#probably my shock favorite of the festival

[mellxncollie]

Conclave (2024) dir. Edward Berger

[junkissed]

bad neighbor

member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!

it's still early in the evening when the music starts.

the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.

with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.

living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.

you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.

by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night. 

tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.

you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.

at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.

of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.

with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.

you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.

tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.

you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.

quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.

before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.

"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear. 

with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass. 

and then… you have an idea. 

chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.

you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.

with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.

you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.

"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"

"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."

you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"

"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.

"uh, yes?"

"cool. head on in, then," he says.

you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"

"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."

he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.

the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.

the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left. 

you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.

there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.

you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.

"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.

with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.

he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.

he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"

"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."

you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.

he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."

they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."

the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.

"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.

"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"

"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.

he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."

you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.

"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.

"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."

"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.

you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"

he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"

"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”

"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."

he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.

unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.

you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.

"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.

"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.

he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."

you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.

"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.

he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."

your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.

"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.

"do you want me to stay?"

he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."

"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.

"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."

"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.

he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."

"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"

he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."

"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.

“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.

you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."

he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.

the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.

“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. 

he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.

he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.

you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case. 

as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.

or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—

he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.

you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.

“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.

you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”

he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.

after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.

“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.

he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.

you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.

“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.

you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”

“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”

the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.

the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.

“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.

he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.

“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”

the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.

“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.

his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.

“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”

he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”

he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.

his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.

his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.

immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.

“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”

he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.

he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.

“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”

you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”

his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time. 

he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.

"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"

the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.

"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"

"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."

the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.

“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”

he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.

your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”

“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.

“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”

you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.

“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”

“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”

“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”

he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.

you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”

he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”

you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.

finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.

“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”

“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”

cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”

“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”

he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.

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[ode2rin]

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

[jo-harrington]

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

[desceros]

me: [looks at calendar, gets a wicked idea, looks into the camera] happy springtime, turtle fam! who's ready to celebrate the season?

...mating season, that is. hehe. [dodges the tomatoes]

so! i had the idea that it would be super fun to have a community-wide event where we all have a prompt and then everyone fills it in their own way.

...i then decided all the prompts i came up with were too good not to use, but also none of them were Good Enough to use exclusively, so i changed my mind and the prompt is now just MATING SEASON. with a few suggestions at the bottom of this post if you're looking for some.

since spring is coming upon us, i hereby invite everyone to join in the vernal festivities... which in turtle parlance, of course, means only one thing: write, draw, whatever your version of "mating season", then join me on march 1 to post it with the tag #TMNTSpringShellebration. we then shall browse the fine selection of our mutual artistic efforts, and basically just have a good time as a community.

here are the prompts i came up with as starters-slash-things-to-include if you're looking for a place to get started. feel free to use these at will, or use them to come up with something of your own:

“Please don’t make me explain this. It’s humiliating as is.”

Oops, Looks Like Mating Season Came A Week Early This Year

“…In all of my mating seasons, this has never happened before.”

“I told you not to come by! It’s mating season!”

Probably should have expected it to be different now that he’s not going through it alone.

Because of Shenanigans, you have to wait. Wait… Wait… ok now.

They’re not the right person for mating season… but they’re the one who’s here, so…

“Show me where it hurts."

so yeah! see you all on march 1 for the, uh, spring shellebration. party popper emoji

questions i imagine will be popping up and i hope will clear up here before my askbox swells beyond capacity under the cut to keep this post from being Way Too Long. also it's really not that serious it's just an excuse to write slash draw for everyone Please Don't Take This Thing Too Seriously It's Not That Serious:

"can i participate?" yes! it's literally just an invitation to do something. nothing fancier than that. no need to be following me or in my friend group or whatever.

"can i write (insert fic idea here)?" yep! so long as it's related to the idea of mating seasons, it flies. reader insert? hell yea. oc? hell yeah. solo turtle and his favorite pillow? go for it.

"can i draw (insert art idea here)?" yep! uh. i know tumblr has the cops watching for sin bin material, but you art people know how to deal with that. and if you don't, uh, ask the other art people. im just a feral cat in a trench coat

"how do i participate?" write/draw/collect songs for/whatever. then, on march 1, post it and tag it #TMNTSpringShellebration. also, for funsies, keep it hush hush what you're working on so we can all be super shocked when the day comes! except, y'know, that you're planning on joining in. totally do that.

"when do i post it?" march 1. whenever on that day. waves hands around in a vague gesture at time zones not mattering. seriously don't take this so seriously it's just me wanting to create cool shit with my friends with a little more structure to it

"does it have to be horny?" i mean. it's an event about mating season. so by definition it's going to be at least a little horny. but however you interpret it is cool. even if it's just. idk. leo sitting sweatily in a chair looking longingly at a glass of water bc he's thirstier than usual. be smart about things, people. i'm not your dad.

"which tmnt verse is this for?" whichever one you want it to be for!! rise! bayverse! 2007! your fan iteration! your friend's fan iteration! your mortal enemy's fan iteration! yes!

"will you be reblogging everything?" absolutely not, but this isn't an event About Me. i am incidental to the thing. it's about Us. coming together as a community. for horny turtles. puts my hands on your shoulders. do it for you. for your friends. for the community.

[archangeldyke-all]

i’m so excited for halloween. i love all things fall/october.

could you write an autumn fic? 🍂

more specifically— i feel like the reader would have to force sev to wear some kinda costume for halloween >:) how do you think sev x reader would dress up? how would they spend their night together? ly mootie! ♡

my city's in the middle of a heat wave and it's HUMID too, it's horrible-- so yes, let's think about fall for a while hehehehe

men and minors dni

there is no doubt in my mind that fall's her favorite season.

and i think halloween is probably her favorite holiday too.

she's not a festive person, so even though she loves fall, she doesn't really indulge herself in things like decorating or baking.

but you do.

sevika doesn't realize how much she loves fall until she meets you. because you treat fall like it's your birthday or something. sevika's shocked to see how much you incorporate her favorite season into your day to day life. and even more surprising, she's shocked to find that she kind of loves it.

as the leaves start to change, you start making her coffee pumpkin flavored, sometimes adding a bit of hazelnut and cinnamon too. she fucking loves it, it's the best coffee she's ever had.

your apartment always smells like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves or flannel-- various candles burning and filling your space with the cozy smells and a lovely warm glow when the days start to grow dark earlier.

you start cooking hearty, warm meals-- stews and chilis and soups and curries-- sevika fucking adores it. there's nothing like a freshly baked slice of bread scooping up some kind of meaty sauce.

and your baking. sevika's almost cries the first time you hand her a plate of freshly homemade triple chocolate chip cookies, with a tall glass of milk.

she adores watching you start to get cozier as the days grow colder. your home becomes slowly filled with fuzzy blankets, you string up some fairy lights to flick on in the dark afternoons, pumpkin decor starts to decorate your tables and shelves.

she loves watching you cuddle into a hoodie, or pull a scarf up over your nose when you're outside and it's chilly. she especially loves cuddling with you under a blanket on the couch.

sevika just can't say no to you. she hates it. (she loves it.)

this means she ends up carving jack-o-lanterns for the first time in her life with you at the big age of forty three. she's surprised to find that she loves it-- scooping the guts of the pumpkin out is so satisfying, and she's always loved stabbing things. (what she loves most of all is the way you arrange your jackolanterns right next to each other on your front stoop, a scarf strung around the two of them, just like when you share your scarf with her.)

this also means that she wears a halloween costume for the first time in nearly thirty five years just for you.

obviously, it has to be a matching costume. sevika will not humiliate herself unless it's to show the world that she's yours.

i'm thinking about the classic lesbian couple costumes: werewolf and vampire.

sevika tries to get away with being a vampire by just drawing two little dots of red lipstick on her neck. you go all out-- buying a werewolf mask and gloves. and on the night of, when you reveal your costumes to each other, you pout at sevika until she rolls her eyes and gives in-- putting on the vampire costume you bought at the same halloween store you got your mask in.

you go to a party at silco's house, the adults drinking while the kids binge on candy, spooky music blasting, vander trying to jumpscare every guest by the end of the night.

you only show up for an hour before you decide to head home, both of you overwhelmed by the party.

sevika tugs on your sleeve as you wander through the leaf-covered sidewalks toward home. "babe, look." she whispers.

she swipes her vampire-cape to the side and reveals one of her fanny packs on her hip-- stuffed to the brim with candy she's stolen from the kids.

you burst into laughter and smack her shoulder, before pulling a kitkat out of her bag and crunching into it.

when you get back home, you spend the rest of the night smoking a joint on the front porch together, snuffing it out when kids approach and ask for candy.

sevika's shocked when you reveal the box of full size bars you'd bought to pass out, and you just shrug. "it keeps me on the good side of all the neighbor kids for the rest of the year."

she knows this isn't the real reason you do it though, you're too much of a softie. the real reason is the giant smiles and excited laughs the kids give the pair of you when you pass them the giant chocolates.

at one point, a little boy dressed in a dinosaur costume approaches with his parents trailing behind him. he seem's shy-- scared to run up onto your porch-- but with a bit of encouragement from you and his parents, he finally climbs the steps.

when sevika hands the boy the candy bar--nearly the size of his head-- his entire expression changes, a huge, toothless grin taking over his face. "thanks scary ladies!" he shouts, before running back down the stairs to show his parents his bounty. sevika chuckles to herself about this for the rest of the night.

by eleven, most of the kids have gone home. you and sev turn in, blowing out the jackolanterns, leaving the box of chocolate out for any teenagers looking to make trouble, hoping that they'll take the bribe and keep from egging or tp-ing your house.

you get in your (matching flannel) pjs and crawl into bed, snuggling and lazily making out as coraline plays on the tv.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty

[i-care-4u]

FACE TO FACE | J.HARLOW

PAIR: JACK HARLOW X ACTRESS!READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

A/N: this fic is inspired by the couple quizzes on the gq youtube channel!

TAGGED: @livsters

-

cameras started rolling. you were holding a set of cards while opening up the given laptop to talk to jack on screen. right now, you were going to ask some questions to jack, who was going to be in front of your screen. it really wasn’t face to face like they said, but rather screen to screen.

you introduced yourself, “hi gq, i’m y/n l/n, and today i’ll be asking one of my biggest fans a series of questions.”

meanwhile, jack got all giggly, excited to answer the questions that his girlfriend provided. he pretends to pick up the phone, “what’s up [nickname]?”

“hello mister harlow!” you chuckled at both jokes.

jack began conversation by asking the basic, “how are you doing today?”

“i’m doing great, what about you?”

“if you’re feeling great, then i’m feeling great also.”

you switched the conversation by bringing the main topic of the video, “good. okay, so i got to ask you some questions.”

“got it.”

-

☆ FIRST QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CURSE WORD?”

“probably fuck.” jack giggled at his answer, which later spread onto you. his answer reminded you of that clip featuring miranda cosgrove. although the clip was recorded, the editors had to bleep out the word due to monetization reasons. it sounded a bit more silly in the final version.

you pretended to be shocked by his answer, “i was about to say the same thing,” you explained, “there’s just so much emotion just by using those four letters.”

jack nods in agreement, “right. like you could accidentally spill a glass of milk and be like fuck.”

☆ SECOND QUESTION - “WHAT’S THE HARDEST PART ABOUT WORKING WITH ME?”

“i think the hardest part about working with you is not laughing the entire time. like you forget that you’re at work and not listening to a comedian’s private show.”

“i know, but it’s understandable,” you said, “it’s hard not to have fun when you’re around someone you love.”

☆ THIRD QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR SELF-CARE ROUTINE?”

jack had his hand resting on his chin, smirking. “resting with the best.”

you sarcastically rolled your eyes at jack. “baby, we’re talking self-care here!”

“my self-care routine consists of taking a bath, taking care of my hair, taking care my skin, making sure that i’m looking clean.” jack showed his clear and fresh manicure. “also getting a fresh trim and manicure if i can.”

you awed at him. “the manicure part was my idea, by the way.”

☆ FOURTH QUESTION - “LAST PURCHASE UNDER $20?”

you were already thinking about his answer, and it caused jack to laugh. you obviously had to joke about it. “let me guess, condoms?”

surprisingly, jack shook his head. he truthfully answers, “surprisingly, not this time. the last purchase under 20 was a set of tank tops. i believe they were 15 bucks.”

you scoffed, “yeah right.”

“you know what?” jack paused and remembered his last purchase. “forget about the tank tops. my last purchase under 20 dollars were a party sized bag of doritos.”

you got closer to the camera, pretending to hold a private conversation, “doritos, please don’t cut ties with us.”

☆ FIFTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OUTFIT OF MINE?”

“my favorite outfit of yours?” jack repeated the question. he started to think of the many outfits that you wore over the years. he had plenty of them in mind but for today, he could only say one.

“i’m going with the red carpet look from cannes film festival.”

you wore a schiaparelli dress, and the accessories is what brought jack’s attention. you were surprised by jack’s response. you could’ve thought of another look, but it was a fan favorite after all. “the one from last year?” you asked jack.

“yeah, i liked it,” jack smiled, “what’s wrong?”

you shook your head, “oh nothing. i’m just surprised that you picked that one out of all my other looks.”

“well, i had a list of favorites, but i thought i only had to go with one, so i chose the schiaparelli look.”

“say, you got a list?” you placed your hands on your chin, striking the beth harmon pose, “tell me.”

jack lightly chuckled and began listing his favorite looks of yours. “okay-”

you reacted shockingly, “damn, you really listed an entire catalog of mine!”

“it’s the stylist’s fault for picking the good ones for you.”

