time anime weeb, and Siphoner. He will also have similar Jobs like his momma Josie, all except one additional Job:

Black Mage (same reasoning as Josie)

Blue Mage (same reasoning as Josie)

Dancer (in my fic So I Swear That I'll Protect It, Jay has taken dance classes and gymnastics and uses those moves to incorporate into his fighting in addition to his magic. It took me an embarrassingly long time to remember this information and only popped up when I was writing chapter 15 of We're Reckless And In Danger--second installment in SISTIPI series--so I quickly added this Job to Jay's list! And it's just so perfect for him)

//

Leo Mikaelson, the adopted son, youngest Mikaelson kid, and the ONLY HUMAN in a family of supernaturals. The kid's got his work cut out for him:

Scholar (I felt like this class was fitting for Leo since he wishes to learn all that he can about magic in order to relate more to his three older siblings. Of course Hayley is just a werewolf and does not have magic, but the sentiment is still there. And Scholars have a faerie that pretty much helps with buffs and heals and I think that's also nice for Leo. I see him as someone who's very friendly towards lots of creatures. And since Scholar is a Healing Job, I think it also works even more with Leo's need to want to support his siblings/family and help them out when he can.)

Bard (so I also wrote an in-depth reasoning for Leo taking up this class as well here, but I'll paraphrase. Asides from learning potions that do not require actual magic abilities, I think he'd also want to learn how to help protect his family and contribute a bit more. So he'd go to grandpa Alaric and ask for him to teach him how to fight with weapons. Obviously Hope and Josie were against that because Leo's too young to fight with weapons, but Alaric just teaches him archery--which works because Bards uses bows as their weapon. Another reason why I chose Bard is because in my first Hosie fic Sad Bedroom Eyes, I think I had Leo be really into theatre and performing arts, and Bards traditionally are performers, and in the game, they can play music. So that's why Bard is perfect for Leo!)

Summoner (in the game, Scholar and Summoners are Jobs that branched out of the Arcanist class. Summoners basically summon little versions of Ifrit, Garuda, and Titan to help fight them along with the Carbuncle. Oh, the Carbuncle is like a cute little fox creature anyways the Carbuncle turns into either Ifrit, Garuda, or Titan depending on the button you press anyways--like I said in Scholar, Leo would be out there befriending all the creatures like a tiny Snow White or Cinderella)

Astrologian (I mentioned how this is a great Job for Leo but never elaborated so now's my chance haha. Astrologian is also a Healing Job but they use tarot cards--which I thought would be excellent for Leo because it just connects back to Leo's wish to learn all that he can about magic. I'd like to think Freya teaches Leo how to read tarot and he's become very good at it)

Machinist (I think Machinist would be nice for Leo as well. The way I headcanon it, Leo would make potions and would somehow incorporate those into his fighting style. He'd probably tinker with things and build some sort of contraption or whatever. And Machinist are kind of like that--I mean they use guns in the game and I don't think Leo would actually use guns, but again, the sentiment is still there. The lore for this Job is that Machinist sort of follow the footsteps of Cid Garlond, a man who's great with utilizing magitek. So Machinist uses the knowledge that they know and turns it into something they can use in battle. And I think Leo would definitely--again--be creating trinkets of sorts to help his siblings/family that also incorporate the magic element)

White Mage (listen. Leo is a precious sunshine boi with a big imagination. Also White Mage are pure healers so that fits right up Leo's whole "i want to protect my family and make sure they're safe" and the fact that he is, in fact, the only damn healer in the goddamn family lmao. ALSO YOU GET A UNICORN WHEN YOU PLAY THIS JOB. OBVIOUSLY I'M GOING TO HAVE LEO PICK THIS JOB UP ARE YOU KIDDINGGGGG) [WHM Job point added Feb 14, 2024]

Wow I think that's about it for what Jobs Hosie and my Hosie Fankids would take up. Leo's ended up getting a lot more Jobs compared to the others, but I think it also makes sense considering how Leo is so eager to keep up pace with his supernatural family since he's the only human/non-supernatural.

Of course, maybe this list will get updated once the rest of the new Jobs for the Dawntrail expansion pack gets revealed, but until that happens...

If you've actually made it to the very end of this post, I am so sorry lol. But also thank you for reading through this very niche Hosie AU that was born out of my love for the ship and my love for the Critically Acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV with an expanded free trial which you can play through the entirety of A Realm Reborn and the award-winning Heavensward expansion and award-winning Stormblood expansion up to level 70 for free with no playtime restriction <3

[kvmnamjoons]

Time to get a little mushy since I can't help myself also my favorite Ateez song to fit with this ( still here )

This place has become such a home for me over the years since I joined. I came from just doing things on Indie before and it was a struggle finding others to write with which made me doubt my skills when it came to writing. It made me not want to rp like I used to but that changed when my sibling gave me the push to join this group. Sure the people I've played have changed over the years but I'm so happy that I get to be here still and interact with everyone. I know I'm not on as much as I used to be (blaming work cause being up at 4am and working in retail sucks!) but I'm always so grateful for everyone who wants to interact with my babies. I know Kpop faces tend to be ignored at times but I appreciate how many people have wanted to interact with the 10 I play. I love every friendship that has blossomed and I can't thank all of you enough. Every interactions with the people I played in the past and even now has been nothing but amazing. I'll always enjoy every single interaction.

