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solelifauna · 2 months ago

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Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 2

Okay, so I didn't realize how much building I was gonna do around (Y/n's) social life so this chapter is honestly about knowing (y/n). Anyways, the next chapter will be from the batfam's pov and focus more on the yandere bits! Hope you enjoy this chapter tho!

Tag List!: @sitepathos @ferakillia @uknowimdumb @shycreatorreview @niggrrooo @dhanyasri @cantfindmelol @space1crow @earth-to-mee @rosecentury @yuyuzi-ling @simpingfor-wakasa @bat1212 @sheepintherain @person-from-daaaa-voidddd @resident-cryptid @cupids-pretty-boy @danni1323

The change started slowly on a normal evening, an evening like every other. It was a football season game day, the big match between the Gotham City High Bats and the Gotham Prep Knights. For the rich prep kids, this was nothing more than another game, but for your school, this game was everything. This would help your school get the recognition and funding it deserves, and allow some students to be scouted and rewarded for their talent.

Not only that, but Gotham Prep always, every season goes to state, beating out all the other public schools in the city. They haven’t lost a game since the early 80s so there was a lot riding on this game.

Your role, funnily enough, was representing the school as one of the Gotham City High school cheerleaders. Turns out that the gymnastics classes you took before were actually useful for purposes other than trying to impress Dick. You surprisingly took to cheerleading like a fish to water, liking the competitiveness and sense of belonging that came from joining the team.

Anyways, you, the cheer team, and the football team were on a bus headed towards the bigger, better Gotham Prep football field. The bus was loud with music and schoolmates hyping each other up for the big game. Ethan, a friend of yours on the football team was nervously shaking his leg and squeezing his helmet so hard you thought it would crack.

Both you and your friend Arya noticed.

“Ethan, the game hasn’t even started yet and I already see a crack forming on your helmet.” You said jokingly, a gentle arm on his shoulder.

He startled, “Jesus Christ (Y/n) warn a guy next time.” Ethan spoke, offering a nervous smile.

“You need to stop freaking out bro. When you do, it freaks out the others on the team.” Arya gently said.

“I know, I know but— but there’s just a lot riding on this game. For a lot of us, this is our only way to get out of Gotham, and if we screw up the finals, we’ll be stuck here forever.” Ethan said solemnly, looking around at all his teammates.

“Well then good thing you guys aren’t gonna lose. Y’all have spent two years training to make this comeback, to make sure that Gotham City High finally gets this win. I promise you’ve worked harder than those assholes at Gotham Prep, so just go out there and put your training to use. Don’t let your nerves get to you, you have no reason to.” You calmly said.

“Yeah—yeah, we have trained harder, haven't we? Yeah, you’re right! We've just gotta go out there and play like we've practiced.” Ethan exclaimed, as if suddenly realizing why he should have confidence in himself and his team.

“Exactly!” Arya said, matching his enthusiasm and hitting Ethan playfully on the shoulder.

The rest of the bus ride to the stadium was louder than ever, the coach and other teammates taking turns to hype up the more nervous members, to get them confident for the field. Everything was about normal once everyone made it to the stadium. The band was set up, and people were flooding the bleachers. It wasn’t until the last ten minutes before the game when normalcy died.

“Hey (Y/n), isn’t that your family?” A girl, Maya, says.

Lo’ and behold, Bruce Wayne and his entire gaggle of children were sitting on the home side of the bleachers, sporting Gotham Prep t-shirts.

“What—oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell are they doing here, they don’t even like football like that!?” You shout in frustration.

It was then when you remembered a conversation Dick, Bruce, and Damian had at the dinner table. Something about how it would help Damian out if he started going to school events and games, getting him acclimated to what being a normal teenager was like. That was all fine and dandy, but you didn't think the entire damn family was going to show up. Oh, the gossip columns are gonna have a field day with this. You could already imagine the headlines, “Bruce Wayne openly isolates daughter (Y/n) Wayne” or even, “The Wayne Family once again publicly shows dislike for daughter (Y/n) Wayne.”

You rolled your eyes at the thought, you had bigger things to worry about right now.

“Are you good (Y/n)?” Arya questions softly.

She was one of the only people who you spoke your sorrows to, one of the only people who actually knows of just how lonely you were. Of course everyone knew that Bruce Wayne and his family didn't really like you very much– thank you Vicky vale– but nobody but Arya and Ethan really understood the crux of your situation.

“Yeah, I'm all good bro, don't worry about it. Just focus on the game.” You said dismissively. It didn't bother you anymore, sure it hurt a little bit, but this was expected.

“Alright, its time to shake hands with the other team, everyone line up!” the football Coach, Coach Daniels, all but yelled.

You sighed, moving to the front of the line for the cheerleaders; you were team captain after all. Both the football teams and cheerleaders made their way to the center of the field where they met. You looked back at the rest of your team, you all knew that this was going to be an unpleasant interaction, it always was. The Gotham Prep cheer captain walked up to you, disdain and poorly concealed disgust on her face. You all quickly shook hands, trying to get this exhausting ordeal done and over with, but of course the other captain had to open her mouth.

“You lower end city girls sure have your own sense of style.” Darla, which was basically code for calling you and your team sluts. Wow, how original.

“You should see what’s underneath the jacket.” You replied, giving her a sharp smile.

She floundered, clearly expecting her insult to rile you and your team up.

“Ugh, as expected of Bruce Wayne’s biggest embarrassment. You sad Daddy doesn't like you? Or maybe she’s just glad she gets to mooch off of him before he ends up disowning her.” Another girl pipes up, drawing mind grating giggles from the rest of their team. You recognized her, she was the daughter of some hot-shot CEO.

You just tiredly look back at your team, a few of them getting angry on your behalf while others looked to you in concern.

“What, not going to say anything?” The other captain haughtily questioned.

“I mean, what exactly is the response you’re expecting? Yeah, Bruce Wayne doesn't like me, but at least I didn't have to buy my way into the cheer team or have my daddy pay to make sure I wasn't held back.” You stated boredly.

She was silent in shock, right before the anger came bursting through.

“You whore! I’m going to fuck you up, take you to court and sue you!” She shrieked.

“You’re going to sue me? You mean sue Bruce Wayne?” You snorted, “Like that’ll ever happen. And bitch, you couldn’t fight if your life depended on it, so next time you threaten me remember–I can and will beat the ever-loving shit outta you.”

That must have sparked some fear in her because she just turned around and led her team back to their side of the field. You’re sure others noticed your altercation, obviously having no idea what was being said, but it was clear to both sides of the field that nothing good was said. You’re ready to turn back to your side when you accidentally make eye contact with Tim. The cold, calculating look in his eyes has you shifting in discomfort, you quickly look away as the cheer team and football players head back to their respective sides.

The players took their place onto the field while your team got into formation.

“Aright guys, this’s the big one! Give it all you got, just like we practiced!” You yelled.

Just like that, the whistle blew signaling that the game started.

By the time you reach half time, Gotham Prep is fifteen points ahead of Gotham High. Your school does its low budget halftime performance which pales in comparison to the extravagant Gotham Prep performance. Your side of the stadium grows louder, louder in support of the football team. Before you know it, the boys are lining up for the second half of the game. Thankfully, Gotham High shoots up in points, the score now becoming 34 to 29. The issue is, the game is starting to come to an end with only two minutes on the clock. The crowd is loud, but everyone knows it'll be damn near impossible for Gotham High to win now. The only way to win would be to score a touch-down, which would bring Gotham High to 35 points.

It isn't until the 36 second mark when Ethan sees an opening and makes a run for it with the ball. The crowd is booming, your own voice adding to the mix of cheers and shouts.

“Come on Ethan! Come on!” You yell, voice undoubtedly hoarse.

There's 5 seconds on the clock when Ethan dives over an opposing player and rolls into the other team's touchdown zone. The score board changes, the numbers now showcasing 34 to 35. Gotham City High with 35. Everyone goes crazy. You and Arya are holding each other jumping up and down. Holy shit, yall won! The football team was celebrating on the field, as they’re announced as the winners, a big trophy being handed into Ethan and his team's hands. And by tradition, you, Arya and the coach go grab the large gatorade barrel and proceed to soak the football team with it. There are yelps and laughs but everyone knows what it means, it means “you’ve won”. You and Arya run up to Ethan launching into him, uncaring of the gatorade now soaking your uniforms.

It was a good day, a happy day. Everyone started loading up into the buses, starving for the victory dinner at Taco Bell. You honestly, truly forget that the Bats were even here. Shit hits the fan however, when you're in the middle of messing up a chalupa and Bruce Wayne and the rest of his brood walk in, making awkward eye contact with you. You promptly proceed to choke, Arya hitting your back to get you to stop. You do, but holy shit was that embarrassing. Also, what in the ever-loving fuck were they doing here!?

Before you could voice your utter disbelief, another familiar face barrels into your table. Oh great.

“Hey ladies, how’d you like the game? Betcha I looked good on the field.” The voice of Adrien, a freshman player on the team, made itself known.

He even made it a point to flex his arm muscles, hoping to impress you and Arya. You both just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. This poor freshman has been trying to get with y'all all year, despite you and Arya being sophomores. His god-awful attempts at flirting were absolutely adorable and downright hilarious.

“Guys please don't laugh, I promise I have better pick up lines.” he begs, his demeanor that of a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry man, you're just too adorable, we can't take you seriously.” Arya says amused.

“Why don't you go talk to one of the freshman cheerleaders? I'm sure I heard Hiba and Darla talking about how good you did on the field.” You pipped in.

“No way! Are you serious!? Oh-uh, gotta blast ladies! See ‘ya around!” Adrien stutters, excitedly scrambling off to go find the girls you mentioned.

You and Arya broke off again into a fit of laughter.

“Were you guys teasing Adrien again?” Comes a lighthearted scold from Ethan.

“Not anymore than usual. Plus, I think we finally got him to pursue girls in his own grade.” You responded, a smug smile on your face.

Ethan just chuckled before sitting down with you and Arya. You all talked and laughed some more, your mood only being slightly soured by the Wayne family’s presence at the table across from yours. You did your best to avoid their not-so-casual glances in your direction. Why they were here is a can of worms you had to marinate on later. But for now, you'd just enjoy the rest of your night.

It didn't take long before everyone started getting ready to leave. Some students had their parents come pick them up, probably to go celebrate the school's victory with their families, whilst everyone else was getting ready to load back up into the buses and head to the school where parents would be waiting for their kids. You, however, would be biking back to the manor on your own. Sure both Arya’s and Ethan’s parents had offered you a ride, but you had declined. There was no need for them to go out of their way for you, especially when they should be spending their time celebrating with their children. You’d honestly just ruin the mood with your shitty circumstances.

So as you threw away the last of your trash and started walking to leave the restaurant, you were not expecting to be stopped, let alone stopped by Bruce Wayne. You froze, not knowing what to do. What did he want?

“(Y/n),” He started, voice lacking any tell-tale emotions, “no need to get on the bus, you’ll be riding home with us.”

You noticed immediately how he didn't really give you a choice, just an order meant to be followed. You swallowed nervously, you did not, under any circumstances want to be in a car with any of them.

“There's no need for that Bruce, I–um actually left my bike back at the school and I can't just leave it there so…yeah. I’ll–I'll see you back at the manor.” You said nervously. You weren't used to talking to him and to be quite frank he scared you.

Bruce of course took note of the fact you had not called him “dad” or “father” and had called home, “the manor” instead. This is when Dick decided to chime in.

“What, you're not going to bike all the way back home, are you?” Dick jested sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah? It's how I get back home everyday.” You mention abashed. Did they seriously not even know how you got home? Whatever, you’re too tired for this.

Bruce and Dick glance at each other, their shared look holding a meaning you couldn't understand.

“Well, it doesn't matter. You��ll just ride home with us from now on.” Dick stated, faux cheer in his voice.

“Wha–what? Hold up, I can’t just leave without my bike! It’s gonna get stolen or–”

“We’ll get a new one, now stop fussin' and get a move on,” Jason grumbles, cutting you off.

You just sigh in defeat. Why the hell are they doing this? Why now? In the end, your questions don't matter as you get marched over to the waiting Rolce Royce Limo. That was when Arya and Ethan noticed you walking away from the bus, not even noticing the Waynes in their hurry to catch up to you.

“Hey (Y/n), why are ‘ya–oh.” Arya yells out before going silent after noticing the intimidating figure of Bruce Wayne and the even more intimidating figure of Jason Todd.

“Oh, hey guys. So–uh, I actually have a ride back to the manor now so I'm all good.” You say awkwardly.

“That's–that's great! But, what about your bike bro?” Ethan questions worriedly, the awkward and almost tense energy affecting him.

“I'm just going to pray and hope that it's still there when I come back for it tomorrow.”You answer tiredly.

“Damn, well, get home safe and get some sleep. We’ll see you soon girl.” Arya says, hugging you.

You hug her back.

“You too guys, get home safe. And Ethan, good job on the field bro, we’re all super proud of you.” You voice, a small smile on your face while you give him a hug.

“Thanks (Y/n), couldn't have done it without y’all hyping me up.” He says.

“Alright, alright no more sappy, corny lines. Now get on the bus before Coach Daniels pops another blood vessel.” You joke.

“Shit, I didn't even realize that was him yelling! Ethan, we gotta go! See ya (Y/n).” Arya exclaims, practically dragging Ethan to the bus with her.

You wave at them, your smile slowly disappearing as you realize you're about to have the worst fifteen minutes of your life on this car ride. The staring you were trying to ignore when talking to your friends was more prevalent now, making you anxious as you entered the car, squirming and fiddling uncomfortably in your seat as everyone else piled in.

You internally sighed as you heard the door shut and the car engine start. Perhaps it’d be better if you drank acid and died instead, but alas, it was too late for any of that.

You’d just do your best to stay quiet and avoid the eyes boring into your very being.

#yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #platonic yandere #neglected reader #neglect #yandere Stephanie brown #batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfamily x neglected reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago

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count on your courage

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is what makes you brave'

rated t | 1,508 words | cw: coming out (one goes horribly wrong offscreen, one goes perfectly right), steve gets kicked out | tags: wayne munson is the best uncle, secret relationship, steve has bad parents, hurt/comfort, wayne adopts steve

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Steve should've gone to Robin's probably.

But when you're in a state of shock after being kicked out of your house because your dad found a handwritten love note from your boyfriend, you don't always think clearly.

He was sitting outside the trailer, on the gravel driveway, rocks digging into his ass and thighs, thinking about how uncomfortable the back seat of his car was for sleeping. He managed to grab his sandwich bag of savings, which was barely enough for a motel for a couple of weeks, but maybe he'd find a place that would be more understanding.

After Vecna, most places were open to any arrangement on payment as long as they got something.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice filtered to him from the front door of the trailer.

It wasn't until he heard Eddie's voice that he realized Wayne's truck was parked next to Eddie's van, which meant Wayne was home, which meant Wayne would be confused as hell.

Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, worried and tugging him out of his own thoughts.

"Hey," Steve said.

"What're you doin' here, Stevie? You said you weren't comin' over because you have an early shift tomorrow," Eddie's eyes were wide, and Steve realized he must assume there's an emergency.

"Oh. I did say that." Steve sighed. "I actually don't know why I came here."

"Shit, Steve. Did you hit your head? Is it...you know?"

"No. To both. Just-" Steve didn't want to alarm him, but he did have to say what was going on. "My parents kicked me out. Well, my dad did. My mom just kinda...let him?"

"What? Jesus Christ, Stevie. Come inside, you're shivering," Eddie pulled him up so he was standing awkwardly in front of him. "How long have you been out here?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. Which was true. He knew his parents got home around five, and his dad had stormed out of his office around six, yelling about Steve's belongings being where they shouldn't be. It didn't take long after that for all hell to break loose. "What time is it now?"

Eddie looked down at his watch. "A little after nine."