☆ SIXTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHOW TO BINGE?”

jack started reminiscing about the shows he used to binge, “i watch a lot of tv, and y/n knows that i’m inconsistent when it comes to these series.”

you agreed, “right. do you have a favorite, however?”

jack removed the toothpick from his mouth, “right now, i have to go with entourage on hbo.”

you smacked your lips, “there’s something about hbo series that seem more enjoyable than other services.”

☆ SEVENTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR GO-TO FILM?”

“there’s a lot of options when it comes to film, but right now, probably brokeback mountain.”

you were in the film industry, so you were aware of a lot of films. prior to acting, you were a film fanatic, going to the theaters during release day whenever you had a chance.

of course, you had your influences growing up. one of your inspirations growing up was the cast of brokeback mountain, which included heath ledger, jake gyllenhaal, and anne hathaway.

“i have a fun fact about brokeback mountain,” you began giving a backstory, “it was one of the first movies that got me into acting.”

the words that came out of your mouth made jack fall for you even more. he didn’t know about this piece of knowledge until now. he starts telling how you mean so much to him to the people the film crew that were in the background. “when i say this girl is my dream girl, she is my dream girl.”

☆ EIGHTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FILM BY ME?”

“on the topic of films,” you picked up the card with the question on it, “what is your favorite film starring me?”

“starring you…” jack repeated that phrase, blanking out in front of you as he sets all of your filmography in his head.

since you were a critic’s darling, jack had some favorite films in mind. “i loved your performance in knives out and bones and all. oh, and the recent puss in boots movie? our future kids is going to love it!”

you laughed at his heart warming comment. “gee, i hope so…”

☆ NINTH QUESTION - “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE ME FOR A DAY?”

jack rubbed his hands. “this is a tough one.”

he goes, “all of a sudden, i’m y/n l/n for a day. for a day off, i would probably pick up a camera and film a sweet little video featuring my sweet boyfriend.”

it was very thoughtful of him to bring up your passion of filming. since you were a busy woman, you felt like there was little time for you to pick up an extra hobby. sure, you might play the piano or be on the studios with jack on another day, but having time for something else wasn’t on your schedule.

“any extra details you want to add, y/n?”

“the setting takes place in our kitchen, keeping it cozy there.”

you hummed, “very.”

he mentions one last detail. “oh, and my sweet boyfriend is making food.”

your face changed from being relaxed to you laughing, knowing jack’s cooking skills. “and that’s where i end the video.”

☆ TENTH QUESTION - “WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO EVERYONE RIGHT NOW?”

jack made a frowning face. “what kind of advice? relationship? career?”

you picked up the card again, reading every single detail of that question. “it doesn’t specify what kind of advice, so i assume any.”

“i have this one advice that came from my dad,” jack quotes, “every decision can alter your whole life path, so it’s crucial you make good ones.”

“well said,” you tell jack, “everyone in here, take notes.”

-

the tenth question of the interview was already answered, marking the end of the video. the directors yelled “cut” from both rooms, but you two had to stay for one last message.

jack starts, “if y’all want to see the other way around, go to vogue.com to see me ask y/n these questions face to face.”

“thank you to gq for being involved in this conversation between jack and i. thank you for watching!” you blew a kiss in front of the camera. the video cues to a white screen, placing the names of the people involved.

the cameras got everything, so you two were free to leave the studio. before you left the room, you talked to jack on the laptop five minutes after the interview ended.

“what do you want to do after we finish the interview for vogue?”

“you want to have a commentary on brokeback mountain?”

“i’d love that,” you smiled, “i’ll make dinner too.”

[themusicsweetly]

Thank you for posting videos, pictures, and the Tribeca panel commentary on twitter. It is much appreciated. 🙏🏻

[ Anonymous #2 asked ]: Sarah, would you mind writing a S701 review since you were at the premiere last night? Don't mind spoilers and you can warn others if they don't want to read. Loved it when you did it before. Thanks!

Hello Anons! Thanks so much for both your asks! I hope you don't mind me combining both your asks.

You're so welcome, Anon #1! I so glad so many people enjoyed my posts about it! I'm very grateful that I've been able to go to these events for several years now. I know that so many of you don't get that opportunity, so I try to do what I can to bring it to you all even if only virtually. Things are always so much more fun when they're shared, anyway. After all, that's what fandom should be about! 💜

For anyone who missed it, you can check out my Twitter page for my full coverage of 92Y and the Tribeca Festival. But here's some GIF spam from my favorite of the videos I was able to capture this week!