Guess it's time to get sentimental with a couple special shout outs because I need to do so

@tvnymontana - I know I've said this many times before but I always wanna let you know how much I appreciate you. You are such an important friend to me and I don't know what I'd do if we hadn't connected the way we have. You were one of the first people I connected with and I'm forever grateful that we found each other. I always wanna be a listening ear for you and I'm grateful you do the same for me. Not only do all our babies click with each other but we've got to plan so many amazing things together dealing with them. I'm always excited for whatever we plan for our ships or I just have a great time getting to talk to you about whatever comes to mind. Though I might have a few ideas I wanna run by you myself at some point but gotta make more gifs for you before I do that. Thank you for being an amazing friend and always being there for me. Just know I'm always here no matter what and will always listen to whatever you want to tell me. Love you <3

@jecnjvngkcok - I feel even without telling you, I show how much I adore and appreciate you. You've been there for me for every struggle and I've made sure to do the same for you. I appreciate that you are always just a message away no matter what. Plus I love getting to gush to you about whatever possible since my one track mind loves doing so especially when it comes to Ateez. Your ideas are always amazing and I want you to know that you are such a beautiful person and I feel I should tell you this more often whenever I can. You've gone through a lot but I'm always here for you no matter what. I always appreciate that you enjoy chemistry since it seems that our babies click so well together. I look forward to planning more with you for our babies here and can't wait to see what we do next. Forever grateful that I got to meet you and will continue to show you how much I appreciate having you in my life. Love you a ton, bb <3

@westcoastsaweetie - Already know I had to make a special mention for you. I know I've said enough when it comes to JoongDi but I can't help it. I love our babies so much and I'm so happy they are finally going to get married. I already can't wait till we have everything set for it. Just know that I will make sure Hongjoong gushes in his vows because he seems to be good at that when it comes to Diamonté. Forever appreciative for everything we've done and know that I'll always throw the Ateez members I play at both of yours since they adore Megan and Diamonté. Thanks for being a great friend and being there to chat with me at times whether it's just for ideas us taking about different things. Love you <3

Of course I had to tag a few more of you that always make this place even more enjoyable and special to me. I appreciate that you all are always there to interact with my babies and so willing to build friendships with them. Even if we don't talk much ooc or if we even talk ooc at all, you all still make just the ic interactions super enjoyable. You all make rping so much fun and I always look forward to any interactions from you all with my ten. I don't know what I'd do without getting the chance to interact with you all. I love you all <3 @tcemint @yxkhei @yvngboks @tcmhcll @janggyul @thatnattyice @lilreinhvrt @ninqningie

[nightmarecountry]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN MEME.

NAME: currently we mostly go by Wilds on here, though I (the host) am uh... between names, ha. went through some shit this year that i'm pretty sure triggered a host change/a new host split SO.

PRONOUNS: they/them collectively. it/its too if we're friends i think. it's complicated. host also uses she/her and (rarely, these days) he/him but again... complicated...

MOST ACTIVE MUSES: i mean. the corinthian, obviously, but which Flavour of him i want to write really depends on the day... over on my multimuse it varies WILDLY and often just depends on if there's a particular plot point or theme i'm rotating in my head a bunch.

RP PET PEEVES: look if i get into that here someone's gonna snipe me from the rooftops or something for having an honest feeling in public. i don't like lack of communication (or the passive aggression that comes with it), people feeling entitled to my time/attention/replies, or anyone making me feel obligated to do anything ever tbh.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS: i've been RPing for like uhhh... 17-18 years at this point. jesus.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT: definitely angst. i like reading smut more than writing it (mostly because writing it gets stressful real fast), and i love fluff but it's gotta have substance to it. i feel like the secret fourth answer here is "depth".

PLOTS OR MEMES: hmm... it's sort of both. i honestly like ic asks most of all: not memes, but not threads either. i like having a sort of 'foundation' to work off of and going back and forth with it, but i can only really plot extensively with someone when i've gotten to know them well. i LOVE memes but i tend to need a lot of them because if you only send one there's a solid 80% chance i won't have an answer in mind KJNSDJKNSDF

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: medium i guess! i need to get comfortable doing short as hell replies again but i always worry people will take it as a lack of interest. i don't tend to do suuuper long replies because i have trouble remembering everything i've written lmfao

IDEAL TIME TO WRITE: somehow, 3-4am. i am rarely AWAKE during those hours right now but it's still just peak writing hours for me, probably due to lack of distractions.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: baby i'm not even like myself. but in all seriousness, i feel like as a writer you're always gonna be putting bits and pieces of yourself into your characters - particularly for RP which is a much more uh, 'close contact' form of writing, i feel? i can separate myself very well from my characters when writing fic or other stories, but RP i feel requires you to step into their shoes a lot more often and more consistently... so yknow. anyway man i have DID you'd better believe there are pieces of lots of us in all of our characters. good luck guessing where they are (it isn't hard).

tagged by: @peacereflected but i also stole it from @ohsunshine because i'm in love with them both. hope this helps.

tagging: you. but also @spacereflected and @talentforlying and [spins a wheel] @pohlepen

[daybreakrising]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: lauri

PRONOUNS : he / him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : discord absolutely over anything else, IMs next. people i write with are always allowed to ask for my discord, and i recommend that you do bc it's easier for me than IMs as the notifs are 1000x more reliable. and i find it easier to share stuff / ramble about our muses/dynamics there

NAME OF MUSE(s) : i... have many. main ones at the moment are wrio, vautrin, baizhu & blade, bc they're the loudest at rattling their cages rn.

BEST EXPERIENCE : honestly? joining this rpc. it's the first one that (so far, please don't change-) i haven't had any issues with regarding shitty behaviour or shittier people.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :

- vague-posting. i cannot tell you how fucking irritating i find this. it's a shitty & unnecessary thing to do and i will call you out on it if we're friendly and i see you doing it. being vague about something is just inviting drama, and given that so many of us have anxieties, you have no idea who you're subsequently stressing out with your passive aggression.

- plotting, even loosely, with someone & then taking that plot to another version of the same muse. thankfully i don't see too much of this happening these days but, man, it infuriates me.

- hating on someone's headcanons simply bc they don't align with yours. everyone writes a muse differently - that's the beauty of rp. you are allowed to disagree with a headcanon, sure, but if you think your opinion is the only correct one... get out. take your insecurities elsewhere thank u.

MUSE PREFERENCES: morally grey characters, characters who have several layers to wade through and delve into, characters that provide a good challenge for me to write, dogboys.