"Huh. I guess close to two hours."

Eddie cussed under his breath, then wrapped an arm around Steve's waist.

It's not like they had to worry about being seen; What used to be a full trailer park now mostly consisted of the Munson's new trailer and Max's trailer that was only inhabited for a few hours a night, if that.

"Ed? Everthin' okay?" Wayne called from the porch.

Steve looked up, panicked.

It's not that he hadn't been around Wayne plenty of times, especially while Eddie was in the hospital. He'd run into him a few times at the trailer as he passed through the kitchen to pack his lunch for work or when he was heading to bed when Steve was picking Eddie up for work.

It was more like he felt like everything was written clear across his face, and if Wayne found out about him, he'd find out about Eddie, and what if he kicked Eddie out?

They couldn't both be homeless.

Eddie didn't verbally respond, but he must have done something to let Wayne know everything wasn't okay.

"C'mon in then," he gestured, opening the front door for them both to walk through. "Get that blanket off my chair for him."

Steve didn't know why he needed a blanket, it's not like it was even cold.

But as he was gently pushed down onto the couch, he noticed how much he actually was shivering, and realized he must've forgotten his jacket in his haste to leave his house. It wasn't winter, but the chill in at night was too much to be outside without a jacket.

The blanket was soft, and smelled a lot like Wayne's cologne, the one he insisted he didn't wear, but Steve could always smell just a hint of it lingering in the air after he left the room. It was a comforting smell, one he'd gotten used to in the background. One he'd come to associate with Eddie, and calm, and home.

He could hear Wayne and Eddie whispering by the kitchen counter, but couldn't quite focus on the words they were saying.

Wayne sat down across from him, right on the coffee table, like it wasn't a piece of furniture specifically designed for holding things that were never touched. Eddie sat down next to him, leaving no space, and no way to mistake how close they were.

He tried to scoot away, just leave a few inches of space so Wayne wouldn't question it. Eddie's hand on his knee stopped him.

"You wanna tell me about what's going on?" Wayne asked softly.

"I'm fine-"

"I didn't ask if you were fine. I asked if you wanted to tell me what was goin' on." Wayne's voice was gruff, but his face was open, his body leaning in closer to them so he could listen to what Steve had to say. "You ain't gotta tell me everythin', but if you're gonna be stayin', I'd like to know why you look scared outta your mind."

Eddie's hand moved to his back, rubbing in circles, comforting. "It's okay, sweetheart."

Wayne didn't even flinch at the pet name.

Maybe he was just used to Eddie being a bit too loose with his words, or maybe he actually knew.

"My parents um," Steve silently asked Eddie for permission to say more. Eddie nodded. "They found a note from Eddie to me. And they figured out some stuff about um..."

"It's alright. He knows about me," Eddie said softly.

"Go on, kid," Wayne said.

"They found out that he's my boyfriend from the note, and they didn't want their letdown of a son in their house anymore. I had to grab what I could in just a couple minutes and get out."

Wayne's hand rested on his knee now. "Thanks for tellin' me, son."

Steve broke.

The tears came so quickly, so viciously, he couldn't breathe. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, pulled him tight to his chest.

Wayne's hand was on his back, an extra comforting weight as he let the events of the evening sink in.

His parents didn't love him, didn't want him, didn't even care to hear about how lucky he was to finally have someone who got him.

But Wayne was here, showing him acceptance.

Eddie was here, holding him and loving him through this.

And when Robin heard, she'd be by his side, making threats that would make him laugh.

Eventually, he would tell the others, maybe even Hopper.

But for now, he held the courage Eddie gave him close to his chest, used this as a practice run.

"I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate. You got any stuff in your car to bring in?" Wayne asked.

"Just one bag."

"We'll get it in the mornin'. You can borrow some of Ed's clothes tonight. And you let me worry about gettin' your stuff. Me and Jim can handle it." Wayne stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. "And Steve?"

"Yeah?" he pulled away to wipe his eyes and look at Wayne, who was smiling at him.

"I don't expect ya to pay rent, but I do expect ya to help with chores. Your days for dishes can be Mondays and Thursdays and you'll be in charge of groceries one week a month. Sound okay to you?"

He blinked back at Wayne, confused.

"You can share a room with Eds, but remember the walls are thin."

"Wayne!" Eddie choked out.

Steve laughed, genuinely happy on a night when he was sure he'd be miserable for days to come. "We'll behave."

Wayne knocked once on the doorway and walked out of sight.

Steve turned to Eddie and kissed him once on the lips, a quick peck.

"You okay with me living here? Wayne kinda just invited me without talking to you," Steve felt himself blush.

"I want you to be safe and happy, right here with me. With us. If that's what you want."

"Yeah. I want that," Steve rested his head against Eddie's shoulder and sighed. "I'm tired."

"You were brave tonight. Takes a lot outta ya." Eddie kissed the top of his head. "I should know by now that I can always count on your courage, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Took me three years to admit to Wayne that I was gay. Took you three minutes," Eddie let out a quiet laugh. "You amaze me."

"You're being sappy," Steve said into his shirt.

"Let me be a little sappy."

Steve could hear the words he wasn't saying, had felt them plenty of times over the last couple of weeks, maybe months. The 'I love you' that was hidden under sappy words, hidden under the blanket wrapped around him being adjusted by worried hands, hidden in hands that were always touching him to remind him he wasn't alone.

They might be hidden now, but they wouldn't be for long.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is what makes you brave #coming out #secret relationship #hurt/comfort #wayne munson #steve has bad parents

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steviewashere · 7 months ago

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Balls in Laundry Baskets: An Apology

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Bitchy/Mean Steve Harrington, Mean Eddie Munson (Both Briefly and For Good Reason) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Friendship, Eddie Munson Gets Put in His Place, Lucas Sinclair is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Protective Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Lucas Sinclair, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Means Well He's Just Defensive, Hurt People Hurt Others

This is chapter one, which also includes the first two pages that I already posted. Please keep your expectations low, as I'm still working on the second and final chapter.

Read on AO3

Read Chapter Two Read Chapter Three (Final)

🏀—————🏀 “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he’s been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

“That’s what I thought,” Lucas says, “and I know, I know, that Dustin and Mike tried everything in their power. And that Eddie was the one to, y’know, be the asshole. But I thought that maybe my friends would be on my side. That they’d skip the game, show Eddie up. Not get my little sister involved or have fun without me or…I don’t know.” And the way he says those last three words stings something acidic inside of Steve. Corrosion and battery acid hot and alive in his stomach. Anger reaching the surface of his skin, words crawling and resonating in his mouth.

The doors to the school open distantly and Lucas suddenly perks back up, blossoming from where he was wilted against Steve’s car. “Doesn’t matter,” he chirps, though it’s all fake, “at least I can play with them now, which is awesome.”

But before he can stride away, to where his bike is parked and locked up, Steve snakes a hand onto Lucas’s wrist. They lock eyes again. “I’ll talk to him,” Steve swears, “he’ll apologize.”

“Steve, you don’t—“

“You used sports as a means to fit in, right? Granted, popularity’s not all that cool and you know that especially now. But it was a…a—“ He snaps his fingers, searching for the word. “—A cover, something to find security in. And you had that. And that’s what the D&D game is to Eddie. Sports is my D&D, too.” He loosens his grip on Lucas’s arm. Neither make any sort of move. “Just because you were trying to find your people doesn’t mean you can be…” He chooses his next words carefully. “Ostracized or outcast by those who you found safety with before. Especially when those guys orbit around each other for the same reason. I’ll talk to him,” he urges, “and he will apologize, or else.”

Lucas gives him a softened look. “Thanks, Steve,” he mutters, “I wasn’t looking to start anything, but I appreciate you having my back. It really means a lot.” And then he shuffles away, towards his bicycle, small chat starting up with Mike and Dustin.

When Steve turns back towards the school, Eddie is sauntering towards him. Eyes wide. Smile big and easy. Yet, his soft features are all too nauseating to Steve’s chest right now. His heart aches. If Eddie thinks of Lucas’s interests that way, what does he think of mine?

He tamps down his annoyance and anger. Because Eddie takes his hand and is looking at him as if the world belongs to the two of them. But that hurt on Lucas’s face is like a dagger impaled in his brain when Eddie greets nice and low, “Hi, baby. Been thinking about you the entire time I was in there.”

Steve smiles, though it may come off as more of a grimace with how Eddie falters. “Been thinking about you, too,” he echoes. Though, thinking positively isn’t what he’s been doing, as far as anybody’s concerned. Beat around the bush, he tells himself. He takes a steadying breath, posture straightening, demeanor changing. Says with a sour tone, “I, uh, I think we need to have a little talk in the car, if that’s okay? It’s not a breakup thing, but it might make you…somebody might get mad and I don’t want to cage you in at my house.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. His eyes go distant very briefly. When he refocuses on Steve, something has hardened in his features. Steve’s throat goes tight. “It can’t wait until after our date night?” There’s a low amount of ire in his words already and Steve is momentarily caught in it. Until he lets his eyebrows scrunch down his face again, giving in to that tightness in his throat.

He sighs, annoyed already. “No, Eddie,” he bites without meaning to. “I need to talk to you now. I’m already upset about it and it’s not going to do me any good to just brush it off.” His hand releases from Eddie’s grip, falling heavy against his side. He turns towards his driver’s side door and stares back at where Eddie is rooted. “Come on,” he states lowly, “you were the one to tell me to talk about the shit that’s bothering me. Can’t ignore it just because it has to do with you.”

Bitchy is probably not the best approach to all of this, but Steve is already cornered out of options. He pulls his door open with more force than necessary. Slides into his seat, key into the ignition, and honks once at Eddie. Jarringly gestures at the passenger seat. Thankfully, there’s nobody else to witness the potential torrential fire that’s brewing in him. It’ll be just the two of them; though that realization stirs something sickly in Steve’s stomach.

Eddie gets in silently. Places his school bag in the footwell. And keeps his face pointed out the windshield. “What’s wrong?” He asks, though his voice is devoid and edging on irritated.

Steve rolls his eyes, though Eddie can’t see him. He sets his hands firmly on his steering wheel. Squeezes the leather for comfort, an instinct. And heaves a sigh, urging himself to be calmer about this. “I had a talk with Lucas,” he starts. “About, uh, about his championship game back in March.”

Next to him, Eddie immediately tenses.

He continues without acknowledgement. Keeps himself as leveled as possible. “He told me that you refused to move your game for his. That he was looking forward to having his friends, which I’m assuming includes you, watch him play. And I—I know how important that championship game was to him. Y’know, it’s one of the bigger—“

“Are you mad because I didn’t want to sit at some jock event?” Eddie interrupts, question clipped. Though there’s also mild amusement in his tone, as if Steve being upset is poposterous. He continues without any regard for Steve. “In a room full of, mind you, people who hate me?”

Steve tenses more than Eddie had. His shoulders hiking and his stomach knotting impossibly more. Finally lets the dog bark, gives in to whatever it wants. “You know what, Eddie?” He bitches back. “I am mad at you. In fact, I…I…I’m so fucking angry that you…you make this whole deal about ‘lost sheep’ and herding them in to play your game. You concern yourself with making a community for people who are lost to the crowd of cliques in that school. And it’s just—Lucas is one of those kids! He is, even if that means he wants to play basketball!”

The passenger seat squeaks. Clothes rustling as Eddie turns toward him. But Steve doesn’t rip his eyes from the windshield. If anything, he leans more towards the left, creating a deeper, larger space between them. His hands instinctively tighten on the steering wheel again.

“Yeah, I do pride myself on that,” Eddie spits. “I do. Which is why, honestly, it irks me that Lucas would pick a crowd full of assholes. A bunch of people who would never give him the time of day.”

Steve goes rigid at that. He was an asshole, too. He knows that. Eddie especially knows that. The Munson Doctrine wouldn’t exist without the inclusion of asshole jocks, Steve being near the top of the list. He tries to tell himself that Eddie doesn’t think of him that way, but it’s hard considering himself. Who he used to be. Instead, he takes another breath, this one longer and hopefully more steadying than the other ones have been.

“He went out for basketball for a sense of security,” Steve states slowly, verging on impatient. “To find somewhere to belong to. That’s all a freshman looks for—a group to be somebody with. And, you know, considering that he’s already sort of singled out for being one of a few black kids at the school…Belonging is kind of important to him.” He settles back into his seat, arms still stretched to their full length in front of him. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing. And why won’t Eddie just get this? “Even if the basketball team has a bunch of assholes, he still wanted to do it. He was celebrated for his skills, who he is—even if it was for a moment. Playing was, and probably still is, important to him. And you—“ Steve finally turns his head towards Eddie. Knows his eyes are shooting daggers, can see where they lodge themselves between Eddie’s ribs. He raises a finger and accuses, “—you made his game feel unimportant. None of his best friends came because they were toopreoccupied with your game.” His face grows unusually hot as his voice drags passionately. The words just tumbling, splattering between them. But he carries on like a fire fed, “They even got his little sister to play yourgame. And, you know what really hurt to hear? Lucas wanted at least Erica to watch. And she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there because of your game, Eddie. How do you think that looks to him?”

Eddie has the audacity to look cowed, appalled. His mouth agape and his eyes as two large craters on his face. And for the first time, probably ever, he is stunned into silence.

Steve looks away. Bitter. All that festers in him now is hurt, ache, sadness. He chews on his lip, inhales softly through his nose, and opens his mouth with a silent word. Finally, he murmurs, “When I came to the high school as a freshman, I did the exact same thing as Lucas did. I joined the basketball team. Not because I was good. Or because my dad forced me to, like everybody seems to think. It’s because I wanted to fit in.”

His eyes are stinging. Cheeks flushing even more with overwhelming, consuming emotion. Continues, “And, though I let the feeling eat away at me, it felt good to be protected by a camaraderie like that. Outside of the nerdy friend group I had in middle school, going into high school. It felt good. And—It’s not the same as why Lucas joined, I know that, but I can understand.

“On top of that, I never had friends or family members show up for me at my games. So, for me to know the hurt Lucas feels, that would be an understatement. What’s important to note, though, is that he had people in his life to be there for him and they didn’t show. They didn’t.”

The fight is draining out of him, but he has to solidify his point. Has to finish this or else. Thinks briefly that maybe he should quit while he’s ahead, but he can’t make himself do that. The ferocity engulfing him from the inside out all too much to ignore. He’s been beaten down before for Lucas, literally—oh so literally—but he’d do it again and again and again for that kid to find his footing. Including this…spat? One sided argument? This argument with his boyfriend.

“Even I was there,” he says, hollowly, “cheering him on. It just would’ve been nice, for him, to have more than just some washed up, ex-jock, nobody be there. Right? I’m sure you get where I’m coming from. You can understand what I’m saying.” He glances forlorn out his window. Can’t even muster the courage to look over at Eddie. He’s basically drained himself. Being vulnerable isn’t his forte, but he can be for the people around him. Even if it’s at the expense of his own well being. “Well, I thought you’d understand. Wanting to have a community, people to lean on, to make something of yourself. No matter the means. I just didn’t think you’d be part of the reason that Lucas feels so…so singular.”

He takes a deep breath, ignoring how nasally it is to his ears. And mutters, a final thing, “I didn’t think you viewed something that Lucas and I are into as so…nothing. I try my best to be better about what you like, but it seems that you don’t make that same effort. That’s not fair, Eddie. You should know that.”

Without much else to say and with Eddie’s eerie silence, he starts the car. Puts it into drive. And peels away into the silence of the long and stretching road.

Briefly, he thinks about turning on the radio or cranking down the window, but the air is too thick to move through. Even the slight turns of his steering wheel is enough to make him feel sick. He’s sick with how disgustingly to-the-point he had to be. Though, there’s no other way that Eddie would’ve listened. Not with how defensive he immediately got.

