#the craziest part is they never realize it either.

[odysseys-blood]

you know how betraying it feels to just be vibing and somebody says some weird shit now you feel like you dont need to be here.

[crowcryptid]

Certified florida moment.

[har-har-harvey]

of course! while you’re here can i bounce off the walls talking a mile a minute, knowing that you’re listening and very happy to be there

well???

[nyaagolor]

One of the things about Natsuhi that really gets me is that she’s trying so hard to be a tradwife to cope with her situation but like. She’s bad at it. She’s really really bad at being a tradwife. She’s short tempered, belligerent, easily baited by basically anyone trying to get a rise out of her, and constantly makes her husband look worse in her attempts to defend him. She never sits quietly at his side, she never listens when he’s trying to get her to stop and let him do the talking, and she’s constantly taking charge of situations in his stead. Honestly, she just doesn’t have the temperament to be a tradwife, even if she thinks that’s what she is and what she wants.

And what’s the craziest about this is that Sayo figured this out before Natsuhi herself did. Natsuhi is someone who tries to cling onto power in any and every situation she can, in part because she ultimately doesn’t have any agency at all. She tries to find an angle through which to look at her life where she’s the one calling the shots, where she’s the one in charge, because in her super traditionalist framework that’s what autonomy is— it’s always just been punching down. In her mind, punishment and power might as well be synonymous; you’re either being told what to do or telling others what to do.

Natushi could never be the proper, submissive wife that she’s trying to be because she’s just not that good at lying to herself. She’s constantly trying to power grab in petty situations, to overcome the lack of autonomy she’s so frustrated about by throwing her weight around whenever she can. And I think that’s exactly why Sayo gave her the unloaded gun. Natushi immediately becomes bolder— she lashes out, she takes command of situations, she’s confident— because to her the gun is just the physical manifestation of having the agency to be those things at all. She can take charge of situations because in her mind she’s gotten the power to do so now— agency over herself is always coupled with power over others to her. But the gun was always empty and the promise was always false.

It doesn’t matter how Natsuhi feels or what power she wields over the people beneath her, because she never really had any autonomy so long as she was Ushiromiya Natsuhi. She was and is only ever allowed to do what they permitted. When she fights with Eva in the family conferences, it’s because Krauss is wiling to sit back and let her be the scapegoat. She can bully the servants because the people in the house who are actually supposed to be in charge of them don’t care. Natsuhi fights like a dog for any semblance of power or choice in the narrative, not realizing it’s still within the confines of what the people who have stolen her agency are allowing her have. She’s given a metaphorical gun to wave around, but even though it smokes and fires and makes noise, there was never any real threat to the people who gave it to her, because she was given the gun unloaded. Perhaps more importantly though, she doesn’t know the difference

[n0ahsebastians]

a million one, a million two, your house all the way to the moon; part one

someone requested a one shot of noah and reader’s wedding day/night and i’m FINALLY writing it !! this will be in 2 parts, so here’s part one!! the wedding day !! i hope you all enjoy, this was so much fun to write ☺️☺️

(title of one shot taken from ‘simple math’ by the wldlfe)

no triggers, just fluff and cuteness :3

 He never thought he’d be here right now, dress pants and a black tux shirt adorning his frame. He’d never worn anything this uncomfortable in his entire life, he was sure of it. But he was doing it for her, for them. He could not believe this was happening. He didn’t think he was even deserving of this, of her. He remembered so vividly the day he had asked her. Just simply sitting on the couch eating ramen. He couldn’t stop looking at her the entire time. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she had asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. He smiled back, shaking his head. 

“I can’t look at you?”

“Well I mean…yes. But why?”

“I have a question for you.” He could feel the way his heart started racing before he even got the question out. His hands were starting to sweat and his ears were ringing. This was the most nervous he had ever been in his entire life, he thought. 

“Okay?” She set her bowl of soup down, pulling her feet up onto the couch and crossing her legs. She turned to face him. “What’s up?”

“Umm…well…”

She raised her eyebrows at him. Why was he acting like this? Nervous as hell?

“Noah, are you alright honey?” She reached out to touch his cheek. Her hands were chilly against the heat of his skin and she pulled away for a brief second. 

“You’re warm.” Her brow furrowed as she examined his face some more.

“I’m fucking scared,” he finally blurted out, reaching into his pocket to pull out the small box he’d had in there since 10am. A small breath escaped her lips as the realization hit her. Noah wipes his sweaty hands onto his sweats, setting the box on top of his knee.

“But I love you. I love you more than anything in this entire world, and I’m fucking lucky you’re mine. I know I’m away a lot, even when I’m home. I disappear for hours and I know you say you’re okay with it because it’s my career. And it makes me love you even more.”

Tears are beginning to well in her eyes and she laughs gently as he continues with his speech.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he reaches for her hands, lacing them together. “I want you everyday for the rest of my life,” he opens the box, revealing a small ring inside, “if you’ll have me.”

She laughs again, leaning forward to kiss him softly. He chuckles against her lips, cupping her cheeks in his hands, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down them.

“I love you,” she whispers, kissing him again. “You’re my everything.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Of fucking course I’ll marry you,” like it’s the craziest question he’s ever asked her. He slides the ring onto her finger, watching the way she lights up even more at the small band that’s now a permanent promise between them.

“That’s been sitting in my pocket since you woke up this morning,” he admits, kissing her again. She giggles, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t blow it sooner.”