Anon #2, yes of course I'll write up a summary of my thoughts. I know you said you don't mind them, but I will try my very best to not include any spoilers in it as I know it really does ruin it for some. But just in case:

~~~POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR OUTLANDER 7x01 BELOW~~~ ~~~SERIOUSLY, DON’T @ ME THAT I DIDN’T WARN YOU~~~

Outlander 7x01, "A Life Well Lost"

As Caitriona + Sam have mentioned previously in interviews, 7x01 picks up right where 6x08 left off. No time jump or anything, which I was really glad for. The opening scene was SHOCKING and used something that I thought was really clever and really rude all at the same time lol. I can tell you that the audience gasped because of it. I feel this bit was extremely effectively done. Caitriona's micro-expressions really made it for me.

One thing that surprised me — and perhaps it shouldn't simply because Outlander has always been full of this — was that there were so many small moments of humor in this episode, despite the obvious dire situation Claire and Jamie are in (but really, when aren't they lol). There's a new small side character that both Claire and Jamie get to interact with that provides much needed comedic breaks. Even Jamie's menacing looks add to this. Claire especially, I feel, gets to use her biting wit (or just straight up cursing) to add some humor to the tenseness. There's one particularly funny scene that takes place on a boat and involves an interrupting officer that I so loved! The entire audience burst out laughing when we saw it.

While Caitriona + Sam were obviously amazing, I'll say the surprising standout actor in this episode wasn't them. I won't say who, but it's someone we're well acquainted with. There are moments straight out of the book that this actor just fully nails. We're so lucky to have such strong actors filling these side character roles and s/he is just fantastic. Their sincerity and conviction sold me completely.

As book readers can probably guess from the title and from where we are in the timeline, we know basically what will happen in this episode — and they to stick pretty well to it. Even so, it is still so satisfying to get to see it played out on screen. Claire's despair, hope, and heartbreak. Jamie's torment, anger, and determination. The relief of it all. It's all played so, so well across Caitriona + Sam's faces and in their line delivery. Sam said during the Tribeca panel that Jamie is perhaps "more frail" in this episode, and I think that can be said for both of them. Despite them being well versed in separation, I think every subsequent one after their 20 year split wears on them more and more. And they both play that so expertly, making the time that we do see them together just that much sweeter. I don't think it's too spoilery to say that yes, they do share several scenes together this episode so dinna fash!

As for Brianna and R*ger, their scenes are pretty well separate from the Jamie x Claire scenes. I don't really have much to say about them, except that they move certain other storylines that will become more important later on in the season forward. And only just so. While it was important to do so, honestly it felt a bit filler-like. That said, I am actually pretty excited for certain arcs for Brianna and Jemmy later on (while also hoping they don't include that storyline for R*ger... sorry, not sorry) and this brought them maybe half a step closer to it.

Other than the moment on the boat I had mentioned earlier, there are two scenes toward the end which I really loved. One was such a sweet moment straight out of the book with some really great book lines that I had very much wanted to hear. it is Classic™ Jamie x Claire, so you know Caitriona + Sam knocked it out of the park. The second is not a book scene (I believe?? I don't remember it anyway), but was a great one for Sam / Jamie. It's how the episode ends and I told a new friend I had met in the Tribeca line that the final moment of the episode reminded me of Batman's cape swooshing over the camera turning everything black. Lol take from that what you will!

Some other random thoughts:

Jamie x Claire are SO. SOFT. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder? Really, it makes those two grandparents softer AND I LOVE IT.

I LOVED seeing Caitriona + Sam's names appear as Executive Producers! The entire audience was singing along to The Skye Boat song and then burst out cheering when that came up.

I really hope Major MacDonald's wig gets snatched by Adso at some point because F him lol

Overall, I'd say I enjoyed the episode. Some might say it's a bit slow, which I wouldn't disagree with. But knowing that 1) they had to get this part over with the tie up the Season 6 cliffhanger; and 2) this is really going to be a jam packed season of action and emotion, I think I'm okay with that. I've heard it from more than one source that 7x02 is even better than 7x01 so I'm really excited! I'm also really excited to meet our newer cast members, as none of them featured in the premiere episode. The Hunters especially will be so much fun to watch!

Hearing Caitriona + Sam speak about not only this season, but their journey with Outlander overall makes me so grateful that the quality is still there after seven seasons. They're clearly still so passionate about these characters and are determined to do them justice in every way to the very end. And I think that most definitely shows up in their scenes. I'm super curious to see if there's anything noticeably different or better now that they've been promoted to Executive Producers. And of course, to see Caitriona's first foray into directing!! Until then, I'm looking forward to you all seeing the first episode for yourselves 💜

[ahotpileofs-it]

I have a shit ton of ideas for tanaka cause hes my favorite hamster in funger

Tbh these ideas kinda give him the plot armour funger never gave for our shonen anime protagonist so if you don't like that, feel free to scroll past

What would Tanaka be like as a playable character?

Here are my ideas:

Since he is a latent soul, he can get the skill trees of others without killing them (of course it will take longer to obtain them rather than killing them, though).

This mechanic will basically be asking others to teach you how to do their stuff TM

So because of this there will be a 'friendship' system for Tanaka. (Canonically, Tanaka won't see this as friendship, tough guy since four and all,... but my fanon heart says that yes he will. I will force Tanaka to be emotionally vulnerable for my fanon heart, and I say this as a threat.)

Some characters are more unwilling to share their skills with Tanaka, depends on persuasion and first impressions (based on what dialogue you choose and how good you are at observe).

I think a special case would be Daän as I theorize that Tanaka asking for his knowledge and skills would remind his relationship of himself and Eihner Von Dutch... probably if you play as Tanaka on a run he would be the first person willing to bring him under his wing, so to speak.

You can probably gain multiple skills from others at once, but for characters that we know do not like each other, if they do realize that Tanaka is also mentored by the guy they don't like, they'll stop teaching him and his persuasion won't work as well on them. Also 'friendship' decreases with them. Sometimes both characters pull out which would be a great loss. (Like anyone with pav, karin with the magicians and daan, if you attempt to learn from caligura in front of any contestant, etc.)

Really big point here: we know that Tanaka is unprepared for the Termina festival, thus being the weakest contestants in the beginning. You'll have the most opportunities for death playing as his character, especially so on harder modes, and that can easily end your run.

Also why Tanaka is the hardest character to play as, because you need to stay alive (which WILL be hard, as both mind, body, and hp are significantly lower. Remember, unprepared hamster not ready for the fears of the jungle) for long enough to be able to start learning from others (would think that this studying starts at day 2, or day 1, which if I remember are the days with the most amount of events that Tanaka could die).

I would like to think that him learning from Marcoh would always be canon, even in any multiverse. He really needs the hp boost.

As you learn more and more, these can be things that naturally give Tanaka increase in body, mind, hp, and any other stats. You can still get these stats from items though.

Because Tanaka never experienced something like termina before, his mind stat is irreversibly capped less higher than other contestants. I think that could be a great way for the game to signify that Tanaka is really traumatized by these events. And also went a bit mad for his late meeting lol.

I really think we should bring back "handsome rugged looks" skill for Tanaka. It would be really funny if he were to be the only contestant that could seduce. Will also increase affinity with Sylvian.

With this "rugged handsome looks" skill your persuasion would be improved, and you can make certain enemies skip their turn using that.

Dialogue would probably be like "... is shocked at your vulgar display." I think the moonscorched villagers were raised in pseudo-christianity where they probably said sex isn't ok and the only exception is for Sylvian cultist/sacrifices for sylvian... and I believe in my heart that this skill is obviously not for that god. (a/n: considering that funger has shown rape, I don't think that this would be realistic... probably still effective, but not THAT effective).

Would think that enemies like the Sylvian trooper would either be unfazed or say some flirty stuff idk (skill won't work)

Also! I really like the extra coin toss skill that other folks think would happen with non npc! Tanaka. Really neat.

Speaking of persuasion, Tanaka would have more effective persuauion than other because he is a salaryman. It's basically his job.

On the 'friendship' system, based on different friendship stats you will get different b endings as what your skills are are directly affected by who teaches you. I would also like to think that once Tanaka's latent soul 'awakens', he won't be willing to go back to his old job with new skills he isn't going to use. (a/n: this is where the op part kicks in. Realistically, his b ending would just be the same: only how fast you defeat Termina and if you did succeed would be affected. Still, I like dreaming for my favourite boy to be happy for once. And leave his family cause they really were not good to him, even though they are miles better than other families, they still suck).

When one of the contestants that teaches him moonscorches, if you encounter them he won't fight them, no matter what you do. He will never fight the person that helped him from the ground up. He can never bite the hand that feeds, even if the hand tries to choke him. And that is written in his stubbon nature. (a/n : he was raised to NEVER reky on others, and even if learning from others DO go against this pesson, it will become his character arc to depend on someone else to be stronger. However, I do think canon!Tanaka does still have some self-preservation, and in this case canon Tanaka would probably prioritize his life over morals like this. But my fanon heart is a sobbing girl that likes to think that it's favourite characters would rather kill themselves than kill their friends, and honestly it needs more angst to feed from).

And this part is REALLY, REALLY plot-armoury and really not canon, but in my heart, and even my head, they both agree that Tanaka's b-ending (in my ideas) wouod be the most canon b-ending, as other contestants 'live on' through Tanaka. He carries their memories, and skills, and he uses them to fight Per'kele.

Note: I still like the idea that the logic god ending is canon and what would happen in the 3rd installment, though.

This is the end to my ramblings, sorry for any grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc. English is not my first language. Tahnks for reading this far, to this long-ass tumblr post. I wonder if I can make this into a scarf.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 15

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14

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

Steve felt the exhaustion creep in as Eddie held him close, neither of them speaking after Steve agreed to Eddie’s suggestion.

He let himself rest, but couldn’t fall asleep, something tugging at his brain in a way that still made him hesitant to relax completely.

He was safe, Eddie was keeping him safe, but he couldn’t drift off to sleep.

It took Eddie humming a song he vaguely recognized to catch the thought and put it into words.

“How do you know that song?” Steve sat back, staring at Eddie with wide eyes.

“My favorite local band plays it as their encore during shows. Why?”

“Um. Your favorite local band doesn’t happen to be High and Dry, does it?”

Steve felt his heartbeat quicken, getting louder as he thought about what this meant.

“It…is? How do you know them?” Eddie seemed genuinely shocked by the fact that Steve knew them, which was fair, considering they were a punk metal band that only played local venues once in a while.

Steve knew why they did though. Because he knew them. Because he knew the lead singer very well.

“The lead singer is Jonathan. Jonathan Byers.”

Eddie was still not getting it, which was fine, because Steve was now standing up and pacing, his hands moving to explain as much as possible.

“He’s Will’s older brother!” Steve threw his hands up, a huge smile taking over his face, the first one in too long.

“Wait. Jonathan is Will’s brother?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. Um. That’s a nice coincidence, sweetheart. I’m not sure why you’re so excited about it, but maybe we can go to their next show?”

Eddie was looking at him like he’d grown two heads, which was fair, Steve knew he wasn’t making much sense.

“No, you don’t get it!”

“No, I don’t,” Eddie agreed.

Steve placed his hands on Eddie’s cheeks, kissing his nose before he pulled away again. The erratic behavior was probably a bit too much, but he couldn’t contain it.

“So you have a connection to the Byers outside of me!”

It took a moment, but Eddie’s eyes widened and then he stood up, started pacing, too.

“I’ve done some of Jonathan’s tattoos recently. We aren’t like, close, but we talk sometimes. He gave me VIP tickets to a festival they performed at in exchange for a part of his sleeve a few months ago.” Eddie was practically doing laps around Steve now, who was watching with a fond smile as Eddie took what Steve thought of and ran with it. “He’s actually scheduled for next week to get something small done. I could call him and explain everything, maybe he could work with Joyce and Will and the school board to end the investigation early. We could just say I did it as a favor because I know the family!”

Steve nodded, his brain going faster than it ever has.

“I know Joyce and Will will be on my side through everything, especially when they find out I’ve been suspended over this. But if we can take the financial help out of the equation for me, that will most likely let me keep my job.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and lifted him, spinning him around in a circle as he laughed. It felt so good to laugh, to feel just a bit of the anxiety and stress fall off his shoulders.

To feel like he had a chance in not losing everything he’d worked so hard for.

—---------------------------

He called Robin a bit later while Eddie was making them lunch. He sat on the counter, watching as Eddie tossed a salad together, frying up some chicken in a pan and mixing together some homemade dressing.

“Steve! Hi! Are you okay?” Robin answered on the first ring, like she’d been holding the phone waiting for his call.

She probably had been, actually.

“Robs, I’m okay. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“What happened? Are you still with Eddie? Do you need me to come over? I can call into my shift, Chrissy already said she’d cover.”

“I’m still with Eddie. He’s making us some lunch. I um, something bad happened at work, something that kinda came out of nowhere, and I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Robs.”

He hated that she had to see him like that at all, but was grateful she was there. He hated to think what would have happened if he’d been alone at the apartment.

“Did you get fired?”

“Not quite,” Steve gave a brief explanation of what happened, only stopping when Robin started ranting angrily about the system being so broken they couldn’t even provide assistance to a student who needed it. She wasn’t entirely wrong, and he couldn’t help the fond smile on his face as she kept interrupting his story to complain about the principal being a bitch (she wasn’t), and the art teacher knowing he could get in trouble if he brought it up (they may not have known), and “your parents are literally lawyers, sue them,” (which would be his absolute last resort, but still an option).

By the end, Eddie was smirking as he ate his salad next to Steve, just as endeared by Robin’s antics as Steve was.

“So where does this leave you?”

Steve gulped. The hard part of this conversation would be telling Robin about taking Eddie’s offer.

She was fiercely independent, had to be because her parents weren’t made of money. They provided her basic needs as she grew up, but she wanted more, wanted better, and decided the best way to have that was to work her ass off to get there. She worked two jobs through most of college, up until her final semester that she was in now, having to use any free time not at Starbucks on her internship at a museum. The moment Steve explained that Eddie was paying for all of his stuff for the month, she would lose at least a little respect for Steve.

“Wait, you’re suspended without pay for a month?”

Here goes.

“Yes, but I figured out rent and stuff, you don’t have to worry about it. Eddie’s helping.”

Robin was silent for a moment, then two.

“Helping how?”

“I’m gonna move in with him for at least the month, he’s gonna put me to work at his shop, and he’s gonna pay the bills I need covered while I’m out.”

That didn’t sound so bad. Like it was him working for the money, not just getting his bills paid like some kind of sugar baby.

Although, he kind of did feel like one.

And he kind of liked it.

He’d never admit that to Robin though.

“Do you have all this in writing somewhere?”

Eddie was watching Steve’s reaction, not interrupting, giving him the space to have this conversation with his best friend, one that needed to be had even with the discomfort it brought both of them.