The original date night plan had been to go to his house, but he finds himself pulling into Forest Hills’ driveway. Past the dimly lit trailers and the striking quietness of Max’s home. He parks in the vacant spot next to Eddie’s van. Which, the van is broken down right now—the main reason Steve is even driving Eddie around. But, now what? Is Eddie mad at how mad Steve was? Is he going to realize that he doesn’t like Steve because of his interests, who he is? Is this it?

A gentle anxious thrum runs through Steve like the very blood he needs to exist.

He silences the car. And just sits with his hands in his lap. Looking blankly at Eddie’s front door.

“Your stop,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs heavily through his nose. But he doesn’t make a move to open his door. To step out. To walk away from��all that Steve is and has been.

Steve turns to him, gestures loosely at the Munson’s. “Your stop,” he reiterates.

“I—“ Eddie musters, voice croaking and rough. “I didn’t realize that…I didn’t know Lucas was mad about that. I didn’t think it…mattered.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Steve bitterly states, “It’s not like you actually cared.”

“But I do,” Eddie insists, “I care so much about Lucas. And I care so much about you. I swear!” He finally moves, tossing himself in the seat to face Steve, flailing. His face a mournful thing, downturned and sad. Skin pale and his hands desperate and his voice urgent. “There’s no excuse, I know. But I just…The reason I look at jocks so awfully is because they’ve always turned on me, you know? They always downplay my interests and mock me and tease me for what I like. Which is why I have to show myself as the bigger guy, that I can take it. I just didn’t realize that I was doing it, too.”

Slowly, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. Fingers tightening over his biceps. “Real life and your friends are more important than biases, Eddie.”

“I see that now.”

“And I think that you…you love me? And that you like Lucas. But it’s just hard to feel that, for either of us, when you adamantly refuse to involve yourself in our interests. Even if it means attending some jock event. Even if it means sitting in a room full of people that hate you. Which, by the way, that isn’t true because Lucas and I both like you—I love you, even.” He faces Eddie again. His face a sure thing of great ache, based on Eddie’s own crestfallen eyes. “Maybe just…give us space for a couple days? Think about this. Apologize once you’ve given it some thought. I understand where the whole hating jocks thing comes from, but just think about how that hurts, too.”

Eddie takes a gasping breath. “But I’m sorry now, Stevie,” he swears, “I am. I’m so sorry.”

There’s part of those words that soothe Steve like aloe to a sunburn, but he can’t accept them. Knows that the sure sting of the burn will still be there if he lets Eddie do this now. So he collects himself, mulls the words, and defends himself—for once. “I’ll accept that when it doesn’t feel like you’re saying it just to make me feel better. I want you to mean it. And I want you to apologize to Lucas first.”

He watches Eddie nod fervently, sharply. His hands twisting together in his lap and his eyes wetting, shoved harshly to the side. “Yeah, okay,” his voice trembles, “okay, I’ll fix this.”

Carefully, Steve takes Eddie’s hands. Tugs them until Eddie looks at him. Involuntarily, he makes a soft, sympathetic noise. It’s clear in the wetness of Eddie’s eyes that he’s determined to change this, to make this better. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to hurt this severely. He presses deep into the back of Eddie’s hands, tethering himself down to the earth, away from the cloud of anger that threatens to swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “listen to me, baby. I know that you’re sorry. I know, okay? But Lucas won’t know that, he’ll probably think you’re saying it to get on his good side. And…maybe you are, a bit, but it’ll be better if you really mean it. Trust me.” He swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s knuckles, massages them to ease the tension. “I still love you. I’m still learning, too, to love your interests with my full heart. And I know that it’s hard to let go of stupid biases, but you’ll be better for it. You will, Eds, and you’ll find you actually feel good.” Steve runs his hands up Eddie’s arms, to his shoulders, the sides of his neck.

Gently, he cups Eddie’s face between his hands. Presses his thumbs underneath Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie softens, loosening. Breathes slowly onto Steve’s wrists. “I’ll make this right, Steve,” he promises quietly, “I want to love both of you guys right.”

“I believe you,” he whispers in turn, “you’re a good guy, Eddie. You’ve got a good soul and a good heart. But you just need to relearn some things, baby.” He leans in, softly pecks the soft tissue of Eddie’s facial scar, and pulls away. Reaches up and runs a hand through the wiry ends of Eddie’s curls. Finds that he does mean the softness in his words, even with the bitter edge in his chest. He murmurs, “Let’s cool off tonight, because I know we’re both upset. And we’ll reconvene in a couple days, after my shift. I’ll help you come up with a good apology, promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, sniffling.

“I love you,” he feels the need to remind.

“I love you, too, Stevie. And I mean that. I really do.”

🏀—————🏀

Taglist (Open For Chapter Two): @wonderland-girl143-blog @tinyplanet95 @sharingisntkaren @ghostquer @practicallybegging @croatoan-like-its-hot @reinedslys-central

#stranger things #Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #angst and hurt/comfort #Eddie Munson & Lucas Sinclair

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starstruckmoony · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! May I request a muggle AU with Theodore, with this meet-cute prompt: "they're on opposite sides of a wedding party to the bride and groom" (prompt is from @/thewritersafterglow on Instagram). Thank you! I know this request is in good hands :)

aaaaaa thank you anon! <3 this is the first request i've got in a while (again tysm it made me very very happy <3<3) and i had lots of fun writing it so i hope it meets your expectations!

can't help falling in love.

masterlist , requests

pairing - theodore nott x reader

trope/tags - muggle!au, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff (side note - this isn't particularly realistic because i don't really know how weddings work in different parts of the world, so i kind of just went by how they function in my country and some bits and pieces i've managed to pick up from movies and such. i know it probably won't be accurate for everybody but i tried my best LMAO)

word count - 3k

warnings - language, drinking, smoking, cheesy at the end

when you recieved an envelope in your mail one fine morning in late may, you never would have expected it to be an invitation to your primary school classmate's wedding in the english countryside. you could still recall the wonderful memory of choking on your coffee and scaring the life out of your poor cat when you saw her name plastered in big letters in the center of the paper, right below a picture of her and her fiancé. it was a miracle how she remembered you existed. to be frank, you were kind of honoured, and you made sure to confirm your arrival almost immediately. hell yeah, you were coming. free food and alcohol? who in the right mind would pass on that?

so about three months later, sometime in mid-august, you found yourself inside of a crowded venue, sweating buckets in your silky green dress, without a fan, or anybody to keep you company. a few of your old classmates were there too, but not a single one of them bothered to offer you a greeting. what a bunch of arseholes.

you stood leaned against the wall in the very back where there were fewer people, attempting to cool yourself down by fanning the air around you with your hands as you waited for the godforsaken ceremony to finally start. to nobody's surprise, the bride was a little late, and the groom's family was in a mild state of disarray. it was kind of funny, but not as funny as it would have been if you weren't feeling so bloody hot. do they not have air conditioning in here? how do people get married in these conditions? and why does the best man look more terrified than the groom?

the loud sound of somebody's shoes scraping against the tiles right next to you shook you right out of your train of thought, and you placed your hand against your chest in horror, "jesus christ." you muttered under your breath, the unfamiliar man attempting to catch his breath scared the life out of you.

he glanced at you for a split second, appearing rather exhausted (aftermath of sleeping through five alarms and having to run to the venue because his friends were too lazy to wait for him), "sorry." he offered you an apology breathlessly, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. you thought that you were being overdramatic when it came to the heat and the current atmosphere of the wedding, but this man seemed to have surpassed you. he was rather handsome though, despite being drenched in sweat from what you assumed was running, also paired with the humid air inside. his eyes were strangely captivating, and he looked a little too good in that suit of his for it to be considereded legal. were you staring? you were probably staring. you trailed your eyes away, pretending to be entertained by the groom's father who was attempting to explain the situation to the guests. you cursed inwardly, realising that you'd be stuck in there for a long time.

you turned to the pretty guy again, deciding that you should, perhaps, talk to him, "you don't look like you wanna be here." fantastic start. those probably weren't the words he wished to hear in those circumstances, but your observations didn't seem to annoy him at all. he actually chuckled instead, "am i that transparent?"

"quite." you responded a little too nonchalantly than intended, taking a quick glance at the door in hopes that you'll see the bride come in. nope. you returned to your original position. how wonderful that was, more waiting.

"do you have any water in there?" the man spoke again, pointing at the purse you had tucked under your arm.

you took it in your hands and peeked inside, knowing that you most likely wouldn't have what he was asking for, "no," you shook your head, but continued rummaging through it, "i have this, though." you pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor and shrugged before shoving it into his face.

he didn't hesitate to grab it, he would have taken anything that was liquid enough. he drank it all, not that there was much, before handing the bottle back to you with a scowl. he coughed a little as the alcohol burned his throat, and you couldn't help but snort.

"i don't know how smart that was." it wasn't, really, since it would only dehydrate him more, but it worked for the time being. he coughed again, falling back against the wall, finally able to breathe somewhat normally.

"you'll find out in a few hours," you didn't miss the smile that painted his features, and it encouraged you to carry on, "how do you know the bride... or the groom?" you questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going to kill at least some of the remaining time you had. you were bored out of your mind.

"the groom," he nodded briefly, "we went to college together, funny bloke, he invited me and my two other friends who are... somewhere in here," he stretched his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd for a short moment, "eh, whatever." he shrugged, and then reached into his pocket, but quickly retrieved his hand. it was still empty. you had assumed he reached for a cigarette before he was able to remember where he was.

"you won't go looking for them?" you queried, finding his neutrality over the whole situation slightly bemusing. it wasn't every day that a hot guy like him ditched his friends for you, and it was rather pleasant to think about. he was hoping he wasn't being so obvious about it, but you read him a little too easily.

"what, bored of me already?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"i might be, now that you said that." you scowled in pretend disgust, drawing a breathless laugh from him. you shortly sunk into a not overly uncomfortable silence, both internally debating with yourselves about whether you should keep it going or not. you were kind of drawn to each other, after all. the consequence of attending a wedding without a date must have had an influence on it, you told yourself. he mustered a similar, lame explanation.

"i'm theodore, by the way." he decided to break the ice after a while, and you almost sighed in relief, "y/n." you shook his hand politely.

"nice wedding." he added, his face scrunching at the sight before him. the sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

"delightful, isn't it?" you offered the older lady that passed by you a forced smile, and then eyed her giant pink hat judgementally. you and theodore resembled a mean high school couple who had an opinion on absolutely anyone and everything, just standing there, laughing amongst yourselves and making fun of all the other guests and their stupid pastel outfits. it made sense why your classmates hadn't approached you, but you didn't let them occupy your mind any longer. you found yourself a like-minded companion for the night, one that was ten times funnier, and the prime example of eye-candy.

"imagine she never shows up." theodore said after you shamelessly fed one another with some interesting past gossip about the bride and the groom. judging by what he had told you, those two were a match made in heaven. and you could say that with your whole chest.

"god, don't plant that idea into my head. i spent my last three paychecks on this bloody dress." you snorted, dusting it off when you noticed that it had got a bit dirty.

"it looks perfect on you, though." theodore's little compliment took you off guard, and he must have noticed judging by the way he grinned.

"thanks." you felt yourself blush a little at his comment, and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, the bride's mother burst through the door, announcing that her daughter would be there shortly. you exchanged a relieved glance with theodore, fucking finally.

despite the long wait, the ceremony played out quite beautifully. the couple exchanged their vows, humourous and tear-jerking all at once. people laughed, people cried, somebody's baby did both. the best man hadn't forgotten to bring the rings, and the maid of honour looked happier for the bride than the bride. nobody backed out last moment, and nobody objected after the infamous "speak now or forever hold your peace". you left the venue with a smile on your face, pleasantly surprised.

theodore and his friends offered to give you a ride to an even larger venue where the reception was being held after you told them that you had arrived with a cab, and you happily accepted their offer. the two idiots he came with were just as unserious as he was, and you had soon found out that they all attended the wedding with the same intentions as you. eat food, get drunk (and then sleep in the car because mattheo wants to get wasted but doesn't want to run them off the road and kill somebody in the process).

the reception, thankfully, moved a lot faster than the ceremony. by some sheer dumb luck, you had been instructed to sit at the same table as theodore, lorenzo and mattheo. your shitty classmates were there too, so you assumed that the table was designed specifically for that - old friends from school that the newly weds didn't talk to very much, but still liked them enough to invite them.

so, after the grand entrance, loud clapping and cheering, a cute speech from the bride, more clapping and cheering, the best dinner you had had in a while, a few more emotional speeches, and even more clapping and cheering (hollering this time, too), the dj finally showed up. it was the part of the night you had been the most excited for. the first dance was absolutely beautiful and even brought a few tears to your eyes, but god, the moment you heard an onset of lower-than-nightclub-quality music blast from the speakers, your hopes had all gone down the drain.

the dance floor filled up in a matter of seconds, and you had never been more appreciative of the existence of wine. not a single song that was played in the span of fourty-five minutes was your cup of tea. and as different people's requests kept incoming, it only got worse.

theodore seemed to be having the same problem. mattheo too, considering he had about five shots in less than half an hour. lorenzo wasn't doing much better either. he was entertaining himself by making paper planes out of tissue paper and leaving them on the table like a strange art project.

"this music is terrible." theodore's voice was completely drowned out by the godawful sounds coming from the speakers, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying.

"what?!" you shifted a bit closer to him, covering one of your ears with your palm to subdue at least some of the noise.

"i said that this music was terrible!" he tried not to shout, but it would have been impossible for you to comprehend whatever he had said if he hadn't done so. yes, it was fucking awful. many people would disagree, considering how many of them were still on the dance floor, either fully wasted already or slowly getting there. at least the newly weds were having a good time, both slightly tipsy too.

"tell me about it!" you yelled back, rolling your eyes. you considered asking him to accompany you outside, for a smoke or something, though you didn't really need an excuse. anywhere would have been better than in there. but you chickened out before you were able to speak, continuing to sip on your wine in silence. silence, that was funny, mostly because of how unbearably bloody loud the music was.

lorenzo suddenly stood up, and he yelled something into mattheo's ear. the other stared at him in confusion, and then burst out laughing into his face. he turned to you instead, and you saw his lips move, but didn't understand a thing he was saying.

"huh?!" you and theo yelled out in unison, and lorenzo waved his hands dismissively at you, defeated. he pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and shuffled over to the dj. he threw an arm around the man, probably trying to make some friendly conversation. they seemed to be getting along.

perfect. you reached for the wine bottle, refilling your glass and taking large gulp. you were hoping that lorenzo had enough charm to sway the dj into playing something else. it took about twenty minutes of insignficant chit-chat for the man to finally nod and give him a thumbs up, and that's then the beginning of dancing queen blessed your tortured ears.

you gasped in shock, immediately getting up onto your feet and latching onto theodore's arm. he didn't really protest when you tugged at his sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor which got even more crowded than it was before. mattheo managed to fall out of his chair, but he followed the two of you and joined you in the mass of people.

"thank me later!" lorenzo yelled your way before a pretty girl grabbed his attention. the night got so much better from then on. the dj appeared to have whipped up a large playlist of abba's work, since the songs were playing one after another, each one bringing your mood up. you had completely blocked out anything that had happened before you heard the tune of the first song, and you had only returned to the table with theodore to refill your glasses before running back to the dance floor.

you couldn't recall the last time you had that much fun, singing your heart out, jumping up and down, showing off some ridiculous moves, letting theodore hold your hand and spin you around. the dj stuck to the same genre for a while, playing old pop songs, keeping everybody on their feet. some of them you didn't know, but you weren't about to sit back down after doing so for almost two hours, so you danced to them too nevertheless.

that is, until your legs started hurting a little too much for it to be tolerable and your throat had got a bit sore from belting several songs with the bride. your head was spinning too, courtesy of having so much wine. theodore took the opportunity to ask you to accompany him outside (because he really needed a cigarette) after some slow tune neither of you were familiar with had been put on.

you nodded your head took a hold of his hand as he led you out the door. you clumsily made your way down the stairs, laughing as you did so. the effects of alcohol were beginning to show themselves.

as fun as it was, getting out of there for a short while was a need. you slumped down onto one of the stone benches placed outside the venue, sighing comfortably as the chilly breeze of the night cooled you down.

you immersed yourself into another casual discussion, not a very significant one, as neither of you could even stand properly for too long without stumbling, but it was nice breather from the wild atmosphere inside. you liked talking to theodore, and even with your clouded thoughts, you knew you'd want to see him again after this. there wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"i thought i'd have to leave early." theodore laughed to himself as he took the last drag from his cigarette, and then tossed the burnt out stub onto the concrete.