PLOTS OR MEMES : both. i love plots but i can & will create plots from memes too - and memes are a great way to get things going, to prompt dynamic development & can also just... be fun.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : listen. LISTEN. if you've followed me for any length of time you know i love long replies. LIVE FOR THEM. being able to freely write several paragraphs without feeling guilty for dumping essays on my writing partner is delicious. but i'm not opposed to short replies either - they're good for when muse is low, or my energy levels are limited.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : literally the middle of the night. my most productive hours are between 10pm and 4am.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : i have enough muses to be able to say: probably. i do tend to pick muses that resonate with me in some way, whether that's something in their personality or their background that i identify with, or some other aspect of the character that is familiar. that doesn't apply to all of them, necessarily, but certainly the majority.

tagged by: @ruinare (thank u!)

tagging: idk who hasn't already been tagged so feel free to yoink this from me & say i tagged you !

[fainthedcherry]

PARAMORE RELEASED THEIR A24 TRIBUTE COVER TODAY. AND I GOT INSPIRED BY THE LYRICS AND THE VISUALIZER.

IMAGE CREDITS BC VERY OBVIOUSLY THIS IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PIC COLLAGE PIECE PRIMARILY BELOW DESC (I DID NOT TAKE THE COOL PICS OBV.)

OK GIANT CREDIT BLOCK GO (Freepik and pexels my beloved saved my entire college year lmao):

1 OCEAN WAVES

2 OCEAN WAVES AGAIN

3 YES A THIRD OCEAN WAVE

4 VERY COOL DROPLETS

5 FLAME. OO FIRE PRETTYYY /POS

6 BG I CHEATED YOU INTO BELIEVING IS RAIN

The drawing though is made by my acoustic arse /lh

THE LYRICS ARE TAKEN FROM THE VID I LINKED. HAYLEY'S VOICE MY BELOVED AND FOREVER DEAREST ENTIRE BAND /POSPOSPOS. I wanna sing like Hayley so badly, she is such an idol to me, when it comes to vocals and I wish to sing as expressive as her some day 🤧✨💖

--

WHAT MORE CAN I SAY, OTHER THAN I'VE BEEN EXPERIMENTING WITH SHORT DRAWINGS, THAT TAKE UNDER A DAY TO COMPLETE TO FIGURE OUT SOME THINGS I WANNA DO AS AN ARTIST AND POSSIBLY COMMISSIONS. + These drawings genuinely kinda de-stress so it's been free therapy too, oops. I wanna do more of these vector-style drawings, that are just me taking lyrics and creating these fun collages, of things that inspire me or I like. It's a chill practice and lets my creativity actually do the work for once, instead of my usual need to outdo myself in every drawing and improve lmao. Improvement is cool and all, but dear god did I not realise how hard my need for perfection last year stress and strangle me tf out. I seriously need to re-evaluate the way I approach art as this massive, intimidating medium, when most artists literally draw for fun, and for me it's been like...A Sisyphean task.

--

If you enjoyed seeing this, I might make a sequel with C'est Comme Ca and w/ Marco in it instead and a red BG,, if I want to, I might turn these into a series, just like those aesthetic icon drawings I made of my 2 boys, started Lotta, and IMMEDIATELY lost that sketch due to my USB's death back in 2022 and lost all motivation for art due to that massive loss /neg

--

Not sure what else to add here other than my thoughts that I already did!! Other than ofc, the usual, MASSIVE thank you to my friend Hollowed-Hartlocke for introducing me to Paramore back in 2019 <3

Think I'm done rambling now tho!! OH WAIT. I can add, that I had to actually pull out Adobe Illustrator just to add stretched text for aesthetic purposes. Then I got so impatient with the effects panel not showing me the usual layer-effects and me being too lazy to look up, whether InDesign was the one, that had the usual layer effects I use in an Adobe program or not. Btw still mooching off my college acc that shoulda been dead long ago but just isn't??? LMAO I'M STILL GONNA USE IT IF I CAN ALRIGHT.

OH YEAH BTW. This drawing took 3 hours. NO I'M NOT KIDDING. PEOPLE WOULD PROBABLY BE SHOCKED THAT SUCH A LAZY LOOKING PIECE TOOK SO LONG. BUT I GENUINELY AM RATHER SHOOK THAT I TOOK SUCH LITTLE TIME TO CREATE THIS. TBF I threw MOST proportion checks and canvas flips I do out the window, so there's a BIG chance I will hate this, if I flip the canvas xD ANYWAY I RAMBLED LONG ENOUGH I THINK NOW. JUST ENJOY EXPERIMENTAL ART

^Before-bed edit; Yeah his torso's a TAD too much leaning to the left, it's off-center to the rotation of his pelvis to be in fact, but maybe? I'll roll with this mistake. It kinda gives the piece its abstract nature..I kinda like the mistake?? This is the first time in my life I ever tolerated a mistake I did and now declare it on purpose and will probably build one into the next piece as well. Hell, maybe it'll yield an interesting result. Anyway, it's 12PM as I write this, and I have to get up at 4AM for my train soOooo, yeah, gotta sleep ASAP for school.

I have NO clue again what to 100% accurately tag this, so forgive me if the tags are wrong LMAO, I just will believe what I believe it has overlaps w/ within art-genre.

This piece kiiinda gives pop art??? So I'm gonna tag it as such as well, but but might be incorrect. If a pop-art enjoyer wants to correct me, PLEASE DO. I'm going off the definitions of pop-art I learned in high-school. So I could most def be wrong about me adding this tag in particular. How tf do people confidently tag their posts when I doubt almost every tag I add man. Tagging is the worst part of uploading art to me due to how hard it is to label art really, not meant to be in a genre. xD

Def adding Paramore tags tho bc I NEED to know more Paramore fans out there bc we feel like such a tiny community, when they're literally one of the most influential rock bands of the 2000s and 2010s imho AUGH

[twig-tea]

9 People You'd Like To Know More

Tagged by @waitmyturtles & @thewayofsubtext TY friends!