“Well asking you while you’re sitting on the toilet probably would’ve been the wrong time.”

She lets out a boisterous laugh, covering her face with her hands and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“While eating ramen though was perfect. An A plus for you, my love.”

Noah smiles cheekily at his now fianceé, thinking that she could not get more beautiful than she was right now. 

Except for today. She was so beautiful, he thought. In her black pantsuit to match his own tux. She swore she would not wear a dress and he knew she meant it. He was glad she didn’t, she was perfect either way though. She was perfect to him no matter what she wore. 

Davis, Matt, Folio, Jolly, Nicholas, and Bryan were all by his side that day. His brothers. She had her mom, her two sisters, and three of her closest friends, all gathered with them in the courthouse. They had talked about not doing anything too big. They wanted something small from the beginning and they thought just a courthouse wedding was both their style. 

Noah kept messing with his collar the entire time they were waiting to walk out to the judge. He hated feeling restricted in any way with his clothing and he felt that at this very moment. Davis tried to help loosen the buttons on the collar but it was no use; he still felt incredibly restricted.

Until she walked in. He honestly felt that that was the problem. He needed to see her at least once before they became husband and wife. 

“You need to stop messing with it hun,” she told him, giving a wink to Davis who she knew had been trying to help him this whole time. 

“I’m trying but it’s fucking suffocating me, it feels like.”

He was getting frustrated, she could tell.

“Come here.”

She took him by the hand, walking down the hallway to one of the small rooms they had been allowed to use to get ready. She shut the door, locking it behind her. 

“What do you need?” She tried her best to relax him, running her hands up and down his clothed arms, over his cheeks. He was so warm, he had to have been burning up in this suit. 

“I need this…fucking suit off.” 

“Okay, hey. Look at me.”

He did. He took a shuddering breath and tried his best to stay as calm as possible. He knew this would happen and now he feels horrible. This day was supposed to be about them, about them uniting their love.

Instead he was having a fucking panic attack over his damn suit collar.

“Just breathe okay? Just breathe.”

He closed his eyes, took deep breaths in and out as he tried to calm himself down. He eventually got himself to where his suit didn’t feel so tight on him anymore.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She smiled softly at him.

“You never have to be sorry, love. I’m here for you now and always.”

He smiled at her, leaned forward to kiss her gently. Just letting their lips rest against one another’s for a moment. Letting them revel in their last moments as fiancés. He rests their foreheads together, running his fingers up and down the length of her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin for a moment. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his breath fanning against her lips. 

“I love you most.”

“Let’s get fucking married,” he pulls her in tight, kissing her again. She laughs against his mouth.

“Let’s do it, baby.”

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

“Do you, (Reader’s name) take this man, Noah Sebastian Davis, to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

She was already crying before the judge had even got the words out. Their families were standing with them, smiling from ear to ear, laughter and tears from both sides as everyone shared stories of hers and Noah’s lives. Years before they ever knew each other. It made her love him even more as he squeezed her hands in his at the judge’s words. 

“I do,” she said, her mother’s small “Yay!” causing the room to erupt in laughter. 

“Thank god,” Jolly jokingly replies, earning another laugh among everyone. 

“And do you, Noah, take (Reader’s full name) to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

“Fuck yes, I do.”

She smiles so brightly as the laughter continues between them, the judge closing his book and asking for the rings. Nicholas brings one, her older sister brings the other. She places the ring on Noah’s finger, watching the way the gold band reflects off the light in the courtroom and she begins to cry again. Noah places her ring against her engagement ring, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They lace their fingers together, knowing it’s so close to them finally being man and wife. 

“So we’ve placed the rings on each other. You’ve now been united as one,” the judge says, smiling at her and Noah. 

“By the power invested in me by the great state of California, and the county of Los Angeles, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride, Noah!”

Applause from the twelve family members erupts as Noah pulls her in tight, kissing her with everything he has. He cups her cheeks, running his thumbs over her cheekbones, the gentleness of his tongue pushing against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers so only his wife can hear him. His wife. 

The cheers and hoots and hollers continue from the boys and her sister and friends. 

“I love love love you,” she says, kissing him again. “You’re my husband.” She says it like she can’t believe it’s real; she’s so full of love and emotion for this man in front of her. So incredibly in love with him she thinks she might explode.

“You’re my wife,” he says, tears falling down his cheeks. She wipes them away as they stay in their little bubble for a bit longer while everyone around them starts dancing in the courthouse. 

“Do you think we should give them some attention now?” he asks. She giggles, leaning in for another kiss, running her thumbs against the tears that have stained into his cheeks.

“Okay now we can.” 

They walk hand in hand out the courthouse doors, standing out in the hot sun to celebrate. Noah continues to complain about his collar being too tight on his neck and he’s finally able to loosen it a bit. With help from her and Davis of course. Bryan takes pictures, ones they’ll hang in their home to commemorate the day. There’s candids, kisses, and tears. There’s also laughs, intimacy, and a love so strong between everyone that gathered with them today. Noah knows he’ll remember this day for the rest of his life.

“I love you, baby,” Noah whispers into her hair as they finish up their photoshoot and walk hand in hand back to the courthouse to get ready for the reception. 

“I love you most.” 