"and make me stay here all alone?" you teased, although you probably would have left too if it wasn't for lorenzo and his skillful flirtation tactics or whatever the hell that was.

"who said i wouldn't bring you along?" his response made heat rush to your cheeks, and you put your head down with a breathless chuckle. you were quiet for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts.

"you know, this might sound a little weird, but," you chewed on the inside of your cheek, not really able to think straight. you were tipsy, after all, "i'm glad i met you today," you tilted your head to the side, drunkenly observing him, "you're nicer than i anticipated." as backhanded as it sounded, that was the best you could do.

it was theodore's turn to blush after you said the words, and it didn't manage to go past you, despite him trying his hardest to hide it.

"yeah, i mean no– it's not weird, i'm uh," he trailed off, contemplating whatever it was that he wanted to say next. honestly speaking, he didn't know how to put it into words, "i'm glad we met too, you're–"

one thing that theodore hated was tripping over his words and not being able to be blunt with somebody he took a liking to, which is why he was so, very grateful to hear elvis' can't help falling in love coming from the inside of the venue.

you looked up at him when you realised which song it was, waiting to see if he'll ask you to dance. and he did, but he didn't lead you back in through the door like you thought he might. you stayed outside in the light wind, slowly swaying to the music, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck.

you liked it better that way, just the two of you in your own little world with nobody else to disrupt you. you let your head rest on his shoulder, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit, like he was making sure you won't leave him. you smiled to yourself, god, that was the last thing you were planning on doing.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fanfiction #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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ivorsblocksleeve · 3 months ago

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the mcsm fandom fuckin sucks dude

As a long time member of the furry, danganronpa, and BNHA fandom im not the type of person who likes to generalize entire fandoms based off of experiences i hear about or have with other people in said fandoms. but the MCSM fandom is such a filthy stain on the internet and so many people in the community have gotten WAY out of hand. the constant racism and whitewashing of characters. people publicly talking about NSFW topics in numerous discord servers that have children in them, sometimes with people under 13 years old. the ridiculous amount of drama surrounding character headcanons among other things. its RIDICULOUS

im a black guy. i can care less about the "issue of blackwashing", it does not exist and never has existed. i care a LOT about the whitewashing in this community. there are multiple jesse skins for a reason, to represent a ton of different peoples races! red suspenders jesse is literally WHITE! if you want to draw white jesse draw HIM! why are people whitewashing the other jesse skins? why are people whitewashing characters like radar, stella, olivia, etc?? MCSM as a game has blessed its community with a wide range of characters of different ethnicities and races (even if not directly stated) and none of them are stereotyped, theyre all incredibly well written and have great characterizations but unappreciative morons are choosing to whitewash the shit out of them :/. the characters are so easy to colorpick. theyre minecraft characters. literally pixels. coloring people of different skin colors is NOT a difficult thing. have some common sense and use references properly.

im an adult who likes adult things. as an adult i understand boundaries and that talking to minors about sexual headcanons is NOT a good thing! woah! some of you dont understand how important it is to tag certain shit on different sites correctly or how to keep conversations about NSFW topics away from people who are WAY younger than you. vague jokes are one thing but time after time ive either heard or seen myself that grown ass people are describing explicitly sexual things with minors. gross much???? and PUBLICLY of all things. its one thing to have your own friend group or whatever, its fine to discuss things in private so long as its with someone in your fucking age range but JESUS CHRIST! MCSM discord servers have become BREEDING GROUNDS for these kinds of adult NSFW discussions with minors and it only creates a domino effect where they too start sharing that in OTHER MCSM servers with OTHER minors. ITS GROSS!!

(whole paragraph above also applies to headcanons and aus that are also potentially triggering. jesus christ some things should just be kept in private convos on the internet)

and my god the DRAMA over characters its insane. its completely fine to dislike certain headcanons and to have certain opinions on them. you can publicly voice your opinions in a RESPECTFUL manner. it really is not hard.?? at all. there are a ton of headcanons i hate personally, i rant about them in private and if i ever feel like voicing about them in public ill say it in a respectful manner. if someone dislikes a headcanon you like it is not a personal attack on your entire being. relax dude. i will always agree with the statement that fiction affects reality but my god they are just FICTIONAL CHARACTERS that you do not know personally and you do NOT need to go on a rampage and witch-hunt people because people say things like "i think xyz character has a different body type!" or "i think xyz character is a certain sexuality!". this especially applies to age headcanons. ages are NOT CANON, sure there are characters that appear to be older than others but ages are always up for speculation. not everyone is going to agree with your "minor coded" headcanons, dont attack and throw proshipper/pedo accusations on people who dont? id go into the infantilization of the characters who get this kinda treatment but different problem different day. point is, headcanons are headcanons and sending swarms of people after people who disagree with them is DUMB and STUPID and NOT NICE! stop doing that

in general this fandom harbors horrible mindsets and even more horrible people who i will not name and frankly its getting very frustrating seeing how the people in this fandom treat each other. have some respect for others and also yourselves. fix up your behaviors, dont make your bad attitudes everyones problem, and spend some time off the internet. have a good day yall

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #this fandom reeks #god im tired of some of yall #the block button is my best friend #a lotta you people need to get your shit together

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sincerely-sofie · 6 days ago

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I’m a skeleton gal who likes to draw and write! Currently I’m working on Better the Wool, a Cult of the Lamb AU about the Lamb resurrecting the sheep and mending her relationship with her former patron deity.

Featured Tags: #Stuff by Sofie (Tag for my creations) | #Sofie Says Stuff (Tag for my rambles) | #Sofie Answers Asks (Tag for responses to my inbox) | #Obbyposting (Tag for raving about how awesome my boyfriend is)

You can read more about me, my projects, and what I’m up to under the cut!

About Me:

I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints!

I’m interested in writing, making webcomics, game dev, 2D animation, character design, programming, singing, small business management, self-improvement, and all around way too many crafting mediums to count.

I like green, bugs, hot chocolate, kawaii future bass music, video essays, Ooblets, and Animal Crossing.

I have a pet blue death feigning beetle named Gamer Girl, sometimes fondly referred to as GG!

I make a lot of things. This blog is a way for me to record the various projects I create on my journey to be unashamedly sincere!

Some of My Projects:

Better the Wool: An in-progress Cult of the Lamb AU focusing on the Lamb and her relationship with Narinder as she works to resurrect the Sheep killed by the Old Faith. Has a dedicated tag on my blog. A written fanfic is in the works, and I regularly post art about it between writing!

The Present is a Gift: A finished, but still semi-active, post-credits AU and fanfic for Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Sky which focuses on the hero taking in an amnesiac Darkrai. Has a dedicated tag on my blog. Also has a dedicated sideblog for chapters and can be found on Ao3, Tumblr, PMD Fanfiction, and Wattpad through there!

Mortality Exchange: A collection of “What-if” scenarios based on a piece of worldbuilding in my Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanworks— if a Legendary pokemon dies, a nearby mortal pokemon will inherit their powers and immortality. Has a dedicated tag on my blog. There are no plans to make a long-form storytelling project of this.

Dugtrio Day: A time loop AU for Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Sky that stars a prickly Eevee hero, a sociable Treecko partner, and a nihlistic Celebi. Has a dedicated tag on my blog. There are currently no plans to make a long-form storytelling project of this.

Common Questions:

My inbox is always open if you want to ask or send something in! I like to queue up responses to things sent into my inbox, though, so sometimes they take a while to get posted. You can always send a DM or additional ask about the state of the thing you sent in if you’re curious!

I don’t mind being tagged in things. It’s a great way to make sure I see something :>

Fanart and other works based on my AUs, original work, and persona are all things I love to see! If you ever make something along those lines, send me a pic or the link to where it’s posted! I’d love to be able to shout it out if possible!

If you want to voice act / do a dub of my work, the same rules apply from the above bullet point! I’d love to see it! Send me the link! However, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use AI to dub over my work. I’ve had my work stolen for use in AI dubs in the past, and I’d really like to avoid the stress of that happening again.

If you’re curious about something, send in a question, whether anonymously or not! You don’t need to be nervous or shy about it. I’m a pretty chill gal— I promise I won’t bite!

#pinned post #intro post #introduction post #introductory post #blog intro #sofie says stuff

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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

All For Naught

Jeff loads the last guitar into the back of the pickup. He can't believe it's over. Just like that. They tried so hard, for so long, that he kind of assumed that they would forever.

He definitely hadn't expected Goodie to be the one to throw in the towel.

Not like this.

He thought if they broke up it would be Eddie that called it quits. Eddie, with Steve at home. Eddie with a whole life outside the band.

Or Gareth. He's getting married. It'd be fair to want to settle down, to stay close to home. To give up on the band that has only had middling success, at best.

But, no. It was Goodie. His best friend, the one that he thought he'd ride or die with until the absolute end, that pulled the plug. Sure, they could get another bass player, but they'd made a promise to each other years ago that Corroded Coffin was the four of them, and the four of them alone.

No additions. No replacements.

So, with Goodie out, they're just done.

All they have left is cleaning out the rehearsal garage, dividing up stuff that they can't remember who it belonged to in the first place. They aren't even fighting. That's the thing that hurts the most. That they are all just resigned to letting this go.

It's been their life for almost two decades, and now it's just over.

Jeff moved back home for a while, but looking up at the ceiling in his childhood bedroom was too depressing, so as soon as he could get his shit together, he fled. Out of town, out of the state.

He went from living in close proximity to the three of them, to now, all alone. Staring at the blank walls of his apartment as he tries to find a job. He had a job. It didn't pay particularly well, but he loved it.

Loved Corroded Coffin.

Loved them all.

Loved Goodie the most.

And now they haven't spoken in six weeks. Goodie's just vanished off the face of the earth, and Goodie's mom and dad won't tell Jeff anything useful. He's just gone.

His last private lesson of the day is over. The kids are kind of fun to teach, even if he doesn't expect any of them to be the next Jimi Hendrix.

He teaches lots of guitar, and a little piano. He knows enough to teach the beginners, anyway.

Mr. Clarke, back home, was able to pull some strings, even from states away, vouching for him. And now he's a music tutor.

It pays well. He often makes more in an afternoon than his cut would be from a weekend of gigs.

He's not passionate about it, not like he was about Corroded Coffin, but it definitely pays the bills more reliably.

Eddie and Steve have been out a couple times, and Gareth once, and they all tip-toe around him, like he might explode. Since when is he the unstable one? Eddie always had the dramatics locked down for himself.

"I'm fine," Jeff says for the tenth time since Eddie flopped onto his couch this afternoon.

"You're not," Eddie argues.

"Do you want me to cry, or what?" Jeff snaps.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you did."

Nothing is gonna make him feel better. His best friend basically wrote his ass off, along with everyone else, in one fell swoop. He took that pretty damn personally. How could he not? It was fucked.

"Goods called last week," Eddie says, as casual as can be.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. That's what you lead with. Not Steve's new lawnmower," Jeff bitches, "Well? Where is he?"

"He said the South of France, but I don't believe him," Eddie says.

No shit. Jeff wouldn't believe that either. Goodie hates the sun.

"Well, did he at least explain why he imploded the band?" Jeff asks, because that's what he needs to know.

"He didn't. But you know why," Eddie says, and Jeff pauses, looking at him.

He most definitely does not, "I do?"

"Think," Eddie stresses, as if Jeff hasn't been thinking about this, and only this, for months.

"Because we weren't making money?"

"No," Eddie says.

"Because he had finally had enough of Gareth?"

Eddie laughs, "No. But a better guess."

"I don't know. I feel like maybe I never knew him at all, if he's capable of just bailing on us all for no good reason."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "C'mon. You know better than this. You know how he's always felt about you."

Jeff opens his mouth to laugh, but Eddie doesn't, so he snaps it closed again. No. That can't be. Goodie never.

No, no, no.

"You're not saying…" Jeff trails off.

"I am saying. We all saw it. How did you not?" Eddie asks, and Jeff's confused. That's not. They never. Goodie never said anything. How was he supposed to guess that?

Goodie came out a few years ago, as loath as he was to follow in Eddie's footsteps about anything.

Jeff's dated women and men. Why wouldn't Goodie just say something? It's not like there was a zero percent chance.

But it must have felt like it to him, he supposes.

Goddamnit.

Sure, there's been some moments over the years. But he was, is, his best friend. And not fucking up that, not fucking up the band, always quashed anything that ever bubbled to the surface.

And now, there's no best friend, and no band, so the caution was all for naught.

"Well, fuck," Jeff says, and Eddie laughs, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper.

An address.

The door opens, and Goodie looks surprised. Eddie didn't warn him.

Jeff takes one big step forward, pushing into his personal space, "You're an asshole."

It's not graceful. Too many teeth, and noses bumping like they've never done this before, but Jeff keeps at it, keeps kissing him, not intending to give him the opportunity to slip away again.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt twenty-nine: behind the music #jeff stranger things #goodie (unnamed freak) stranger things #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #freak stranger things #corroded coffin fic #ccf day twenty-nine: behind the music #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic

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chaifootsteps · 10 months ago

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So Raph finally, once again, straight up admitted he's not an SA victim.

I have to give him credit for being honest. Lying about SA (which sadly does happen and I know people don't want to think about it, but it does happen) is a very disgusting thing to do. Like Viv lying about Raph being an SA victim!

What I can't him credit for, is putting his fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

Raph said that he could practice his kink safely and privately with other people. That would be totally fine and cool, if he didn't put his fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

He boarded Poison. He choreographed for it. His dialogue from his fucking Valangel rape comic was used in the scene. Viv clearly has a noncon/rape kink. She wrote and directed it. Which, again, would be fine if she didn't put their fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

It's extremely disgusting to have 2 people who have not been SA'd (Viv has not publicly come forward about supposedly being SA'd herself, and is now straight up liking posts saying you don't need to have trauma to like certain fetishes. Hmmm.) write and board a scene and plot like this. I know Sam Haft said he was a victim (and if that's the case then I am truly sorry) but he also said he wanted Raph, who clearly has issues and has a fetish for this (and also sexually harassed a 15 year old child) to come back to twitter. Also, what the fuck was that tweet about Fizz being a "baby slut"? I've seen Viv like particularly cutesy art of Fizz that's um... pretty gross and borders on fetishistic a lot of the time (mainly wearing children-esque clothing and acting cutesy). You can't have someone who clearly has issues to work in a professional environment.

I'm into noncon and have read hundreds of fanfics like ep4. It's clearly a noncon fanfic with a massive budget. Jesus Christ, I write fanfics like this, but I at least tag and rate everything and always state in my notes that I don't condone the actions of SA. And when I saw ep4... it's clear to me what it was.

Amazon needs to get this show pulled. It's insensitive and frankly sickening to a CSA victim like me, who also happens to be into noncon.

There's nothing wrong with practicing kinks with partners and keeping what you like behind closed doors, but it's another thing to disregard victims and survivors all for the sake of your wank off material that's being broadcasted to millions of people (with no trigger warning).

