#maybe November but it was early in the school year

[tiredwiredanduninspired]

I didn’t know today was the anniversary. Damn wild ride

[maddy-ferguson]

not saying i love you is a crazy fight to have at 14 when you think about it

[jallerentrags]

Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

[tatoda]

You v’s Me || conrad fisher x fem!reader

!!MINORS DNI!!

request

masterlist

summary: you’ve always been in a competition with conrad which grew both of you to hate each other…or maybe it’s love?

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT towards the end but it’s not much, fem receiving, conrad being cocky and hot duh CHARACTERS ARE 18

wc: 1.8k

susannah is not sick in this fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

Ever since you were kids, you and conrad have had competitions every summer. It’s something that was never forgotten and the person who won got bragging rights the whole year until it was summer again. The tradition started when you were 10 and conrad was 11. It started sweet when your families visited the boardwalk but soon enough conrad was the competitive side to you, and he knew he needed to beat you in any game or challenge.

You both were now 18 and 19. You were starting your first year of college and conrad was going into his second year. He bragged in your face for getting into your dream college Brown last year and now this year, you get to brag and tell him you got into pre-med early for Brown during early admissions back in november but couldn’t tell him so you had to wait to see his reaction at dinner.

Everyone saw it but you and conrad. The whole family could see the tension between the two of you guys and your competition. It was declared that conrad had a crush on you the second year you visited cousins, laurel was the first to point it out to susannah, and then the whole family knew by the end of the summer but you and conrad didn’t believe any of it. But you wouldn’t lie, you had a crush on him and were just hoping to hate him to get rid of the schoolgirl crush.

“so y/n,” susannah began “what was the big news you wanted to share with everyone?”

“oh yes.” and put your fork down “i got into Brown pre-med.” you smiled and conrad’s fork froze with his mouth open and all you did was smirk at him “actually susannah, i got in early admissions in november. i’ve just been saving the news up for this very moment.” you gave conrad a tight-lipped smile

“that’s amazing news!” she cheered “we should celebrate with a late movie tonight!”

“a-actually we were gonna head to the country club, they are playing all the avengers movies in order,” jeremiah spoke up stopping his mom from getting too excited

“of course! we can do something tomorrow night.” she gasped “oh gosh connie, that means y/n will be going to school with you!”

“yep.” he moved some food around on his plate not looking up

“don’t sound too excited connie.” you mocked and he rolled his eyes without looking up at you

“yippee, what do you want? a golden star?” he huffed and pushed out his chair before leaving the table

“y/n it’s the first night, lay low.” laurel said from her spot at the table

“you know whoever gets the first point basically wins the summer, it’s guaranteed.”

“you and you’re little competition,” she muttered

After dinner, it was time to head to the country club for the movie. It was only a few people who got invited to the place so you all fit into the movie room. You brought a blanket with you because you know it gets cold there. You all filed into the room once cam arrived and sat down. You went for the top to have some space for yourself. But before you could do that conrad plopped his body in the chair next to you.

“no, absolutely not.” you groaned

“there’s nowhere else for me to sit.” you glanced down and there was a seat next to taylor and steven

“literally right there!” you gestured to the spot

“and watch them make out all night, no thanks.” he reclined the chair back and put the middle console up so there was more room for y’all

“why would you put that up?”

“because it’s a waste of space and my elbow runs into it.” you huffed and fell back into your seat “so, Brown huh?” why was he being nice?

“yeah, so what?” you looked at him but he was looking at cam who was trying to use the remote to get the movie started

“nothing, just congrats. i know you have been wanting to get in your whole life.”

“thanks,” you whispered not used to getting compliments from him

“i’ll still beat your ass at everything there though.” and he was back

“yeah right dumbass.” he flicked your forehead “ow!”

“you’re the dumbass when i get a higher gpa than you.”

“like that’s even possible! you know i’m already ahead of you.”

“you can’t process any information in that pretty little head of yours!”

“you can’t because you’re too busy drinking all the damn time!” you yelled back

“at least i can relax-“

“guys!” jeremiah yelled throughout the whole room “shut the fuck up for once! y’all have to come help with snacks.” you both sighed and got out of your seats. you passed by steven and he winked which you flipped him off

“that was your fault,” you muttered walking past him as he held the door for you—so kind—

“oh yeah, sure drama queen.”

You both followed jere to the kitchen and he opened one of the doors for all of the snacks in a closet before waving at you both and closing the door.

“five minutes to work out whatever is happening and then i’m coming back so we can start the movie!” he yelled locking the door

“fuck you jere!” conrad let out but his brother was long gone “this is all your fault.” he walked around the room. the only light was the upper one that was slowly running out of juice

“oh yeah sure it's all my fault!” you sassed back

“if you would just shut up about always being the better one then we would never be here.”

“oh and you’re so great conrad?” stopped about 10 feet away from you on the other side of the closet

“i mean i won our little contest 5 years in a row so i should get a nice pat on the back.” he shrugged

“you’re so full of yourself.” you laughed

“thank you. i appreciate that.”

“it wasn’t a compliment asshole.” you went and tried opening the door but it was in fact locked

“do you not want to be trapped in a room with me y/n?”

“no, you should have an illness that could spread to me through the air.” you turned to look at him “why can you just let me win, for one time in my life i want to have something to be proud of conrad!” he was taken back by your statement “i never get anything! i have to watch it all get ripped from me and compared to something better! i can never win anything! and you and your rude comebacks don’t help!” you ran your fingers through your hair “belly gets volleyball captain and a new fancy boyfriend, steven get taylor, jeremiah gets into a frat and has a girlfriend! i got pre-med, which is amazing but it’s nothing compared to yo-“ you mouth was shut. no, you didn’t just stop talking. there were hands on either side of your face and lips pressed against yours that were definitely not your lips but conrad’s he kissed you hard and you let your eyes close and fall into the kiss as you kissed him back softly and when he pulled back he looked into your eyes

“shut up.” he breathed out “you are amazing, okay? i’m sorry for the fucking competitions. it was the only way i got to spend time with you.” you were starstruck maybe this was a dream “you’re too good for me, you’re too smart, too beautiful, overall i feel like i should never be seen with you because you’re too good for me.”

“kiss me.” he blinked at you “kiss me again conrad.” he smiled before kissing you again backing you up into a shelf and holding your face tight. you brought one hand to run through his hair and the second one slowly lifted his shirt so you could slip your hand under and feel his skin and he shuttered under you “sorry, are my hands cold?” you didn’t stop feeling around his stomach and chest area which made him breathe out a long breath

“no it feels nice, different.” he moved back down to your lips and your hand slowly went around his body but you two were cut off my knocking on the door

“times up shitheads!” you moved away from each other and conrad fixed his shirt and hair before stepping out of the room and you followed. you made it back into your seats and cam started the movie switching the lights off. conrad’s cheeks were flushed in the darkness as he took some of your blanket from you to cover him and you

The movie went on and everyone was in their own place. Conrad slowly moved his hand to rust on your thigh and you froze as his hand moved towards the waistband of your pants. You looked at him but he was just looking at the screen. His fingers messed with the waistband before going past your shorts and underwear. You slowly moved closer to him and his hand was extremely close to your clit. Before you could say anything he took one of his fingers to rub it softly and you gasped, but no one looked back thinking you were doing it at the movie.

“you have to be quiet,” he muttered into your ear before continuing his movements over your clit faster this time making you open your legs for him

“con,” you laid your head on his shoulder not trusting your head to stay up and he moved slowly to your entrance sliding a finger up feeling the effect he has on you

“i’ve always wanted to do this.” he then slid one finger into you and his thumb rested on your clit adding pressure to the pleasure

“fuck.” he moved his finger in and out feeling the breathing from you on his neck and he was slowly getting hard under the blanket hoping no one could see “another.” you sighed digging your fingernails into his arm and he slid a second finger in moving faster in and out rubbing your clit and he also used another finger to pinch it causing you to jump

“careful.” he moved his hand faster now wanting you to finish, just from him and him alone. “come on baby.” he kissed your head “give it to me” he rubbed your clit harder and his fingers moved faster you could definitely hear the wet sounds if the movie was not at an intense moment

“cumming.” you bit down on his neck cumming on his fingers as he slid them in and out to let you go through your high before pulling them out and slowly bringing his fingers to suck on them “my gosh.” you looked up at him

“if it isn’t clear now, i’m done playing games with you.” he leaned toward you almost enough to kiss

“me too, no more games.”

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[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson's Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (1/5)

Part Two

Eddie Munson is many things, but he is not the kind of guy who will kick someone while they’re down.

Call it a hero complex, call it too many hours spent licking his wounds after particularly harsh words from a bully- whatever name you give it, Eddie is vehemently against hurting someone who's clearly already hurting, no matter how much he may hate that individual.

Which is why, in early November of ‘84, Eddie hatches a plan.

It starts in the library, as most of his brilliant ideas do. He’s spending his lunch hour pouring over a borrowed fantasy novel to try and get ideas for NPC’s for his latest campaign with Hellfire, but he gets distracted by a loud thump and a whispered ‘shit’, followed by a sniff. Eddie turns, book still in hand, and proceeds to drop the book onto the carpeted floor of the library in shock.

Because there is Steve Harrington- face beat to hell, hands shakily holding on to a lunch tray, and a salad spewed in all directions at his feet. The librarian- Ms. Boliene (a bitch to everyone other than her outcasts)- began cussing Steve out, demanding he pick up the salad, and Steve got a glossy look in his eye that told Eddie that he was about two seconds from breaking down in tears.

Which- honestly, that was probably the strangest part of this whole ordeal. Steve was King of Hawkins High (and maybe, Eddie theorized, was was the operative word there). Steve had been on a downward slope of popularity since last year when he and Tommy had their falling out. Billy Hargrove (barf) had been getting more and more popular, and, after last weekend, there was a rumor going around that Steve’s girlfriend, Nancy, broke up with him then immediately hooked up with Jonathan Byers.