[alessiathepirate]

Scream

REFLECTION: Stu Macher x fem!reader; Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Summary: As she looks around the shrine, she can't help but reflect on how she has become who she is...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

This is the craziest thing I've ever written... I hope you'll enjoy reading it :)

Warnings: SPOILERS! (for mainly Scream 1, 5 and 6), unhealthy relationships, mental instability, blood, violence, referenced death

•••

Walking around the shrine and examining the collection of sold evidence made her realize that she is walking down memory lane. The knives, the clothes and the memories of the people who once owned them were all parts of her life; were all parts of her actions and then the consequences of those which made her into who she is today.

She wasn't the only one thinking that. It was enough to look at everyone else's expression to know they too were overcome by memories. They were all parts of the still ongoing franchise, they are still playing their parts in it, even if nowadays they have new friends to either suspect or worry about.

The most interesting and with that scariest part of the shrine was the costumes. All of them thoughtfully put to place, still holding the blood and DNA of both victim and killer.

That was the aspect she seemed interested in. Walking up towards it, ignoring the others' voices got her to a whole another world.

Nothing else, but her and the costume, her and her memories, her and her reflection on the glass.

'Billy Loomis' was carved into the cabinet where the glass ended, making the whole thing look like a trophy. It was one perhaps, but not without its pair. She never understood how only one was thought about as the original, when clearly two should've been put behind that glass.

Looking at the costume and then at the knife while she could see her reflection, let some pushed away memories up to the surface.

They were either memories from 1996 or the years before that and even though she should've thought about them as the lies and as the worst memories of her life, she liked those - maybe a bit too much. Even though everyone except the psychos out there thought about Woodsboro and about Billy Loomis and Stu Macher as a very dark part of a long timeline, she couldn't agree with them. She accepted that they are right. Murders aren't acceptable, threats aren't acceptable... But other than her moral code nothing else in her wanted to see that.

She didn't want to see that, because 1996 was the best year of her life - and the years before that held her happiest memories.

She remembered how she befriended the boys - Billy and Stu - and how through them she got to know Sidney, Tatum and Randy. But even though she liked all of them, her relationship with the two boys was stronger than others.

"I thought you invited me over to study." she remembered herself saying on a winter day after she arrived at Stu's place. Even now thinking about is, she still wanted to laugh at how quickly they took her backback and helped her take off her coat.

"Yes, but this is more important than some sappy project about Romeo and Juliet." Stu explained after he threw her backpack next to the coat hanger, stopping her from picking it up. He then put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her towards the living room.

"You mean the Hamlet. We have to make the project about the Hamlet. Sidney has to make one about Romeo and Juliet."

"Whatever! We can do that later, but now look at what we've got for you."

She looked at Billy with a smile. He held a video tape in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked with a small giggle, because Stu put his whole bodyweight on her as he hugged her and they almost fell.

"We'll have a movie night. We never had one with you so now it's time to make up for the lost time."

"All right, you've got me." she chuckled after she got out of Stu's grip, because he started to tickle her. "What are we watching?"

"You said you've never seen Halloween-"

"So let me guess, we are watching Halloween?"

They did. And they most definitely haven't done any schoolwork that day. They just sat on the couch with her in the middle. She had some popcorn in her lap. Her back was pushed against Stu's shoulder while her legs were stretched out across Billy's thighs.

And the amout of information she recieved... They used this and that for blood, they did this scene like this, that actor can be seen in another horror movies as well... It wasn't annoying at all. In fact she hadn't had more fun watching Halloween since that day.

The only problem they had was the fact that she wasn't scared - at all.

"What, you want me to climb on top of you in fear?" she joked and threw a piece of popcorn at Stu after she saw his expression and deduced the things he wanted to say. "Besides it's pretty hard to get scared if I have to sit between two experts who spoil everything."

She wanted to say that they were friends. And they were, she knew they thought about her as a friend at the start as well. Even though later she understood that that day they just wanted to test her and her fears. They wanted to see her reactions to know if she's really who they thought she was.

But later there started to be one issue in that friendship. Friends don't kiss. They don't make out or cuddle like couples do.

God, how awful she felt! She couldn't look Sidney or Tatum in the eye for weeks, and she had to avoid the boys for a while.

Her first ever kiss happened between her and Stu. It was very close to the end of a school year and his parents were away again. She had that strange feeling in her chest that said she's letting him down if she lets him be alone in that house. So she went there and baked some cookies with him to make sure he's happy - even though she's never seen him make the smallest frown.

And then it just happened.

First they joked around, made a mess in the kitchen and were about the start cleaning when he leaned in and kissed her.

Her first reaction was to freeze and just stand there in shock. But later she kissed back and held onto his shoulders, fearing she'll fall.

She didn't.

Her waist just touched the kitchen counter.

Thinking about it still made her stomach feel empty, her throat dry and her cheeks red. It was the softest kiss she's ever shared with anyone. She never imagined Stu to be able to kiss someone softly, but it seemed like she was wrong.

"This- isn't right." she said after the kiss ended and the sudden guilt overtook her. "You are dating Tatum. She's my friend. This isn't-"

"Why can't it be right if it feels good?"

She left his house that afternoon in a hurry, afraid to look back, knowing that if she did she'd go back in a heartbeat.

Kissing Billy Loomis was a whole another dimension. She knew he knew about what happened; she later realized he used that knowledge to weaken her and get what he wants.

He climbed through her window one evening and after she let him in, he started some small talk with her about movies. He didn't ask her about Stu or about the kiss, he just talked about the smallest things possible.

"Are you okay?" he later asked, after she answered with short sentences.

"Yeah."