Last song:

Currently watching: I....don't judge me ok:

Be Mine Superstar [I've been quiet on this because I'm really disliking it; I do think this role suits Ja and First is doing a good job too. But everyone in this show is just so manipulative and the fan-to-lover premise really bothers me]

Be My Favorite [everyone knows how obsessed on this one I am lol]

Dinosaur Love [I am watching this one like a car crash]

Hidden Agenda [cute! Not sure what it's trying to say yet, but the cuteness and open communication and chemistry is carrying me through]

Jun and Jun [I was really hoping for a mutual pining story but todays' ep says I might be wrong; sus of the second lead and now there's a third?! Not sure about this one either tbh]

Laws of Attraction [my favourite viewing experience right now. Every moment is a delight!]

Low Frequency [pretty but pacing, editing, and camerawork is stilted and slow, and the writing isn't great]

Minato's Laundromat S2 [here for plots in which the characters work out how to be in relationship! That said it is starting to drag a bit for me now]

Show Me Love [GL, rerun; very low drama plot, cute fluff]

Stay By My Side [this one was slow to start (you could skip ep 1 and 2 and miss nothing) but is a delight;. Prayer circle for honesty this week]

Stay Still [pretty but a bit convoluted. Wrote a post to help anyone trying to start this series. For my happy-ending-only buds, this one has ambiguous/sad ending flags all over it so approach with caution]

Wedding Plan the Series [....it's fine. I can't really get past the premise of extended and unnecessary secret lol but I do appreciate that Nuea was thirsty from jump]

About to start:

My Personal Weatherman

Love Class s2

Only Friends

Marry My Dead Body [film]

Stay With Me [If the rumours are true and it is not censored bromance but an acknowledged relationship, I will binge it--but holding out for actual confirmation]

Just finished:

Sing My Crush / Follow the Wind [this was like a hug in series form]

Tokyo in April Is .../ Shigatsu no Tokyo wa [so good, still thinking about it]

Oh, Mando! [rewatched; messy but enjoyable]

Baggage Claimed [lesbian miniseries; messy lol]

TXT at Lollapalooza concert [I don't self-identify as a kpop person but I do occasionally get up at 4am for kpop concerts? I contain multitudes]

Heartstopper [cute; like the source material, it feels extremely earnest sometimes in an endearing way and sometimes in an off-putting way. I would like it more if this show/comic let these characters make more mistakes, but it's filling a niche]

I also have a backlog of FMVs I'm slowly whittling away at...there's too much media in the world friends!

Currently reading: Tumblr and AO3, who has time for anything else? Just finished "Long Distance" by thingswithwings [Good Omens], and about to catch up on updating the collection of Be My Favorite meta before ep12 drops.

Current obsession: Please see aforementioned Be My Favorite meta, it's been very fun but at this point I need the episode to drop so I can have my brain back please!

Gonna be lazy and tag the same folks again as in the last tag game, as always no pressure! @incandescentflower @ellaspore @marbles290 @tinycowboybro @benkaaoi @williamrikers @formayhem @sorry-bonebag @manogirl

[yandere-monoma]

good evening it is 4am and i have writer's block so imma reread one of my fave recent fics and reminisce about having the ability to write lmfao

so WHOO, eat your young: director's commentary:

the fuckin song gets stuck in my head every time i read the title HJGKFGS originally i was stuck between this one or another title from aNOTHER song but i forgot what that song was so note to self: edit this post when i remember LOL

lines like these are ones that potentially make me dissociate to reread HAHAHA. i don't even know if it quite portrays the atmosphere i'm usually referencing with lines like these (there's something about the lighting that accompanies irl traumatic memories for me that i always end up focusing on and trying to allude to in writing even when i'm not necessarily trying to project... being drenched in darkness with only one point of light to focus on... @_@) but idk its tasty and i love how i opened this fic teehee

this opening scene is very much a love letter (and quick summary of) all the FUCKIN stridercest fics i've read throughout the years, like one of the many things i love about any darkfic niche part of fandom is that there tends to be these few locations that everyone settles on and obsesses over for their ships. for todocest it's the dojo, for goyuu its the basement, for a lot of stridercest fics it's bro's couch/futon. i wanted something that was quickly recognizable for anyone who also has been reading their way through the tag like i have HJSKFG

one of those teeny tiny lil motifs that i had fun sprinkling in ghsdjfkg very fun to play with homestuck's use of color motifs and what it could provide for dave in this new context. it's also a reference to the epilogues, which i'm more obvious about when i bring the motif back later:

in the epilogues, there's a few moments where john waxes poetic about the slightly unsettling environment of earth c

and the thought of that drove me crazy. earth c and the way it's supposed to represent this unfitting paradise that's just a little bit wrong and a little too perfect and the way that perfection grates at you when you start to notice it. i love the metaphor of paradise being uncomfortable because of all the trauma and grief and fighting that preceded it. rly reminds me of how hard it is irl to adjust to happiness and love and comfort after being abused and hurt for so long 😩😩😩

don't even ask me where the bro drinks hibiki hc came from but it's something i carried over from the brorose pornverse because ~consistency~

nothing to say besides being proud of this LOL

...

...

...

man i have such a love/hate relationship with writing dave dialogue and by that i mean i hate it cuz i never think it's enough LMFAO. i envy anyone who can adopt homestuckian humor and wit easily because i can Not. like i try my best but just know every second i gotta write this idiot talking i'm screaming in agony and bleeding out my ass about it internally JHKFGS

wonder if i'd feel differently if his dialogue was in the pesterchum fonts tho...