“No. I trust him, and I know you won’t, but I’m just asking for you to trust me.”

“Why do you think I won’t trust him?”

Steve glanced between the phone and Eddie, like he didn’t really want to say it in front of Eddie, like it would hurt him.

Eddie just shrugged, silently telling him that he would be fine and understood this was a private conversation that he was already being given special permission to even be listening to.

“Because you’re hesitant about people, especially people I get close to. And this has been kind of a whirlwind. I’m struggling to even grasp what’s happening sometimes, and you know rushing into something like this isn’t like me. It’s terrifying, I’m terrified. But you remember when Nancy and I broke up and you told me that someday someone would show me that I’m worth the future I dreamed about? Eddie is that person. And I think I just have to accept that as unconventional as everything with us has been, it’s what works for us.”

He looked over at Eddie, who was frozen in his chair and staring at him like he wanted to kiss him, undress him, take him apart, right here at the table.

Steve wanted to let him.

Not while Robin was on the phone, though. Maybe not today at all. He still wasn’t feeling quite himself and he knew Eddie wouldn’t actually act on anything as long as he was in this state of limbo.

“You’re sure about this?” She asked, but she already knew he was.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Then I’m sure, too.”

“Really?”

“Listen, you’re almost as cautious with people as I am. And Chrissy wouldn’t keep him around if he wasn’t reliable and amazing. And the way he was with you earlier…” Robin sighed. “He’s good for you. You’re good together. At this point, if something happens to you two, I’ll lose any hope that love is real.”

Steve smiled at the phone and then at Eddie, who was smiling back, reaching a hand over the table to cover Steve’s. He squeezed gently, acknowledging that Steve and Robin were both trusting him more than they’d trusted anyone to take care of Steve.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t let them down.

—-------------------------

Steve fell asleep at the table, barely able to finish half his salad before his eyes were drooping. Eddie had been cleaning up in the kitchen, so when he walked back to the dining table to see Steve’s head on the table, eyes closed, he couldn’t help the fond smile on his face.

He leaned down to kiss Steve’s head, then picked him up, holding him carefulling in his arms so that he could carry him to bed.

Steve’s eyes didn’t open, but he nuzzled his face into Eddie’s neck, curled his hand in Eddie’s shirt against his chest.

Eddie smiled to himself as he made his way to their bedroom.

Theirs.

He bit his lip to not cry.

He didn’t say it out loud to anyone, and barely even admitted it to himself, but his entire life had been spent wondering if he’d ever find anything this meaningful. Anything he’d ever had was hookups that barely even lasted a night or shitty relationships based on dynamics that truly didn’t mean anything if you didn’t care about each other.

He never felt like he wanted, needed, to care for someone like this. Not in this way.

He would do anything to keep Steve safe and happy.

He tucked Steve into bed, not worried about any of his clothes right now, more worried that waking him up would upset him, and kissed his forehead.

It was easy to love Steve, even through the hard things.

He thought about what Wayne told him years ago when he had his first bad breakup: “Someday, you’ll find someone who is easy to love, even when things are hard. Someday, you’ll love someone so much, that even the shittiest days of your lives will be better just because they’re there to love you through it.”

He knew Steve was that someone for him, and he just wanted to be that person Steve.

—---------------------------------------

The next week was chaotic. Eddie had to work, and Steve had to pack some more stuff to live with Eddie.

Steve had a scheduled interview with one of the school board officials put in charge of the investigation for the next day, so he needed his best suit and hair products.

Robin was coming by for dinner that night so Steve could unwind with his two favorite people, so Eddie wanted to make sure he had her favorite dinner prepared, despite Steve insisting she didn’t care about things like that.

Eddie managed to get in touch with Jonathan and didn’t even have to explain everything; Will had already called him crying the day before about his favorite guidance counselor. He told Eddie that Will had already met with the principal and someone from the school board explaining his side of things, and Joyce had a meeting that day to do the same. He offered to do whatever was needed to make sure Steve kept his job.

“Man, I will owe you an entire body’s worth of tattoos if you can help us in any way.”

“Nah, you guys did something amazing for Will. I help when I can, but the shows we do don’t pay much by the time we split it, and my job barely covers the bills as it is. The fact you were willing to pay for his application fee means so much to us, dude.”

“It’s nothin’ man, seriously. I saw what he’s capable of. And his art is what brought me and Steve together, so it seems kind of like fate.”

“Yeah, man, maybe. Can you bring Steve to our session? I’d love to meet him, make sure he’s doing okay so Will can calm down a little.”

He agreed, and texted Steve to let him know the plans.

Everything was happening fast, but that seemed to be the usual for them, and Eddie was learning that life in the fast lane might be okay.

—------------------------------

Steve was extra cuddly when he was at home, but they never went further than soft kisses and gentle touches as they curled into each other on the couch or in bed.

Eddie knew neither of them were in the right mindset for more, not until things calmed down for them.

But the evening that Steve came with Eddie to the shop for Jonathan’s session, they both felt a lot of tension. Steve because this was his favorite student’s protective brother, who definitely held a lot more power over the situation than he realized. Eddie because even with Jonathan completely on their side, it may not mean anything.

Steve was charming, though, when he wanted to be. It wasn’t fake, he genuinely cared about Will and the way this all played out, and wanted Jonathan to know he wanted to keep being the best counselor he could be for him.

“Will talks about you all the time. I’d hate to see where he’d be without you, man. Seriously, thank you for everything you’ve done for him.”

Steve wasn’t going to successfully hold back the tears, not without immense effort, so he didn’t. He let them pool, then fall, and smiled at Jonathan to let him know that he was okay, just had a lot of emotions about everything.

Jonathan hugged him hard, patting his back a few times and smiling at Eddie over his shoulder.

“You did the right thing, Steve. No matter what they say, you did what was right, okay? You did good.”

Eddie raised his brows, but Jonathan just shook his head once.

“Sometimes, Will just needs to hear that. I think you and Will are really similar and I don’t want you to worry. He’s applied and they can’t take that away from him. Everyone’s fighting for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve sniffed against Jonathan’s shoulder.

When he pulled away, Eddie opened his arms to comfort him for a moment, just long enough for Steve to take some deep breaths and stop shaking.

“Alright! Enough of me crying. You came for a tattoo. I’ll go grab you some water from the fridge, how’s the temperature in here? You want a blanket?”

Eddie couldn’t help but look at him fondly, at his natural caregiver attitude that came out when he felt most comfortable.

“Water would be great, but no blanket. I’m just getting something small today.”

“Oh, can I see?”

Jonathan smiled and held out his phone, showing him a picture of a sketch.

“Will drew that.”

“He did. It’s a memory he had of us when we were little, but instead of doing it in detail, he stuck to line art. Wanted to use it for a school project, but when I said I wanted it tattooed, he kept it at home.”

“It’s amazing. I can tell it’s you guys even with just outlines.”

“He’s just good at capturing feeling in anything he does.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked it over and nodded, too.

“You know, if the art thing doesn’t work out, he’s always got a chair here if he wants to be licensed. I could use someone like him in the shop.”

“I’ll let him know,” Jonathan smiled.

The tattoo went quickly, the conversation between them flowing easily about all kinds of things: Will, Jonathan’s band, Joyce, his job.

By the end, Steve had Jonathan’s number, though he reminded him it might be best not to use it until after the investigation, just to be safe.

“Can you just tell Will that I’m proud of him and that no matter what happens, I don’t regret anything? Neither does Eddie. I’ll still support him however I can.”

“Of course, man. You take it easy though. He’d be upset to know how stressed you are,” Jonathan patted his shoulder, then shook Eddie’s hand before he waved and left.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I get fired,” Steve’s voice shook as he turned to Eddie, who had started cleaning up his area.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Eddie said, setting down the tattoo gun and removing his gloves.

Steve listened.

“Can you do something for me?” Eddie asked softly.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Can you kneel right here? Just for a couple of minutes.” Eddie gestured between his now opened legs at the floor.

The floor was probably cleaner than most people’s kitchen counters with how much he swept, mopped, and sanitized it, but a small part of Steve was still worried about being on the floor.

“What’s your color, sweet boy?”

“Yellow.”

“Sit in my lap and let’s talk about it,” Eddie moved his legs a little closer together and patted his knee. “You’re okay, sweet boy. I want you to be comfortable, always. Why is it yellow?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“You’ve been on the floor here before on your knees, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Is it just the stress of everything?”

Steve thought about it. He knew that was a small part of it, no matter how much he knew he would probably feel better after. And the floor being dirty was a small part of it, too, but that didn’t bother him before.

“I think it’s something else. I don’t know what, though.”

“That’s okay. We can give it a try anyway if you want, or I can just finish cleaning up and we can go home if you still don’t want to.”

He didn’t want to go home, he wanted to be good. He wanted to try.

“No. I want to. Green. Please.”

His voice was a little shaky, probably not very convincing that he actually did want to try, but Eddie only took a moment to look him over and make a decision.

“On your knees, then, baby girl.”

Steve shivered at the name, never realizing how much being called one thing could send him so close to the edge.

He dropped to his knees, probably a bit too hard going off the vibrations he felt along his knees and shins. But it was a good pain, a reminder that he was gonna be safe with Eddie.

Eddie touched his cheek, leaned in to kiss him softly, before pulling away completely.

“So good for me.”

And then he turned back to his station and continued working.

Steve didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but being ignored wasn’t on the list. Maybe just being touched gently for a few minutes while he calmed down, or being praised until he started to believe the words Eddie said so wholeheartedly. Maybe even being told to rub off on Eddie’s leg.

He whimpered, but Eddie ignored it.

“Sir?” Steve asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“I’m gonna finish up my stuff, sunshine. You can be good.”

But could he? Like this?

The expectation was silently set that he would just sit quietly at Eddie’s feet while he worked, like a dog waiting for its master.

Maybe any other time, he’d be okay with that. But right now, with how low he was feeling, he didn’t like knowing he was below Eddie.

Eddie didn’t seem to catch on, though, too busy trying to clean up his station.

Steve felt tears spring in his eyes, not the kind he liked, not the ones that meant he was going to fly over the edge. More like the ones that meant he was being pushed over the edge with no one to catch him at the bottom.

“Red.”

Eddie immediately dropped what he was doing, his hands pulling Steve off the floor and into his lap, pushing his face into his neck so he was as close to him as possible.

“It’s okay, sweet boy. You did good for me. I’m so proud of you for using your word when you needed to. I love you so much,” Eddie spoke slowly, softly, rubbing his back and arms, touching every inch he could reach without moving him away from his body.

Steve cried silently, a part of him feeling stupid for his reaction, for even having to use his word for something as simple as kneeling.

He was trying to listen to Eddie, soak in the praise despite his failure to be good this time, allow himself to know that deep down, he was still Eddie’s good girl.

“Let’s get you some water and some of the chocolate bar I have in my desk,” Eddie whispered against the side of his head.

“No, don’t go,” Steve wrapped his arms around his neck, his legs around his waist. “No.”

“I’m taking you with me, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever.”

The promise was made so easily, like Eddie didn’t even have to consider how much he wanted and needed to stay. Steve let the words wrap around him, warmth spreading through his chest and stomach, down his legs and through his arms, tingles in his head running down his spine.

Words held power. Eddie held power. Steve held power.

“Not leaving you either.”

It felt like nothing when he said it, too quiet, too nervous. But Eddie shivered like he was giving him the secret to life.

“In it forever with you, sweetheart.”

“Want forever with you.”

Eddie pulled his head up so he could kiss him, his tongue licking along his bottom lip and silently asking for entrance that Steve would always, always give.

It was still soft, careful, like Eddie knew if he pushed too much, Steve would collapse.

Eddie was good at this. He was good at reading Steve, good at understanding what he needed more than even Steve did.

Eddie stood up, holding onto Steve with very little effort, and walked them to his office where his mini fridge sat full of water, soda, and Gatorade.

“Water or something else?”

“Can I have orange soda?”

“Of course, sweet thing.”

Eddie leaned over to grab the soda from the fridge and then sat Steve down on his desk to open it for him. As Steve took a few sips, Eddie found his emergency chocolate bar in his desk drawer.

“Twix okay?”

“My favorite,” Steve smiled.

He was starting to feel better, at the same level as Eddie again, and not close to falling anymore.

Eddie opened the Twix and fed him a bite, smiling as he watched him chew and swallow.

“Wanna tell me what was going on in your head, sweetheart?”

Steve took another bite, then a sip of his soda, and kissed Eddie’s chin.

“I think I just felt too low. Like you were better than me and you didn’t even wanna look at me. I know it’s not true, but you just weren’t paying attention to me and with everything going on, I felt like…I dunno. Useless I guess,” Steve shrugged, tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal.

Eddie’s face fell, but he quickly schooled his features back to a soft smile, kissing Steve’s lips softly.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, sunshine. You mean everything to me and I certainly don’t think you’re useless. I would never think that.” Eddie ran his hands through Steve’s hair slowly, keeping him calm as he spoke. “I should have thought about how you’d feel. You know I love you more than anything, right?”

Steve nodded.

“Do you need to talk about anything?”

Steve knew he did, but he wanted to be in the comfort of their bed, Eddie’s arms keeping him safe and warm.

Before he could answer, his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

With everything going on, he was hesitant to ignore any phone calls, never knowing when someone from the school board would call. He quickly pulled his phone out, relaxing a bit when he saw it was Robin.

“Hey, Robs.”

“Steve.”

Her voice was quiet, like she was trying not to be overheard. She was home alone, though, a rare day off being used to relax and ignore the world.

“What’s wrong?” Steve pushed Eddie away gently so he could stand up, already trying to focus so he could find his keys. He’d driven them to the shop today in case he had to leave for any reason, and he’d never been so appreciative of his past self as he was now.

“Your mother is here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that your mother is standing in our living room, complaining about the fort of blankets I was living in on the couch, and asking for you.”

Steve felt his body go cold, his legs only keeping him upright because Eddie was standing right next to him supporting his weight.

When did he get there?

“Is that Steven on the phone?” His mom asked in the background. “Why is his stuff gone from his room? It looks like he doesn’t even live here.”

“Put her on, Robs,” Steve said, voice lacking any enthusiasm over having to talk with his mom suddenly, without preparation.

There was a small sound of the phone shifting between hands, then his mom clearing her throat.

“Steven, will you be home soon? Robin seems to be unwell. She’s living on the couch,” his mother was more tolerable than his father, but her snooty tone wasn’t really welcome at this point, especially not when the judgment was being aimed mostly at Robin.

“Why are you at the apartment?”

“I heard about your job. Your father told me that I should leave it alone since you clearly didn’t want our help with anything, but he’s quite an asshole, and I’m not.”

Steve smirked, though he’d never admit it to her. He knew she didn’t actually like his dad, it was just too much of a hassle to go through a lengthy divorce and divide assets. He was almost certain they both saw other people at this point, yet they were still miserable.

“There’s not much to do about it. The investigation has to happen first.”

“Which is probably unlawful at this point.”

He could hear the eyeroll in her voice. Eddie’s eyes were watching him as he responded.

“What do you mean unlawful?”