(Hey, Eddie’s always one to root for the outcasts, he is one, after all- but kinda a dick move, Wheeler. Also, not great of Byers to agree to something like that, especially if he knew about the situation.)

Eddie focused his attention back on the scene in front of him- Steve was now crouching down to pile the wasted salad onto his lunch tray and was blinking rapidly, trying to stave off tears. His head was also doing this thing where it was dipping forward than instantly picking up, like he was trying to even stay awake. Which… huh.

Eddie was sure at this point- this was the lowest he’d ever seen someone get. Even his dad after his mom passed wasn’t like this- at least that bastard could still go out and break shit and get arrested. Steve looked like the only thing he wanted to do at this point was fall apart. Why was he even at school?

Eddie sighed and stood, crossing the room to where Steve was crouching. He gently batted Steve’s hands away and finished cleaning up his lunch, tossing it (and the plastic tray- because fuck this school, honestly) into the large garbage can sitting by the front door of the library. When he turned around Steve was standing, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I… that was my lunch.”

“The floor salad was your lunch? I could believe that before you dropped it, but after? Dude, that’s a low that you cannot reach. I have an extra sandwich in my bag, c’mon.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s arm, letting go immediately when he felt the whole-body flinch that Harrington gave. Eddie held his hands up, backing up towards the table where he was sitting previously. “I won’t touch you, but you should probably eat, Harrington. I’m extending the metaphorical olive branch in the form of food, I promise that I’m not gonna bite your head off.”

Steve assessed the situation, eyes darting around the library, before he finally nodded and joined Eddie at his table, sitting across from the spot where all of his materials were strewn about. Eddie grabbed his book from the floor and ripped into his backpack, pulling his lunch out and passing it to Steve. (It wasn’t really an extra sandwich, it was his lunch, but it was fine. Jeff always brought snacks to Hellfire and Eddie wasn’t even that hungry today).

Steve stared at the cling-wrapped sandwich in shock, then carefully set to unwrapping it. Eddie noticed a slight tremor in his hands, but decided against commenting on it. “So, uh… what happened?” Fuck, Eddie, abort, abort, that was literally the last goddamn thing you were supposed to ask.

“Um…” Steve finished unwrapping the sandwich, pulling the bread slices apart. “Bologna?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. I know it probably goes against your rich folk sensibilities, but I promise it’s worth a try.”

“Yeah.” Steve took a bite of the sandwich, then washed it down with the bottle of water Eddie slid his way. “S’not my first time having bologna and it won’t be my last. Not bad, though.” Steve set the sandwich down, licking his lips. “Thank you, by the way. Eddie, right? You played at battle of the bands last year?”

Eddie blinked in surprise. The change in conversation topic made him totally forget his previous question. “Um- yeah, that was me. Me and the boys- Corroded Coffin. Not your thing?”

“No! I liked it, actually. Very ‘stick it to the man’. I can get behind that.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve, to which he received a responding chuckle. “My dad- he’s an asshole.” oh shit, did Steve’s dad do this?

Eddie’s expression must have shifted, because Steve immediately started rambling. “Shit- no, fuck, I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t do this, my parents have been out of town for like, three months. This was Billy- but it’s fine, really! Like, I can see, and I’m not super dizzy, I’m just a little lacking in coordination which- yeah, the lunch tray. You know what? I’m gonna shut up now.” Steve took another bite of the sandwich and another swig of water, and Eddie noted that Steve’s knee began to bounce up and down.

Eddie decided to push everything aside and deal with it later. Apparently this wound was still fresh (both emotionally and physically), and while Eddie could get into a number of things that Steve just spewed out (his parents have been gone for three months? Billy did this? Steve is halfway to falling over but he’s still at school?!) Eddie elected to change the subject.

“So, Steve, do you know anything about D&D?” Steve’s eyes lit up and he launched into a rant about a couple of kids that he hung around. Eddie listened with a small smirk on his face, eyebrow raised.

Steve was… different than expected. Kind, a little awkward, anxious. There’s only one reason that a jock like him has lunch in the library, and it’s because he didn’t have anyone left to sit with in the Cafeteria. He reminded Eddie of an abandoned dog… specifically a golden retriever with Steve’s eyes and his floppy hair.

Curse Eddie’s big heart and savior complex, but he knew what he had to do. Steve was about to become the newest member of Eddie’s little herd of lost sheep, whether he liked it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven’t decided if I’m going to write a part 2- let me know if you’d be interested in one! I’m so glad to be back to writing after a very long semester of school. I should be writing a lot this summer, so drop some prompts in my ask if you want to see something specific!

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 12 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.

Divider credit to @saradika

November 4, 1999

At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.

Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.

You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.

Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”

“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”

You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 

“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 

Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 

“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”

You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 

Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?

Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 

Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 

But this feels…different. 

“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 

Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 

“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  

He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 

“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”

Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 

“Ev, I think?”

Shit. 

Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”

You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 

After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”

You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”

Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”

It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 

You hope. 

Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 

Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 

As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 

Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”

Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”

“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”

“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 

There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 

“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 

Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.

“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 

Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 

“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 

“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 

The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 

Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 

“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 

The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 

“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”

He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 

5:46 PM. 

You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.

Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.

Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–

“I’m here!” 

Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.

He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.

“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 

His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”

You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”

He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”

It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”

“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.

Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”

“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”

You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.

“I love you.” 

His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 

You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 

“I love you, too.”

It all happened so quickly. 

One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 

“You really can’t feel that?”

“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”

After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 

And then a nurse rushes in. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”

 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”

The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”

It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 

He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.

“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.

You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.

“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 

Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 

“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.

He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 

As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 

You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”

“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”

Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”

He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”

Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 

But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 

“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”

Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 

Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 

“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”

Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”

Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”

“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”

“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”

“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 

Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”

It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 

“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”

Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”

Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 

Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 

But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 

--

[mamsieur]

Ink and Smoke I Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary : Reuben's wife wants to play matchmakers with Bob. It usually fails until the whole squad has a tattoo appointment.

TW : none, full fluff, hyper self indulgent

Length : 3664 words

AN : maybe it's kind of a self insert fic because of the whole "reader is a tattooed girly" and maybe the bee tattoo is the one I have. Maybe.

posted on AO3 November 8, 2023

A few months had passed since the uranium mission and the squadron was settled to San Diego for good, and Bob had never been happier. He finally had everything and everyone he needed in one place. The squad was a new family for him, he grew close to each of them, even Jake.

Work was easier now that he was permanently stationed here, and he was glad that the squadron was a permanent unit as well ; they were always working together and getting missions as a special task force. He was able to teach new graduates with Phoenix, and he enjoyed being an instructor. 

Life was good. His little found family fell into an easy routine of Sunday brunches at each other's houses, days off at the beach playing dogfight football, evenings at the Hard Deck. Each of them got to meet the family of the others ; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners… Reuben was the first to introduce his wife, Josie, to the squadron and everyone loved her. They were expecting their first child and Mickey had appointed himself as godfather (not that Reuben had anything against it, but he had to talk it over with his wife). Josie had some sort of maternal aura that made them so comfortable, much like Penny ; even Bradley opened up to her about his past, and Jake always seemed to calm down when the pregnant woman gave him the "mommy" look.

As for his own love life, Bob’s friends had tried so many times to set him up on dates, and each time it had failed. The girls he was set up with had nothing to do with it for the most part ; Bob was sure they were great people, but they were always too much for him. He was a discreet and somewhat shy type of guy, he wasn't really comfortable with their extroverted behavior. And it wasn't like he was actively looking for a relationship; he liked being single most of the time. He had his ways, his habits, his comfort zone, and he wasn't in any hurry to leave it. His life was perfect as he saw it. But he couldn't deny that sometimes he felt lonely. He felt that way when he couldn't go home to his family, when he was on leave from work, or when he was asked to write his marital status on some paperwork. He felt that way when he listened to Natasha talk about her dates with her pretty hairdresser and how everything was going smoothly. He felt that way when he saw the girls at the bar only looking at Bradley, Javy, Jake or Mickey; he was right there but invisible. He felt that way when he was the last of his siblings and cousins to be single; his younger brother even got married this year. He felt that way when his father seemed to have to remind him that his last relationship was from before he left for naval school, and when his mother whined about her baby being all alone in San Diego.

Other than that, Bob didn't feel lonely. Not too much.

When he arrived at the Hard Deck after another failed date, Josie sighed with a confused pout.

"Why didn't it work out this time, Bobby?"

He shrugged as he sat between her and Natasha on the stool across from the pool table where Jake and Bradley were playing. "She's just passing through San Diego and she... I don't know, she talked a lot about herself, I didn't have time to get a word in. And when I did, she didn't seem too interested in what I had to say."

"Yickes," Natasha grimaced, "you did well to leave that date early."

"Oh, well, in fact, I didn't... She actually was the one who cut it short, she had to meet a friend apparently. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled slightly at the girls, and Reuben’s wife rolled her eyes before finishing her ginger ale, rubbing her round belly.

"I give up, Bob. You'll find someone eventually, but I'm done trying to set you up. I hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?" he frowned a little, not understanding.

"Like a puppy that's been thrown out," Reuben said as he kissed his wife's temple, joining their conversation. She rolled her eyes, half amused. "That's the idea. You always look so disappointed and sad after these dates. And I know it makes you question your self-worth, and I don't want that. So we won't set you up anymore, consider this my early birthday present to you," she smiled. 

"Finally - Ouch!" he chuckled, stroking his side where Josie had elbowed him. She sighed with a smile and they moved on to more casual conversation. It was another casual night, and Bob was loving it. The brunette was right, he'll find someone eventually, why force fate?

As the night went on, one particular topic was brought back to the table; their matching tattoo project. The seven of them still hadn't decided what to get, but Reuben had already made an appointment with a tattoo artist that he and Josie had been to a few times; she had four tattoos, and three of them were by that artist. It was fine line, discreet; that style was perfect for the squad. 

"So, except for Reuben, this will be everyone's first tattoo?" Mickey asked, reading everyone's ideas again on Javy's phone. They all nodded and Natasha scoffed.