CRAZY how much i like that better HAHAHFGKSDFG

one day i'll do a fic where the dialogue is done like the epilogues but until then i suffer and die every time i have to use proper grammar for dave's speech, anyway,

ANYWAY john being a terrible parent is one of the sexiest things that has ever been done with his character i'm so thankful for it godjskfgsdfg and i love thinking about dave's misplaced guilt on the matter. "You want to be on your best friend's side for this, sure, bristling with the instinct to defend him, but you can't commit to it. The sad kid in front of you, put out and missing his father's love, that's who has all your sympathy right now." dave being unable to keep from projecting onto harry from the start, unable to keep from instantly empathizing with the child's point of view in this scenario (partially because he can't unsee himself as anything but an abused child even despite his growing age) and immediately feeling himself distancing emotionally from john at the thought that he could be anything like bro as a guardian.

it's actually a shame i didn't rly get a chance to elaborate on this further because i think there's a lot of fun to be had with thinking about dave's reactions to john's parenting from this point on, like... GOD. when john tried to kidnap tavvy as a kid???????????? feel like that's a fucking GOLD mine of possibly triggering ammo against dave's psyche goddamnit

if harry didn't change the subject here, he would have started bashing john for his drinking habits and canon tendency to traumadump on him while drunk HJSKFG he's made harry incredibly uncomfortable more than a few times doing this and i think it's definitely made an impression on him, but harry decides not to because he doesn't want to do the same thing to dave. he also doesn't want to remind dave that they're doing anything 'bad' here

writing shit like this into a story rly is just for the purpose of practicing interiority in characterization hehe. i feel like it's also a side effect from writing for theatre, trying to mimic as many naturalistic structures of dialogue as possible. fun to fit in tangents that just never really get answered or directly referred to

THE WAY THERE WAS NO ROOM TO TALK ABOUT DAVEJADE FAILED MARRIAGE BUT GOD I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT DAVEJADE FAILED MARRIAGE SO BAAAAAAAD tfw you spend all your free time hanging out with teenagers to avoid having sex with your loving wife

...

this part of the fic is fun because originally this idea came from a discord convo

and it is SO FUCKING FUN to write prose around someone else's dialogue and thoughts 10/10 will recommend

it's especially fun too because all of dave's thoughts and dialogue from around this point on is mostly outlined by my friend, so it was so fun getting to work their insights and characterization into my own interpretation of his character

...

the build-up where dave and harry start snuggling drives me fucking crazy every time like every time i reread this bit i'm always biting on my knuckles and screaming goddamnit goddamnit dirty wrong awful intimacy that suddenly overwhelms you and crushes you and you don't even notice the way you're dissociating from your every action but you aRE

originally this paragraph was also supposed to have a davejade mention but i just couldn't figure out how to make the thought flow well with everything else. originally there was supposed to be something about the way he always shrinks away from jade's touches, how they always make him feel worse and feel colder than he did before she'd tried, but yeah... didnt fit... and ultimately i think the fic is stronger as is. jade being an afterthought that only vaguely gets talked around feels very ic for candy dave anyway HJGFK and rly everything that he feels towards her is more just a side effect of everything he's suffered by bro's hands. no need to focus on his discomfort about jade when his discomfort about harry is more than enough

that being said every time i remember everything i had to omit i WAAAAAAIL

"Syrup clogs your throat. Your throat burns dully, your tongue feeling heavy with that leftover numbing weight of sugar and liquor." lines i cant reread without rly badly craving booze

literally the biggest challenge of this fic was the fact that its secretly a johndave/daveroxy/daverose fic HAHAHGFJG like trying to balance the fact that one of dave's biggest driving forces when it comes to his attraction to harry is that he's just been hosting a million and one ultimately unrequited crushes all his life that he's now projecting forward and trying to showcase that without drawing tOOOOOOOO much attention away from the other main driving force (brodirk and the incest fetish he'd instilled in him)... so sooo hard to balance but i like to think i did a decent job

'let him escape this feeling like he might still be a good person' is such a fucking good line/thought/sentiment that i'm so upset i had no room for cuz it's so good HJGKFSGS who knows maybe one day i'll be able to figure out a way to squeeeeeeze it into an edit cuz god knows i still tweak this and all my fics every now and then

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i love this part... go off past ricky... do find it funny tho that i was ~vibing~ so hard with the prose that i forgot dave's canon ages just a tad HAHA shhhh

these are some of my favorite kisses i've ever written goddamnit

literally the funniest and most inspiring words my writing partner has ever said like LEGEND... it was this phrase specifically that made me drop everything and start writing this fic cuz i KNEW i needed to slap that onto the summary pls JGKLFSG

(Did you ever have a chance? Did he?)

i feel obligated to speak on this line because it's like. one of the huge major themes of the fic HJSKDFGSFG the inevitability of dave continuing a cycle that he's been trying to avoid. really, what can i say, though. this fic follows a timeline that's alluded to but still has yet to be written out (and who knows if i ever actually will write it out, i'm kinda just updating this fic series based on impulses) where dave moves on to project all his trauma with bro onto dirk after they win the game. i love the thought of them trying their best to keep up the brother routine before dave's need to retraumatize himself and dirk's own fucked up inclinations results in them becoming sexually involved. like, honestly, i could go on forever about dirkdave and the ways they make each other better and worse but yeah. the second dave gave into that self destructive urge, he was done. and it's something that bled into his marriage, that bled into his inability to rly engage with karkat, that fed on his ability to be his own person and work on his own recovery. dirk died and the universe went stagnant and with it, dave's ability to grow out of the mold he was forced into by bro

so yeah. he's already at this huge disadvantage. and while this fic focuses on dave's perspective, there's a lot to be said about harry's mindset as well. the way he's egging this on, the way he's encouraging it, the way he's trying to poke into any sort of vulnerability that dave may or may not have. the way he wouldnt quite have the words to pinpoint and identify shit like emotional incest or grooming but he can see that there's something wrong and exciting about what they're doing that he wants to take part in. being set up to failure because of john's neglect, already thinking he's more mature than he is because of it, perhaps knowing just a bit too much about romance and sex because of whatever weirdass confessions about his own relationships john had unwittingly given him. not to mention his feelings for dave and the way he makes him feel like they're equals and the way he gets attention and affection freely from him without really having to fuss and fight for it like he does with vrissy.