“Well, the Byers boy, Will, gave permission for Eddie to be there. It’s not your money that was used. Interviews were already conducted with multiple parties confirming that story. They’re withholding pay from you that was earned before your suspension started, which is its own lawsuit, really. In fact, I’m certain one phone call to the school board would have you back in your office by tomorrow morning,” she stated seriously, though he could almost hear the start of a smile in her voice.

“But I did technically break confidentiality.”

“Which would be damn near impossible to prove without camera footage of the entire interaction, which isn’t possible, especially since all parties involved have the same story about having permission to do so.”

“But he’s a minor, he can’t give verbal permission.”

“Steven, do you really think I have earned millions of dollars as a lawyer by being an idiot?”

Steve sighed.

His parents were smart, much smarter than he would ever be, and that’s why he always felt so inferior to them and their expectations of him. They had successful careers, wealth, and good looks, even with their older age. They hadn’t been good parents, neglectful was the term his first therapist used, manipulative and downright abusive was thrown around by his second therapist. But they did show up when he needed them most, or at least, his mom did.

She was showing up now.

Maybe he just had to let her do it. Maybe she needed this distraction after her diagnosis.

Maybe this could provide some healing for Steve.

“What can you do?”

“I need to know where you’ve up and moved to.”

“I’m living with Eddie for the month, maybe longer.”

“Eddie?”

“My boyfriend.”

Eddie was smiling at him, running his thumb along his hip to keep him relaxed.

“When did this happen?”

“Uh.”

“Oh, good Lord, Steven. I’m not going to bite his head off.”

“Last week.”

“You moved in last week?”

“Uh. No. He became my boyfriend last week?”

He was met with silence. It wasn’t often he shocked his mom into silence; She’d always been able to come up with some kind of response.

“Text me his address. We have a lot to discuss.”

The call ended, and Steve looked at Eddie.

“How do you feel about meeting my mom?”

Chapter 16

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[gvfgal]

Bring It In

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ Minors get outta here

Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral (f rec), some fingering, unprotected sex, little fluff, little angst… probably some more, it’s just some fluffy friends to lovers smut with Josh.

A/n: Some soft Josh for you guys. Wanted to get another fic out before I started my Jake series… stay tuned.

Word Count: 5k

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There had been a long standing tradition between the Kiszka boys, Danny, and you. Whenever the holidays rolled around, Danny hosted Friendsgiving, you hosted the Christmas party, and Josh, Jake, and Sam were in charge of throwing the most epic of New Year’s parties. Thanksgiving was full of gratitude and delicious food, Christmas was warm and cozy in your coordinated Christmas pajamas, and now that the New Year was approaching, it was time to let loose.

You were excited as usual for the festivities ahead, a Kiszka New Year party always promised excitement uncharted, a new crazy story to tell throughout the year until the next great hurrah. But as you rushed around getting ready for the night, there was another emotion stirring in your being, a feeling you never thought you’d experience when it came to your favorite boys (or in this case, boy); fear.

Things were different between you and Josh after your Christmas party, after he pulled you into a secluded corner and professed his love for you, sealing the exhilarating moment with a kiss, the first kiss the two of you ever shared.

It was completely unexpected. Throughout the years, there had been feelings brewing between you and Josh. He had been your biggest crush since middle school, and although he never made it 100% clear that he felt the same, things were just different between you two than they were with the other boys. But without the words ever being said, you knew it was best to keep whatever it was that you felt unexplored, not willing to tarnish the beautiful family dynamic that had grown between the five of you. That was until that night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Josh, what are you doing?” You questioned him with a hint of irritation as he dragged you away from the group. He had been acting strange all evening, but you had simply chalked it up to all the drinks he had before the gathering even started.

He didn’t answer you until he had you where he wanted you, out of sight and earshot of his brothers.

“I have to tell you something, it’s really important and I feel like I have to tell you right now because if I don’t I may not ever be able to say it and that fucking scares me.”

“Josh, slow down,” you ran a hand along his shoulder, and he visibly eased under your touch, “you’re rambling,” a huff of a chuckle left your mouth, “just take a deep breath and say what you need to say.”

Doing as you instructed him, he inhaled deeply, trembling upon his exhale as he gathered his thoughts.

Your hand was still rubbing him as he looked at you with uneasy eyes, and you gave him an encouraging nod to continue with what he was saying, there was no reason for him to ever be scared to talk to you, he basically owned your very being.

With a final controlled breath, he let the confession spill, “I’m in love with you, blossom,” he called you by your age old nickname (but that’s a story for another time), “I think I’ve been in love with you for a very very long time.”

Your hand on his shoulder ceased its movement, eyes wide in shock as he continued to speak.

“I don’t know why it took me so long to tell you, just scared I guess. But God, I’m so in love with you. Being here with you like this today, just watching you exist so perfectly in your little world, Blossom it does something to me. I’ve tried to deny it, or hide it, whatever you wanna call it, I just… I can’t anymore. Y/n I love you, I need you.”

Silence. Complete silence between you as you stared at each other like a couple of silly toddlers.

“You’re.. you’re in love with me, Josh?”, your voice was but a whisper.

“Yes Blossom, hopelessly.”

You swallowed harshly, head spinning at the shocking revelation. It took you a while to find words, and even when you did, it still came out as a stammered mess.

“Well… how do you know you really feel that way? How am I supposed to know if you really feel that way? What if it’s just the holiday spirit that’s making you-“

He cut you off by crashing his wet lips onto yours, a sloppy kiss full of passion and desperation. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer as you relished in the feeling of his lips on yours, a feeling you daydreamed about for the past 15 years.

Josh had you against the wall as he continued to kiss you, and just as his hands began reaching up your shirt, the fleeting moment came crashing down.

“Woah,” Danny’s voice interrupted flatly.

You and Josh scrambled into each other’s arms, looking at him like two deers caught in headlights.

Danny simply stood at the end of the hallway, staring you both down with an unreadable expression, red solo cup in hand.

“Dan,” Josh began in a hushed tone, slowly releasing you from his anchored grip, “It’s not-“

He raised his hand, signaling for Josh to stop talking, which he did, before he motioned his hand across his lips like he was zipping and locking them shut.

Without another word, he entered the bathroom and shut the door, pretending that he hadn’t seen what he just so clearly did see.

You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until Danny disappeared, your shoulders slouching in relief.

Josh turned back to look at you with a melancholy smile, “we better get back to it, huh?”

Slowly, you nodded, peeling your body off of the wall, following Josh back into the living room.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Not a word had been spoken about the ordeal since it happened, and honestly, there weren’t many words shared in general.

Other than a Merry Christmas text from Josh, it had been radio silence.

This only worried you more. What if you were right? What if he was just so caught up in the joy of the holidays, that he thought he felt something he really didn’t?

What if he didn’t mean anything he said?

These were questions that ricocheted through your mind all day and late into the night, riddling your body with anxiety.

But either way, those crippling thoughts would be put on pause tonight. Tonight, it was all about having fun.

Danny was by to pick you up shortly after you finished getting ready, and with a final nod of confidence in the mirror, you made your way out.

“Well don’t you look ravishing,” Danny complimented with a lilt in his voice, poking at your sparkly gold dress.

You giggled as you buckled your seatbelt, “why thank you, Daniel. You’re so kind.”

As he made his way towards Josh’s house, he made small talk with you, asking how your Christmas was, what gifts you received, your New Year's resolutions.

But as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, the question that you were anticipating finally spilled.

“So… you excited to see Josh tonight?”

You huffed in defeat, “I don’t know. Kinda, yeah I guess. We haven’t really talked much since… well you know. We exchanged Merry Christmas texts but that’s it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow, “really? That’s weird considering you guys hardly go a day without talking to each other.”

“Exactly,” you huffed again, “I have no idea where his head is.”

“Wait, so this isn’t something that’s been going on?”

Sweet, sweet Danny and his cluelessness.

“No, it isn’t. That night, he told me for the first time he had feelings for me. It was the first time we kissed.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” he dragged out, “and I ruined it, huh?”

You chuckled a bit, shaking your head, “no Danny you didn’t ruin it,” you thought on it briefly, “actually yeah you kinda did.”

Danny laughed as he turned onto Josh’s street, “yeah, my bad about that. I don’t know what the big deal is though. Everyone knows that boy is head over heels for you.”

His statement made you perk up, “really?”

The street was full of cars, so Danny put the car in park a few houses down from Josh’s, turning to look at you in disbelief.

“Are you really that clueless, Blossom? Everyone knows how much Josh adores you, he’s like a helpless puppy when it comes to you.”

“I- I just thought that was a Josh thing, he’s been like that forever.”

Danny sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s because he’s been in love with you forever.”

Josh’s words from that night rang in your head.

‘I think I’ve been in love with you for a very very long time.’

“Oh,” was all you could manage.

“Yeah, Oh,” Danny teased you.

He grabbed his jacket from the backseat, handing it to you so you could wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Look, y/n. The kid loves you, alright? He’s absolutely enamored. And it’s very clear you feel the same way, so don’t complicate it, okay? Don’t over think it. If anything, his silence shows that he’s just as confused about the situation as you are. You guys just need to talk about it, figure out where you want to go from here.”

You were silent, a million thoughts fogging your brain.

“What else is on your mind, Blossom?”

Sighing, you dragged your eyes to Danny’s face, “what if it changes things? Between us, you and the guys? Our dynamic right now it just… works. I don’t wanna fuck that up. Or what if things don’t work out between Josh and I? That’s 15 plus years of friendship down the drain and you guys will probably end up hating me.”

Danny gave you a sympathetic grin, “y/n. Josh isn’t the only one who loves you. Me, Jake, Sam, we love you too, maybe just not in the way Josh does,” you both chuckled before he continued, “sure things will be different, but we’ll all still be friends just the way we are now, you know that.”

You gave him an understanding nod.

“And you gotta be crazy to think that anything would tear you and Josh apart like that. You guys are rock solid, and that’s something I’m sure won’t change.”

After a moment to process what he said, you knew he was 100% right.

“Okay, okay no you’re right. I’m gonna go in there, and I’m gonna tell Josh how I feel and we’re gonna kiss and everything is gonna be fine.”

“There you go,” he cheered you on, “let’s go in there and get your man.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were completely frozen when Josh opened the door.

He grinned at you smugly, “Happy New Years, you two.”

Danny waited for you to speak, but he quickly realized that you were in panic mode, and instead gave you a light shove into the doorway as Josh stepped aside, answering for both of you, “it’s not the new year for another two hours Josh, but same to you, bother!”

Once inside the loud and packed house, you made a beeline to the kitchen for a drink, completely ignoring Josh.

He looked a little wounded as you did so, and Danny gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, “just give her time. You know Blossom, she’s…”

“So beautiful,” Josh whispered to himself as he watched you weave through people.

You were moving so fast that you bumped into someone, but before you could apologize, you were met with a smiling Sam, thankful it was just him rather than some stranger.

“There you are y/n! I was wondering when you’d show.”

Upon further inspection of your face, he frowned slightly, “what’s up with you? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just need a drink,” you mumbled, eyeing the array of libations on the counter.

“We’ll, you’ve come to the right place. I’m the best damn bartender at this party.”

“I think we all know that’s not true,” you heard Jake’s slightly raspy voice as he entered the kitchen. He put an arm around your shoulder, placing a friendly kiss on the top of your head, “hey Blossom.”

“Hey Jake. Happy New Years.”

“Same to you, love,” with an arm still around your shoulder, he turned to Sam, “Sammy boy, make sure our girl gets the best drink of the night,” he squished you into his side, “she looks like she needs it.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You spent the next couple hours dodging Josh as best as you could. But no matter how much you drank, and danced, and socialized, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his eyes tracking your every movement.

Every time you looked at him, his eyes were already trained on you, he didn’t even care much to look away, he wanted you to know he was watching.

As the night went on, the music got louder, and the party got livelier, and despite the awkward situation, you were having fun.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom before the countdown,” you shouted to Sam over the music, handing him your drink.

“Hurry back, we’ve only got,” he paused to check his phone, spilling some drink in the process, “10 minutes.”

You saluted him before making the familiar journey to Josh’s powder room, but was irritated to find that it was already occupied, and from the sounds you were hearing, it didn’t sound like it’d be unoccupied anytime soon.

Josh’s room. No one would be in there (hopefully), and it had its own ensuite bathroom that you could use in peace.

You climbed the stairs to the best of your ability, slightly wobbly from your indulgence, before you finally made it to his room, lit only by his bedside lamps.

An unrecognizable feeling washed over you as you entered. You felt so at peace in the familiar dwelling, but also timid, afraid, as if you really didn’t belong there.

But soon enough, the urge to pee trumped it all, and you made your way into the bathroom.

After a way too long pee, washing your hands, and quickly glancing in the mirror, you made your exit, only to be startled by Josh sitting on the edge of his bed facing you, his hands folded in his lap.

You jumped at his sudden appearance, clutching your chest, “Christ, Josh. You scared the shit out of me.”

He disregarded your statement, “why are you ignoring me, Blossom?”

He sounded despondent , but also slightly vexed.

Once again, he had you frozen in place.

This was certainly sobering.

“I… I’m not ignoring you.”

His head tilted, face reading ‘really?’

“Okay, so I’m ignoring you.”

“Yeah, why?”

You didn’t have an answer, instead you stood there gawking at him, feeling quite witless.

His shoulders slumped, “look y/n. If you don’t feel the same about me I get it. Just don’t-“

“Josh, no,” your head shook furiously as you made your way over to him, “no, that’s not it. That’s not it at all.”

He looked a little confused, “no?”

In that moment, he looked so hopeful, so innocent, you couldn’t help but smile as you raised your hand to cup his cheek.

“I do feel the same. I really do. Could you not tell from the way I kissed you?”

He blushed at the mention of your shared moment, “I just thought you were really horny or something.”

You laughed loudly, “well that was a small part of it, yeah. But I also happen to really be in love with you too. And I think I have been for a very very long time.”

Josh stood from the bed, taking both of your hands in his as his eyes burned into yours, “then why didn’t you text me? Or call? Something, anything. All I got was a lousy ‘Merry Christmas’ text.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes, “okay first of all, it wasn’t lousy. I added a little Santa and a Christmas tree. And secondly, I could say the same for you, I was wrecked with anxiety waiting to hear from you.”

His thumbs rubbed small circles on the back of your hands, “I was trying to give you your space, Blossom. I kinda dropped a bomb on you that night.”

You nodded, “yeah no, I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Blossom. All that matters is that we’re here now, with everything laid out on the table.”

“Everything on the table,” you echoed quietly.

From downstairs, a chorus of voices began chanting.

“10…9…8…”

“So what now,” Josh sounded breathless as his eyes stayed fixed on your face.

“7…6…”

“I don’t know, Josh. You tell me.”

“5…4…”

“Can I show you instead,” his low voice was laced with mischief.

You nodded, “yeah.”

“3…2…1! Happy New Year!”

On cue, Josh enveloped you in the sweetest of kisses, pulling you firm against his body as he did so.

The kiss was both needy and gentle in the moment.

As cheers and loud music thundered through the house, you and Josh continued to kiss, and kiss, and kiss.

A full blown make out session was underway, tongues and lips moving on their own accord.

Josh grabbed onto your thigh, hoisting your leg onto his waist as his other hand made its way into your hair, trying to get you closer to him.