"Robert Floyd, stop lying to us! You have a tattoo!"

Bob blushed under the curious gaze of his friends, and if his eyes could throw knives, Phoenix would be dead.

"Come to think of it, we've never seen him without a shirt on," Mickey remarked, narrowing his eyes. The other boys agreed and Jake grinned.

"What kind of embarrassing ink you got Baby on board?"

"If it's the name of an ex-girlfriend, I swear we'll ask for the whole story!" Javy insisted. Everyone tried to guess, making Bob more and more embarrassed and Natasha smirked, proud of her. She saw his tattoo once, after a water fight. 

"Come on Robby, show them, it's not that bad..." she encouraged him, gently squeezing his forearm. The blond man pouted and sighed, pulling out his phone to find photos. He showed the screen to his friends when he found the picture he was looking for. The tattoo was on his ribs and it was a quote with a carnation flower underneath. Mickey couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he read the quote, his eyes shining with admiration, "Is that a Star Wars reference?"

"It is..." Bob muttered, "And my older cousin has the other half of the quote."

He swiped and showed them a picture of their tattoos side by side; his cousin’s said "Do or do not." with the flower above it, and Bob’s one said "There is no try."

"Nerd," Jake snorted, earning a nudge from Reuben.

"In our defense, we were barely eighteen when we made them, just before I went to naval school," he shrugged.

"I think it's cute," Josie smiled and Bradley hummed in agreement, siping his beer. 

"How come you never told me you were Star Wars fans?" Mickey accused, "What do you think of the series? Without the last three movies, of course. They don't exist," and he chatted with Bob for a good half hour. 

Bradley cleared his throat to stop the rumbling, "Can we get back to the tattoo topic? We have less than fifteen hours to decide".

After some discussion and a few scribbles of their ideas on some napkins, they settled on three designs that the tattoo artist would be able to work with.

Bob carefully saved the napkins, and one by one the group went home. He decided to take a walk on the beach before he left. 

He liked the silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the waves and the wind. His week had been exhausting and quite stressful, and being here soothed him. The moonlight guided his steps home. As he made his way to his little house, he lit a cigarette. He was not much of a smoker, but every now and then it helped calm his nerves. Truth to be told, he was a little nervous to get tattooed. He wasn’t a big fan of needles. He just hoped that the final design would be simple enough so he didn’t have to stay too long under the hands and tools of the tattoo artist.

The next day, after a nice lunch together, the group finally went to the tattoo parlor. Josie was with them, even more excited than they were. They walked in, making the little bell above the door ring. Soft rock was playing at a low volume, and some of the artist's work was hanging on the walls. 

Bob looked around curiously. This parlor was nothing like the one he'd been in with his cousin almost twelve years before. Here, the large windows let in daylight, and the reception and waiting areas were beautifully decorated with green plants (though Bob suspected they were fake). On the coffee table across from the couches was a binder containing the flashes that were still available. And on the walls were photos of several finished tattoos and some awards the artist seemed to have won at conventions around the country. The whole atmosphere was comfortable and reassuring. 

"I'll be there in two seconds!"  your voice came from the back of the room. 

The curtain at the back of the shop opened and you stepped out, dusting your hands. Your arms were covered with tattoos of all kinds; some colored, some not. Bob watched you for a moment, impressed by the number of tattoos you had. His eye fell on the one under and on your collarbones; two daffodils with a bee in the middle. He found it gorgeous.

He was jolted out of his contemplation when Josie threw herself in your arms.

"Bee! It's so good to see you!"

"Hello to you too, Jo’ !" you chuckled, returning her hug, "I assume this is the famous Dagger Squad you've been talking about."

You gave them your real name with a smile and shook hands with everyone, "You can call me Bee though, it doesn't bother me!". Your eyes locked with Bob's for a few seconds and he thought he saw you blushing a little. But maybe he had hallucinated.

You offered them some tea or coffee while grabbing your sketchbook and pen. "Okay, so what were your ideas? Jo’ and Reuben here told me you had quite a few," you asked with a smile, and the group began to explain what they had in mind. Bob, sitting in front of you, wasn't listening. He was mesmerized ; you had such a sweet voice and a warm, inviting aura. Your eyes shone with interest behind your glasses as you took notes on what Bob's friends were saying. Your soft smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears blush whenever he made eye contact with you. 

He was drawn out of his contemplation by Bradley, who nudged him discreetly. You had asked him something, but he didn't seem to have heard.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your friends said you had some papers with your ideas. May I see them?" you chuckled with a sweet smile.

"Oh... Oh! The napkins, yes!" he mumbled and took them out of his pocket. He displayed them on the coffee table in front of you. He blushed as your fingers brushed over his, and Josie and Natasha noticed. They looked at each other and wiggled their eyebrows. An idea had blossomed in their minds…

***

A few sketches later, you had a design that everyone in the group loved. It was simple enough that you could make the seven of them that afternoon. While you were getting everything ready, the Daggers argued about who would go after Reuben, who volunteered to go first. But Bob seemed a little lost and couldn't say anything. Josie sighed and intervened, hands on hips, like a mother scolding her children.

"Okay, everybody, calm down. Jake will go second, Mickey third and then Javy."

"But why?" Jake gasped and Mickey pouted.

"Because you three are too afraid, I can feel it. Look at it this way: the sooner you get it done, the sooner it's over."

"Good thinking..." Javy muttered.

"Thank you. Then Natasha, Bradley, and finally Bob. As soon as you're done, go to the little store next door and get yourself a snack, okay?"

The five nodded like children, but Natasha had a little mischievous smile on her lips that matched Josie's. But the boys, except for Reuben, didn't seem to notice. The latter gave his wife a knowing look and shook his head with a smile when she just shrugged.

Bob wasn't sure what to do. He looked at you a few times as you finished cleaning Reuben’s finished tattoo. You laughed with him and Bob blushed. He'd never seen anyone laugh so beautifully. His heart raced a little, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were mesmerizing, a work of art. 

"... Bob?"

"Huh?" he hummed, still lost in contemplation.

"Bobby, stop staring, you're not discreet," Josie giggled and Bob blushed wildly. He looked around and to his relief the others didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. "You know, Bee is single... you should ask her out. You're totally her type."

"Am I?" he mumbled, blushing as Nat and Josie giggled, "I-I mean, I, uh… she’s-" Bob stuttered. He was busted. Natasha wrapped her arm around his and looked at you.

"From what Josie and Reuben have told me, Bee is really sweet," she said.

"She loves sci-fi, has two cats, builds Legos, and she absolutely loves quiet walks on the beach, just like you," Josie informed him with a smile, and Bob's cheeks turned even redder. He watched as you reassured Jake and explained how the machine worked. Your smile definitely made Bob's heart flutter. He wanted it to be directed at him. Not at Jake who was certainly flirting with you… although you didn’t seem that affected by it.

"She's a great girl, Bobby, and yes, I said I'd stop to set you up, but this isn't technically a date. It's up to you if you want to ask her out," Josie argued and he nodded, playing nervously with his fingers.

"I... I'll try?" he murmured, clearly worried about the situation, "but what if you're wrong and I'm not her type? Or what if I make it all awkward? or what if-"

"Calm down Floyd, it'll be fine! She won't reject you like that. Look at her, she's too nice for that. You have the whole afternoon to relax and just be yourself with her. We'll keep the others out," Natasha smiled as she gave him a friendly nudge. He sighed and nodded, trying to keep his composure. But then he frowned and turned to the two women beside him. "That's why you wanted me to go last?"

They just chuckled and shrugged. Bob sighed again and shook his head, "You two are a menace," he groaned.

As the afternoon wore on, Bob had to go out twice to catch his breath. He tried not to smoke right now, but the urge got stronger as his turn to get tattooed approached. He watched you laugh with Bradley as you tattooed him on the inside of his bicep. Then Bradley pointed at Bob and said something to you. You smiled a little and waved to him. He blushed so hard he thought his whole face was on fire. He shyly waved back and thought he saw you blush again. But you quickly turned your attention back to Bradley.

Bob's heart was pounding, he was filling up like a 10-year-old facing his first crush. 

And finally it was his turn. Josie and Natasha managed to get everyone out by pretending to go shopping for dinner - which wasn't exactly a lie. Bob was worriedly silent as you cleaned your station. You turned to him and smiled. 

"Would you like something to drink while I finish preparing the area? I have some ginger ale, Reuben told me you usually like it?"

Bob just nodded, speechless. How can you be so thoughtful? 

He thanked you as you handed him the glass and watched you print the last stencil.

"Nervous?" you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, "Where do you want it?"

"Y-Yeah, a little bit," he swallowed and scratched his neck nervously, "I, uh... maybe here?" he gestured to his ribs, the side that had no tattoos.

"Josie told me you already had a tattoo, right? Do you want them mirrored, like symmetrical?" you asked as he took off his shirt. You blushed. This man was really, really beautiful. His friends were too, you'd seen Jake and Mickey shirtless, but Bob... Bob had this charming boyish face and a body that you could see yourself curling up against in your bed for a cuddle in rainy weather. He had that old American charm with his wire-rimmed glasses, that little curl of hair that fell perfectly on his forehead, and that shy smile. You wanted him to take you out on a date anywhere he wanted and listen to his surprisingly raspy voice talk about absolutely anything... but you had to be professional.

"Yes," he replied, "I think it could be quite harmonious..."

"I think so too," you smiled at him and prepared his skin before placing the stencil. You let him check to see if he liked the placement. He turned to you and his crooked smile made you feel all warm inside. He was absolutely adorable.

"I love it," he said, excited like a little boy on Christmas Eve, "it looks amazing!"

"Well, let's get to work then, Lieutenant!" you chuckled and let him lie down. You put on your gloves and turned on the machine. You saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly; surely to calm his nerves. "Ready?" you asked quietly and he nodded.