Oh, and then singing an extremely insensitive song about how if you're SA'd, that you're not unique and to continue to be a "coked up dick sucking ho!" That's right, you're a loser baby! A whiny fucking loser for being raped and abused! It's all your fault, you fucking moron! But hey, I have a gambling problem so we're both losers and we can eat shit together!

Seriously... how the fuck aren't people pissed about that song??

Also, Raph sexually harrassed a 15 year old child and Viv victim blamed the child.

How is this woman still a professional showrunner? Why hasn't she fired Raph? (Oh wait because she said she wouldn't on Threads lmao) Why aren't more people outraged?

The rose colored glasses need to come off at some point, people. Your objectively shitty demon shows aren't worth it.

This.

Viv and her cronies are bad news from a professional standpoint, a marketing one, a decency one. They sprung a rape fetish scene on their entire audience and then laughed in the faces of the survivors who criticized it. They don't deserve a platform, and never did.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel #actual blog post

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

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The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 16

Howdy folks,

I went into a state of psychosis this week and read a truly absurd amount of fics... again. I don't even know where I'm finding the time, truly, but here we are. I didn't spend as much time keeping up with the WIPs I'm reading, so honestly that's probably it. Also I had a lil monsterfucking moment one day this week. I'll highlight those green so if you want to avoid reading the summaries/thots on those they're easy to spot.

You can find my Spreadsheet here and all my previous recs here! Do feel free to tag me in your works and I will happily give them a look and most likely you'll see them here the next week!

Recs below the behind the scenes Joel!

SNAFU - a Frankie series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

The Triple Frontier boys as Shifters!!! This honestly makes so much sense? Like they work SO well with this dynamic. I adore Pope and Reader's bond like right out of the gate. What I really, really fucking loved though was Reader and Frankie, of course. I love how they characterized him and I really love the way that Frankie and reader bonded over time. Frankie being grumpy is so fun lol. A lot of the little details in this fic are what really make it good, ya know? The pack dynamics, the bonding moments, the badass reader, reader's uhhh issue (spoiler, I think, so I'll be quiet here) but yeah. Just. Wonderful. Can't wait for more.

only daddy that'll walk the line - a Joel one shot by @millerscoffee

So this request was sent to two different blogs and I read them both and loved them both. I read this one first. I really fucking loved Reader's dynamic with Joel in this. Joel is such a dick lmao. I thought the situation with reader's dad was done well and I also loved the hinting at Joel's trauma. And of course... the smut. God that was hot. Joel is so fucking dominant. The spitting? please. and Reader keeping up the brat thing just really fucking makes it. She needed Daddy Joel to make her behave lmao. SO GOOD

Little Bee - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch

And this is the other version of this request that I read. I related to the specifc brand of Daddy Issues in this one lmao. Dad who doesn't want you so you look for a protective older man (why am I like this). I loved the way reader antagonized Joel in this. The denture comment is hilarious. The bee motif is fuckin great, also. I like that Joel kind of initiates things in the mess hall. The smut is so god damn hot man. Like jesus fucking christ. And then the post nut clarity really made me giggle. "should not have done that" PLS

Closer - a Joel series by @beardedjoel

Hot neighbor!joel!! This is a smut marathon style fic with a good bit of feelings. The smut is sooooo good!! I really liked her friend Sofia too. I'm about halfway through this and I can't wait to see how reader and joel's relationship develops!

Rises the Moon - a Joel one shot by @psychedelic-ink

(monsterfucking, but you're the monster! also monster is being used very loosely here) mermaid reader x lighthouse operator joel!!! I really enjoyed this. The mermaid reader was super interesting. I wanted to know more about her background, honestly. And the way poor lonely Joel so desperately wanted to care for her UGH. It was seriously lovely. I also really liked how reader didn't commit to like... giving up being a mermaid for him (even just once a month), and he didn't ask her to. The ending is really lovely. (And the smut is hot idc if I couldn't quite imagine how it worked, it was perfect).

Playing with fire - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Super hot smutty lil dad's best friend one shot. I love when Joel gets all pissy. Makes me want to tease him even more lmao

Cupid's Chokehold - a Din one shot by @deathwife

I haven't read a body swap fic before and I must say the dynamic with it being Din, so reader can't see his face even though it's her face, and also the smut was just like... really good. I was fascinated the whole time + the smut was hot as hell. It's really fun to read it from the perspective of the dick owner lmao. I really adored their relationship and just overall thought this was lovely. Reader calls Din "Djarin" so if you're like me and marrying Din would give you an awful name (Din Gin....), you're not alone. <3

I think i know - a Joel one shot by @pascalisbaby

OMG Reader's sister is so mean in this she fucking deserves Joel cheating on her. Yes this is Sister's Husband!Joel. And yes it's really fucking hot. Reader is a menace to fucking society in this prancing around half naked and seducing a married man and I support every second of it. I know what Joel said at the end but I think he'll be back for more....

close your eyes, pay the price for your paradise - a Joel/Tommy series by @ozarkthedog

Raider (?) Tommy and Joel are so fucking hot. Read the warnings on this one kids, it's gonna be a rough one. Nothing happens in this part though, really. Basically you're stranded on the road (post outbreak / pre tess) and Joel and Tommy roll up in their truck and take you to their cabin.

a day in the filth - a Joel one shot by @toxicanonymity

This is pure filth, as the title implies. It would seem you're Joel's little sex toy, essentially. Brat tamer!Daddy!Joel. There's a lot going on here and it is all unreasonably hot.

Bodily Exchange - a Pero Tovar one shot by @absurdthirst

I finally caved a read a mafia fic and somehow it wasn't Joel. I really loved how much of a fucking dick Tovar was and how bratty reader was. The end was so much sweeter than expected, which was a nice surprise. Such a filthy fic with a sweet happy ending!

New York or Nowhere - a Joel series by @beskarandblasters

BODEGA JOEL!!! I love when you're trying to help your friend come up with a fic based on a very specific request and somehow you come up with a completely different fic altogether. New York transplant Joel owns Beldro's Deli. You think he's really hot but your friends think he's a creep. I personally think if he's a little bit of a creep that just makes it better, but then again I'm a little insane <3

Shiver and Shake - a Joel one shot by @multiversed-daydreamer

I have ADHD and literally do the thing where I have thought spirals during sex. I loved this take on that experience and mean ol dom Joel being there to bring your focus back where it belongs (on him). Super fucking hot ugh. And it was their first TLOU fic and I thought the QZ Joel characterization was spot on <3

Roads - a Joel series by @milla-frenchy

Baby's first fic!! So you grew up with Tommy, best friends and all that. You get to know Joel as an adult and there's a spark right away. The first installment here takes place 3 years before present day, after Joel breaks your heart and you literally move to get away from him. The promise of so much angst has me salivating almost as much as the really hot smut.

Promise - an Ezra one shot by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

MONSTERFUCKING! I had a little binge this week.. you'll see. Anyway Ezra is a literal actual dragon in this with a big ol dragon dick and everything. This fic includes so many wild ass kinks I simply do not (or did not know I?) have. And yet I still loved it. Thought it was super fucking hot. I really liked the imagery of the castle and the bedroom. Also the end was kind of sweet?

Common Courtesies - a Din one shot by @juletheghoul

More monsterfucking -- demon!din! I fucking love Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen in general. Mr. Darcy is one of the literary loves of my life. This little Pride and Prejudice-esque Demon!Din fic hit every mark. I loved it so much. Din is so charming and mysterious and sexy ugh. I would marry him in a heartbeat.

Solum - a Dave York one shot by @ezrasbirdie

You guessed it! Monsterfucking. Demon!Dave York!!! I really enjoyed the blending of the movie plot with the demon arc! It was so well done!! Dave was super sexy in this ugh. I too feel a strange pull toward extremely dangerous men covered in blood. Reader gets me. I am her. She is me. Demon!Dave can take me as his little human sex toy any day, idc. I also kind of loved that he was so sweet on Carol in this? Like usually in Dave fics he kinda hates her or cheats on her or she's his ex, but in this one the whole catalyst was keeping her and his girls safe. Very sweet.

Sell My Soul For You - a Marcus P one shot by @absurdthirst

--monsterfucking-- Marcus is so sweet. So sweet that Reader is getting a little aggravated he can't be a less sweet in bed. (Girl have you tried like... talking to him about it?) Anyway, sweet, impulsive, reckless Marcus finds out you feel this way via buttdial and does he like... work on it with you and slowly learn to be better? No. He goes out and sells his soul to a demon to be a better Dom. Idiot. He's cute tho, so I'll let it slide. The smut is super fucking unreasonably hot, of course.

Bad Moon Rising - a Jack series by @wardenparker

--werewolf!Jack-- This fic is actually so fucking sweet!! So part one, Reader doesn't know Jack is a werewolf and he just kinda shows up on her ranch and they hit it off immediately. There's lots of lovely animal references and stuff and it's all really hot. I love the plot too!! this is not just werewolf porn! Shit is incredible! I love the characterization. But anyway if you're not into monsterfucking just read part one. Part two tho... oh boy. Full on werewolf sex. And reader has a kink for it! She's just like me fr.

Kudzu - an Ezra one shot by @beskarberry

--weird alien hybrid ezra-- I have lots of emotions about this fic. First of all, read the warnings. They're extensive and they're there for good reason. I love a good horror fic, which is kind of what this felt like? Like the weird tension and unknowing and the freaky way Ez is talking and that arm. I was thoroughly freaked out (and I love that!!). There were so many clever and interesting things going on in this fic AHHHH, Oh and the ending is just like super sweet and wonderful and so good? The end balances out the kind of horrific nature of the rest of the fic. Also if any of that sounds insulting I really don't mean it that way, I promise. I went in to it expecting to be freaked out and it delivered so well.

Yes Father - a Joel series by @chloeangelic

Your boring catholic husband doesn't fuck you right and you really want to leave him, so Father Joel helps you satisfy your needs so you don't destroy your marriage and go to hell. I love blasphemy. It's hot idc. I think my favorite thing about it is Father Joel randomly admonishing you for foul language and taking the lord's name in vain while he's literally got some part of his body buried in yours. I giggled. I really adore this. It was super fun and super hot.

Pillow Talk - a Joel one shot by @theboredinsomniac

Joel is soooo the jealous type. This fic is basically y'all having an adult conversation about him being an insecure jealous little bitch and it's got the most adorable ending.

Born to Run - a Marcus Pike series by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Penny's Marcus is just perfect. Every damn time. Unless I'm mistaken, this was her first Marcus fic? I was in the mood for a sweet multichapter thing with some hot smut and I was sooooo not disappointed by this. I'm on chapter 8 now, so about halfway through. Marcus is so sweet and precious and still impulsive as ever, but unlike Theresa, reader is right there with him. I really adore that this fic takes place in KY (and it really captures the vibe of Kentucky too) since I'm from there! I very much do not relate to the fact that reader is a marathon runner, but that's okay. I think it's really cool and I love the way they meet and that Marcus isn't fully a white knight? She can take care of herself. Super fucking cute fic ugh. Oh yeah and the smut is to die for jesus christ Marcus is hot.

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

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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trashogram · 5 months ago

Note

So first off; I love your 'He Chose You' series and would like to be added to the tag list for upcoming parts, please and thank you.

That being said, there's a technicality within your series that's been bothering me since Charlie was born. Whatever depressed, sinner hating state Lucifer was in when he agreed to the exterminations aside, one of the stipulations he added was that the exterminators couldn't harm hellborns. Call it Kingly if you want to, but we all know the main objective there was to protect Charlie.

But in your series, Charlie technically was born on earth and not in Hell. I have no clue if you're even planning on having the exterminations in your story, but the fact that Charlie technically doesn't count as a hellborn and the implications of it have been taking up more of my mental space than I'd like.

Hey! Thank you so much! I’m so happy you like the series and of course I’ll tag you! You need only ask!

As far as the technicality of hellborns not being harmed during exterminations — which definitely do happen in HCY — Lucifer may or may not have made that same stipulation (not for himself bc he gets so apathetic by this point, but maybe for his fellow Sins) but Charlie would still be off-limits regardless because her conception and birth were planned, in a fashion, by Heaven. They wanted the Devil to have an heir to balance things out since God exists and Jesus Christ is also a part of this universe. It’s not really utilitarian on God’s part, it’s more “I want things to look more even. I like symmetry: that’s why human beings are always seeking out patterns, they were made in my image :) Also, I don’t actually have a huge grudge against my son. I kinda pushed him into this thankless role, and I can see that he’s been lonely all this time. Gonna push my fav son into a chance at happiness with true love and a family.”

There are a lot of canon divergences in this fic that are kind of hard to put out there because I don’t know how to segue into them out of nowhere. Things like Lucifer only being able to come up to Earth via the fireplace or being able to be near Heaven at all, are some examples. Some of the things Reader will be able to do in the future are technically impossible in Hazbin canon as far as we know.

This isn’t to say that Charlie, Lucifer and Reader are totally and completely invincible. Again, God loves drama more than literally anything else in this fic, even though we may never get his POV.

#HCY #I hope this answers your question #I kinda went on a tangent

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vivaladicamillo · 2 years ago

Note

I 10000% need some fluff and smut for Ryan Dunn!!!

RYAN DUNN X GN!READER HCS

okok more ryan dunn content bc lord im so whipped for him its not funny anymore, i also think there NEEDS more content of him on here i’ve scrolled to the bottom of the ryan dunn tags and im in need of content tbh, so might as well make my own for other ryan lover like me out there !

WARNINGS: nsfw elements towards the end

——————————————————

SFW:

oh this man is crazy for u

we’ve seen and heard of stories of ryans past relationships

we all know he would literally bend over backwards for u

i feel like hes not to big on romantic things though

like fancy flashy type romantic stuff

date wise he would probably take u either somewhere public like the movies or an icecream shop or like somewhere u genuinely really wanna go

in public though he always had one arm wrapped around u

either around ur waist or ur shoulder or even just holding ur hand

he wants everyone in that mf to know ur his

LOVES TO SHOW U OFF

keep a little photo of u in his wallet

“yah my girlfriend is super hot.”

the guys totally dog on him for it though

everyones just praying ur not like his past relationships

he just has a habit of letting people step over him bc he care abt them too much

but ur not like le that, ur different (hopefully LMAO)

when he started growing his hair out he definitely let u brush it and style it when u could

that man barely knows how to shower on a regular basis hes definitely not brushing his own hair regularly

SPEAKING OF SHOWERS

oh lord jesus christ ur gonna have to make him shower

hes gonna be smelling like a whole can of bounce that ass sometimes

u will probably have to make a deal with him to shower

or just lock his ass up in there and tell him hes not coming out untill he does shower

but honestly if u just ask him politely and nicely he will start trying to smell better and shower more often

anything for u

he loves to kiss u

like all the time, no matter where

in public, in front of the guys, in front of a old persons home, u name it and he’s probably gonna kiss u there

also he loves kissing ur nose, forehead, cheek and ofc ur lips

he also doesnt mind kisses back (lord please kiss his nose he secretly loves it when u do that)

any joke u make will make him do his little goofy laugh

oh and he will do anything to see u laugh or smile

he adore ur smile

he could just admire it for hours on end

i feel like his mom would love u too

ur just his perfect match !