His eagerness made you moan, and you threw your head back as he finally tore his lips from yours kissing down your jaw and to your neck, his tongue brushing against your skin every so often.

“Listen to you,” he mumbled against your flesh, his voice had dropped to an insanely sexy octave, “sound so pretty, Blossom. I don’t think I’ll get enough of hearing that.”

The hand that was gripping your thigh snakes up under your dress, giving it a squeeze.

He so desperately wanted to hear you again.

And hear you again he did, the melodic sound of your pleasure only prompting him to continue.

He kissed you again, kneading the swell of your ass in his hand. When he pulled away, you found yourself leaning in, chasing the contact.

“You want more, don’t you Blossom?”

You nodded shamelessly, “I need more. I need you.”

Your voice was fretful as you spoke, and he soothed your whines with a soft peck on the lips.

“I know, baby. I need you too.”

Baby. Hearing that coming from his lips, directed towards you, sent you over the edge.

“Can I make love to you,” he questioned as he looked into your glossy eyes, “right now?”

“Please. Please do Josh.”

He took a hold of your other leg, lifting you off the ground and walking you over to his bed.

He laid you down gently before pulling his shirt off, and your eyes never left his figure as he did so.

“I never got a chance to tell you, but you look so beautiful tonight, Blossom. That dress was made for you.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you sat up on the bed, “yeah? You really think so?”

He grinned lazily, “I do,” slowly he moved forward, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress. He looked to you for approval, and you gave it to him.

Pulling the zipper at a teasing pace, he continued to talk, “but as pretty as this dress is on you, I’d rather see it on the floor. I wanna see all of you.”

As he finished unzipping, you stood to shimmy the dress off your body, and he stood and watched in amazement as you revealed yourself to him, left now in only a blush pink thong.

He gulped at the sight, before his hands moved to the button of his jeans.

He undid them, tugging both them and his boxers down in one swift movement.

Your eyes bulged at his already swollen erection, taken by surprise at how well endowed your Josh was.

Over the years, you’ve gotten plenty of glances at his bulge. At the lake during the summer, accidentally walking in on him while he was changing (one time too many), but none of that compared to what you were seeing now.

You simply couldn’t pull your eyes away, and Josh allowed you the opportunity to stare, feeling vainglorious at your reaction.

You wanted, no, needed to feel him in your mouth, but as you moved to assume the position, his words stopped you.

“No baby, not tonight,” he spoke sweetly, “we’ll save that for another time, yeah?”

Another time. The thought of this happening again (and again, if you’re lucky), was enough to make you comply.

Instead, you began removing your underwear, but again, he stopped you.

“Let’s leave those on, too. I’m enjoying them way too much.”

Not knowing what else to do, you lowered yourself onto the bed, scooting back until the icy wood of the bed frame met you back.

Josh followed, climbing up on the bed and pulling your leg until you were laying flat.

His lips found yours again, but the moment was short lived as he began trailing wet kisses down your body.

He stopped at your breasts, squeezing them both gently, causing your mouth to fall open.

“You like when I play with your pretty tits, Blossom?”

Biting down hard on your lip, you nodded.

His fingers began toying with your nipples, flicking and rolling them as he watched you squirm.

Finally, he lowered his mouth onto your right bud, his tongue flicking over it swiftly.

“Josh,” you sighed out in desperation, hand finding a firm grip in his hair.

His mouth wandered to the left now, repeating his actions as he stared up at you.

You were a mess beneath him, though he’d hardly done a thing to you yet; further proof of how much control he had over you.

When his hand made its way to your soaked panties, rubbing along the cloth gingerly, you gasped and moaned loudly.

“Sorry,” you rasped, “I’ll keep quiet.”

With a pop, he released your nipple from his mouth, continuing to rub.

“No Blossom, you be as loud as you want. They won’t hear you,” he nudged your panties to the side and began playing with your folds, eyes blazing in delight at the sight before him, “and even if they do hear, who cares? I want everyone to know how good I can make you feel.”

In response, you allowed your self to whine out into the air again, and he nodded at you in encouragement, “yeah, so good for my Blossom. I love seeing you like this. Better than I ever imagined.”

The sound of your arousal as Josh dragged his fingers through your sopping cunt was delightful in the most obscene ways. You were captivated by how gentle and loving he was being with you, though he was slightly teasing. This moment confirmed just how much he really did love you.

“Josh,” you whimpered, stroking along his abdomen, “I need you. Inside.”

“Not yet, baby. Let me take care of you a little more. I wanna savor this.”

I’m no mind to object, you allowed him to continue his exploration, trailing more kisses down your trembling body until he came face to face with your heat.

He licked his lips, “oh Blossom look at that,” he was breathless, “that’s just too good.”

Lowering himself onto his stomach, one of his fingers found your clit, and began rubbing slow circles around the nub. Just when you thought you couldn’t take teasing anymore, his finger was replaced with his delicious tongue, a couple slow licks, just to get a taste.

A groan rumbled out of him as he closed his lips around it, and you squealed.

He reached up to grab your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze, finally allowing himself to fully indulge.

His mouth attacked you with a sort of amorous fervor that you’ve never experienced before.

The sounds that filled the room were intoxicating to say the least, and it had both you and Josh drunk.

“Feels so good,” you whined, “feels so fucking good.”

Josh let out another groan in response as his tongue dipped into your clenching hole briefly, eyes burning into yours as he did so.

You released one of his hands to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him in closer to your cunt.

Sure, you were being a bit greedy, but you waited so very long for this to happen, and you were going to make sure you got to experience it in its full glory.

He began flicking his tongue swiftly along your clit, stopping to slurp up your wetness and his own spit, and the action made you lurch forward, now gripping his head with both hands.

“Fuck! Yes Josh,” you shouted rather loudly, and you could feel his lip curve upwards.

Without shame, you began grinding your body against his face, his nose brushing against you another sensation you didn’t know you needed.

He removed his mouth, “funny I couldn’t get you to mutter three words to me earlier, only for you to be fucking my face an hour later. Funny how things work, isn’t it Blossom?”

Not one to miss out on an opportunity to jest, you quipped back, “that was last year, Josh. Get over yourself.”

He sent a teasing squeeze to your thigh before latching back onto you, allowing you to use him the way you were before.

There it was, that familiar feeling of release beginning to bubble up inside of you, a feeling you missed dearly.

You were racing towards that finish line, and Josh could very well tell, removing his mouth from you and sitting back on the bed.

“Josh,” you cried out, though it was hard to be upset with the way he looked, his face covered in your arousal.

He began stroking himself as he came to hover over you, pecking you on the nose.

“No need to whine, baby. I’m gonna make you cum, I’d just rather you do it around my cock.”

You reached forward and ran a single finger down his leaking slit, brining it to your mouth to taste.

Josh shuddered, “you’re filthy, Blossom. I love it. I love you.”

Your heart began beating a little harder in your chest at his words.

“I love you too, Josh.”

With his pulsing cock in hand, he lowered himself to line up with your entrance, and with one smooth thrust of his hips, he filled you up completely.

You both went to moan, but not a sound came out of either of you, small pants of air the only thing that could be produced.

“Say it again,” he egged you on, steadying himself by gripping the headboard, “say you love me again.”

He pulled out fully before plunging back in to the hilt, causing you to actually moan this time.

“I… I love you Josh,” you managed, staring up into his captivating eyes, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby.”

Rather than ravishing you with brutal force and pace, he began rolling his hips into you at a steady rhythm, somehow knowing where that perfect spot inside of you resided, hitting it with perfect precision with every thrust.

“God yes! Right there Josh. Right there!”

“There,” his voice lilted as he hit the spot again, “Already know my Blossom’s body so well, don’t I?”

You nodded up at him with doe eyes that knocked the wind right out of his chest.

He continued stroking your sweet center as he lowered his body down onto yours, taking your ear between his teeth.

“Shit Blossom,” he panted, “I don’t think I’m gonna last very long. I haven’t been in anything this perfect in all my life.”

You turned your head to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek, running your hands up his back that was riddled with goosebumps.

“Let me have it then,” your voice was unbelievably seductive, “right inside Josh. I wanna feel you.”

He continued his rolling, only a little bit faster now as he clung to your body for dear life.

“You gonna come with me Blossom? Together, like we were always meant to be.”

His strokes were otherworldly, and all you could do was allow the moment to take over you entirely, letting your body do as it pleased.

Josh lifted his face to look at you, “now… I’m about to-“

You quieted him by bringing him in for a kiss, and you stayed that way as both of your releases brought you to that glorious mountain top.

Moans and grunts permeated the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, his cock twitching as he too spilled himself.

One final thrust cemented the occasion, Josh pumping the last of his release deep inside of you before he was completely spent.

Full of nothing but love, you nestled yourself into his sticky side as he fell beside you, wrapping a leg over his waist.

After catching his breath, he turned to you with a knee buckling smile, “that was beautiful. Too perfect for words.”

“Yeah,” you sighed in a stupor, “it was huh?”

With a trembling hand, he pulled your face to his, kissing you sweetly on the lips, then the cheek, “I love you Blossom.”

“I love you too.”

You allowed yourselves to bask in the moment for awhile before Josh spoke again, “so… you think this is the epic New Years party story of the year.”

With a laugh, you pulled his body a little closer to yours, “I don’t think anything that happened tonight could top this.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Catfish and Dog Cemeteries

Chapter Nine of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: The Annual Pigeon Creek Catfish Festival is always your favorite event of the summer. Being back here after seven years feels different. It should be a consolation that you're only going to be in Pigeon Creek for a few days more. But instead, another encounter with an old friend makes you question everything you thought you knew about your soon-to-be ex-husband. A chance encounter with the man himself makes you question everything else in your life, too.

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: discussions of grief, discussions of miscarriage, discussions of animal death

Word Count: 2665

A/N: This chapter is one of the saddest in this entire fic. I know, I know. It's awfully hypocritical of me to say that when most of Sweet Home Alabama (the movie) is really really sad. This is the chapter I sobbed while writing. It's also the first time Jake and Linley address the pain they have put each other through. I hope you love it!

Thanks to the gorgeous @desert-fern for reading over this chapter and smacking my imposter syndrome demon when it refused to give up.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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Pigeon Creek's Catfish Festival is busier than you've ever seen it when you pull up and park your rental car on Main Street the next day. The festival used to be your favorite day of the summer, the one day during summer vacation when you could run free and eat as much candy and fried things as you wanted. You walk through the crowd on autopilot, walking down the line at the buffet until your plate is filled with all of the things you never actually let yourself eat anymore, and slip a twenty into the donation jar at the end of the table. The fried fish and steaming french fries had looked so good that you couldn’t stop yourself. 

But as you stand in the grass with your plate in your hand, it reminds you of something else. Nobody in Pigeon Creek likes you very much. Everyone you know is chatting and laughing and enjoying the good food. Yet you’re still the outsider. Like you were before Jake became your best friend like you have been every minute of every day since you left town. Not a single person wants to meet your eyes. A part of you understands why. Jake was the golden boy of the town. Jake is still the town hero. You’re just the girl who threw him away.

Of course, what you don’t expect to see is Dorothy sitting at one of the tables with a baby in her lap. She’s the only person who doesn’t glare at you as you walk up.

“D’you mind if I sit here?” Gone is the confident Linley who took New York by storm. In her place is the four-year-old with a lisp who used to get pushed off of picnic tables because she was too different.

“Sure.” You sit silently, gratefully, smiling at the chubby-cheeked baby in Dorothy’s lap.

“I, um..” You’re captivated by the shocks of tiny dark hair and big eyes and the way the little sweetheart is waving their fists around. “I didn’t know you and Mickey had a baby.”

“Aww, yeah. When you came around the bank the other day, there wasn’t much time for us to catch up now, was there?” She hums to the baby for several long moments before turning all of her attention to you.

It occurs to you at that moment that maybe you were more than a little prejudiced yourself as a kid. You have more fun with Dorothy than you’ve had in years. Getting to eat good food and just be yourself probably helps, too. Every time you see her snuggle her daughter, it feels like your heart breaks a little more. You can’t turn back time or change history. Seeing the baby squeal as a calf licks her hand makes you smile.

“Y’know he went up there?” There’s a secretive smile on Dot’s face as she rescues the baby from having her frock eaten by a goat.

“Who?” You drag your eyes away from the kids playing in front of you and focus back on Dorothy. “Dot, who went up where?” When she just looks at you, the lightbulb goes off in your head. “Jake? When?”

“About a year after you left.” That little tidbit of knowledge hits like a dart hitting a bullseye on a dart board. “He doesn’t know that I know, but Mickey let it slip once.”

“Jake was in New York?” You sound like a stuck record, but you can’t believe that Jake ever went to New York. Jake has always hated the idea of the big city, much preferring the country to the city. 

“He told Mickey he'd never seen anything like it.” Your heart is six feet under the earth.

“He realized straight off…” You’re leaning in despite yourself, some sick sense of curiosity expecting you to know, “That he'd need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world first. He's been tryin' ever since.”

You didn’t think that you were so cruel a few days ago, standing in the middle of that fashion show back in New York. But now? Now, you feel like the worst person on the planet. 

“That's why he kept sending the papers back.” Is the world spinning off of its axis, or is that just you? How is it that you can know someone for most of your life and that they still surprise you every time?

“Yeah, it's funny how things don't work out.” The baby starts fussing in Dot’s arms, and the sweet burble of sound puts a smile on your face.

“It’s funny how they do.” 

You spend the rest of the day hanging out with Dorothy, smiling and laughing like a fool while playing with the baby. But it’s as night falls and the kids all go home to bed that excitement starts to course through your veins. The first twang of the guitar sets your feet tapping. For the first time since you came back to Pigeon Creek, you feel like you’re at home. With good music and even better alcohol in your hands, you finally feel free. 

Of course, what you’re not expecting, even though you totally should be, is Jake and Bob walking up to the small gathering you’ve found yourself in. It’s almost like once Dot approved of you, everyone else did, too. He looks like sin, his worn jeans clinging to his thighs and a soft red flannel clinging to his broad shoulders. His eyes and hair glisten in the soft light, and if you were a younger, less encumbered woman, you would have climbed him like a tree. But as it is, your soul feels heavy, and your left-hand feels even heavier. The worst part isn’t just how you lost the love of your life. It’s in how you’ve lost your best friend, too.

You can’t look at his smiling face, not when it hurts to see him happy when you’ve never been sadder. So, instead, you fixate on the glass your beer is in. It’s crystal clear and gorgeous, and well, it’s glass like you’ve never seen in New York. Is it any wonder that you lift the glass to see if you can see the manufacturer? Of course, just as you lift up the glass, it’s Dot who notices what you’re doing.

“Oh, honey, you…” She giggles, looking at you, “You drink that from the top.”

“I know that, Dot. I’m just lookin’ to see who makes this Deep South Glass. I wonder if you can get it in New York?" You take a sip of your beer and sigh. "It's beautiful."

"D'you hear that, Jake?" There is mischief in Dot's voice. "Lin wants to know where she can find that snooty-faluty glass." Why's she asking Jake, of all people?

"Why ask me?" See that? That's why Jake Seresin was your best friend. He always knew exactly what you were thinking and had the courage to express the thought, too.