He didn't flinch or move once during the session. You saw him grimace from time to time, but he was perfectly still. You tried to talk to him to ease the process without pushing him too hard, and to your own surprise, he was quite talkative. The two of you debated which was the best Lego set you owned - it was obviously the Millenium Falcon. He really made you laugh when he explained how Bradley accidentally broke his glasses and how Josie scolded them for being reckless while playing soccer on the beach. And you both agreed that Reuben and Josie would make great parents. He walked you outside when you said you needed a smoke break.

"I don't smoke that much, I'm trying to quit," you shrugged, "but some days are harder than others."

"Yeah, I get it, I'm not a heavy smoker either, but it helps... relax, I guess," he said, lighting your cigarette and then his. You smiled and agreed. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting, casting orange and pink hues in the sky. Bob blew his smoke slowly through his nose and sighed.

"I love sunsets," he said, "it's always a different color show..."

"I'm sure it's nicer when you're actually in the sky, isn't it?"

"Oh yes it is!" he replied excitedly, "Sometimes with the clouds it's like being surrounded by cotton candy. It's so pretty, but it makes me hungry." 

You laughed and his smile grew wider.

"So you have a sweet tooth?"

"The worst," he sighed with a soft grin, "I think I might be addicted to sugar. I mean, we all are a little, but sweet things are my weakness."

The way he looked at you when he said that made you blush furiously. And he blushed too, surprised at his own behavior. But you didn't seem bothered, so he wasn't embarrassed. You bit your lip and sighed with a smile before looking back at him.

"So if I asked you to come with me to the fair and eat our body weight in candy and cake on Sunday, would you agree?"

"Yes," he blushed, surprised at his own eagerness to accept your proposition. He chuckled and nodded, "I would gladly agree."

"It's a date then..." you smiled and exchanged numbers. Then you resumed your conversation about whatever was on your minds. Bob had never felt so comfortable with anyone, and neither had you. Unfortunately, the rest of the Daggers made their way back to your shop to pay you for the tattoos and take some pictures of them. They were all happy with the results and Mickey promised to come back for more. Bob couldn't stop smiling and looking at you as if you were holding the stars, and neither could you. You said goodbye to everyone, hugged Reuben and Josie - asking their growing baby in her belly to behave - and kissed Bob on the cheek when he last existed. You had to stand on tiptoe to do it, which he found adorable.

"See you Sunday, Bob," you almost whispered.

"Gladly Bee, can't wait," he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You waved him goodbye and he felt all light and happy on his way to his car.

The rest of the group was completely forgotten, but they were watching from a distance. They were surprised and so lost by what they had just witnessed, except for Nat and Josie who were really proud of their part in it. They discreetly high-fived and giggled.

"What did you do?" Reuben finally asked his wife, curious.

"Me? Nothing," she smiled at him before looking at Bob, who didn't stop smiling. She took her husband's hand on the way to their car and chuckled, "I just encouraged fate."

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

There’s something different about Potter.

Draco heard the other boy had spent the summer before seventh year at some sort of student duelling program in Russia. Maybe he was hit with a lingering giddiness spell. Or he hit his head and is even more of an idiot than before.

Stupid Potter, with his stupid smiles.

The other boy is often writing letters or in the owlery, and the amount of owlpost he receives is far greater than in previous years. Weasley and Granger keep giving him looks when he gets a letter or a package, too. Maybe Potter made a new friend and the golden trio’s about to fall apart.

(Draco keeps his fingers crossed for that option.)

The first morning that’s chilly enough to necessitate a muffler, it all becomes clear. 

Draco spots Potter, Granger, and the Weasel in the courtyard during a free period. “Oi, Potter – what’s with the scarf? Gryffindor doesn’t want you any more?”

Instead of the expected red and gold, the muffler wrapped around Potter’s stupid head is navy with black trim.

Weasley, predictably, turns a startling shade of red; Potter and Granger roll their eyes at him.

“Wow, Malfoy, top-notch insult. Slytherin’s best never ceases to impress,” Potter deadpans.

“That’s one way to say you know nothing about the colours of other magical schools,” Granger snipes. “How expectedly Anglocentric of you.”

“Harry’s boyfriend is–”

What. “Boyfriend?”

“Ron…” Potter sighs, and oh, he is blushing.

Draco sneers. “Oh, a boyfriend at Koldovstoretz, eh? I’ve heard that one before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Weasley growls.

“How pathetic, making up a fake boyfriend.”

“Why would I make up a boyfriend?” Potter says incredulously. “I don’t care whether other people know about Vee or not.”

“Just ignore him, boys,” Granger says, and the three do just that, to Draco’s indignation.

Pshah, like anyone would be interested in dating Potter.

…And what kind of a name is ‘Vee,’ anyway?

—

But, as becomes obvious in early November, someone actually is interested in dating Potter. Or the scruffy git is so desperate to prove his boyfriend is real that he has someone pretend to send him a Howler love letter. Either way, it’s downright embarrassing to hear across the Great Hall - almost enough to put him off his breakfast.

Potter opens the red parchment cautiously, but relaxes as soon as he hears the voice it contains.

“Hello, darling,” the Howler says in a smooth, cultured voice, with the barest hint of an accent. Draco swears it sounds a little familiar. “I wanted to wish you good luck for your first quidditch game of the season. I know you’ll do phenomenally. One day, I’ll be in the stands, but for now know I am there in spirit, zolotse.”

Several other students swoon and start tittering to each other over the romantic cheesy message. Really, how sweet crass to send that schlock as a Howler, forcing everyone to hear it.

Stupid Potter and his stupid Russian boyfriend.

He was planning to cheer for Ravenclaw in today’s match anyway, but now he really hopes they crush Potter and his merry band of Gryffindorks.

(They do not. Draco is irritated for the rest of the weekend.)

—

The Hogwarts Express is nearly empty of students excited to be home for Yule, and Draco is doing a final check of the carriages when he sees it. He rushes outside to make sure it wasn’t an illusion some brat placed on the window, but no. That’s Tom Riddle, five-time IMC schools' duelling champion and Koldovstoretz’s wunderkind. And he’s embracing Potter.

Draco must make some sound, because Potter is suddenly facing him with his wand out.

“Malfoy, what the hell?”

“That’s– You–” he gapes. “Tom Riddle is your boyfriend?? He’s not Russian at all!”

“Who is this?” Riddle says, frowning at Draco, before turning the frown on Potter. “You haven’t told your friends we’re dating?”

Potter wrinkles his nose. “That’s not my friend, that’s Draco Malfoy.”

Rude.

Understanding dawns in Riddle’s eyes and the frown dissipates.

Doubly rude.

“And everyone knows we’re dating. You sent a Howler to me at breakfast - the whole school heard it." Riddle looks so damn smug about that. "And people keep telling me to stop talking about it because of how ‘disgustingly soppy I am over you’ – their words.”

Riddle gives him a warm look. “Zaichik…”

“Your boyfriend’s name is ‘Vee!’” Draco insists. “How would anyone know that meant Tom freaking Riddle??”

“Because that’s what I call him? That’s what he likes to be called?” Potter says slowly, staring at Draco like he's grown an extra head. “I wasn’t aware all of Hogwarts needed to know his full name.”

He throws his arms up. “Unbelievable. How do you function on a day-to-day basis,” he mutters as he walks over to his mother, whose presence helps settle his vexed nerves. 

His only consolation is that he won’t have to see or hear about Potter for the next few weeks.

—

The first morning back from winter holidays, Potter receives another Howler. 

“Good morning, solnyshko. I’ve just gotten back to St. Petersburg and thought I’d drop you a line to wish you a good start to the term. I’m already counting the days until I see you again. 

“Yours, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“What?” someone squawks. 

Several different voices shout, “Tom Riddle?!” 

The sound of Potter’s embarrassed groan carries over the din. “Vee…”

Draco sits back and enjoys the chaos. At least one of those two love-struck idiots understands how these things work.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 10 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 11

You saw Regina around. You could spot her pink convertible miles away. It was impossible to ignore her in the hallways as the crowd parted for her like the Red Sea. Hard as you tried, there was no real way to ignore Regina George.

Your friends had been keeping a wide berth from you, probably due to your recent affiliation with the lamest of the lame, Janis and Damien, so you spent most of your time at school alone. It was fine. You couldn't go skating with the guys anyway, with the snow and stuff.

No friends, no Regina, and definitely no Janis or Damien. You spent the majority of your time alone. With the fog of your emotions and the constant whirring of the wheels in your head, you couldn't say you minded. You would've probably been shitty company anyway.

You were constantly distracted and away in your own world. Questions kept rolling around your mind, doubt saturating every decision you'd made that night.

At the same time, you couldn't see a world in which that could've gone well. Kissing Regina George, regardless of who had initiated it, was an omen for bad things. It ruined the life of Janis 'Imi'ike and that of Aaron Samuels once and then twice. It ruined yours.

And even if you were being dramatic, because life did go on and you'd graduate and go on, the turmoil you felt now very much felt like it. The only one that'd been spared was Shane Oman unless there was something beyond the surface about him. You doubted it. The guy was shallow like a puddle.

You knew—a lot of things you knew but never said a thing about, so did you really know?—that there had been dysfunction in your relationship with Regina for a long time. Back then, she'd been possessive and jealous, would monopolize your time, would keep you at her beck and call constantly. You'd liked it, liked how she seemed to need you, how you felt wanted around her. And then it stopped. She stopped asking you to her place and eventually began blatantly ignoring you.

You'd learned to take hints early on, particularly when you weren't welcome. You'd learned to stop knocking on the bedroom door after nightmares because while dad would allow you to sleep in the bed, he'd do it with a scowl on his face. You'd learned to not ask for things, learned to fade into the background, learned to watch out for clues.

So when Regina left you alone, you didn't fight back. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how miserable it made you, you didn't beg or cry for her. That was something you shared with Regina. Emotion was a private thing.