"You're a horrible liar." he said with a smirk. "I can tell. I've known you far too long."

And that sentence alone made her tell him everything. And after he comforted her and hugged her, he ran his fingers along her cheek and then her hair. She looked up at him with a slight blush.

"Can I kiss you?"

That evening she had her second kiss with Billy Loomis, knowing she's the worst friend in existence.

It was a lot of back and forth from then on, until everything seemed to get back on track... Until the murders started to happen.

And during those days when the attacks happened, when she wasn't comfortable staying home alone they weakened her. During those moments they started to form a weird understanding - they are friends, but with something else... They had some great movie nights, they hugged more than usual. She started to feel happy, living in denial.

And then at that party the reveal happened. The reveal that changed everything. She still remembered the blood, the way Randy was lying on the ground. The house she knew like the back of her hand became something unknown and scary. She remembered how scared Sidney was, she remembered the betrayal she felt when she had to look the boys she loved in the eye.

It was like she was in a movie they were explaining all those times. Almost everything felt familiar yet surprising. The twist was right, the corn syrup was from Carrie, the 'we all go a little mad sometimes' line was known by her... She knew everything yet she was still surprised.

But the way they spoke to her, the way they touched her or hugged her with that wicked grin on their faces was something soft. Something what felt comfortable and good.

And then...

"-final girl." her eyes became teary as she looked at Billy who still kept Sidney at the counter with the knife. She was thankful she didn't have to look at the edge of it. "Every horror movie needs a final girl. Remember when we explained it to you darling?"

She did.

"Well guess what, you got that role in our movie."

And she understood. She understood why they watched all those scary movies with her, why they explained all the production secrects...

But making her partake in it also meant they were sure she'd never snitch them out. And as she watched them she realized she wouldn't.

"Are you okay?" she got back to reality as a hand touched her shoulder.

"Yeah. I am. I just- remembered something." she answered as Sam, the daughter of Billy Loomis stood next to her, looking at the costume as well.

"You knew him, right?"

"Yes." she answered, not daring to tell the whole story behind that knew.

They stood there next to each other as she thought about Stu and Billy again. The blood after they stabbed the other was gushing from the wounds. And as they raised the knife again and again she saw her reflection on the bloody iron. Her reflection what was full of worry, but the fear was completely missing.

"Do you ever think about him?" Sam asked making her consider what she should reply.

"Sometimes, but it's more like a them. You can't have any memories of one of them without the other."

"They went crazy and stabbed you... I guess it really is hard to think about just one of them. Or about anything happy with them."

" 'We all go a little mad sometimes.' " she quoted, but after realizing Sam doesn't know the meaning of the sentence, she continued: "I still have some happy memories, you know. They played their roles quite well."

She touched the right part of her stomach, where the scar was still visible. The wound she got from them wasn't deep. They made sure it wasn't. But it still hurt, no matter how much Stu hugged her.

Looking at the costume behind the glass made her realize how much she misses them. No matter what they've done, what they made her into, she still loved them. They had a special kind of connection. She was their final girl - that part of the plan worked out flawlessly.

Sam opened the cabinet and she examined her expressions with a raised eyebrow.

"We need a weapon. For defense." she explained and took the still bloody knife.

"You aren't like him, you know. At all." she said, looking at the way Sam is holding the weapon as she took the handle of the cabinet and pushed Sam back a little.

She took a deep breath before she slammed the glass door shut, almost being unable to hide a smile at the sound of glass breaking. She looked at her reflection one last time as it broke to millions of tiny pieces.

Sam jumped a little and she could already hear Gale calling out from behind her.

Moments later she was hugged as different people muttered 'it's okay's. They thought it was an accident, it was completely accidental.

It wasn't. She just doesn't like injustice.

Gale was hugging her. She didn't know the truth, nor did Sidney or Kirby. Sometimes she thought maybe Randy has been the only one who suspected something.

She hid her feelings well and she burried the fact that she wanted Billy and Stu to succeed deep in herself.

As she looked at Ethan Landry above Gale's shoulder she noticed the slight headtilt and curious smile he couldn't hide. He turned towards detective Bailey for only a second, but it was enough for her to know the truth.

Their eyes met.

She tried not to smile as she acknowledged that they are now sharing each others secrets. After all: it takes one to know one.

[bridgertonnteas]

Is Luke Newton a good guy or is he as sketchy as all these accounts make him out to be? It’s like we have Nicola’s Luke and then Rory’s Luke… it’s weird.

He is a good guy, so don't listen to these accounts

What is happening is something started on tiktok from people who has been projecting on Nic & they started the rumors that "how he hates nic" blablabla when that wasn't true

then things just kept progressing by these accounts like there is literally a woman who never watched the show in the first place who has been making hate tiktoks on him when she doesn't even know, but decided to hate on him because he is dating typical tiktok dancer over someone like Nic & the craziest part is that woman isn't even a Nic fan either

There are also some accounts who hate him & hate Colin as a character who do like Nic, but they only tolerate him because they thought him & Nic would be dating or secretly dating, but when they realize that he isn't dating Nic, they decide to openly hate on him & saying vile stuff, completely discarding everything Nic has been saying about him all those years before s3 even started filming Like they don't realize that when they say he isn't a good person, then that would mean Nic is a liar & fake person + if he was a bad person then Nic is a bad person too because she is close friend with him