NSFW:

hmm where should i start

i feel like hes a switch but hes more on the dom side

but not like rough and mean

he’s definitely a soft dom

he loves to take it slow, gentle and calm

he wants to enjoy every minute you guys spend together

slow pace but just right yk?

but he also loves it when ur dominant

seeing u above him and seeing u have all the power when it comes to the bedroom just does something for him

he don’t discriminate

LOVESSS when u give him hickeys

he will also give them to you yes ofc but only if hes feeling a bit jealous

he does not like sharing his sex life with anyone

maybe bam but thats a bog MAYBE

ik hes stated before he likes to keep things private

so no risky public sex or threesomes

maybeathreesomewithbambutthatsnot100%

oh he loves to give u head

and hes damn well good at it

he wont stop till u at least have came twice

SPEAKING OF CUM (hehe cum)

his favorite place for him to cum is either on ur thighs or in ur mouth

SHOWER SEX!

probably one of the only ways u can get him to shower

he likes using handcuffs on u though

thats on super rare occurrences

kink wise i think hes not into a lot

maybe hair pulling, spanking but not much else

hes always down to try some stuff though if u really wanted too

just nothing that involves him hurting u or u hurting him

i also feel like hes not one to joke during the deed

unless u both are in a silly mood then maybe theres some giggling and jokes

but otherwise he wants it to be more intimate and loving

PRAISE PRAISE PRAISE ALL DAY

“ah yes ur doing so good for me baby.” “u look so good with my cock inside u darling”

i feel like hes into being called a title

like sir or master (maybe)

i feel like he would be icked out by daddy though

his after care is amazing though

you want him to run u a bath? get u food, drinks? a magically gay unicorn? hes getting it for u no matter how tired he is

LOVES TO CUDDLE AFTERWARDS

he thinks its so cute when u fall asleep in his arms first

he just loves u so much and wants to see u happy

if ur happy and satisfied hes happy and satisfied

—————————————

hope u enjoyed!! i kinda just did a bunch of cute and spicy headcanons for this bc i just wrote another ryan fic abt a similar topic sooooo yea!

#HEHHEHE I LOVE HIMMM #RYAN BABYYYY #SCREAMING #jackass #cky crew #cky x reader #cky4 #cky2k #cky clip #cky3 #ryan dunn x reader #ryan dunn x reader smut #ryan dunn #ryan is so cutie

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all-hail-the-witcher · 7 months ago

Text

questionable government spies but better written and five years late, chapter 3: i’m not one for bullying, but i am one for bullying nepo babies!

yeah it’s been like 10 months. you win some you loose some, ok?

—-

words: didn’t count, at least a few thousand

warnings: lots of swearing, gangs mentions, davey is an asshole

edited: kinda!!!

tags: @jack-kellys @ainti-pretty @boygirlctommy (let me know if you want to be tagged)

ch1 | ch2 | read on ao3

—-

“Jesus fucking christ don’t any of you dipshits know how to fucking merge ?”

Albert blinked his eyes open blearily and then immediately shut them again. The rising sun reflecting off of what was probably miles of cars and tractor trailers gave him an instant headache.

“Are we there yet?” Jack asked from the back seat, voice thick with sleep.

“No we’re not fucking there yet,” Race cursed. “If we were I’d be cursing much fucking more.”

Albert couldn’t help but smile. It felt so good to be back with Race. “You know I could have driven,” Albert said.

“Like fucking hell I was going to let you do that,” Race took his eyes off of the road for a brief second to glare at Albert. “First you’re injured-“

“I’ve had worse.”

Race ignored him. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week-“

“Hitchhiking from Canada is hard work!”

“And it was one thing on the fucking bumble fuck backroads, but this is fucking 95. People don’t fucking know how to drive here.” Race swerved into the right lane and layed on the horn and flipped off the Jeep that had just cut him off. “See?”

Unfortunately, Race was correct. Despite the fact that Albert had raided a Walgreens in not only Chicago, but also somewhere in the maze of corn that was Ohio, his shoulder was still fucked and his nose was regrettably getting more and more stuffed. Normally he would down 9 advil with half a bottle of DayQuil and pass out for six hours, but he wanted to be at least mostly conscious when he entered Davey’s office. So he’d been alternating between taking advil and DayQuil every four hours. It was nowhere near as helpful as his usual dose and he felt like absolute shit. The one driving shift he had taken, at midnight through Pennsylvania, had been absolute hell. But Race didn’t need to know that.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Jack asked. “You’ve been going since two and-”

“Jack,” Race interrupted. “Can I ask you a question?”

Albert smirked.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever driven into Manhattan at 7:30am?”

“No.”

“That’s what I fuckin thought.”

Jack hesitated. “So do you not...want me to drive?”

“I’d rather fucking retake fucking high school fucking chemistry again than fucking let you get behind the fucking wheel right now.”

Albert tried to hide his laughter unsuccessfully.

Race took his eyes off of the road for a brief second to side eye him. “Albert Dasilva rush hour traffic is not a laughing matter.”

“Sorry,” Albert muttered, biting his cheek to keep the rest of his laughter in.

“But why is it different from rush hour traffic in any other state?”

“Watch and learn,” Race said. “Albert, badge me.”

Oh this was going to be good. Albert opened the glovebox and pulled out Race’s FBI badge. In all their years as agents they had wanted to do this but had never had a good enough reason, until now, evidently.

“Why do we need a badge to get through the toll plaza?” Jack asked. “Are they going to give us a discount or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Race scoffed. “We work for the government, not the fucking mafia.”

Albert snorted. That was one way of putting it.

As they drove through the toll plaza Albert felt adrenaline begin to course through him, momentarily taking his mind off of his sorry state. This job was so much better with a partner. This was something that he knew, obviously, but he came face to face with it every time he was out on his own for long periods of time. Albert had hitchhiked across his fair share of the country on his own and it was always hell on earth. It made him appreciate moments like this even more, the small moments of insanity in an otherwise, generally frustrating job. He could die at any moment, but at least he had Race by his side and some kind of scheme brewing between them.

Like right now.

“Why are you going into the bus lane, Race. We are not on a bus.”

“Watch and learn, Jackie,” Race smirked as he rolled down his window. The state troopers were already approaching the car.

“Sir this is a bus lane only,” one of them said. “You are going to have to exit.”

Race dramatically flipped open his badge like they do in the shitty cop movies. “Racetrack Higgins,” he said. “I’m with the FBI. Me and my partners are on a time crunch to get into the city.”

“And what does that have to do with this here bus lane?” The trooper crossed his arms.

“I’d tell you but you know how it is, FBI, secrets, alla that,” Race waved his hands around vaguely. “In fact, I should make you sign an NDA just for talking to me.”

The trooper was unamused.

“Look man,” Race said. “This is a life or death situation here. You either let me through or I tell the head of the New York FBI that you, personally, are the reason why I am late, and lemme tell you, that is not going to be good for either of us.”

The trooper considered. Behind Race, buses began to honk impatiently.

“C’mon man, I’m holding up the line of disgruntled commuters here.”

“Fine, just this once,” The trooper said, stepping back from the car and waving Race through.

Race rolled up the window and stepped on the gas. A small, devious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Oh, what Albert would do to see that smile.

“Boys,” Race said, pulling into line with the other buses. “We’ve fucking done it.”

“ Fuck yeah man,” Albert shouted, reaching over to fist bump Race.

“What did we do, exactly?”

“Bypassed all of the fucking tunnel traffic,” Race said, drumming on the steering wheel. “It's an absolute game changer.”

“But you said it was a life or death situation…?”

“Uhh…yeah?” Race looked at Jack through the rear view mirror. “Jacobs is going to fucking kill us if were any more late than we already are.”

“Why are you guys so afraid of him?” Jack asked. “He’s just another guy working for the same people we do, he’s barely got more clearance than you do.”

Albert smirked as Race made eye contact with Jack in the rear view mirror.

“Let’s revisit that thought when we’re done with the meeting, capisce?”

And an hour later, when they were all finally sat in Jacobs’s office, Jack really did look like he was rethinking that comment. Albert didn’t blame him.

“You’re late,” Jacobs said, slamming the door shut behind him.

“My apologies,” Race said. “One of us was dead less than twenty four hours ago.”

“What, you think crime stops when people die?” Jacobs sat down behind his desk.

Race opened his mouth to respond but Jacobs fixed him with a glare.

“I want to keep this brief,” Jacobs said.

Finally, something they could all agree upon.

“I don’t want you here,” Jacobs said.

Race snorted. Albert choked down a laugh. Jack looked confused.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Race muttered under his breath.

Jacobs ignored him.

“The only reason you are allowed back here is because we need your help.” It looked like it pained Jacobs to say that.

“Could I get that in writing?” Race asked.

Albert elbowed him.

Jacobs glared harder. “I can still fire you.”

“You just said you needed my help.”

“Race,” Albert whispered, bumping his leg against Race’s.

Jacobs watched the two of them with a bemused expression before continuing.

“A man named Sean Conlon turned himself in this morning. He’s a member of The Anonymous, a gang we have been trying to take down for years.”

“What does this have to do with us?” Albert asked. He was familiar with the name. He didn’t know much, but he knew they were dangerous. He thought that Finch might have mentioned them before.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Jacobs said. “It has to do with him.” He pointed at Race.

“Me?” Race raised his eyebrows.

Albert did not like where this was going.

“He said he will only talk to you,” Jacobs said.

“How does he know who I am?” Race asked.

Albert was wondering the same thing. He and Race had fucked right out of New York as soon as they could. It didn’t make sense why a gang member would be on a first name basis with him.

“I don’t know, and I also don’t care,” Jacobs said in true Jacobs fashion. “I want to take these fuckers down. So the case is now yours. Don’t fuck it up.” He slid a fat case file across the table.

Albert glared at it like it would bite him.

“It’s going to be a few weeks before I’m able to do field work again,” he said, gesturing to his arm that was still in the sling. “So I am not sure when we will be able to-“

“Oh you’re not doing anything, Dasilva,” Jacobs said, his smile sickeningly sweet. “You and Kelly, was it? Are on behind the scenes work exclusively. Higgins will be in the field.”

Albert felt his heart drop down to his feet.

“Sir-“ he said, trying not to let his voice shake. “I don’t think that’s-“

“I don’t care what you think,” Jacobs said. “This is the first solid lead we have had on this case in years. Higgins is going to be in the field and that’s final. Now for your assignments…”

He started rattling off addresses and places and Albert tuned it out. He could blame it on the pain or the cold he was definitely catching when Race asked him about it later. Race and him were a packaged deal. Together or bust. Usually it was Albert in the field, Race on backup. Not because Race couldn’t handle himself. But because it hurt Albert too much to see Race get hurt. He had seen enough of that when they were kids. He could keep Race safe now. That was why it was always him throwing his life on the line, jumping in front of bullets and off bridges and exploding things and detonating things and doing whatever he needed to do to make sure that Race could go to bed in one piece at night. And Jacobs wanted to throw him straight into the fire now? In New York? He was worst than a jerk he was a fucking-

“Dasilva!”

Albert snapped out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Pay some attention. I said you’re working at the Starbucks in Times Square and-“

“No the fuck I’m not,” Albert said, surprising himself.

“I beg your pardon?” Jacobs looked like he was considering stabbing Albert with the pen he was holding in his hand.

“No I’m not,” Albert repeated. “If you want me on this case, I’m working at 99c pizza. That’s my one condition.”

Jacobs considered. He knew Race and Albert were a packaged deal. They already had been.

“Fine.” Jacobs said. “But I’m not making any other exceptions for you two.”

Albert nodded. His arm was hurting again. He didn’t realize how tense he was. He needed to go lay down. He needed this meeting to be over. He needed to go curl up next to Race and maybe that would wash out the numbness.

It was far too long before Race was tapping his arm and offering him his hand. He just managed a curt nod to Jacobs as he followed Race blindly out the door.

“He was…interesting,” Jack said as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“Told you,” Race said, though it lacked his usual snap.

“Still can’t believe the New York FBI headquarters are in the fucking H&M building,” Jack said, mostly to himself.

Albert grunted in agreement. It truly was the stupidest thing about this place. Who the hell had had the bright idea to put the damn FBI headquarters in Times fucking Square of all places?

Just thinking about the nightmare of this building and the sensory overload that was down on the street below them that he was going to have to walk through in a few minutes made his head hurt. He let his eyes fall closed.

Race’s hand was immediately on his uninjured shoulder.

“Do you know where you’re going, Jack?” Race asked.

Jack must have nodded because no one said anything else.

All too soon, the elevator dinged open and Albert was forced to open his eyes as they were deposited in the Times Square H&M stockroom.

“Stay close,” Race whispered.

Albert didn’t need to be told twice.

He let Race steer him through the throngs of people, letting his guard drop for the first time in over a week. He knew he should be on alert, but it was Race. Race would never let anything happen to him.

“We just have to head to the van real quick,” Race whispered in his ear.

Race could have led him anywhere and he wouldn’t have cared.

He waited, leaning against the van as Race grabbed their go bags out of the back. He heard Race say goodbye to Jack, he must be staying somewhere different than them. Albert tried to take his bag from Race, but Race just brushed his hand away.

“Not tonight, Albie,” he laughed lightly, as if this was a normal situation. Well, Albert guessed it sort of was. How awful was that.

Race slid his free hand back into Albert’s and suddenly they were back on the street, back in Times Square and all the lights were blinding him, making his head hurt worse. He shut his eyes. Race would lead him home. He always did.

—-

sincerely hope it’s been worth the wait lol. let me know what you think!!!

#newsies #newsies fic #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #jack kelly #spot conlon #ralbert #ralbert fic #sprace #sprace fic #saphie scribbles #sorry i went off the rails

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lakesbian · 1 year ago

Note

i guess it's hard to get a read on how much he actually cares about palatine and dauphine or reciprocates their dislike of him? also why did he say that about "sexual favors"

(this post is about the fanfiction sword and sorcery, which you should read because it's good. it's written by tumblr users shakertwelve and nonplatonicsubtext about their estateverse au, which you can read more about in the estateposting tag on tumblr user shakertwelve's blog. would i ever lie to you about a fanfic recommendation.)

ok ahem. i've posted about alec's opinions on palatine and dauphine before bc i think the dynamic potential there is hilarious and i'm so delighted that they got put into the fic. the fancy frilly little freaques are fiiiighting!

Alec Is So Entirely 100% Certainly Without Doubt more mad about palatine and dauphine than they are about him. it would frankly be more accurate to ask how much victor and amelia reciprocate his dislike, because they are living RENT fucking free in his sad little repressed brain. but, like all of his emotions, it's just not super obvious because of how repressed he is--he feels and displays everything in a very muted way. the posts i linked get into the main bits of Why He Does Not Like Them At All, but to elaborate based on analysis of what's actually in the fic:

“Regent had a run-in with them a while back, before he joined the team,” Tattletale said. “He was new to the city, so he didn’t realize what his costume choice would make people think of.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the Estate capes. “But he was doing things they don’t do and going to parts of town they stay out of, which caused some confusion. Eventually Dauphine and Palatine tracked him down to have a talk about it. It didn’t go well.”

as we can extrapolate from above, alec's history with them is like this:

he shows up to brockton bay as a severely maladapted, depressed, Generally Unwell cult-escapee on the young (and probably malnourished) side of 13 with effectively nothing to his name but his powers

as a weak cape without a team and zero social or systematic connections to turn to for help, he's forced to do very small-scale villainy just to scrape by enough to survive. and the entire time he is wearing his costume that veritably Screams "i am a special little prince please look at how wonderful i am." jesus christ he needs a hug.

these random cunts, palatine and dauphine, pull up and basically tell him to Fuck Off and stop Stealing Their Family's Schtick

these random cunts are also dressed fancy like him, and dauphine especially is someone alec would identify with fashion-wise, given that it's explicitly stated that her costume is princess-like. "Even with her elaborate costume, she looked more like a child’s princess doll than an actual princess." taylor rags on it, but it's still princess-like

this random fancy cunt, dauphine, is the daughter of...marquis, an incredibly successful, fancy villain with long hair who has a lot of money and lives in a mansion and, from alec's perspective, loves and cares about her dearly and buys her nicey clothes. and beyond just that, she has a brother who--instead of tormenting her & then laughing about it--wears a special fancy gleaming knight costume and bridal carries her around and is so sweet and nicey to her if anything bad happens. like, for example, alec getting pissy at her and tripping her.

we already know alec gets Insanely, Malevolently, Incandescently Jealous over someone he's engaged in hostilities w/ having a nice family. (see: him doing all that shit to sophia). we also know that he isn't very good at recognizing this jealousy in himself. (see: aisha revealing in late worm that alec only realized that he had done all that shit to sophia out of a jealous rage like a week or two later when he was talking to her about it.)

which is to say: alec sees dauphine as being Sorta Like Him, but if he had a 100% ideal family (dashing golden knight brother that takes care of her! rich fancy father who protects them and buys them nice shit! and they all live in a mansion!), and LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU. HE IS SO INSANELY JEALOUS HE HOPES THE ENTIRE ESTATE GETS HIT BY A NUCLEAR WARHEAD AND EXPLODES. ...all subconsciously, of course. he expresses this thru things like mocking her for being "a baby about a little trip" &c--insulting the vulnerability & familial care he certainly wishes he could have, while fully unaware why seeing it annoys him so much.

but i digress. keeping all of that in mind, you can see why alec would be infuriated & jealous towards them even if they were completely neutral towards him. but they weren't neutral towards him--instead, these people he views as being Like Him, But Living Out His Wildest Dreams, approached him to hassle him for accidentally appearing like he was one of them. local loving royal villain family approaches boy who is obviously projecting subconscious desire to be a beloved prince onto his costume design and goes "quit stealing our vibes," boy reacts with a parasocial grudge. his weird complexes about them shall reign eternal. he wishes he had a second, cooler palatine to beat the first, lamer palatine to death with hammers, and then bridal carry him to stand dismissively over dauphine's prostrate form as she weeps over the first, lamer palatine's corpse. and also he wants the second, cooler palatine to be hand-feeding him a bag of chips ahoy the entire time.