That's where your similarities ended, though. Whereas she'd learned to control her innermost feelings, you'd just pushed them away for later. Where she seemed to be completely immune, your condition was fragile, prone to fissures.

Or maybe she was more like you than you thought. Maybe she just had a bigger bottle than you did in which to seal away the bad things.

The thing was, you'd never know. A while ago you'd come to the conclusion that you'd take her back every time. You weren't sure if you could stand by that, but you also did not know if you could resist.

The end of November was spent anticipating Christmas, resisting the melancholy, and praying for snow days. You'd never done better in school because you were putting all your energy into homework and studying. The teachers liked it, but with the SATs already over with there wasn't much use for it. Still, you kept doing it. You managed to surpass Cady Heron with your math grades.

You had a feeling she was playing dumb for Aaron Samuels. You had to resist laughing at the irony. Cady hated Regina so much and yet was acting exactly like her. Why she tricked Aaron when he was single, you did not know. Maybe it was a power play.

Grudgingly, you admitted Regina looked better than ever. She was slow to lose the pounds she'd gained with the help of the Kälteen bars, but if somebody were to ask you she looked better that way. She was actually a normal weight, looked human and not like a mannequin.

"So, still not over her, huh?" You startled, banging your head against the lockers you were leaning against.

"Ow, what the fuck, Janis?" You snarked, whirling to look at her. You rubbed at the spot where you hit your head, frowning down at her. You didn't want to talk to her and the pain only made you more irritable.

"Jeez, it was just a question." She held her arms up in surrender, though the evil smirk on her face spoke otherwise.

"It's none of your business." You fired back and turned to walk away from her. The hallway had gone back to chaos once Regina had passed, so you had a little trouble trying to navigate the throngs of people.

"C'mon, don't be such a spoilsport!" She stubbornly walked after you, Damian trailing behind you two. "We have some very important information to share. And also questions."

"I'm busy."

"With what?"

"No comment."

"Cool, so that means nothing. Grab her, Dee!" With that, you were yanked back by the hoop of your backpack. Damian did not react to your indignant squawking as you were swiftly transported to the back of the school.

"This is your spot, right?" Janis declared as she ducked under the bleachers. "You got any cigs?"

"I thought you weren't allowed to smoke in front of your boyfriend." You said, crossing your arms stubbornly.

"Har har, you're so funny." She smiled cheesily at you, her face going slack as she searched through her pockets. "Today, please." There was a coin in her hand.

"That'll be seventy-five."

"You can't up the price!"

"Watch me." You shrugged, smiling in the same sarcastic way she'd done. Damian was watching you two like a tennis match.

"You're a fraud." She muttered as she procured a quarter. "Is next time gonna be a dollar?"

"I sincerely hope there will not be a next time. In case you have not noticed, I do not like you."

"Yeah, you've been real subtle." Damian piped in sassily.

You reached into your coat pockets and pulled out your pack. You offered it to Damian, who scrunched his nose and waved you away. You shrugged and flicked the lighter to life.

"What, he'd get one for free?" Janis watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. "You got a thing for gay guys?"

"He's got that feminine energy." You said as you handed her the lighter.

"I feel like that's offensive."

"Hey, I'm not saying all gay guys have a feminine energy." You said, taking a drag. "You do." You nodded at Damian. He only nodded back, a little smile on his face.

"Amazing, we've established there's no prejudice here in this space. Now," She took a drag. "Mind telling me why Regina isn't performing with the plastics this year?"

That was news to you. "She isn't?"

"I was hoping you'd have known something about that. We've gathered intel that Gretchen's freaking out about it."

"Cady's info isn't reliable anymore?"

"She's not in anymore. She's turned into one of them, there's no hope." Janis sulked, leaning against the metal. Damian patted her on the shoulder.

You hummed, unsure of what you should say. "You haven't, uh, heard any rumours about me, have you?"

Janis perked up like a dog at the word treat. "What, should there be?"

"No." You stated and took a drag. "Just wondering."

"You haven't asked before." Damian piped in. "And you don't seem the type to care."

"It was just a question." You defended, sounding fake even to your own ears. "Honest."

"No," Janis breathed out. "You- she- oh my god, not you too!" She took you by the shoulders and shook. "She kissed you!"

"No, she did not!" You tried to protest and dislodged from her hold. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"Oh, my friend, she's- she's plotting something big." Janis looked like a kid on Christmas day. "She's gonna ruin you in the most spectacular way. Maybe she's gonna do a solo and a slide show about you being a lesbian. No, that's too much. What if-"

As Janis went on, sounding way too excited about your demise, you kept smoking. Damian kept her going, humming and saying affirmations at the appropriate times, all the while eyeing you. You didn't know what his deal was.

He was a pretty loud, friendly guy most of the time. Not around you, though. What his problem was, you did not care to know. You could tolerate them for a smoke or two, but you had no desire to be their friend. As Janis continued to ramble, cigarette basically forgotten, you inclined your head at Damian and left.

Regina and Co. had done their Christmas dance routine at the talent show for years. It began all the way in middle school. Breaking the streak was a big deal. Mrs George was always there, filming the whole thing and dancing along. Secretly, you'd always thought it was more silly than sexy, but you'd never been one to complain about seeing Regina in latex.

Once school finished for the day, you wasted no time getting home. After the weekend, the last week of school would begin. The talent show was on Friday, exactly seven days away. So, the last seven days of your life, basically.

If Janis was right and Regina was going solo, the chances of your survival were little to none. You weren't self-centred, but it'd be dumb to ignore the signs. Something pretty big had gone down even nobody else knew it. If you were wrong for assuming the fight had been a big thing for both you and Regina, well, then you were wrong.

You'd most definitely have to switch schools. If Regina was gonna go ahead with her other accusation as well, that you'd done stuff to her without her consent, you could be facing charges. Dad would not be happy.

That could be something you needed. Maybe you would've gotten over her faster back then if you hadn't had to be around her. Maybe this was the last hurrah.

Toeing your shoes off, hanging your jacket on the hook, and throwing your backpack onto the couch, you headed for the kitchen. You were a little short on food. You'd have to make do with cup noodles for the weekend before dad sent you more money on Monday.

Boiling cup of flavourless noodles and bland broth in front of you, you got to thinking. Maybe you could cook something for her. A simple recipe, both an apology and a goodbye. You'd have to find an opportunity to give it to her alone. Too hard. It had to be something you could put into her locker.

(In addition to selling things at school, you'd done some paid burglary on lockers. It'd been fun, but the one time you'd been caught had been enough to stop you in your tracks.)

Your mind drifted to the Burn Book. You'd never actually seen it, but you figured it was some sort of scrapbook. Cady had made it seem like one, at least.

A scrapbook for Regina George. Now that was something. Cheesy. It would most definitely end up in the garbage. But, hey, you did have all the pictures Abuela used to take of you. And you could write in it too. She'd probably take better to reading about your feelings than hearing about them. If she would even read it.

You could try, though. You didn't want to give up like last time.

Notes: Slightly less polished than I'd like, but I'll return to edit at a later date.

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[natti-ice]

Never Been Kissed- Tom Riddle.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x fem!reader

You go out at night to meet a friend, and end up forming a new relationship.

Warnings: OOC Tom riddle, set in the Marauders era!

Author’s note: this is a reuploaded and modified fic I wrote a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

Sneaking out of your dorm room, you make your way up to the astronomy to meet Sirius Black. This was a normal occurrence, you two would meet every Friday to talk about what happened that week or what's been bothering them and just goof off. You and Sirius have been friends since first year and last year you two started this tradition of meeting weekly. Since you're both in your last year at Hogwarts, it's hard to make time to see each other during normal hours.

Crossing the castle careful not to run into Filch or worse Mrs. Norris... the biggest snitch in town. Thankfully you have never been caught, can't say the same for Sirius, that boy makes so much noise wherever he goes. After climbing the crazy amount of stairs to the top of the tower finally you see the clear night sky. It was truly a beautiful sight, the early November night was chilly but not bad enough for a jacket.

You're always the first one there, arriving at around 11:40 pm, but Sirius shows up fashionably late at midnight, making you wait.

Tonight he seemed to be taking his sweet time because your watch is reading 12:18 am. Maybe he's having a hard time picking out an outfit or got attacked by a wild banshee, maybe he just forgot? You thought to yourself. Knowing him, he probably had some superficial reason as to why he didn't come to see his favorite person at Hogwarts. You waited until 12:40 a whole hour late and finally decided Sirius Black had flaked on you.

It didn't hurt your feelings much since it was the first time it ever happened, but you're a little irritated that you wasted an hour doing nothing. You're a night owl so you aren't very tired, you decide to explore the school for a while. Standing up from the wood-paneled floor, you let your legs take you wherever.

You walk down many corridors, peaking into abandoned classrooms here and there while also keeping an eye out for Filtch. Eventually, you find yourself outside of the castle and decide to go by the lake, you always wondered what it looked like at night. Walking around the lake at night is kinda creepy when you think about it but you also find it oddly calming. You don't stray too far away from the castle just in case you need to make a run for it, you find a tall oak tree and sit under it.

Lost in thought thinking about everything and nothing, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching you rather quickly.

"Good evening." A voice pulls you out of your thoughts, You look up and see it's the one and only Tom Riddle. He was hovering above you, his signature smirk on his face.

"Uh... hi Tom" You reply a little startled

"Why are you out here so late?" He asks calmly

"Oh um, no reason, I normally-" you say when something comes to mind "Hang on, aren't you a prefect?"

"I am." He says with a hint of arrogance and pride in his voice

"You're not gonna write me up are you?" You ask calmly but on the inside you're praying he'll cut you some slack.

"No, no I'm off duty right now." With a slight smirk on his face, he replied "I'm breaking curfew as well" he whispers almost playfully

You chuckle softly, feeling immediately relieved "Alright then... would you like to sit?"

He doesn't reply with words but with actions, he sits down next to you. Not too close but not too far, a respectable distance.