The point is many are projecting on him just as it happened with Colin & polin in the show with people saying Colin is a red flag because he didn't get with Pen sooner or recognized she liked him sooner, & now some people are angry because he isn't dating Nic faking outrage in her behalf over nothing & honestly some of those people make Nic look bad like I have already seen haters make assumptions about her because of how some are acting in her behalf or using her name to hate on him; she is getting called desperate & pathetic when in reality she is unbothered busy filming a movie and hanging with her friends in her free time

L & r0ry had fallouts before more than once from what I know, but he also has loyalty to him because r0ry was before one of few who supported him when he needed and during hard times

[starry-hughes]

field of daisies

quinn hughes x reader, daisy's au

summary: the relationship between quinn and you after you find out you're pregnant

warnings: pregnancy, slow burn, crying, baby, baby shower, birth, hospital, doctors, hints at shitty parents (y/n's parents!), anxiety

au masterlist

Sitting in a doctor’s office on a Thursday morning is not how you expected things to be going for you. The last month of your life had been a jumble of things. You hardly realized something was up with your body until yesterday. The paper clutched in your hand with test results. You had almost laughed in the face of the nurse practitioner when she asked you if you could possibly be pregnant. “No, I don’t think so.” You had told her. But she still asked for a test just in case. 

“There’s options of course if you would like to explore those,” the doctor’s voice finally flooded your ears. “Thank you,” you abruptly said, grabbing your things and leaving the room. You were going to be sick. A baby? You couldn’t handle this. You weren’t even dating anyone, but you had the craziest idea to keep the baby. Leaving the office, you got to your car before the nerves finally bubbled over, throwing up on the pavement next to your car. 

There was only one thought running through your mind: Quinn. 

Quinn Hughes did not sleep around. It was not in his nature. But he had been so stressed with how the season was going he broke his rule. Finding you across the bar that night. The Canucks season had started horribly. That was the beginning of your relationship if you could even call it that. Quinn would call you anytime he was stressed, which was a lot for someone on a team that was losing almost every game in October. It was one night in particular that you could think this happened. Meeting him at the bar, one or two or five drinks, you couldn’t remember. 

Surely the two of you had been sober enough to remember protection, or you remembered birth control or the morning-after pill. If you asked Quinn what happened that night, he would say that he went home with you and by the next morning, he was watching you collect your clothes from the ground of his bedroom. He never did find the condom wrapper. And you were late to work, not having time to stop by the pharmacy for a Plan B. The night had been forgotten until that moment. 

Since then, you hadn’t seen Quinn. He had gotten too focused on his game. You weren’t exactly sure how to frame the news to him. You couldn’t just text him ‘I’m pregnant’. It didn’t feel right. Part of you wanted to never tell him and pray that you didn’t bump into him on the street with your kid in your arms. But that didn’t feel right either. Driving from the doctor’s office straight to his apartment, you didn’t even know if the security guard would let you in. Quinn played professional hockey, they weren’t just going to let some random girl into his apartment. 

Halfway through your argument with the security guard, claiming you knew Quinn, he walked into the lobby. Eyebrows furrowed together, “(Y/N).” You were right, his apartment security guard did not let you pass the lobby, ignoring your argument that you knew Quinn Hughes. Quinn was returning home from practice and saw you there. 

You thought that when you broke the news to Quinn, he would accuse you of lying or force a paternity test. “You sure?” he gulped after what seemed like forever. “Doctor confirmed it an hour ago. Listen, I’m going to keep the baby. If you want to be in my life and theirs, you can, but I’m not expecting money or anything if you don’t want to be. Your name won’t even have to be on the birth certificate,” you rambled. 

“Can I just have a little to think?” he stuttered. You had never felt more alone than in the time Quinn took to think. It was a total of three days before you got a text from him, saying that he wanted to help you raise his kid. “We need to discuss things,” he started after meeting you for coffee. He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. He also made sure you were not drinking coffee, saying that he learned that you could only have decaf when pregnant. “I was thinking that you should move in with me. I have the space. Two extra rooms, one for you and one for the baby. Financial support and whatever you need. Co-parents.” 

You were hesitant at first, but you soon found yourself breaking your lease and moving in with Quinn Hughes. It was weird. Quinn and you barely knew one another on a personal level, but now you were living together, and there was a baby growing that was the product of the two of you. “Are we telling anyone?” you blurted from the couch before Quinn left for a road trip. “We probably should.” 

Quinn had called his parents that night when he got to his hotel room. It was not a fun phone call. Scolding and questioning that was borderline an interrogation. He had never felt like he had disappointed his parents as much as he did at that moment. Your phone call with your family was worse, basically being disowned. 

You weren’t sure if it was pregnancy hormones or what but you were calling Quinn that night in tears. “My parents just disowned me I think,” you sniffled over the phone. He felt bad, “Do you need me to come home? I can take a personal leave.” You shook your head, “No, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Do you want to come home with me for Christmas?” he blurted. 

So you did. You went to Michigan for the holidays. Meeting Quinn’s family was nerve-wracking. Luckily, his brothers, Jack and Luke, were there to break the tension. “At least he’s the oldest one of us, Mom. It could have been Luke,” Jack grinned. 

Quinn and you had a serious sit-down conversation with his parents. When you were asked about your support system, you simply looked away before Quinn spoke up again, “I’m her support system, Mom.”