so yeah. these two were doomed from the start 😌💙

'That saccharine sear of shame that washes over you then only makes it worse. You can’t fucking believe you’re popping a boner ten seconds into a make-out session.'

so like, i wrote this before getting deep into the show succession and thank god cuz this def would have turned into a ramble about how dave probably was completely unable to get it up during sex with jade. that absolutely was the case because i like to think that dave really is just hardwired into having rly bad sexual hang-ups where his body is just so conditioned to react to a lack of consent and boundaries and an abundance of incest but now thanks to my intimate knowledge of roman roy i also know now that dave occasionally (frequently) has rly bad erectile dysfunction in the face of anything '''healthy'''. thanks a lot succ

this isn't where the wordplay starts but it's where a good amount of it is HJGKFG i feel like 'bro' is a silly word to use in big deep serious prose sometimes HAHAH so my reluctance to use it here is part of why this wordplay started but the other reason is because i have a BIG stylistic thing(tm) about playing with pronouns and names and what omitting them can do for the narrative. blurring bro and dirk by refusing to name them but letting their actions speak for which splinter is being referred to was a very fun experiment (though, perhaps less successful than other iterations of mine where i did this same sort of pronoun play... OH WELL they cant all be perfect)

mentally dave switches from aggressor to aggressor. this possessive need to destroy harry starts to bleed in, inspired by bro and what he'd done to dave and what he'd taught him of sexuality and domination. a part of him resists that, reminding him of the terrifying impact of it all, the horror of initiating and acting on a fucked up desire, and then he switches to dirk, projecting that forward instead. dirk, who he is currently choosing to see more as a victim, who was just trying to help dave as he pushed and pushed at him. it's simultaneously a moment where he can start to blame harry just a little bit about what's happening instead of himself (because harry keeps pushing, he keeps begging to do this, he thinks it's what he wants and dave is just helping him because he doesn't feel he has a choice) and it's a moment where he finally puts himself in dirk's shoes and realizes (fears) that maybe dirk didn't want this as much as he might have acted. that dirk had likely gone through a similar internal conflict that started to kill him inside.

'Jade tries, but something about her touch disgusted you.' IT WAS SUCH A STRUGGLE TO FINALLY MENTION HER LMFAOHSDJFKG such a relief... altho the line after this one rly kicked my ass i could not figure it out for the longest time hjskdfgsg jadey i love you im so sorry

this was an interesting divulgence from the original thought:

which i couldnt rly fit in especially with how balls deep we're into dave's thoughts at the moment but i love it

this line is so stupid HAHAJFGSFG its so funny to me. its a shoutout to me realizing halfway through the initial outline that they're actually half brothers instead of JUST uncle/nephew AND it's a reference to this specific incest joke in the epilogues

(the way harry is there to witness this moment and also say the word incest right after dave... a ship made for mE)

i love this sequence so much i'm so proud of it like FUCK

some of my friends have started to use this line as a copypasta now and it cracks me the FUCK up every time they do HJSKFDGSDF

generally, whenever i write stream of consciousness fics, i'm always building up and waiting for the moment where the stream suddenly goes off track. there's always gonna be a super fun part where i get to just ramble out a bunch of run-on sentences and hopefully even format them in a fun absolutely-inspired-by-poetry way. and i can't stress enough how fucking SATISFYING it is to get there and have it come out (almost) exactly how you thought it would whee

THOUGHTS THAT GOT LOST BUT GOD HARRY CRACKS ME UP... and i love that part of john's personality... and i love the way it unknowingly grates on dave hjsdfg he definitely has a very clear image of victimhood and the way harry doesn't fit into that mold drives him fucking crazy.

one of my favorite parts of dave's unreliable narration, him projecting onto dirk because of his own guilt. it's the only way he can really bring himself to admit that, in that moment, after everything he's done, he's immediately feeling suicidal and bereft with his guilt on the whole situation.

i mention this in a comment as well but i love to think about ult dirk and dirk's internal corruption of his own character. i think it's a fun chicken or the egg scenario, trying to decide if dirk was still himself when he allowed dave to seduce him into this, if dirk's guilt helped guide him into his eventual instability, or if that instability is what lead to him acting on his incestuous urges. did his actions lead to him being labeled a villain, or did he decide to prove his villainy by lashing out?

and it is VERY fun to have this be something dave had done, knowing that in the future, he will be guided into his own metaphorical and literal suicide, abandoning a life he's more than ready to run away from =u= and the cycle continues nyehehe

final thoughts that may or may not be used in a future fic (i'm the black):

what the hell is wrong with harry in d e e d... stares at john

[4dself]

Chronicles of a Fandom Luminary: My Journey as a Renowned Fan Fiction Writer. (and an obsessed fan)

Journey into Fandom: I've been in a few fandoms throughout but I believe this was the first fandom that was probably the deepest I'd ever been. And when I say deep I mean deep. I most definitely won't be dropping any specific names but I'm sure you'll be able to pick up along the way some hints here and there about what I'm talking about.

I was on YouTube in 2016 or 2017 and had come across a few videos on YouTube, then couldn't get enough and was watching reactions of other groups reacting to other groups. I'm sure you get it by now. lol.

My memory from this time is a bit foggy about how I got into this fandom exactly but this is how I discovered them.

There were two within the group and I really loved their dynamic with one another; along with the other thousands of people. I loved how they interacted, talked, and were cool with one another. I was obsessed. I watched YouTube compilation videos that others had made of them and it garnered lots of views, I loved everything about their bond and was genuinely obsessed to an insane amount.

I realized I had too much love for them and an overwhelming affection for the two especially one of them. My entire being literally overflowed with love and obsession and I needed an outlet for all this. This is when I came across Wattpad.