You and Tom weren't close by any means, you had only met this year in potions class. Tom being known as the introverted Slytherin who had a way with the teachers. You who laughed with your friends and wasn't an overachiever but still had good grades nonetheless. Slughorn decided to pair people who he thought would sort of yin Yang each other so that's why you two sat together.

Not speaking, you sat in awkward silence. The wind tussling the trees filling the air, the night got colder since you left your dorm, now you wished you had brought a jacket. You rub your hands up and down your arms trying to warm up

"Are you cold?" Tom asks noticing your slight shivering

"Kinda... yeah" you replied

"Here take my sweater" he said pulling off his grey cable knit sweater

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Just take it... please." He said the last part softer

He had a hard time controlling his temper at times, he was working on not letting little things get to him.

"Thank you." You softly smiled at him, a small silence falls over you two as you put on his sweater. Wanting the conversation to continue you ask, "Did you see professor Dumbledore's outfit today?"

The both of you engrossed yourselves in conversation for 15 minutes straight jumping from topic to topic. Once you started talking it felt like you had been talking to each other for years.

"And then I bit her." You admitted embarrassedly after telling him a story of an altercation you had with a girl a few years ago.

"You bit her?!?" Tom asks with a shocked expression

"I did, I didn't mean to it was just instinct I guess."

"Wow remind me never to do that to you" Tom laughs

"It was so embarrassing it keeps me up at night" you sigh as you remember the embarrassment. "Okay, I have to know something embarrassing about you now." You say trying to divert the attention off of you

"What? Why?" He says with a puzzled look

"I mean, it's only fair"

He sighs "Ok ok fine, umm... I haven't had my first kiss." He swallowed

"I'm being serious Tom." You chuckle not believing him for one second

"So am I." Tom said with a straight face

"Oh." Your laughter immediately stops

"Is that so surprising?" He asks, almost sounding irritated by your response

"Actually yes, yes it is" You stated

"How?" He was genuinely curious about what she thought of him

"I mean, I figured you would've had a girlfriend or something. Like you're attractive and not terribly hard to get along with." You laugh softly while explaining

He suppressed his smile before he spoke next to not let you know how much your words affect him.

"No, no girlfriend. It's not that I'm waiting or anything, the moment just hasn't come I guess. Sometimes I just want to get it over with"

A pause

"I'll do it." You speak, not knowing what came over you

"Excuse me?" He questioned

"I'll kiss you" you offer

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, friends help each other out, right? It's up to you" you say not wanting to push him into anything.

He wondered if he should or not, he always thought you beautiful. He never had the courage to talk to you until he was paired with you in potions. What if I suck at it? What if she doesn't like it and tells all her friends? He thought. No, stop you'll be fine just go for it.

"Okay" he replied

He said yes, he actually said yes. You didn't think he would actually say yes but he did. You were very thankful he did because that would've been embarrassing if he said no.

You scoot closer to him slightly to close the gap between you. You search his eyes trying to find any ounce of doubt, you felt butterflies as what was about to happen hits you completely.

"Ready?" You whisper

"Yeah" he whispers back flicking his eyes down at your lips then back to your gaze. Slowly moving his head forward.

Copying his motion you lean in. As your lips connect your eyes flutters closed, Tom brings his right hand up to gently cradle your face. Rhythmically you two move your mouths as one, in a sweet gentle kiss.

After a few seconds he pulls away, both of your faces feel red hot. Not sure what to do next Tom clears his throat and looks down at his watch.

"It's late... we should probably go back to the castle" he says

"Yeah you're right" you agree feeling embarrassed

Tom rises first, he offers you a hand. You hesitate a moment before accepting it, allowing him to pull you up. Tom hand lingers on yours for a second too long before releasing.

Walking side by side into the castle headed toward your dorm. Tom insisted on dropping you off. You both walked together in a thick silence.

Making it to your common room entrance, it's time to say goodnight.

"I had fun tonight" you spoke first

"Yeah I did too" he smiles very softly

"I uh, I guess this is Goodnight" you smile "Goodnight Tom"

"Goodnight Y/N"Tom turns around walking a few steps before you notice you still have on his sweater.

"Wait, Tom, your sweater." You call out to him

He turns to face her with that same small smile

"Keep it, it looks better on you."Tom walks away.

You smile to yourself and think to yourself I think I like Tom Riddle.

[thissortofsorcery]

30. “this is my husband/boyfriend”

SURPRISE!!!!!! Damn, you all sent me these prompts over a year ago, and I really dropped the ball. I finally got around to writing now that I'm trying to get back into writing slowly after taking a long break. Writing about the boys made me so so happy, I missed them so much. I hope you enjoy this, even a year later!

----

Soft prompt number 30: This is my boyfriend

Billy flicks the turn signal to park the Camaro on the curb, trying to ignore the anxious clench of his stomach. 

He hears the crunch of the leaves under the tires; the sidewalk is littered with them, yellow and orange and brown, picked from the branches of the trees by the wind. Fall is in full swing in early November, and Billy shivers at the cold air coming through the open window. He’s less annoyed with the cold than he used to be back when he first moved to Hawkins, but it’s still terrible. He’s bundled up in enough layers under his leather jacket as it is; Joyce wouldn’t let him leave the house without putting a sweater on, rambling about the weather in Indianapolis. 

Billy double-checks the address Steve sent him on the GPS needlessly — the university library stands tall and imposing to his left, the red bricks of the building looking faded in the watery light coming through the heavy clouds. It’s a two-story building that stretches wide across the lawn, with large windows and glass doors on the entrance. 

Steve is waiting for him on the steps.

He looks up toward Billy’s direction as soon as he steps out of the Camaro, familiar with the squeaky noise the door makes when it’s opened. There’s a grin stretching his lips wide, white teeth showing and eyes crinkling, and Steve climbs down the library steps two at a time. His gaze only leaves Billy to glance down at his own feet, trying not to trip on the steps.

Their bodies meet with a thud in the middle of the lawn, Steve’s arms coming down around his back tightly, and Billy sighs as he sinks his face into Steve’s neck and breathes him in. He smells just as Billy remembers.

The cold wind doesn’t break through the warmth of Steve’s arms, and Billy’s body relaxes, leaning his weight on Steve almost completely. Steve only hugs him tighter, holding him up easily — like he’s always done.

The tight fist in Billy’s chest lets go, maybe for the first time since Steve left Hawkins to go to college in September.

Rationally, Billy knew Steve wasn’t far, with Indianapolis being only a couple hours away from Hawkins, but not seeing Steve every day at school was more jarring than Billy had anticipated when Steve graduated in May. 

Billy knows from personal experience how insular Hawkins is. If moving from San Diego to a small town had been a shock, he can only imagine that moving from Hawkins to Indianapolis must feel the same, only in reverse.

Steve’s world expanded far beyond the comfortable bubble they lived in during the summer, and he met a host of interesting people he told Billy about during their calls, making friends quickly. Billy was happy for him; Steve still had some insecurities from the year he spent friendless aside from Nancy Wheeler, and Billy was glad he had people who saw Steve the way he did.

But there was still a niggling voice on the back of Billy’s mind, insisting Steve would get sick of him eventually. It fades down to silence now, blown out like a candle by Steve’s presence and his warmth, by the way he smiles at Billy like there’s no one else he’d rather put his eyes on.

“I missed you,” Steve says, and then he presses a kiss to Billy’s lips — with all the sweetness and hunger that Billy’s always felt from Steve, the feeling that Billy clings to when Steve’s not there, like an old sweatshirt that still holds his scent. Billy doesn’t wait a second before licking at Steve’s lips, turning the kiss dirtier than it should be in a public space, but Billy doesn’t care. Steve’s hands come to cradle Billy’s face, but not to push him away (they never do). Steve’s fingertips catch on Billy’s jaw, dig into his hair, until he can’t stop a shudder from going down his spine. Only then does Steve pull away, a smug smirk clinging to his spit-slick lips.

“Dickhead,” Billy grumbles, knees still weak, and Steve huffs a quiet laugh. Billy raises his eyes to meet Steve’s, eyelashes fluttering, and it’s like a punch to the gut and the first gulp of air after coming up from underwater. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Steve says, but he doesn’t move an inch away from where his nose is grazing Billy’s, so the words are spoken onto Billy’s lips. “Let me show you—” 

A wolf whistle interrupts Steve’s words, and Billy sees Steve’s cheeks turn crimson before he pulls away to look back towards the library. He can’t help but scowl at having his moment disrupted — he wasn’t done with Steve.

“Hey, Harrington!” An unfamiliar voice calls, three college kids standing by the library steps, grinning with mirth. Billy identifies the one in the middle as the one who spoke, the only guy in the group, with a douchey beanie and vintage glasses, the embodiment of the college students Billy imagined luring Steve’s attention away from him. Billy notes the breadth of his shoulders and his square jaw, and his stomach turns sour. “Who’s your friend?” 

This is what Billy’s been afraid of. The demotion from boyfriend to situationship, the “I want to see other people” said into a phone late at night. Being brushed off in front of Steve’s new, interesting friends. 

Billy stands up straight and squares his shoulders, tilts his chin up so he can look at the group down his nose; the same stance he takes when he’s facing down something he wants to bowl over. Something he’s scared of.

But Steve turns back to look at Billy, and the warmth in his eyes hasn’t diminished at all. His thumb strokes Billy’s cheek before he slides his hands down Billy’s arms, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. When Steve answers, he’s grinning, wide and happy, teeth showing — the same smile Billy saw all summer.

“This is Billy,” Steve says. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

And Billy breathes out, the weight of his doubts falling from his shoulders and being brushed away in the autumn wind.

Steve squeezes his hand, and Billy squeezes back.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[nanowrimo]

How a First-Timer Wrimo Landed Literary Representation

NaNo participant Demi Michelle Schwartz shares her story on how NaNoWriMo helped her sign on with a literary agent! She also offers some lessons she learned from taking on the challenge — and maybe it'll inspire you too!