-

Whenever Quinn was home from games, you were scheduling doctor’s appointments. He shyly knocked on your bedroom door one afternoon. He was returning from practice, a piece of paper in his hands. “I, uh, I asked some of the guys on the team for doctor suggestions. The wives gave me a bunch of different names of midwives and doulas. My mom also sent over some tea for the morning sickness,” Quinn stuttered. The two of you stayed in your room for hours, laughing as you two finally got to know one another. A sense of comfort fell over you. 

The first doctor’s appointment Quinn got to attend was something you’d never forget. He had missed the first appointment where you got to hear the heartbeat. Quinn swore he would never hear such a beautiful sound as he did that day, hearing the heartbeat for the first time. The ultrasound technician looked at Quinn and you, a small chuckle leaving her lips as Quinn tried to hide his tears. “Are you two wanting to know if it’s a baby girl or boy?” 

The extra room in Quinn’s apartment used to be his area to work out at home. Now it is painted a soft yellow color. Elias and Brock had come over to help paint as Quinn and you put together the crib. Your baby bump was growing each day, and Quinn was struggling not to kiss you every time he saw you. “Do you want her letters up on this wall or the other?” Brock asked, holding up the wooden letters that spelled out the name you had picked out. “Above the changing table,” you stated. “You heard the woman,” Quinn smiled at you. “I don’t know which one the changing table is,” Elias mumbled. 

-

The wives of the players on the Canucks were begging to throw you a baby shower. You were fine with the idea until it actually started. People were in the apartment everywhere, and you felt trapped. It had been decided that the guys would be able to attend the baby shower. “Bathroom break,” you smiled sweetly at Natalie Miller, handing her your cup of water. Quinn had been talking to Podz and Andrei when he saw you walking off. 

The nursery was silent when you stepped in. A soft knock came on the door, and Quinn entered. “You okay?” he asked. “I’m overwhelmed,” you admitted on the verge of tears. “I can tell everyone to go,” Quinn frowned, “I don’t want you and Daisy upset.” Daisy. That was the name the two of you had picked out. “I just needed a breather.” 

Quinn stayed with you until you were ready to rejoin the party. “Quinn, can you maybe just hold my hand for the rest of the party?” you asked, barely above a whisper. He nodded, holding his hand out for you to take. Your hands stayed intertwined for the rest of the party. 

-

By month six of your pregnancy, there was no longer awkwardness between Quinn and you. It was late April, and the Canucks were done for the season. Usually, Quinn would return home to Michigan for the summer, but with you pregnant, it was decided for him to stay with you in Vancouver. Quinn had learned a lot about you since you moved in. He had seen you at your worse, puking over the toilet or crying because you had to buy new clothes. You had learned about his family and his quirks. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch, talking about the baby and the upcoming months. “Quinn!” you shouted in the middle of his sentence, sitting up. He panicked, sitting up and asking what was wrong. “She kicked! I swore I felt it!” you said excitedly. Quinn waited for a soft nod from you before he reached out his hand to place it on your baby bump. Once his hand relaxed against your bump, he waited for a minute or two. The smallest movement happened, making both of you smile and laugh. “That’s our baby,” Quinn mumbled. 

The romantic relationship between the two of you had only grown over your pregnancy. It was confusing for both of you. Almost kissing in the kitchen but sleeping in separate rooms. Quinn was asleep when you padded into his room. “Quinn? Can I sleep with you? My body pillow isn’t helping tonight,” you whined out tiredly. Quinn nodded, moving over in his bed. You climbed in, immediately clinging to him. He didn’t realize that you were basically going to use him as a body pillow, your arms circling his neck as you finally found comfort. He wasn’t comfortable at all, but he was just happy that you were asleep. 

A couple of weeks later, you were getting to the point where you couldn’t put your shoes on by yourself. You walked across the living room to Quinn, who was playing video games on the couch. “Your daughter is making me pee every ten minutes.” A smile broke out on his face, “Oh? Now she’s just my daughter?” 

You groaned at his comment, walking off to the kitchen for a snack. “It takes two to make a baby sweetheart!” He called after you. 

-

Quinn brushed his hand through the hair sticking to your forehead. You had been in bed with Quinn again, using the excuse of needing comfort, when your water broke. “Sweetheart,” Quinn cooed softly. Quinn had gotten you to move to the couch before you plopped onto the couch in tears. “We have to get to the hospital soon,” he said. The baby bag was already in his hands. 

“I’m scared Quinn.” 

Your voice wobbled as you looked at Quinn through tears. “I know,” he kneeled in front of you, “I’m terrified too. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to either of you. You’re going to be an amazing mother. You did all those parenting classes and read all the books. Daisy is going to be so loved.” 

You nodded along with his words, and Quinn was able to get you to the car. “Did you remember my slippers?” You mumbled as he drove. “Yes, they’re in the bag, along with all the bottles, outfits, rags, blankets, pacifiers, and gloves. Everything is there.” 

It was a tiring couple of hours, but it was all worth it as your daughter was placed on your chest, wailing out. Quinn was wiping away the tear on your cheek as he cried too. “She’s beautiful,” you cried out to Quinn. “She is.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, Quinn.” 

He didn’t know if it was the medication or the adrenaline that made you say that, but he didn’t care. “I love you too.” 

A couple of days later, the two of you were returning home, a newborn baby girl in your arms. “Welcome home, Daisy,” Quinn whispered as the two of you sat on the couch, “you’re so loved.”

[2030kamenriders]

Darn, I had the craziest and most vivid Toku dream last night.