Discovering Fanfiction

I had used Wattpad in the past to read normal/regular stories from authors--never actually using the app as an author myself, but mainly as a reader.

I saw that the fandom I was in had specific tags and names for my OTP. I saw that the tags/names would be paired with drawings, vdeos, etc. I then realized I could use those same names/hashtags to search for content on other platforms. So I searched on wp andd I was surprised but filled with happiness and excitement as I saw that my otp had so many stories written about them. I added these books to my library and read and read and read. I would read until 3AM just engulfing myself into their universe of love.

It wasn't long until I had a favourite dynamic of who was the top and who was the bottom; then only reading and enjoying that specific dynamic. I was mainly obsessed with one of them though and read every single thing related to him. him x the others, it didn't matter because it was him. Though my favourite otp above all the rest was him x the other guy.

I was very, very happy with the authors I followed and supported and all, as so many of them created so much amazing and good content. I had so many stories in my library saved and I had read all of them more than 20 times. (no joke). I had two absolute favourite authors and I was more than obsessed with their works as they only ever posted about the otp and did so beautifully. it was clear they were just as obsessed. One of them did eventually went mia for a while due to some things happening, and she came back a year later with an update to one of the stories and was more than active. the other favourite author went mia until their account eventually got deleted. She was my #1 writer and me and the other 15k+ followers were more than obsessed with everything she released.

It also wasn't long for me to start getting into writing the stories myself. I remember writing my first ever story of my otp and finishing it at 4AM on a school night. I was filled with joy and adrenaline because I was simply so happy to be writing things about them and obsessing over them.

I shared the story with my best friend and she helped me edit it, read it over for me, gave me suggestions etc. before finally publishing it. That story did extraordinarily well on the platform and it wasn't long before I started pumping out more work. Every work I shared and finished did better than the next. I had gained over 1.2k followers in a span of 2 months and it only continued to grow from there. Engagements were high, everyone was active, it was more than amazing.

I realized I loved writing my otp because I was in complete control of the story. I could write about absolutely anything and could feed the hunger within me that was so obsessed with them. I had so many ideas and fantasies that I was able to publish and it seemed there were just as many people waiting for it as those stories did extrodinarily well. I wasn't only obsessed with my otp but again with him and so many of my stories consisted of him x xyz in the group simply because I loved the dynamic he had with the others as well; and also watched content regarding any of his ships.

I had published so many stories until the point I stopped reading on wattpad and became a main author myself on that platform when it came to the otp. I was starving for some new content about my otp, something fresh, something clean and brand new that I had never seen before but it came to a point where wattpad simply did not have what I was looking for. The quality I wanted, I could not find on wattpad. I had eventually slowed down my writing and barely published new works; but updated chapters here and there times.

Twitter and AO3

I craved some new content really bad but didn't know where to look. I went to wattpad to try to fill parts of the cravings but it did not work anymore. I got bored of reading the same thing over and over but couldn't go a day without not indulging.

I'm not sure how I stumbled upon twitter, but this was also the very first time I was introduced to stan twitter. My wp handle and twitter handle were the same. I updated my followers on wp that I now had a twitter account and told them I would be more active there. Quickly I found content regarding my otp and his numerous ships, and the dynamic I enjoyed. I followed accounts that also loved and were obsessed with him and his other ships as well. The community was huge.

I believe this was when I came across AO3. I'm not sure exactly how I found it but I was in love. AO3 was levels above wattpad. It was and still is in a leauge of it's own. The writing quality was absolutely beautiful, the mountains of stories and stories regarding my ships and especially my otp made my mouth water. I was amazed and in awe that such a platform existed and it was only now that I came across it. I believe my friend knew about it long before I did and helped me get use to the platform. I quickly created an AO3 account which had the same handle as my wp and twt.

It did not take long for me at all to start publishing. My first work and gained many kudos and love from so many, so many comments I received were written in paragraphs; it's as if they wrote an entire story in my comments. Quickly, my following on twitter grew exponentially. I loved writing so much and loved that there was a large community for all of this. I soon found other writers on twitter and fanartists and what not, and I read all their content and reposted it all too. It was amazing. I couldn't ask for anything better. Everyday there was something new for me to induldge in regarding my otp and any of his ships. I truly couldn't believe it. Even if it was in another language I would find a translation for it.

It was interesting to learn that there were people more obsessed than I was on an entirely different level.

I published more content and gained lots of exposure--even becoming twitter mutuals with one of my all time favourite writers of my otp. She was very well known for her works about the otp and I was so excited that she loved my stories just as much. I had moved from wp to twitter and AO3. I would receive so many dms of people saying they loved my works and how thankful they were about me and the content and ideas I would produce. People also dm'd me suggestions about what to write and a story line they would love to see and of course I took so many things into consideration and would publish them. My best friend even helped me work on some stories together, we brainstormed and wrote it together, it was very fun. She wasn't in the fandom or anything like that but liked helping me out fomr time to time or whenever I needed it.

Eventually, not only did I publish fics but started posting fanart as well. (I used to be an artist until it no longer interested me) I posted lots of otp art, and it gained lots of traction as well.

I even participated in kinktober (for fanfics) and wrote something every single day and published it. It did well of course. I never wanted to do it again as it was also draining.

Things could only go up from there. I was well known within the community, my works were being shared amongst others and were included in threads regarding reccomendations. Every single day there was new content regarding my otp and any of his ships, the fan art from fanartists was of insane and highest quality, writing from writers was of amazing and highest quality it was just an amazing sight. I was even surprised my favourite fanartist had a twitter as well since I only found her on tumblr, and of course her following was just as grand on both platforms. I would go through all the art she published everyday as it was just too good. She was and is still very popular.

I literally could not go a day without my otp. Every day I was indulging in anything and everything about them and was utterly obsessed. It legitamatly was one of the main things that brought me happiness (lol).