Are you an author with dreams of being represented by a literary agent? If so, I’m here to tell you that NaNoWriMo played a key role in my journey to signing with my agent, Michelle Jackson at LCS Literary.

I received an offer on the manuscript I drafted during my first NaNoWriMo in 2022. Fun fact, I signed my contract during November in 2023, exactly a year after writing the book. Reflecting back, there were choices I made that I hope will give you insight into how your NaNoWriMo project could lead to securing representation.

Stepping Outside My Comfort Zone

I’ve been an avid reader of young adult mysteries and thrillers ever since middle school. For this reason, I naturally gravitated to those genres when I started writing books. Still, I’ve grown to appreciate all genres from my MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program at Seton Hill University, a top one being fantasy. When I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo, I stepped outside my comfort zone and drafted a young adult Little Red Riding Hood reimagining with Greek mythology.

Exploring a different genre led to me writing the book that got me my agent. So, if you’re interested in taking the NaNoWriMo challenge, consider trying something new. Along the way, you’ll expand your creative horizons.

Planning Before Taking the Challenge

Something I noticed after participating in NaNoWriMo twice now is that planning my books led to me feeling invested in them. As authors, we always have ideas bouncing around in our heads. Some stick, and others don’t. Taking time to explore my characters, plot, world, and more made me realize how much I loved what I was creating. Before I even started writing on November 1, I felt passionate about my story.

When you’re pitching agents, your goal is to sell your story. Having such a strong belief in your manuscript will allow you to authentically query it. Passion shines through, and if you care about your book, an agent may fall in love with it, too.

Taking Time to Receive Feedback and Revise

I can’t stress enough how important it is to receive feedback on your work and do several rounds of revisions. Once you draft a book during NaNoWriMo, it may be difficult to resist the temptation to send it out right away. Rather than querying a manuscript that isn’t ready, channel your eagerness to share your work into finding critique partners and beta readers.

For my manuscript, I did a revision on my own after winning NaNoWriMo. Then, I received critiques, made edits, and repeated this process until I felt my manuscript was ready. I queried my agent in August, and she offered me representation at the end of October. I truly believe the time and effort I put into polishing my book led to getting many full requests and my offer.

If I would have pitched the draft from NaNoWriMo, I’m 100 percent sure my email would have been flooded with only rejections. So, remember to take your time revising. The wait will be worth it when you begin receiving positive responses to submissions.

Now that it’s a new year, there’s a long runway before November arrives. It’s never too early to start planning your NaNoWriMo project. Since this challenge gave me the opportunity to draft the book that made one of my dreams come true, I hope you feel inspired to take a strategic approach to your NaNoWriMo project and give it wings to soar in the publishing world.

Demi Michelle Schwartz is a young adult fantasy and thriller author from Pittsburgh, PA, represented by Michelle Jackson at LCS Literary. After earning BAs in Creative Writing and Music from Seton Hill University, she went on to pursue her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction at Seton Hill and graduated with her degree in June of 2022. When Demi isn’t working on her manuscripts, she’s busy chasing her other dream as an award-winning songwriter and recording artist.

Check out her website, Twitter, and Instagram!

Header photo by Negative Space.

[brucequeensteen]

why did head (1968) flop so badly, you may ask?

the short answer is: terrible promotion. why the promotion was so terrible is another question entirely. there are two schools of thought: 1) bob rafelson and jack nicholson were being deliberately avant garde and obtuse (maybe to attract a certain psychedelic audience) or 2) deliberate malicious intent from columbia pictures to get rid of the monkees (by November 1968, when the movie premiered, the monkees TV show had been cancelled for 2 months).

(LA Times, 2008)

what exactly was the ad campaign? Well, it was originally supposed to be Bob Rafelson's head displayed for a few seconds smiling at the camera--according to Wikipedia this was a spoof on Andy Warhol's short film Blowjob (1964). but in the end it was John Brockman, even more unknown, and he was just the guy who was supposed to be filming the clip.

from Andrew Sandoval's The Monkees Day-by-day Story (page 210). explains more about why they did this. Micky also says he thinks it was a way to get back at the monkees for striking on the first day of filming when they found out they would get no creative credit for the film and had been "getting ripped off pretty badly" basically for years.

another factor was the critics reviews. obviously Head is not your average film, and loads of reviews looked down on it as psychedelic garbled trash. they didn't get it. there were positive reviews of course, but most people just didnt get it (and you cant really blame them - its at its most enjoyable when you are a) a bit of a freak, b) a total anti-capitalist, or c) substantially aware of the horrors the monkees were going through at this point. no film critic at the time ticked all 3 of these boxes). i think at this point bob rafelson panicked, because he wanted the film to do well, he just wanted it to do well independent of the monkees (hubris). there's a funny story about the night before the movie premiered in new york, he and jack nicholson got arrested for putting up stickers promoting head, after jack tried to put one on a police officer's helmet. and it makes me wonder why he then didn't fight harder for the film to do well.

it's funny (re: sad) how so many things came together to bring about the doom of the film: bob rafelson and jack nicholson's own cockiness about how well the film would do, their complete disregard of the what the monkees themselves wanted, the studio being tired of the monkees/already having cancelled the show, the whole phenomenon dying out a little since record sales had gone down (the last album they put out was in february 1968 - by this point it was november, and the Head album wouldn't be released until December)...

another peter quote because I trust him the most (again from the day-by-day story, page 210)

Mike over the years has said different things, at one point calling Head an assisted suicide (pertaining to his own desires to kill the monkees phenomenon and be seen as a serious musician), at other points calling it a murder (which i think is how peter continued to see it throughout most of his life, while simultaneously recognising its artistic and cinematic merit, and also saying the soundtrack was the record he was proudest of besides headquarters 1967). but here's something Mike said in the Head commentary (some time in the early 2000s) which i find simultaneously funny and devestating:

so yeah. the main conclusion is that nothing was in Head's favour for it to do well. there were conflicting visions, conflicting motivations, a total lack of interest from Columbia pictures, and no one was on the Monkees' side, not even really the monkees themselves. the world just wasn't ready for the crazy anti-monkees monkee movie. their swag was too different. everybody wanted to kill them. but they didnt have to cos they killed themselves it happens right at the start of the movie and again at the end. WATCH HEAD.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #23

Hazel Wells and the Multiverse of Jenkins

PFFT-EH?-EHHH? It's confirmed daylight savings time? Then take down the posters that've been up for 30 episodes implying it was November, you goofs.

I'm thinking Hazel showed up around September or October (i.e. before the November Sneezy Hawkins dance and we know she was in school for a few weeks before the exam at the end of "Teacher's Pal," because she told us), then Antony came home for winter break, and now it's March. That gives us a good estimate of things like founder's day and Dev's birthday. In fact, we know exactly what the length of time between those two dates is because Dev told us his birthday was 9 years, 7 months, and 14 days ago. I guess that checks out since Antony probably came home in December. If it's March for daylight savings, that would be another 3 months. This also implies Dimmadelphia is farther south than Dimmsdale, which occasionally saw snow (though it's possible godkids were wishing for it). Dimmadelphia doesn't seem to get snow.

Or he could just say "set your clocks BACK" as soon as I unpause and I'll just... sit here with my little notes. it's fine.

We're confirmed for fall, then. Possibly Hazel's been here a year if the posters are to be believed, but also at this point, those posters stay up all year round, so they're not to be trusted even for Episode 1. Unclear what the summer situation is, but I'll make a proper timeline another time.

I would say this is the key episode to build a timeline around. Then roughly place Dev's birthday and then Founder's Day the appropriate time apart and fill in the blanks.

Looks like "Operation: Birthday Takeback" aired July 31st, which might be a good place to start if I want to canonize Dev's birthday date for fanfic purposes.

Founder's Day was around school because Dale was prepping during "A New Dev-elopment," when we know school was in session, so I'll do math and consider my options when I'm done with Season 1.

So... Dev just told Hazel someone has a crush on her, but I find that hard to believe because they're at odds and I can't imagine he has good reasons for chatting like this.

He called her a nickname, which he only does when they're not friendly. And no Peri to give her any clues...

I would not trust this man, but I respect the hustle.

Are we going to be manipulating time and space; is that why it's daylight savings?

They have a class pet:

Aw, I like how Winn became a Prime Meridian fan after the book club episode, apparently.

Huh. Was it Winn who had Shakespeare for Mimes early on? It's clearly in their locker. I could've sworn it was Jasmine, which is why I was confused she was afraid of clowns. Maybe she finished and gave it to them. I'm gonna check.

I say as I look up and see the clown toy sitting in her locker. Good for her for conquering her fears.

No, it was Jasmine (end of "Teacher's Pal")

Yes, those dance posters are still up. They're getting the boot from my canon.

Hazel's "next class" is Room 104, so that could theoretically be used to scout her classroom number. Which confuses me because we know she's on the 2nd floor, but okay.

I love Father Time; he's such a silly guy.

I like how Hazel is just... so stressed out about Jenkins having a crush on her.

I particularly enjoy like how after he said she was so confident in a flirty voice, Hazel's body literally shatters and then she rushes to the cereal, throws back her head, and gobbles it in bulk. She wants this so little, she's not willing to return his affection whatsoever. sldfkj.

Hazel in "Prime Meridian Love": I don't want a relationship; I'm only 10. Hazel now, even after I was starting to believe she might be growing a crush on Dev: I don't want a relationship; I'm only 10.

That's so funny...

Timmy: I have a crush on someone even though she's not interested in me, but I hope she'll change her mind. Hazel: you guys are having crushes??

I really like how Hazel's specific reason for not wanting Jenkins to like her is "I'm too self-conscious and can't remember how to act normal." She's a very anxious character...

It's not that she's into someone else, and it's not that she has anything against Jenkins specifically. She just is way too anxious and doesn't want to deal with it.

Hazel, scrambling for a way out without hurting Jenkins' feelings: I can't go around with you. I have a crush on someone else. Uh... Trev. Trev, who was behind her and she didn't notice: Did I just hear you have a crush on me, Hazel?? Hazel: /absorbs entire box of cereal in .2 seconds

She doesn't want ANYONE to like her!! she is 10 and squirmy!