So it all started with this crossover movie. Judging by the focus characters, it was some sort of Gokaiger special, but also Decade and the Kamen Riders were there. So I figured it was just one of those pre-existing Gokaiger-Decade specials

Except at one point I guess I got warped into the movie instead of just watching it. And that's where it got weird.

So (checks internet to make sure I get the name right) Patrick Stewart shows up in a Star Trek outfit, and asks me if I know who he is. (I am bad at Star Trek lore, and the only name that came to mind was Spock, but I knew he wasn't Spock because that's the guy with the pointy eyebrows. I explained this to him, and turns out he didn't mind. Anywho he's Captain Picard.)

The scene then switched to some civilians. Turns out the bad guys of the movie (we're gonna say Shocker but frankly I don't remember seeing any of their henchmen. Could've been Zangyack or Foundation X or something) were doing some changes to time/dimensions to either turn people evil or to simply have them forget who they are. Very convoluted stuff that didn't make sense.

Scene change to the Gokaigers (and I guess I was looking from their perspective?) seeing the effects on the Toei heros.

The Shinkengers were all there except for Takeru, and they were in shambles. At least one of them was trying to cope by becoming a punk rocker or something. In my head I was thinking "oh they couldn't get the actor back for this movie". But in the movie it was heavily implied that Takeru Shiba died, due to the whole bad guy plot just generally making life tougher for the Super Sentai teams.

There's then this cut to a quick heavily-CG scene of a big fight between some of the Sentai mechas and the bad guys, and the mechas are severely outnumbered. Like, the bad guys were covering the entire area the way the OOO Gatakitiba form does, but they were mech-sized.

Now here's the weird part: 2 of the mechs looked distinctly like the Kingohger and the Patoranger mechs. How are they here?! (In-universe the idea was that the bad guys were also attacking future teams that didn't exist yet, and as a viewer I was thinking "Wow, Toei planned these teams in advance?" This was before I realized this was a fake movie in my head.)

Cut back to the Gokaigers and Shinkengers. A bunch of evil henchmen show up, but then Accel and W show up too. However, Accel and W are just standing there, and I'm not sure what they were up to, but I guess the idea was that they forgot about how to be Kamen Riders (despite being in the suits. I mean like, they forgot the idea of it in their souls or something)

So Akiko is there trying to get them to remember. But then there's this other civilian trying to help Akiko, who had the vibes of being from slightly in the future? And her hair was blonde but with blue streaks in a couple of ponytails, and she had a cool jacket and giant running shoes. And she never said her name, but at one point she referred to herself as Akiko and Terui's kid, so I was thinking "Haruna?!" But they gave her really fake-looking blue contact lenses (event though she wasn't acting possessed by Urataros) so at the same time I was like "oh darn it they whitewashed her. How the heck did that happen?"

And then the scene switched back to Picard trying to negotiate with the bad guys to stop them. Unfortunately he was not succeeding.

Anyway back to the toku heroes: then Decade showed up. But I woke up before he could do anything.

In conclusion:

[sokkastyles]

Just saw the craziest take. Zuko's redemption arc will be incomplete til he helps his sister heal and he let's go of the sibling rivalry Ozai created. What? Am I missing something? He needs to help his abuser heal?

It's not just the idea that he needs to help his abuser heal that is bad. This idea fails on its very premise. Not to mention that Zuko learning that he did not have to play nice with abusive people or listen to them was a big part of his redemption arc. Which includes Azula because there was that whole thing where he almost joined the gaang in Ba Sing Se until Azula convinced him to join with her, and the climax of his arc was rejecting and atoning for that choice and then defeating Azula in battle in combination with Katara, in a perfect reversal of his choosing Azula over Katara at the end of book 2. Saying NO to Azula was a large part of Zuko's redemption arc.

But the main reason why this take is wrong is that Zuko ALREADY let go of the "sibling rivalry." Which wasn't a sibling rivalry to begin with, because Zuko was never a rival to Azula, he was her Ozai-approved punching bag. Him standing up to her and defeating her was rejecting what Ozai created, which was not a sibling rivalry but a golden child/scapegoat dynamic where Zuko was the scapegoat. Zuko refusing to BE the scapegoat any longer IS letting it go.

Zuko let it go when he told Ozai that Azula lied to him about the Avatar's death. He let it go when he told Ozai that he didn't care about his approval anymore, and therefore has no reason to seek it either from Azula or by fighting her. He doesn't fear being Ozai's scapegoat anymore and he's not cowed by Azula's threats. He chooses to walk away.

And like, I know I keep saying this but I can't stress it enough. What Zuko does in walking away is the thing that abusers fear the most. Believing that you are responsible for "healing" an abusive person is what a lot of abusive people want, because it's another way for them to control the relationship and the narrative. Walking away from an abusive relationship is always a valid choice, and sometimes it's a necessary choice. And sometimes that's what letting go looks like.

And that's sad, but it was never Zuko who couldn't let it go. It's also not Zuko who continues to hold on to it, who challenges his sibling to an agni kai and says it was "always meant to be" even after the other person has chosen to walk away. Zuko left, remember? Azula was the one who came after him in "The Southern Raiders" with the intent to kill him because she couldn't let him walk away and live. Azula is the one who won't back down from a fight and says it was "the showdown that was always meant to be." Zuko came back to face her because he wanted to save the world. Azula is the one who holds onto a personal grudge. Azula is the one who cheats when she realizes she can't win. Azula is the one who almost kills her brother and laughs while he is dying. (Do NOT talk to me about Zuko's expression while she is tied to a grate when Azula had THAT expression after she had struck her brother with lightning.)