I also realized much later on that I only cared about my otp and his other ships. If it was any other ships that included someone in my main otp in their ship, I wouldn't even engage with it or bother to acknowledge it but it brought me annoyance. Yes, this literally would drop my mood down and make me upset. So, to lighten my mood again I would go back and simply engage with my otp content. I realized that majority of the community did not like that other communties otp as they would harass us as they solely wanted their otp to be the main one. It was out of some sort of jealousy since our otp announced many things together, worked together in duo projects, and always paired together in everything.

Curious cat

Moving forward, I had eventually created a curious cat as I had seen it was something a lot of content creators within stan twitter had. I would recieve hundreads of anonymous messages everyday and would respond to them. 98% of it was very, very posititve and had nice things to say about my writing and etc. the other 2% were low lifes, bottom of the barrel individuals who sent odd things about the otp and my writing because they wanted me to write about their otp. I made it clear that if they were that upset, they should go write it on their own. I would even get dt because some people were that upset.

Majority of the community was on my side when it came to any rude messages from anonymous', and would defend me.

It was fun but eventually I closed down my curious cat due to receiving too many messages on a daily bases and not being able to respond to them at once.

Closing Twitter

Twitter was very toxic in general. Even amongst the main group fandom it was just weird. I loved the community and everything having to do with our otp but twitter was just not the vibe for me. Despite having many devout followers, I didn't like being on the platform anymore; so I closed my account down and remained only on AO3. Of course people were very upset about my account closing as I had lots of content on my account that many would revisit daily, and it wasn't on AO3.

I still regined without a twitter account. I published and eveyrone was content and just glad that I was still active.

Present

I am no longer obsessed. Though, I did publish something this October since I hadn't published something in a very long time and of course it's doing numbers.

I skipped quite a few things in this story since I don't consider them to be too relevent to this story. I have many more stories to tell regarding stan twitter and being a solo at one point but those are stories for another day.

I'm wondering if anyone knows the ship. I don't think I said anything specific at all; the information provided is so broad.

[bludhavents]

Out Late

pairing: bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

summary: Bruce isn't home yet and you can't get in touch with him. He comes home and fluff ensues.

word count: 900

warnings/tags: fluff, domestic!Bruce, kissing.

based on this request. I am so, so sorry this has been in my drafts since you requested it, and your message in my inbox just reminded me I never posted it!!! I loved writing this : )

Three hours had passed since Bruce promised to be home from his nightly patrol, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel physically sick with anxiety. Both of his identities were of too high status to pursue: If you called the hospitals around town asking if Bruce Wayne had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham. If you called the hospitals around town asking if Batman had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham.

The only thing you could do to soothe yourself was take a seat on the couch and glue your eyes to the TV screen, watching the news sacredly. If he was injured--or god-forbid he was dead--Gotham Nightly News would surely have the story as soon as it happened. So, as long as they kept talking about the falling stock market and upcoming weather forecast, you were able to find a sliver of peace.

Still, not knowing where Bruce was in the middle of the night was a terrifying thought.

You'd called his phone a hundred times. Left tens of voicemails with a worried voice asking him to just message you when he saw this. To come back to you safely.

The door to your apartment opened suddenly, and you jumped from your seat, racing to where Bruce was entering with open arms. He was still in his Batman gear, which made it hard to hug him or check him for injuries, but that didn't stop you. You happily threw yourself in his arms, squeezing him tightly and breathing out shakily when his arms snaked around your back and held you close to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked gently as your fingers made their way to the mask he was still wearing. He leaned into your soft touch, shutting his eyes at the feeling of your gentle hands after such a long night.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry that I'm late," Bruce said as he guided you back to the couch. He let himself drop onto the cushions, stretched across its length before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you on top of him.

"You're gonna poke my eye out with one of these things, Bruce," you chided, pulling his mask off by its long cowl. Bruce chuckled, his chest shaking with laughter under your body. "Mm, it's all fun and games until you have a girlfriend with an eyepatch," you teased, but when he leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, you gladly obliged, letting your body finally relax against him.

"I think you could pull off an eyepatch," Bruce said as he pulled away from the kiss, earning a small chuckle from yourself. The sound was music to his ears, and he realized that he was truly undeserving of such a loving, caring woman in his life who was willing to stay up until 4am just to lay on the couch with him when he got home.

He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth. Your hands found his hair and he melted into the feeling of your skin against his. He settled his hands under your shirt on the small of your back, but you pulled away before he could deepen the kiss.

"Let's get you out of this," You sighed, pushing your hair back out of your face before taking both of Bruce's hands and guiding him to your bedroom, where a change of clothes already waited for him on the bed.

Bruce grinned softly, although his attention was primarily focused on watching your lips move as you spoke. He let you walk him to the bed and sit him on the edge of the mattress. Slowly, your hands worked to remove his suit piece-by-piece, something you had done only a few times before. He always tried to clean up before coming home, cleaning his cuts before they could worry you, and changing out of his sweaty suit so he could feel your soft hands wrap around him in greeting.

"Why'd you come home with your suit on today?" You asked as you slid the last layer of the top over his head.

"I was already late, I didn't wanna keep waiting," He admitted shyly, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. His torso was bare, and you admired the view as you wrapped your own arms around his neck and kissed him slowly.

"I was worried. You weren't answering your phone." You let him pull you into bed, moving up to lay your head on his chest.

"I know," he sighed heavily. "I don't know where it went. I was chasing after this guy and I realized the time and tried to call you, but it wasn't in my car, and I couldn't just let the guy go, you know?"

"No, I know. Of course." You turned to press a kiss on his chin, admiring the loving look in his eyes as he watched you.

"I should've just come home. You're always more important than my job, baby." He ran his hands through your hair soothingly.

"Your job is important," you assured him, snuggling impossibly closer. "I know you love me. I'm not worried about that, not ever, Bruce."

"I do. So much." He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around your back to pull your chest into his. "Let's get some sleep. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Bruce."