...i should stress again, this is alllll more or less entirely subconscious. alec doesn't know what the fuck he's feeling ever, this just comes across as a subdued vague annoyance/disdain for them.

so, why the weird "sexual favors" remark? it genuinely was not intended to be a harassing comment, nor do i think he genuinely would say he believes that marquis prostitutes his daughter if he thought about it for a second. but he does identify with dauphine in the sense that they're aesthetically similar enough for him to be extra-jealous about her. and so upon hearing "dauphine's favor," he takes the meaning of "you can have a favor from my kid" he's most used to as a child who was prostituted by his own villain father, and he projects it onto her. if i want to read into it beyond that, i think he might be unconsciously/impulsively trying to poke a hole in their family--a sort of [hopeful] "marquis sucks :)?" where he'd like to hear that marquis isn't as much of an envy-worthy dad as alec thought. meanwhile from the estate's perspective he was just a creep for no fucking reason. there are other, far more important things for lisa to be paying attention to during this scene, so i don't think she was wasting any time reading alec, but if she Was she certainly would've gotten a good show of severe mental unwellness.

#ask #parahumans #wormblr #worm spoilers #scarf don't look

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magicshopaholic · 2 years ago

Text

The Test (Seokjin x OC)

Summary: You and Seokjin deal with the possibility of an unexpected - and unplanned - discovery.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC

Genre: Best friends; angst

Word count: 5.9 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language; talks of pregnancy; mentions of death and amputations (Nari's a surgeon, duh); allusions to abortion, childbirth, complications and miscarriages

A/N: Whew, this was rough. Takes place the day after The Wedding.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @kflixnet (italics could not be tagged; drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "don't know why" by norah jones

seokjin masterlist | main masterlist

Seokjin is just done brushing his teeth, bleary-eyed and exhausted, when someone knocks on the door loudly. For some reason, his first reaction is to duck, as though afraid of a gunshot through the window of his sixteen-storey bathroom.

He splashes some water on his face and makes his way to the door, all while the knocks grow louder and more inconsistent. It’s annoying, not least because it’s reasonably early in the morning, but there’s something terribly frantic about the way the sound echoes through his living room.

Seokjin knows who it is before he opens the door.

“Nari, it’s - do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s late,” she says hurriedly, brushing past him without invitation and entering his house. “Or it’s early. Or - I don’t know. I’ve been at the hospital,” she adds, and her voice trembles a bit.

He shuts the door slowly behind him, taking in her mildly dishevelled state. It’s strangely similar to how she’d looked twenty-four hours ago at her parents’ house, but different in every other physically conceivable way. In faded jeans and a grey t-shirt that she’d changed into at the hotel yesterday, with her hair tied back messily, she looks completely drained of energy. Yet, her tone is upbeat, almost jumpy in a way.

“Are you - have you slept at all?”

“What? No,” she says, shaking her head jerkily. “I told you, I was at the hospital. I had to monitor a patient all night, so I’ve been hitting the caffeine. I had to make sure he didn’t conk off on my watch,” she explains vaguely, moving some items off his couch to make space for her bag.

Uncertain how to respond to that, Seokjin swallows. “Okay. Um… don’t you think you should get some sleep? You’ve been up all night -”

“I will - I’ll take a nap at the hospital. I have a surgery this afternoon,” she tells him, eyes shining. “It’s a below-the-knee amputation. It’s my first orthopaedic rotation all year but I’ve been with this patient since he got admitted, so if everything goes well, I’ll get to saw the leg off,” she finishes excitedly.

There’s a distinct rumble of thunder in the distance while Seokjin processes this information. “Jesus Christ, Nari,” he says finally, running a hand over his face. “That’s - that’s really morbid. And weird.”

“It’s not! The patient has cancer and he’s in pain - believe me, he wants this leg cut off as soon as -”

“Okay, stop!” He cringes when she gets cut off. “Sorry, it’s just… a lot. And not what you came here for.” He pauses, watching her smile fade and knowing he’s right. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Nari swallows, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and dropping her gaze. “Why - why would you assume something is wrong?”

Because the last time we saw each other, you seemed like you couldn’t wait to get away from me. But no good can come of reliving that.

“Um, you seem a little… frazzled,” he says. “Is everything okay? Is this about - about yesterday?”

Nari’s breath hitches a bit. “Oh. Well… yeah, actually. Oh, God, I don’t know where to start,” she mutters, covering her mouth and sitting on the sofa. She drops her head in her hands and groans.

Shit. Seokjin hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that the things he’d said to her yesterday would just stay buried - would stay on the other side of the door, like she said. But that’s too much to hope for, even though he’d done the right thing. He takes a hesitant seat next to her.

“Look, I - I’m sorry if it came out the wrong way,” he murmurs, not knowing whether to look at her. “I never wanted to hurt your feelings and I - I guess was taken a little off guard when you asked me. But… I understand if you’re mad at me.”

Nari frowns, and he can almost hear her brain working. Then her eyes widen. “Oh… God. No, no, that’s - that’s not what I’m talking about,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I heard you. Loud and clear,” she mutters, looking away, clearly embarrassed.

Loud and clear. It’s ironic, for he’d heard her loud and clear, too. The timing was impeccable - and fortunate - for if Seokjin had not accidentally overheard Nari with her mother, right when he’d been on his way to apologise for his horrendous behaviour, he may have destroyed their friendship for good.

You thought I was dating Seokjin? God, mom, there’s just no way.

In hindsight, it makes sense. They were never supposed to have feelings for each other. She knew it - he just had to put into the right words for her.

Seokjin clears his throat, trying to ignore his heart sinking at the memory. “Oh. Okay. What is it then?” he asks, suddenly struggling to remember anything else that might have happened yesterday, but drawing a blank.

“Right.” Nari nods before abruptly standing up and facing him. Their positions now reversed, she takes a deep breath. All her jumpiness seems to have disappeared; she looks more worried than he’s ever seen her.

“Okay, for the record, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but… it’s the right thing to do.” She exhales again, deeper this time. “Seokjin, I… my period is late. I - I might be pregnant.”

There’s that thunder again, somewhere in the distance. It’s strange, for the sky is blue, with not a cloud in sight.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I -” Seokjin tries to swallow, but finds his throat is dry. He shakes his head and meets her gaze. “Are you telling you’re pregnant? With - with my -”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” she says, pacing around the living room now that the words are out of her mouth. “I haven’t taken a test; I’ve been awake all night and the coffee and the - the alcohol from the wedding - they can mess with the result. A blood test is better. But the lab is backed up, so I won’t get the result until later tonight.” She looks up at him expectantly. “But… I can’t remember the last time my period was late.”

That last detail is enough for Seokjin. “Oh, my God.” It feels like a tree trunk that’s broken during a storm and is blocking the road, clouding his entire future as he knows it. “I - we’re going on tour next year,” is all that comes out of his mouth.

He knows instantly that it’s the wrong thing to say, for he looks up to see Nari’s face fall.

“Of course. I - I know. You’re - I would never ask you to give up -” But here she breaks off, and her face screws up as though she’s about to cry. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” he mutters immediately, getting to his feet and standing right in front of her. “That’s not what I meant. I’ll be with you, okay? Whatever you decide to do. I mean it,” he adds, squeezing her shoulders. “It’s just a lot to process. But… we’ll figure this out.”

Nari doesn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes searching his face. Her fear is visible and he wonders momentarily if she’s thinking about yesterday, about his hesitant confession in response to a question he never thought either of them would have the courage to ask each other. As he thinks it, another possibility occurs to him.

“Wait, is that why you asked if -”

He’s cut off by a beeping sound. Nari steps away from him and fishes her pager out of her pocket. “Fuck, I have to go. My patient’s vitals are dropping,” she mutters, moving around him to get her bag.

“Now?” Seokjin frowns, bewildered at this sudden change in atmosphere. “Wait, Nari. We - we have to talk about this.”

She sighs, looking more tired than ever. He’s so tempted, so tempted, to ask her whether she’s eaten anything decent but the words catch in his throat.

“I know. We will. I just… I can’t deal with this right now.” She shakes her head and heads to the door, pausing at the exit. She turns around to face him, and she looks almost guilty. “I’m sorry, Seokjin.”

It’s too loaded to be about anything else, but before he can ask her again, she’s gone.

—

Seokjin hurries into Big Hit an hour later, his mind going a mile a minute. There were too many variables in front of him once Nari left his apartment, so his solution was zero down to the one most within his reach. He’d blasted a message in the group chat before heading into the shower, vaguely hoping to drown himself, and had emerged to a single lone reply from Jungkook who told him exactly where to find Namjoon for the rest of the day.

He races to the younger member’s studio and bursts in without warning, all formalities set aside for now. Namjoon, head bent over laptop and a pair of gigantic headphones perched on top, doesn’t even notice him for a few seconds.

“Whoa,” he says, doing a double take and pausing something on the laptop before taking off the headphones. “Hey, hyung. What are you doing here?”

That’s a great question. Seokjin knows the gist of why he’s here, at Big Hit, in the leader’s studio even though he’s not on schedule right now. But he hasn’t the faintest idea where to start because suddenly, for the first time in over an hour, the full force of Nari’s news is occurring to him. He exhales shakily, still standing in the doorway, feeling like his legs might give out.

Namjoon frowns. “Hyung? Are you -”

“Yeah.” Seokjin nods and steps in, the door swinging shut behind him. “Sorry, I know you’re busy and everything, but I just wanted to, uh… discuss something.”

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” Namjoon gets up and pulls a chair over to the monitor, gesturing for him to sit. “Do you want coffee or anything?”

Something strong. But it’s much too early for that.

“Just water. Thanks.”

Namjoon nods and takes two small bottles out of the fridge and hands one to Seokjin, who unscrews the cap and takes a large swig, not emerging until he’s drunk the whole thing. He pretends not to notice Namjoon’s frown deepen, staring at the screen instead.

“What are you working on?” he asks, hearing the barely-masked indifference in his own tone.

Namjoon stares for a moment before gesturing to the screen. “Uh, nothing, really. Just mixing some stuff. Something for the next album probably.”

“That’s great.”

“Something on your mind, hyung?”

“Yeah, okay.” There’s no point beating around the bush right now. Time is of the essence and as much as Seokjin would like to skirt around the topic and make nonsense small talk with a clearly busy Namjoon, there are some things he needs to get out of the way.

“Hypothetically,” he begins, then pauses. Before him, Namjoon sits still, patiently waiting for him to continue. He tries again. “What if… what’s the company protocol on… taking a break? For a single member to just… step back for a while?”

It’s clear that this isn’t what Namjoon was expecting. “What do you mean? Do you want to take a break? How long -”

“Just hypothetically,” interrupts Seokjin, feeling his own pulse race in response to Namjoon’s tone. “What would - I mean, how would that conversation go? What would you have to do?”

“Well… I would have to talk to management,” he answers after a moment, and Seokjin can tell he’s struggling not to roll his eyes. “I would have to talk to marketing, to PR, who would analyse the revenue hit, the stock price and a bunch of other things. I would have to discuss it with Production, because a lot of content is in the works already, so if this… hypothetical member wants to take a break, he’s got to be really sure about it,” he finishes ominously, his gaze unmoving.

Seokjin is quiet, the slow realisation hitting him that logic is not what he was looking for right now, and that he’s sought out the wrong member in that case. His palms feel sweaty and he stares at his shoes, feeling his stomach churn painfully.

“But if this hypothetical member really does need a break,” begins Namjoon, startling him a bit, “I can work it out. I just need to know. Hyung, do you?” he asks after a moment, dropping all pretence of hypotheticals.

He sighs, dropping his head in his hands. “I might,” he confesses, feeling like he might throw up.

“Okay. How long are we looking at?” Namjoon asks, tone calm and deliberate. “A week? A month?”

“More like nine,” he mutters, hesitantly meeting his eyes. Seokjin watches with the feeling, once again, of a slow-motion car crash as the words sink in. There’s nothing first, then the registering, then the confusion, then the hope that it’s some sick joke, and then horror.

“When you say -” But Namjoon doesn’t need to finish his sentence, for Seokjin’s expression apparently confirms everything it needs to. His hands fly to his face and he’s in sort of a mid-gasp where he seems to be unable to exhale. It occurs to Seokjin that when Namjoon heard “break”, he possibly thought it was due to tiredness or burnout of some kind.

“Yeah,” he confirms uselessly, feeling, for the first time, a creeping shame throughout his body for he knows he’s putting Namjoon in an unbelievably difficult position, for no fault of his.

“But who -” He doesn’t seem to be able to finish this sentence either.

“Um… it’s - it’s Nari.” He doesn’t add anymore, and something in Namjoon’s eyes seems to soften slightly. He seems as though he wants to ask, but decides against it at the last moment.

“She’s pregnant?” He whispers the words, finally letting a gust of breath out.

“Yeah, most probably.,” he admits, his heart sinking.

“Um… when exactly -”

“About a month and a half ago.” When Namjoon doesn’t respond, probably because the maths checks out, Seokjin shakes his head. “In any case, I need to be with - I mean, I can’t just not -” He breaks off, finding it impossible to explain.

“No, of course,” says Namjoon almost mechanically, his eyes unfocused. He seems to be thinking about a hundred things simultaneously. “I understand. We’ll work it out somehow. I mean, we’ll have to get PR involved - I’m not sure if you’ll be able to keep it a secret - or if you’ll want to,” he backtracks hastily. “But, uh… yeah. And - and I don’t think nine months will cover it,” he adds, giving him a sideways glance.

No, probably not. Feeling sick to his stomach, Seokjin clears his throat. There’s so much he wants to say, to vent, to ask and get off his chest but one look at Namjoon tells him he’s burdened him enough for one day. He’d burst into his studio on a normal Monday to change probably every single plan he’d made for the group for the rest of the year or more, just like Nari had barrelled into his apartment this morning to change his life forever.

“I should go,” he says abruptly, standing up so suddenly that his chair wobbles. “I just - I just wanted to give you a heads up.” Without waiting for a response, he turns around and leaves the studio and the building, making a beeline for the only person he wants to see right now.

When Seokjin is a few minutes away from the hospital, he calls her.

“Can we talk?” he asks, striding up the sidewalk, waiting only for her to respond with an uncertain “Sure, I guess?” before he hangs up. Heart racing but this time with something else, he reaches the entrance to the hospital where he spots her jogging down the stairs.