I'm once again sad Dev cited Trev as "his bud" in Episode 1, but we haven't seen them interact. I feel like Trev existing on the periphery of her interactions with Dev would've made this even funnier, lmao.

That said, it's funny that Dev's description of Trev was "He's my bud, so he probably won't give YOU time of day" and Trev is out here like "I am totally down to give Hazel the time of day." He's just chillin' and smiling. I like him.

Hazel at the top of her lungs when the entire hallway flirts with her: I don't CARE who like-likes me! I don't like any of you BACK!!

Chloe and Hazel (to me):

Holy cow, Hazel. I don't have much to say, but I enjoy watching her screw people's memories up by manipulating time. And that's a heavy sentence to drop out of context, but...

Yeah, she just did 568 timeloops speedrun and now everyone has a crush on her.

Including Dev, apparently.

Should we be worried that Dev specifically cited the thing he finds attractive about Hazel to be "how ruthless she is," because buddy... You're on track to continue the Dimmadome abuse cycle!

Hey Dev, it's kind of weird to know her middle name. What've you been doing; who've you been talking to?

Wow, it took absolutely 0 thought for Dev to yell loudly about how in love he is with Hazel [in this time loop] for the whole hall to hear.

I am once again fascinated by how he's never cared for "maintaining a reputation" at this school in any way and he's willing to dropkick whatever "cool, tough, and closed-off" persona he's formed at the first sign of what he thinks is a better future.

Local rich kid desperate for affection once again willing to jump 12 feet if you ask him to jump 6. She asked him to jump 0. She asked him to sit down and not even think about jumping.

Dev "I would commit B&E for you a second time; please let me commit B&E for you a second time" Dimmadome.

I like how Dimmadomes are known for putting the Dimm name on everything, but we keep seeing Dev's first name used (such as in the episode title "A New Dev-elopment" or Peri's quote "I'm going to take you from Dev to Dev-ine!")

It gives me the vibe that yes, he's a Dimmadome, but he's a little disconnected. Wow, it's a pun AND sadness!

I can't stop thinking about how annoyed he sounded when the time came to finally tell Vicky his last name. All the other Dimmadomes repeatedly introduce themselves by their full name... but he holds back.

Also, I like how the O-pairs are always down for anything. Dev is their special boy <3

I really really like them for some reason and I'm sorry because I can already tell any Dev 'fic I write is going to lean into them. My curse of getting attached to weird background characters unfortunately continues and these might be the worst ones I've ever fallen for. I don't look forward to trying to search up cute 'fics or fanart of them. haha; I'm in danger...

I just looked up how to spell O-pair because I was tired of not knowing and I found this Wikipedia page:

au pair /ˌō ˈper/ - An au pair (/oʊˈpɛər/; pl.: au pairs) is a person working for, and living as part of, a host family. Typically, au pairs take on a share of the family's responsibility for child care as well as some housework, and receive a monetary allowance or stipend for personal use.

oh. okay.

IMBD's "Operation: Birthday Takeback" page lists them as O-Pair #1 and O-Pair #2, which just hurts.

Dev: My dad gives me the coolest gadgets. They have fancy futuristic names. They're my friends and I love them :) Dale, who knew exactly what he was doing:

Wow, it's TWO puns and sadness!!

Hazel's theme song, but it's rewritten for Dev and the "pair quite strange" who changed his life are the O-Pairs.

I like how in "Operation: Birthday Takeback," Peri's instinctual disguise was an O-Pair, which is incredibly fitting now that I see this description.

I wish we saw signs of Peri hanging around Dev, like a pin on his shirt or the headphones again. Or maybe I'm afraid.

This is nuts. How many hours did Hazel just live through? She needs a nap... Aw, I like the moral lesson for this episode (Letting go and not obsessing over things you can't change). Mr. Guzman is a lovely character; he's so friendly.

Also:

Jenkins: Um... I don't have a crush on you, Hazel. Dev: PSYCH! I made it up~!

She's SO mad. sdfjk

"DEV DIMMADOME!"

I've never seen her this mad. That's great.

Local anxious girl just put herself through some of the worst experiences she's faced, and for WHAT??

He's just a quirky little guy! You wouldn't hurt a quirky little guy!! He's just goofin' with you~

- This feels extremely in-character for Dev considering he outfoxed the never-before-beaten negotiator aliens in "Peace of Pizza" by memeing on them. He's just a silly wittle boy... I'm fascinated by the way his mind works. - I'm not sure Dev even knows how his mind works.

That was great! I liked that. I don't often see a character trying to work through feelings about crushes like this and I enjoyed it.

[celiaswriting]

new kid (m.r)

context: mattheo is the new kid at school and he bumps into a certain y/n potter...

insomnia. you were almost positive it was the worst thing to exist - behind potions with professer snape but that was a story for another day...

2:37 am, the clock read. and yet here you were, wide awake, putting on the thickest jumper you could find, getting ready to brave the icy november air all for a cigarette; a habit you swore to all your friends you had broken months ago.

you couldn't help it. it was the only thing that calmed you down enough and made sure you actually got some sleep, even if it was only an hour before you were woken up by your extremely noisy dorm mate getting ready for her daily run. although, seeing her so energetic every morning was only a reminder of your constant fatigue.

making your way to your usual smoke spot, the astronomy tower, you faltered as you realised someone was already walking up the stairs towards it.

mattheo riddle.

you took a couple of steps back as you considered just walking back to your dorm but decided you couldn't bear the torture of laying in your bed staring at your ceiling till the early hours of the morning.

despite mattheo only arriving at hogwarts yesterday morning, everyone knew who he was. voldemort's son. but you, being harry potter's elder sister, everyone knew who you was too.

you knew you should just go back to the safety of your bed and maybe try to actually stop this bad habit but a part of you couldn't.

mattheo could be just like his dad. everyone at hogwarts is already saying he's evil. but what if he isn't?

mustering up some confidence, you walked up the narrow stairs towards the astronomy tower and sat down in your usual spot.

avoiding eye contact with a certain riddle, you got out your lighter, lit your cigarette and took a slow puff.

"mind if i borrow that?" mattheo questioned as he saw your lighter.

"mhm?" you say, completely oblivious to what he said.

"your lighter." he chuckles slightly as he holds up his un-lit cigarette.

"ohh. yeah sure." you say as you get up to pass him the lighter.

"thanks.. so, what's your name?" he asked he passed you back the lighter although his eyes remained on his cigarette.

"y/n. you're mattheo right? voldemort's son."

"yep. do you have a problem with that?" he asks, his tone, turning slightly bitter with annoyance.

"nope. just asking..." you reply, sitting down next to him.

"sorry. people aren't exactly lovely to me when they find out who my dad is. so... what year are you in?" mattheo questions.

"same as you. i think we're in potions together."

"oh yeah. are you in slytherin." he asks.

"nope. ravenclaw." i say.

"so you're just snobby then?" mattheo rolls his eyes.

" no! and did you really expect harry potter's sister to be in slytherin?" i say while laughing softly and lighting a new cigarette.

"you're harry potter's sister?" the curly haired boy asks, surprised.

i nod.

"why are you talking to me then?"

"believe it or not. i'm not scared of you, riddle." i say.

"why not?" he smirks.

"why should i be?" I retort.

"uhh i don't know." he says, sarcasm laced through his voice.

"maybe because i'm voldemorts son or maybe because the whole school thinks i'm evil. why don't you join the trend?"

"i don't think you're evil." i say.

"why not. everyone else does." mattheo replies, avoiding eye contact.

"because you're not like your father."

"how do you know? what if i end up becoming like him and just end up proving everyone right?" he asks.

"bad people don't worry if they're bad people, mattheo." i shiver and take another puff of my cigarette.

"are you cold?" mattheo asks, laughing slightly at your shaky hands.

"freezing." you say, teeth chattering.

"here. take this." he says taking his coat of and handing it to you.

"thanks, riddle. see! further proof you're not evil." you say smiling and quickly grabbing the coat off of him.

"well, i do have some manners you know." mattheo smiles as you rush to put the coat on.

"i've always thought it was beautiful up here. esspecially on a night." you say as you stand up; partially to admire the view and partially so i don't freeze to death.

"mhm." mattheo murmrurs.

"so.. um. what's it like being the chosen one's brother then?" mattheo jokes.

" i mean. I love my brother to bits but everyone views being his brother as this amazing thing but it feels a bit more like a burden to me." you tell him.

"constantly worrying if he's in danger, always getting asked what it's liked to be a sister of the famous 'boy who lived'. but harry doesn't deserve this all either. he's just a boy and i'm his only family left."

"it's your fault your brother is suffering,  y/n." mattheo says, turning to look at me.

"and it's not your fault your dads insane."

"thanks." he laughs softly and i'm sure it's one of the most delightful sounds i've ever heard.

"i like you, y/n." he says quietly.

"i like you too mattheo." i  feel y

my cheeks go red as i huddle myself in his coat.

"i wanna try something." mattheo spoke, his voice suddenly lower.

"go ahead." i reply as he takes a puff of his cigarette and blows it into my mouth.

i close my eyes and sigh.

"look at me." he says and my eyes flutter open, slightly nervous by how close we are.

"would it be okay if i kissed you now?" he asks, a suttle blush creeping on his face.

"definitely." i say and he leans in and softly presses his lips softly against mine.

his soft yet calloused hands ran down my sides and slipped under his coat as i sighed. you never knew someone who's kisses we're so soft yet so addicting.

he pulled away and laughed quietly before smiling down at you.

"thank you for believing i'm not completely evil, potter." he says.

"you're welcome, riddle." i laugh as he leans in to kiss me again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

okay i wrote this a while ago and this is the first one shot i ever wrote.. AND i haven't re read so i’m sorry if it's just cringy but I hope you enjoyed!!