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe it's because…" You've only had a few sips of your beer, so you don't miss the glare Jake shoots at Dot. You don't know why he's keeping secrets, but you have a feeling it isn't for a good reason. "You're all spiffed up and all."

"Wait, y'all." You probably look as confused as you feel. "Am I missing something?"

But all of a sudden, the familiar tones of Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd echo across the dance floor. You can count on one hand the number of times you've passed on dancing to this song - and all of them have been when you were in New York. It's a right of passage, a way of life. A part of you is sure every 'Bama baby has been put to bed at night with a crooned-out rendition of this song since it came out. Already, you can feel the beat tapping your toes, but a part of you isn't sure if anyone will ask you to dance. You smile vaguely as Dot marches off to the dance floor, Jake in tow, leaving you standing at the edge of the dance floor yearning.

"Y'know, she says that I've got two left feet, but the truth is she's got no rhythm." You startle just a bit at Mickey's voice, though you smile when you hear the pure love in it for Dot.

"Why don't we show her just how well I can dance, then, Miss Linley?" 

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Garcia." 

You're smiling from ear to ear as Mickey twirls you around on the dance floor. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the beat in every hummingbird thud of your heart. But when you open them again, it feels like the world's standing still. The music is gone. There isn't another person on the dance floor other than Jake and you. He's got his hand on your waist, and your heart's not beating in time anymore. Your palms grow clammy, and your tongue feels like it's swollen in your mouth.

There is something unreadable in Jake's gaze as he twirls you once, twice, and then one final time before applauding for the band and walking away. You spend the rest of the night as far away from Jake as you possibly can. You know where he is; you always have. But it's different going out of your way to avoid him. Everyone's cleared out for the night when you finally see the sign for the dog cemetery.

Bear used to love clear nights like this, and something about it makes you remember him. His little plot is the newest, and it hurts to think of the puppy you bottle-fed lying six feet under the ground when you never even got the chance to tell him you loved him one final time.

"Hi there, boy." Your hands shake as you clear away a couple of twigs ensnared in his grave marker. "Sorry, it took me so long. I would have come sooner if I'd known you were sick."

Sitting here tonight, you don't think you can lie. Not to Bear. "Actually, that's probably not true. I've been pretty selfish lately."

Tears track hot down your cheeks as you remember the dog you loved with all of your heart. "Dogs don't know anything about that, do they, though? You were always like a big old pillow. Like when everything went pear-shaped…" Your voice cracks on the words because pear-shaped is an understatement for how your life splintered. "You never left my side. And then I just left you. I bet you sat there wondering what you'd done wrong."

"I told him it was my fault." You stand up so quickly that you nearly fall over. It's Jake because who else would it be when he's so close that you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his skin?

"Quit bein' so nice." 

"It's the truth." It's not. Not in the slightest. It was your fault. Your body, your mouth. Your fault. But you can't verbalize your words or how sorry you were for everything that you did.

"How come it has to be so complicated?" You sigh the words even as you wipe your tears away.

"What?" Despite his hatred for you, his voice is gentle, a melodic hum over the buzz of a summer night out in the country.

"The truth, life…" Finally, you trace your fingers over Bear's name. "This."

"He was one hell of a good dog, wasn't he?" You can only nod, moving to sit on a stone bench nearby. It's quiet for several moments, just you and Jake staring at the graves.

"You looked like you were having fun out there tonight." It's true, you did have fun. But it wasn't quite as easy as he thought it was to let loose.

"I'm happy in New York, Jake. But then I come down here and…” You gesture around you to all of Pigeon Creek. “This fits, too." Who are you trying to convince? Him? Or yourself?

"Since when does it have to be one or the other? You can have roots and wings, Lin." Not possible, not with your all-or-nothing life.

"Maybe I could just fly south for the winter." As if the Honorable Carole Bradshaw would ever let you do that.

He sits down next to you suddenly, warming the left side of your body as he gets close.

"Look." It takes you a bit to figure out what you're looking for, but when you see it, it makes you feel like a kid again. "There. Do you see 'em?"

"Only you. Lightnin' bugs." There's a childlike wonder on his face. This close, you can feel each exhale and can see the specks of amber floating in the green of his eyes

"You know, I still go out there sometimes. I see those big thunderheads rollin' in. It's like a religion." Of course, he still goes out on the beach in the middle of lightning storms.

But his confession has you spilling one of your own. "I had a dream about it the other night." You watch the lightning bugs track pinpricks of light through the dark night.

"It had me thinking, Lin. You ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't have gotten pregnant?"

Your heart falls to your feet at his words. Please let him regret you, but not that sweet baby. Please, not your sweet baby. Your throat barely pushes out the sound as you whisper, "Jake."

"Just," His eyes are pleading, and the sight of the pain in his eyes blanks all the thoughts out of your mind. "Let me get this out before I can't. I thought that baby would be an adventure."

"And it took me a while to realize that it would have been your only adventure." Yup. The sound you hear despite the blood pounding in your temples is your heart shattering into infinitesimal pieces. "I just guess Mother Nature knew better, huh?"

Your hands make abortive movements in your lap. But you can't reach for him, not with the ring weighing your left hand down. "I was so ashamed, Jake. 'Cause I felt relieved. How selfish am I, huh? I lost our baby, and I felt relieved. I felt relieved. And I couldn't handle that. All of a sudden, I just needed a different life. So I left."   

Your voice is so quiet you're not sure Jake can actually hear you.

"You’ve done really well for yourself. I'm proud of you, Lin." He's so close all you want to do is fall into him. But you can't. You can't.

"I'm just sorry I never danced with you at our weddin'." How does he make your heart feel so full that you're sure it's going to overflow?

"I'm sure this next one's gonna go better for ya." His hands are strong and warm and perfect as they cradle yours. But every press of his hands rubs the ring, Bradley's ring, into your hands. It feels like a brand, the guilt turning into a five-ton weight sitting there. And it's that itchy, heavy feeling that has you yanking your hands from his own. 

"Jake, I can't do this." Who are you trying to convince as you walk away? Like so much of this conversation tonight, you're not really sure.

"I know."

Something about those words has you turning around. It's not a feeling or an expressed desire, but you still stand on your tiptoes and kiss Jake. Just once, you promise your traitorous heart. Just once. But he feels like home and tastes like it and smells like it. The electricity ricocheting through your veins makes you feel so good that you don't break the kiss until Jake does. Your lips are swollen, and you can barely breathe. But Jake? Jake just looks angry.

"Go home." Is it any wonder that you do so with your tail between your legs?

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[anhed-nia]

It's always a little sad when one of your precious niche fetishes gets popular. I'm not proud of admitting this; on the whole, you should want success for the things that you love. But in some cases it's like the sad stereotype of the childhood weird girl friendship that is doomed by the onset of adulthood. The friendship is such an important of your identity and your sense of place in the world, but then one day your weird girl friend starts to realize that she has more potential than that, she wants other things and she can get them too, and suddenly one day she's back to her natural hair color and she's wearing bad clothes and having sex with jocks, and even worse than your personal sense of being left behind is the realization that she's boring now. It's not just that you don't have that special person in your life anymore, it's that the person no longer exists. Um anyway that turned out to be a major exaggeration of what I was trying to say about the explosion in popularity of folk horror, which was previously one of my favorite flavors of horror; I mean I guess it still is, but the now when I see the trappings of folk horror it's no longer a must-see matter. It's just as likely to signal a generic, predictable, pandering movie as anything else.

Why has folk horror blown up like this? Kier-la Janisse would tell you that it's because of her epic documentary WOODLANDS DARK AND DAYS BEWITCHED, which is genuinely great and you should see it. But I have a sense of today's folk horror boom being "an idea whose time has come", something that is emerging in the popular consciousness because of our collective experiences. Like it's probably not a coincidence that folk horror has come into focus at the same time that the trad wife trend is happening, and witchtok has become a thing. I could say some pretty hackneyed things about the psychological effects of the digital age and our increasingly technologized, disembodied existence, but I will just let you imagine them instead.

Even though I know that the whiff of folk horror no longer promises me a great time, I still watch new specimens pretty slavishly, and LORD OF MISRULE doesn't totally suck. Actually it's tense and interesting for quite a stretch, up until you realize that it really isn't pursuing any big ideas. But my favorite part of it is--this is one of my favorite things in general, where something outrageous happens in a movie and the characters have a completely bizarre reaction: A child is abducted during an old pagan festival, and the parents slowly realize this is no ordinary crime. Actually the mom realizes immediately that something fucked up is happening while the husband keeps trying to do things by the books, almost hilariously, even after they stumble upon something so appalling that it's hard to even describe. I wish I had a screenshot for you. They find this piece of...art?...that's like a dripping wet animal hide wrapped around a hideous diorama involving baby dolls and all this shit, and underneath it is text that says HE STANDS IN THE FIELD AND WAITS. The whole thing is incredibly repulsive and shocking and you can't even begin to imagine who would make such a thing, like the fact that it even exists is really bad news in and of itself...and then the husband is driving them home calmly musing, "Hmm, WHO stands in the field and waits?", as if the most interesting thing is the exact meaning of this caption and NOT the fact that they've seen one of the most arrestingly disgusting objects that you could possibly stumble upon. I really wish the rest of the movie lived up to that one construction, but I guess nobody else found that as exciting as I did!

[vanalex]

I can't help it... I'm obsessed with him...

A little "history lesson" (for the ones interested) about how I became a fan of Type O Negative... and my feelings towards them...

When I heard 'my girlfriend's girlfriend ' for the first time in 1996 I was just a teen. Watching MTV in my bedroom. I was, at that time, very much into 60s music and aesthetic. A hippie après la lettre, sort of speak... I was also, for as long as I remember, obsessed with vampires and a huge fan of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

So when this video came on I loved the colorful backdrop and sixties influences. And then there were 4 guys dressed in black, looking like vampires. Especially the singer. I lost it. This was my new favorite band. 🤗

When 'Love you to death' came out I ordered the T-shirt (a girl t-shirt, not the unisex shirts they sell now) via postorder catalogue Large. I loved that T-shirt and would still have it, if my mom didn't throw it out with all my other band shirts, because she thinks you need to keep the economy going by buying new stuff all the time and getting rid of "old" stuff. Insert *dramatic eyeroll*

Type O Negative were not a mainstream band and unfortunately, growing up in a small town, I was about the only one, as far as I know, that liked their music.

So, I completely missed out on their 1999 world coming down release. ☹️

In the early 2000s, a record store in the city where I went to college had a clearance sale. I found the least worst of CD and bought it. Around that same time I bought the After Dark DVD. It was only then that I found out about world coming down. I liked the "new" songs, but also had mixed feelings about them. They depicted an unhealthy lifestyle.

In 2003 'I don't wanna be me' was playing on MTV and I was excited to hear more new music from them and seeing them on MTV again. I remember also being shocked with Peter's appearance in that video. He did not look well... It would become clear he wasn't doing well at all: mental and physical health problems, addiction, jail time, forced rehab, relationship problems, etc...

Later that year Type O Negative came to a festival a few hours driving from where I lived... Unfortunately I had noone to go with and my boyfriend and I were volunteering for a local 'save the forest' non profit that same weekend. I thought I would see them next time, but the same circumstances made me not see them in 2007... 😥

And although Peter looked better (healthier) in the late 2000s, he aged a lot due to his addictions and lifestyle, he also looked kind of sad when he was performing on Wacken in 2007.

When he died in 2010 I initially had peace with it, thinking it was probably for the best.... knowing about his struggles and losses...

I did not know about the circumstances of his death until many years later and since then I've felt it could have been prevented. He did not OD, he did not commit suicide... he was clean for almost a year (!), he looked happy in his last interview 🥹... he died because he didn't receive the correct medical care on time... because he was taking care of his sick cat instead of himself, because the people nearby him didn't help (Did they not see/know how severely ill he was? I guess we'll never know)...

I've always felt like I missed out on something with not seeing Type O Negative live. From all the bands I've listened to as a teen until now, they're the only band that I love more with each time I listen to them. I don't have this kind of connection with other bands/artists... Seeing pictures, videos, ... of them makes me very nostalgic... it feels like they're still around. And then it hits me they're not 😥 I just miss this band a lot and wish we had more years with them, more music...

So... seeing old pictures of them, especially Peter in his more happier and healthier years (everything before world coming down era and even before 1997), makes me feel nostalgic ... "obsessed" ... and the pictures where he smiles are solid gold. 💚

I wonder... did he ever know how truly special he was ? Handsome, intelligent, goofy, creative, sensitive... I guess he didn't and let his value be determined by others. At least, that's how I interpret some of his lyrics... What do you think about this?

So, what's your story? Why do you love their music? I would love to find out!

This last picture is my absolute favorite 💚

[kckatie]

Southern Gothic Music Festival

I spent last weekend in Athens, Georgia at the 2nd annual Southern Gothic Festival, where I saw ten bands in two nights. They sure were late nights for me. I'm still recovering from not getting enough sleep. But the bands were great!

Friday night's lineup was

Vincas

Panic Priest

House of Harm

The March Violets

Korine

Tears for the Dying

Saturday's was

Miss Cherry Delight

Deceits

The Chameleons

Vision Video

The rest of Saturday night was DJ'd by Dusty Gannon and Dan Geller.

My short descriptions are:

Vincas is a local Athens band with a swamp-rock psychedelic sound. They were alright, but not inspiring. I confess I like hearing the lyrics, and they seemed to be all drone.

Panic Priest is a post-punk darkwave synth-pop project of Jack Armondo, and was really excellent. He has a great sound, and a good stage presence.

I hadn't heard much House of Harm before the festival, but they are a Boston-based post-punk/synth-pop group. They seemed to want to play in darkness, yeah, it's goth, but still, really? I liked their sound, and I bought a CD.

The March Violets are one of the two reasons I went to the festival. They are a post-punk gothic rock band from the northern UK (Leeds). They started in 1981, and have taken some breaks. They used to be a four person band, and now they are three, but at least my favorite two original members are still with the band. Tom Ashton is an amazing guitarist. I spent a certain amount of their set just watching him play. Rosie Garland is a great singer, songwriter, and performer. She really commands the crowd when she's performing. And the new bass player, Mat Thorpe, was fun to watch, too, as he cranked out the bass along with delivering backing vocals.

I had a little chat after with Rosie, and we found we both like some of the same British electric folk. I mentioned Steeleye Span, and she mentioned June Tabor. We are of similar ages, and so have some similar musical influences. But the March Violets are my favorite Gothic Rock band.

Korine is an interesting electronic pop band. They were playing their guitars onstage, which was probably more visually interesting than playing their synths. I'd heard some of their music before, but hadn't really listened. They were good, and I bought a CD.

Tears for the Dying was the other reason I went to the festival. They are an Athens-based deathrock band, and I have really liked their sound for awhile. They don't tour that far from Athens, so when else was I going to see them? Adria, the singer and songwriter, is writing some of the best political deathrock today, especially focused on LGBTQ experience, and the current political climate.