Nari is in hospital scrubs this time, her hair tied into a higher and tighter ponytail, and her shoulders straighter somehow. She shows none of the anxiety she’d displayed this morning in his apartment, and Seokjin wonders for a moment if this is her preparing to cut a person’s leg off. Still, as she nears him, he sees a hint of nervousness in her eyes and feels a grim sort of satisfaction at the sight.

“Listen, about this morning -”

“Not here.” She turns abruptly to lead him away from the reception, up the stairs and down several corridors until they reach their destination, and she shuts the door behind him. When she switches on the light, a harsh, white tubelight, he’s momentarily speechless.

“You brought me to an on-call room? Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, the irony isn’t lost on me,” she mutters, shrugging. “But there isn’t anywhere else here that we can get some privacy. And I’m assuming this requires privacy.”

It comes out a bit like a question. Seokjin can’t be sure if this is the exact room in which they’d had sex weeks ago, a spur-of-the-moment mistake, with consequences they should’ve been more responsible about. It had been dark, with nothing but their sense of touch to guide them, warm and soft inside the small room while outside, it poured.

Right now, however, Seokjin can’t reconcile that room with this one, this medically bright room, clean, sterile, a reminder of when their impulses had got the best of them.

“Seokjin?” She breaks him out of his reverie. “What is it? I have surgery in a bit and I need to prep the guy and everything -”

“Okay, I need you to stop talking about surgery for a second,” he interrupts her. “I - I can’t hear about another dead person or a - or a body you’re going to saw in half. Just - please.”

Nari frowns and opens her mouth to respond but apparently changes tacks at the last moment. “What’s going on?”

Namjoon’s face swims in his mind again, his twenty-five year old friend and leader, with the burden of the company on his shoulders while Seokjin could do nothing to help him.

“We need to have a plan. I’m going to tell the company that I need to go on a hiatus,” he announces, his voice dangerously calm. “Or - or Namjoon will, but he said that it can be done if we talk to -”

“Wait.” Nari takes a step forward, her frown deepening into what almost looks like a glare. “You told Namjoon? What the hell, Seokjin?”

And something snaps.

“Of course I told Namjoon!” he exclaims. “This - this changes everything! Not just for me, but for him, for the company, for all the guys! For my parents, for -” He stops abruptly, this thought having only just occurred to him. “This isn’t just your problem, okay? I get to freak out about it, too!”

“But you don’t get to freak out at me!” she shouts back and to his horror, he can see her eyes start to fill with tears. “You think I don’t know that everything is going to change? I’m in the second year of my residency - and now I’ll have to cut back on surgery time, go on maternity leave, probably change specialties. If I’m a single mom in the city, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep this up! My career… it’s over,” she murmurs, taking a step back and looking away, her voice trembling.

“I didn’t -”

“No, you really didn’t. God, you think this is about you?” She sounds scathing now, her voice slicing through him with a fury he’s never heard before. “This is in me! It’s the rest of my fucking life! It’s my - it’s my body! If there are complications, if there’s a surgery, if I fucking die on that table - nothing happens to you! I’m a doctor, you know - I see this shit happen every day.” She shakes her head and scoffs, jabbing a finger in his chest. “You can walk away whenever you want. So, no, you do not get to freak out at me.”

Seokjin stares at her, all thoughts wiped clean from his mind. His conversation with Namjoon feels like a minor inconvenience from ages ago, her fears taking precedence over everything else he’s ever known or cared about.

“You think nothing happens to me if you die on that table?” he asks quietly.

“Fuck you.”

She moves past him to leave, taking care to knock his shoulder with hers, but he grabs her arm to stop her.

“Don’t you dare, Seokjin, I’m not in the mood for your -”

“I’m an arsehole,” he says softly, tugging gently and sighing in relief when she stops. “I’m a complete arsehole and you’re right, okay? About everything. I have no business freaking out.”

Nari doesn’t fight him. She turns around on the spot to face him, her eyes and nose red. “That’s not what I mean,” she mutters miserably, wiping at her eyes and not meeting his gaze. “You’re allowed your reaction, too, but… it’s going to be hard enough telling my parents that I’m pregnant while being single and unmarried, but if I have you blaming me, too, then I don’t know how -”

“Whoa, I don’t blame you,” he interrupts her, holding her shoulders now. “How could I blame you? There were two of us there, two of us who chose to go ahead without a condom.” He’s quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t our finest moment, but we were in it together. We are in it together,” he adds, squeezing her shoulders. “Nari, I swear I’m not going anywhere.”

Nari bites her lip. “Seokjin, you don’t have to say that,” she tells him in a small voice. “You don’t feel that way about me and I can’t hold you to something like this.”

“Forget about that,” he says immediately, shaking his head. “That was completely - I mean, this is -” He swallows and squeezes her shoulders again. “You’re still my best friend, Nari.” And if you’d let me, if you wanted it, too, who knows what else you could be?

But her own words ring in his mind, incongruous and unwelcome, reminding him of truths he’s not sure he’s likely to forget. Seokjin? Mom, there’s just no way.

Her lower lip trembles, and he resolves in his mind that no matter what else might be going on, he will not fail her when it comes to this.

“I’m so scared, Jinnie,” she admits, a tear escaping.

Seokjin’s heart hurts, so much, and he pulls her into his arms without a word. He feels her body shake against his and holds her tighter, his hand on the back of her head, lips against her hair as he tries, tries and fails, to find the words that can make it even slightly better for her.

But it turns out he doesn’t need to say anything at all, for after about a minute of their silent embrace, devoid of anything other than his silent promise to be there no matter what, she sniffs and pulls away slowly.

“Thanks,” she says with a watery smile. “But I, uh… I have -” She gestures awkwardly outside.

“Surgery, yeah.” He nods and steps away, feeling her warm body separate from his. “I’ll meet you at your apartment tonight?”

“Yeah. I get off at eight, so… after that?”

“Done.” There’s a few seconds where they don’t move, staying in the moment of a mutual promise. Then Seokjin steps forward and hugs her again, kissing the side of her head and feeling her arms wrap around his waist.

“For the record,” he murmurs against her hair, “if you die on that table, they’re going to have to try and save two of us because I’m not making it without you.”

—

It’s late afternoon when Seokjin heads to the dorm, and it’s the longest he’s ever gone without a meal. But hunger seems to evade him today, his stomach occupied instead with nerves and stress so strong that it’s beginning to physically hurt.

He enters the living room, simultaneously glad yet slightly disappointed to find it empty. He flops down onto the leather couch and drops his head on the back, feeling more tired than ever as his future swims before him, completely unknown.

“Hyung?”

Seokjin looks up, a bit startled, to see Namjoon coming out of the hallway, in his hand a backpack. “Hey,” he says hoarsely, not moving. “I thought you were at the studio all day.”

“I was. I mean, I am.” He holds up the backpack. “Just came to pick up some stuff.”

Seokjin doesn’t respond, not even when Namjoon walks over and gingerly takes a seat next to him.

“How are you doing?” he asks lightly.

“Fabulous.” His eyelids feel heavy, but he doesn’t think he can fall asleep for several days now.

“And Nari?”

Seokjin doesn’t respond. There’s a frustration bubbling within him, a low simmering frustration at how he’s lately been managing to constantly say the wrong to her. He hates it; it feels cheap and cowardly and thoroughly undeserving of her.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon,” he says after a moment, still unmoving as he stares at the ceiling. “For doing this. I know it’s going to be a lot of trouble for you.”

“Stop it, hyung,” chides Namjoon gently. “You know you have nothing to apologise for. It’s your life.”

“Yeah, but it’s your job.” He finally looks at the younger member, wondering how many more people he’s going to need to apologise to. “You sounded troubled before and… I get it.”

“Well… sure,” he replies slowly. “I have to have certain priorities. But they don’t have to be your priorities,” he tells him. “You should really only have one priority right now.”

I do. He realises then that it’s true. All other worries aside, there’s only one thing that’s non-negotiable to him, and she’d been crying in his arms less than a couple of hours ago.

“Have you ever been in one of these situations? Like, a pregnancy scare?”

“With Kaya? No.” He pauses. “She’s on the pill.”

“What if she forgets to take it?”

“She’s not the type to forget stuff like that. Actually, she is,” he amends, “if she’s busy. But… not with this.”

It doesn’t help. Namjoon seems to realise it, for he sighs. “Obviously, I don’t know what you’re both going through right now, but… you don’t have to worry about anything else. Not the management stuff or anything. I’ll take care of it.”

Seokjin can’t seem to find the right words to express what that means to him, so he simply nods and pats Namjoon’s knee.

“You and Nari,” he begins, then pauses. “Were you… are you dating?”

“No. It’s just been a few times,” answers Seokjin in a low voice. “God, I can’t believe how stupid we were.”

“Cut yourself some slack, hyung. Everyone makes mistakes.”

He scoffs quietly. “Hell of a mistake.” He shakes his head, the same feeling of shame rising up in him again. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he mutters.

Namjoon hesitates. “Which part?”

“Everything.” Seokjin sighs. “A year ago, Nari and I made a pact. We were drinking and fooling around, but… we decided that if we were still single when we turned thirty, we’d give it a try. Give us a try,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” He nods. “You still have a couple years to go.” When he doesn’t respond, Namjoon nudges him gently. “Come on, hyung. You said it yourself - you two were drinking and everything. People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“Yeah, but even that drunken pact was more of a plan than this,” insists Seokjin. “We would’ve been thirty, we would be dating like normal people, I’d be back after enlistment… and then we’d move forward with our lives.”

“Hyung,” he begins after a moment, and Seokjin can tell he’s trying to be delicate. “I know it isn’t the ideal situation, but… I don’t know, isn’t it better that it’s with Nari at least? Over some random girl that you may have dated but didn’t know very well?”

Seokjin opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Isn’t it better that it’s Nari? It’s not a thought that’s crossed his mind thus far, the idea that having a baby out of wedlock with Nari is somehow preferable to having it with someone else. It’s been the most shameful part in his mind, the thought of irrevocably changing the most important relationship in his life. His childhood best friend, his lifelong constant, now quite possibly the mother of his child. For the first time, it doesn’t automatically fill him with dread.

He pictures it, the unknown future now taking shape. Nari, her skin glowing and her belly swollen with his child. Nari, on a hospital bed, sweaty and happy as she cradles their newborn in her arms. Nari, right beside him as they watch a toddler take its first steps, the pride and euphoria almost making him choke.

It’s Nari. It always would be.

Seokjin exhales shakily, his chest loosening up just slightly, just a pinch, and for the first time all day, he feels hungry.

“What if she did forget?” he asks after a moment, almost hopefully. “Kaya. If she forgot to take her pill… if it was you in this situation?”

Namjoon is quiet for a few seconds. “It wouldn’t be ideal,” he admits, shrugging. “But there’s no question. I’d do whatever she wants.”

—

At eight pm that night, Seokjin goes to Nari’s apartment, half a block away from the hospital. He hopes she’s home; there’s a very good chance that either her surgery ran long or she got pulled into another one or she just fell asleep somewhere and lost track of time. Given that it’s been almost forty-eight hours since she last got a proper night’s sleep, he really hopes she’s home.

And the other thing, of course.

He rings the doorbell with a shaky determination, anxious but certain of what he wants. When she opens the door and gives him a small smile, stepping aside to let him in, he prepares himself for it.

“Do you have it?” he asks. She nods in response, holding up a folded sheet of paper. “Okay,” he says, licking his lips and nodding back. “Okay. Nari, listen. Before we look at it, I just need to say something.”

Nari tilts her head and gives him that same small, forced smile. “Seokjin, I know. I know you’ll be there.”

“No, it’s not that. Can you just -” He pulls her gently by the hand and guides her to the armchair, silently requesting her to sit down. When she obliges, he kneels before her, his heart racing again.

“Look, I know I haven’t been… I mean, I’ve been a bit of a dick the last few days and I’ve been apologising for something or the other constantly,” he begins, spotting a hint of amusement in her eyes and feeling heartened. “But… I meant what I said today, Nari,” he says, squeezing her warm hands between his own. “I’m going to be right here with you, through everything. Whatever you decide.”

Nari swallows. “Even if I choose to…” She trails off, but it’s enough for him.

“Even if you choose to,” he confirms. “And even if you don’t. Doctor’s appointments, midnight cravings, diaper changes… everything. You can move in,” he offers. “Save on rent, more space, more help. My career is a lot more flexible than yours - you don’t have to give anything up.”

Her lower lip is trembling again. “Do you really mean that?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this serious about anything in my entire life. I think I might pass out from the seriousness.”

She chuckles and his heart leaps. “Thanks.” Her thumb strokes the back of his hand lightly. Seokjin wonders if it would be inappropriate to kiss her right now; just a peck on the lips, more out of comfort than anything else. Before he can consider it, however, she reaches for the folded paper and Seokjin realises he’d forgotten why he’d come over in the first place.

“You ready?” she asks, sitting on the edge of the chair.

Seokjin nods, moving backwards to sit adjacent to her on her mismatched sofa. He clasps his hands together, his chest going back to contracting painfully as she slowly unfolds the sheet, a medical-looking document with the hospital logo on the top right corner.

He watches as her eyes scan the sheet, clearly making sense of numbers and results he has no idea about. Then her face goes slack and she exhales, her breath coming out raggedly.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers, and her mouth starts trembling again.

“Nari, it’s okay, I -”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“- will be - what?”

Nari lowers the sheet of paper and tilts it towards him. “My hCG levels are completely normal. They’re normal,” she repeats, although it seems more to herself than him. She stands up and drops the paper, ignoring it fluttering down on the coffee table.

“They’re normal,” she murmurs again, rubbing her hands over her face. “They’re normal, they’re normal - yes, yes, yes - yes!” She lets out a shaky, relieved laugh, pumping her fist in the air. “I’m not pregnant - fuck, yeah! Oh, thank God, I was so worried…”

Seokjin watches her, a continuation of the car crash he can’t help but watch, much as he’d like to turn away. His own anxiety is gone, too, and he waits for the relief - but it never quite comes. The anxiety is gone, taking everything else with it, too, and leaving behind a strange emptiness.

He watches her, trying to ignore the irrational disappointment he can feel deep in stomach. She doesn’t seem to notice at first, still marvelling at their luck, at their near miss. It isn’t until she turns around with the same relieved smile, the one making her face brighter than the sun, to see his own expression, and her smile fades.

“No…” Nari shakes her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just - I mean, this is a good thing, right? Now nothing has to change,” she explains, a different sort of uncertainty in her voice this time. “I really appreciate that you wanted to step up and - and I’m sure it would’ve been…” She swallows, and a small frown appears on her forehead. “Seokjin, come on… I mean, you didn’t want this either.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Seokjin nods. It doesn’t matter, he realises. It doesn’t matter that he’d pictured Nari holding their child or Nari living with him or Nari coming home to him every day - Nari didn’t want any of that. There’s just no way. It finally hits home.

“Yeah,” he manages, forcing a smile that he’s sure she can see through. He stands up, needing to be anywhere but here. “I’m - I’m happy for you, Nari,” he murmurs honestly, unable to meet her eyes for longer than a second. He is, it’s true. She’d said it herself: this was not about him. She’s got her life back, and Seokjin has got yet another confirmation of where they stand.

“Jinnie, I didn’t mean it like that,” she starts to say, but he’s already on his way to the door. “You don’t have to take a break now,” she blurts out. “You can go on tour next year, just like you planned.”

Good news for Namjoon, he supposes. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says softly. There’s nothing more to say - he can see that on her face as well. She looks confused, hurt - and somewhat knowing. But Seokjin doesn’t think he can take any more today.

“Take care, Nari.” Tearing his eyes away from her tall, familiar form, he steps out of her apartment and shuts the door behind him.

—

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