Miss Cherry Delight is a shock rocker from New York. I'd seen some video and heard some music, so I wasn't shocked. I'll just say she's good at what she does, and she's not to my taste.

I'd heard of Deceits before, but hadn't listened to them. I really, really liked their instrumental sound, which is a very '80s style gothic sound, but was less fond of the lead's singing style. The lyrics were good, but he tends to deliver a line, play a bit, deliver the next line, play a bit, etc. Nothing wrong with that, and I suppose it might grow on me. Other things have, such as drum machines, which I used to hate.

The Chameleons are a post-punk band from the northern UK (Manchester). They delivered a great performance, and had the crowd in their hands. I wasn't going to buy vinyl and try to get it back home, but they had "Strange Times" on CD, and we bought one.

Vision Video played last, and they are the local big goth band. I've seen them several times when they've come through my area, and they're great people as well as being great musicians. Dusty is one of the few goth musicians writing current protest music, and he does it very well. Emily knocks out solid synth, and great backing vocals, and I always like it when she sings lead, whether on her song "Comfort in the Grave", or a cover.

We were pretty tired after two late nights, so we didn't stay long after Vision Video's set.

It was fun. I met a lot of people. I would consider going again!

[spiri-a]

Ello ello ello this is a rant about a Good Omens fic I like

(Pssst.... TL;DR: It’s One Miraculous December by @journeytogallifrey)

Just a while ago I was agonizing over what kind of post I should post (even though no one’s gonna read this and this accounts only purpose is to spitball all my thoughts at a rapid pace) and I suddenly realized: hey! I like fanfics! And good omens! And sometimes I finish fanfics and I have so much thought vomit stirring around inside me I need to write it down somewhere! Then BOOM this is that this is my ramble baby. This is just my poor excuse to talk and talk and talk for several paragraphs straight. Please do not enter if you don’t want to be bombarded by what is probably several thousand words sorted into 5 or 6 sections.

This will probably be part of a series where I talk uh *cough* extensively about different fanfics, different series for different fandoms probably because I don’t think the Good Omens fandom and Carry On fandom interact with each other very much at all (maybe I’ll do books in general later on down the line, but that’d be a separate series too)

Just to be safe I won’t talk about anything too spoilery, giving some minor spoilers that get talked about in the first chapters anyways. This is a pretty lighthearted fic anyways so nothing much to worry about this time!

Ok now actually let’s get started. Anyways this is a fic I read a while ago that I really really liked:

One Miraculous December (T)

By @journeytogallifrey

Ok so this was the first fic I read by journeytogallifrey, and I read it during a time over the summer where day in and day out I had nothing to do but walk and walk and walk and occasionally read on my phone (Doesn’t make sense to read a Christmas fic over the summer but whatever)

I thought this was just gonna be a casually good long fic to fill up the time but boy was I wrong I LOVED this

Let me tell you this fic was the love of my life for the week and a half or so I was reading it. I was SO INSANELY shocked and confused when I realized this fic was 187,00 WORDS after finishing

But anyways I’m getting off track again (this post is my ramble baby after all) so let’s start with what this fic is abt and then I’ll talk about my favorite things

Spiri Stfu Whats The Fic About Already

Summary (pulled from fic):

Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere.

Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory...

Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible...

Eventually these two will communicate, even if it takes 'til the end of the year. For now there will be cuddling, excuses for closeness, sappy words, flashbacks, nostalgia, bickering, and an obscene variety of holiday foods. Oh, and footnotes. That's right. We're doing those too.

Fills for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 prompt list by Caedmon. Updates every day through the end of December.

Basically TLDR: Sappy reminders of soft moments between Crowley and Aziraphale throughout history keep popping up. Crowley thinks he’s doing it subconsciously and is worried about his super duper secret feelings being revealed, meanwhile Aziraphale is executing the least subtle (but somehow still too subtle) seduction plan ever concocted (it will take these two sillies a WHILE to get sorted out)

Ok now let’s move on to all the lovely things I love about this lovely fic in special lovely little sections (Once again, I’m sorry for the sheer size of this behemoth)

Pt 1: Charming Little Footnotes, My True Love ���︎❤︎❤︎

From the very first chapter, I was completely and utterly enchanted by one silly little thing: the footnotes!! Those who have read the Good Omens book will understand: footnotes are amazing!! They often offer absolutely ZERO important information, and you could go practically the entire book never reading the footnotes and get the same general ideas as someone who did. BUT, they’re just so charming, why would you NOT read them?? They’re often unnecessary, but in a perfect and wonderfully niche way. I don’t need to understand the backstory or fun fact behind this randomly selected instant, moment, or person, but it’s so stupidly heartwarming to that I love to do it anyway. It’s like I’m being let in on a secret between me and the author, like they leaned over while someone else is talking and made a somewhat silly comment into my ear that makes you try to suppress your little smile in response.

Journeytogallifrey does this AMAZINGLY. They offer heartwarming insight on the most mundane things, and I enjoy every second of it. One of my personal favorite instances is funnily enough in the very first chapter, the footnote that first captured my heart and that I remembered throughout the entire fic. In chapter one, Aziraphale miracles for the floor of the bookshop to become a frozen lake, and he convinces Crowley to ice skate with him, reminiscing on a time they skated together centuries before. And THIS was the footnote that followed midway through the chapter:

*In fairness to the skates, they’ve had an intense couple of hours.

Mere moments before they found themselves in a 2019 bookshop, they’d only just been set down by Crowley and Aziraphale in 1860 and were debating the finer points of their recent skating adventure. Two of them, having hosted a lovely angel with excellent manners, were of a firmly positive opinion. The other two, terrorized by a demon who had berated them for trembling with fear, were engaged in a thorough character assassination of not only their tormentor but also anyone who would willingly befriend him.

“But they’re desperately in love with each other,” posited the skates worn by the angel.

“That’s beside the point,” answered the others, and that was when a miracle scooped them up and catapulted them a century and a half into the future**.

**Aziraphale, somehow, picked out the same two skates to wear in 2019 as in 1860, despite shoe sizes being less a concrete number for him and more ‘something that automatically sets itself to rights upon entrance of the foot’, so further experience has offered little to settle the argument.

THIS FOOTNOTE, THIS MOMENT, was perfection in my eyes. The completely absurd idea of two pairs of ice skates having a conversation, this conversation being about their wearers, a judgement of their character, a silly argument and observation of their silly hemming and hawing romance, was all so charming. It’s so unnecessary but also just. Completely STEALS your heart. Then there’s the footnote-ception of a footnote within a footnote, a casual disregarding of order and professionalism for the sake of being novel and silly. Not to mention the double footnote commenting on Aziraphale’s incredibly charming naïveté on the more specific parts of human inventions, such as the concept of shoe sizes. As you may have noticed from my using the same exact word like 20 times, the only word that fits the entire charmingly unnecessary but delightful footnotes thing is silly. It’s perfect because it’s perfectly silly, and that just made my heart melt.

Journeytogallifrey keeps up these footnotes throughout the fic to a certain degree, and as a reader of the Good Omens book, it’s always such a joy to find fics that bother to use footnotes. And journeytogallifrey does this wonderfully, stuffing so much life and humor into them very similar to what I found great about the footnotes in the GO book. So that is reason one (in no particular order) that I love this fic

Moving on to reason 2!

Pt 2: YOU get a flashback, and YOU get a flashback

A large amount of this fic relies on the art of flashbacks, being directly tied to Aziraphale’s Plan of Seduction™︎, which just so you know goes as follows:

Every day of December, miracle up some kind of thingy (object, place, activity, etc)

Said thingy will function as the perfect reminder to reminisce about a not-a-date date you’ve had at some point throughout history

Really drive home how close you two are and absolutely drown him in affection

Keep seducing all through December

Confess at some point (exact date TBD)

Profit

As you might have noticed, the whole reminiscing thing works as an opening for truckloads of flashbacks. But let me tell you, these flashbacks are WORKS OF ART. Unfortunately, unlike the footnotes, I can’t single out a single FAVORITE flashback, because they’re practically ALL amazing.

Journeytogallifrey very obviously did a butt ton of research for this fic, something I find so incredibly amazing about the Good Omens fandom! Many GO authors will do extensive research for the sake of their Aziraphale and Crowley throughout history scenes, which is something I’ve always heavily admired within this fandom compared to others. And journeytogallifrey does this amazingly and extensively throughout this fic!

Each flashback had so much love, charm, and most interestingly historical depth in them. Each flashback acts as a charming little mini story of the various adventures the two had throughout history. The highs and lows of their relationships, the hidden affections, moments that were fun, stressful, intimate, scary, or just simply peacefully domestic, ALL of it was present in these flashbacks, and just utterly captured my heart. I managed to learn quite a decent amount through the little historical details mentioned throughout, especially if a specific detail caught my eye and I wanted to research further. (Because of this fic, my dream is to move to Iceland and celebrate Jólabókaflóðið every year)

I love the way these two act around each other throughout history, and the writing when describing everything from the setting around them to their clothes to their care for each other is phenomenal. Normally I don’t really use words like aesthetic, but the way the different places dotted around the world are described and how the two are described to fit into them, I feel like I’m transported TO that place in history. I can see the churches, deserts, orchards, streets, markets, or wherever they are right in front of me, and it’s frankly gorgeous.

I LOVE historical flashbacks like this in general in the Good Omens fandom, but this fic does this AMAZINGLY, and it does it A LOT, so that’s a serious win in my books.

Something I also found extremely lovely about the flashbacks, as well as the present day parts of the story, brings me to my next part:

Pt 3: Gender who? Gender what? Gender none, gender all!

The gender fluidity/fluidity of gender expression of both Aziraphale and Crowley makes my heart flutter like nothing else. Like seriously. This is one of the main reasons I love this fandom.

It has long been stated that angels and demons have no inherent gender, and within the show Crowley presents as male and female in varying instances. Neil Gaiman has heavily implied Crowley being gender fluid before. In response, the fandom has completely flourished into a beautiful thing of gender acceptance and flexibility.

The fanart of the Good Omens fandom makes me so happy, because people will draw Aziraphale and Crowley in any manner they choose without feeling the need to explain it or label it as an “alternate universe.” The simple casualness around the topic of gender in this fandom sets a precedent of tolerance for the rest of the world, and also just warms my heart in ways I can’t explain.

Journeytogallifrey embraces this part of the fandom with open arms, with both Aziraphale and Crowley taking on a variety of appearances and roles throughout the flashback. The detail of changing Crowley’s pronouns depending on the flashback whilst Aziraphale maintains he/him no matter his form is a wonderful touch, and made me stupidly happy. The same goes for Crowley changing appearances to fit the alias of Nanny Ashtoreth later on in the fic, as well as his discussion with Warlock that it is all still himself, no matter what form he takes.

In my opinion, the fluidity and ease in which gender, masculinity, and femininity is expressed by Aziraphale and Crowley, both through the flashbacks and in present day, is done wonderfully, and serves to demonstrate the reason why I love this fandom so incredibly much.

Pt 4: Stabbing me gently in the feels (that’s gotta be a song lyric somewhere)

Another thing is I thought the push and pull and tender misunderstandings of these two throughout the fic is AMAZING. The delicate handling of this relationship is super wonderful and feels so stupidly softly heart wrenching. Like you’re not ripping my heart to pieces, but just kind of tugging on it. Seriously, I just wanted to hold these two and hug them and explain all their misunderstandings and send them away holding hands. The angst is so soft and tender I really can’t complain too badly.

The setup conflict between the two is, like, absolutely genius. I love it. Aziraphale trying to woo Crowley with as many gifts and miracles as possible while also playing cutely dumb about it, meanwhile Crowley is freaking out because all these miracles his lovesick heart is creating subconsciously might expose his super special secret feelings to Aziraphale, and that’d be baaaad news huh?

It’s some wonderfully sweet irony that Aziraphale innocently playing dumb is convincing Crowley he’s conjuring little mini proclamations of his super confidential feelings, and that Crowley is desperately trying to hide signs of said super duper confidential feelings while Aziraphale is actively trying to woo said demon.

This creates a lovely pushing and pulling dynamic full of tenderness and love, and it KILLED ME SLOWLY. 10/10 high quality soft angst.

Side note: I really liked the way Aziraphale and Crowleys relationship with Warlock was covered in this fic, especially Crowley’s attachment to Warlock as his nanny who raised him ever since he was little. I thought the desire to reach out to Warlock post Apocalypse was really heartfelt and sweet, and it made me feel stupidly warm seeing Aziraphale help Crowley reach out and later on solidify that relationship with Warlock.

Pt 5: How are you still here?? If you are, here have this

So um…….. this ended up being really long. My bad. I mean no one’s gonna read this anyways but I still feel a little awkward standing at the end of this VERY long ramble baby.

I just wanted to end this off by saying that One Miraculous December was SUCH a great fic, full of coziness and charm and silliness and tenderness and a lovingly crafted holiday vibe unlike no other fic I’ve read. I will definitely be rereading this fic around Christmas time, the digital equivalent of snuggling up beside a warm fireplace with hot cocoa and a good book. I seriously loved this fic so much! Like, it was just good vibes the entire way through, and I have obviously been keeping up with journeytogallifrey’s works ever since I read this one. Please please please, read this fic and give it some serious love, because it deserves it so much. I don’t know how you did it mysterious person who probably doesn’t even exist, but you got to the end. Thank you for reading my dear little ramble baby about One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey.

Now that was technically the end, but as an extra little thingy, here are some other recommendations of fics from journeytogallifrey, because they are a seriously talented author and have some amazing gems in there!

Here’s a list of my favorites:

Everything That’s Meant (T)

One of journeytogallifrey’s more recent and more popular works, this is an only slightly meta fic in which Aziraphale and Crowley are human actors playing the angel Raphael and the demon Asmodeus in the tv adaptation of Agnes Nutter’s novel Prophecies. The two actors have electrifying chemistry, but much stands in the way of the two of them, from Aziraphale’s complicated family to a haunted tv set to the things spread by the press about the two.

105,000 words (a big guy!), with 39 chapters, but such a joy to read! It’s a bit heavier in plot and emotions, and the romance is a little bit of higher stakes, but the soft moments between the two as they grow closer 100% makes up for it.

Scenes from an Italian Restaurant (T)

The shortest one of my favorites at 7,000 words in a single chapter and lightly inspired by the Billy Joel song of the same name, it tells the story of childhood friends Aziraphale and Crowley both from in their youth and reunited as adults as they dine together at (surprise surprise) their favorite Italian restaurant. There’s some hidden feelings, light angst, high school gossip, and a whole lot of stuff that happens at the tables of this Italian restaurant. In general though, it’s a wonderful, lighthearted, bite-sized time.

Infernal Escapes (T)

Roughly 37,000 words, this fic is a cute and lighthearted romance set in an escape room place. Crowley is the long suffering employee of an escape room, and is enamored by the intelligence and enthusiasm of escape room newbie, Aziraphale. The two strike up a friendship built on their love of escape rooms, and a cute and easy romance ensues. This was such a joy to read, and their easy chemistry based on their shared passion for escape rooms is infectiously sweet. There is very little to no conflict or angst in this story, so it’s a slightly lengthy but incredibly easy ride, entirely smooth sailing. If you just wanna watch two strangers meet and fall in love without all the extra things (because like, same honestly), please read this.