Azula is the one who, in the comics, continues to hold onto her hatred, continues to justify Ozai's abusiveness, and rejects Zuko's attempts to reach out to her every single time. Azula is the one who used Zuko's offer of dignity to weasel herself into a position where she could keep their mother's letter from him and force Zuko to take her along and put them all in danger. If anything, I'd say that Zuko's mistake in that comic was believing that she would be helpful to him in the first place and that she wouldn't try to take advantage of him. But the fact that he does continue to try to be kind to her shows how much he has risen above what his family tried to do to him. But he also has every right to be angry at her and distance himself from her completely. Just because he's still hurting doesn't mean he hasn't healed. And Zuko's abusers aren't the ones who get to be the measure of whether he has healed. Especially when they keep trying to hurt him.

I find it interesting that Azula is the one who keeps holding onto the idea that she is Ozai's golden child, and yet I've never, ever, ever seen it suggested that Azula should let it go, even when Zuko has risen above it and Ozai has rejected her. Even while Azula's reluctance to let go of this destructive mindset continues to hurt her as well as those around her. That's what Azula's mother tried to tell her in the mirror at the end of ATLA, that's what Zuko tried to tell her at the end of the "Search," and why she wept when he did. It's also why Ursa offered Azula an apology even when she didn't remember her, because she could see that Azula was holding onto this thing so tenaciously. Azula's mind has been telling her this whole time that she needs to let it go, but she can't. And that's a tragedy, but it's not one that Zuko is responsible for or had any hand in making.

[kanerallels]

chenford fic as well. fairytale au.

I swear your other prompt is on the way I just hated what I wrote for it and had to start fresh. Stand by and enjoy this little story that was inspired by a concept @singswan-springswan brought up like a year ago and it never really left my head:

“You sacrificed yourself.” The beast’s voice is surprisingly human, and Lucy wondered what he looked like without shadows shrouding his features. “Why?”

“Nolan’s my friend,” Lucy told him, breathing deeply. Trying to ease her pounding heart. “And he has a son, and the woman he’s courting— she’s lost enough already.”

“So you volunteered to face the monster for him.”

“Well, I’m part of the guard, too.” Lucy took another deep breath, memories flickering through her head— hot sun, sand underfoot. The last moment before the barrel was latched shut and she was completely, totally trapped. “Besides, I’ve faced monsters before. You’re actually kind of tame in comparison.”

“Is that so?” Either Lucy was crazy, or the beast actually sounded… amused? What did I get myself into?

~~~

It was her. Even if he hadn’t had the memory of her dark wavy hair imprinted in his brain, he recognized her scent. The flowery perfume with a hint of vanilla, the same sword oil that he’d used when he was part of the guard a long, long time ago. And fear, but not as strong as when he’d found her in that barrel.

That had been the craziest thing he’d ever done. He’d known the consequences if he’d been caught by the villagers and the guardsmen hunting for her. But she’d been right there. He’d seen the ring she left behind as a sign, and smelled both her scent and the scent of her kidnapper.

He couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. Not even when he was under a curse.

So he’d dug, bloodying and breaking his claws, and he’d pulled her out. Brought her back, stayed with her, and when he finally heard people approaching, ran for it.

It was only afterwards that he realized he still had the ring— moonstone in a silver band. He wondered if he should give it back to her.

Right now, he had bigger issues. “You’re a member of the guard,” he said, studying her intently. “Does that mean you’re here to kill me? I know there are plenty who’d like to, if they believed I existed.”

“No,” she said, and he believed her. “I’m here to pay Nolan’s debt, not fight. As long as you aren’t planning to eat me.”

She was brave— cocky, almost, saying that without a quiver in her voice. He almost grinned. “I don’t eat humans.”

“Then I won’t try to kill you.”

“Good enough.”

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 7

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: The universe continues to teach you and Eddie some important lessons. Tensions rise when the world becomes aware of the rockstar’s girl. And top it all off, you and Eddie are forced to make an important decision regarding your relationship.

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: It’s been a tough ass road, but I’m back. I’ve experienced challenges with the last two parts of my story being deleted and having to start over, my mental health’s hung by a fucking thread, I’ve been anxious to post because I feel like my work’s not good enough but ya know what I love writing and it keeps me happy! The series is coming to an end. Just one more part (tried making this the last one but the ending’s too damn long). I cannot wait to finish this because I’ve had so many fic ideas I’ve been meaning to share. I wanna complete requests and ask for some of yall ideas or whatever. I just want to have some fun with this. Any this chapter’s filled with slight rom com elements and tropes. It’s definitely a healing experience for both reader and Eddie. Especially Eddie. It’s a wild ride so please enjoy! Also Happy New Years! 🥳

>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 7 of 8

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: overload of fluff and 🌽, heavy flirting, idiots in love, airplane jokes, some angst, brief blood and violence, talks of negligent parents and juvenile detention, hinted abuse of a minor character, smutty smut, kissing/making out, fingering, squirting, handjob, light dirty talk, nipple play, mile high club activities, graphic language, Eddie loves drinking his respect women juice

2 years ago…

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re the band your parents wished you never listened to! 2, 3, 4!” Eddie shouts into the mic, counting in time to Gareth’s drumstick taps. The drums to Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” are the first to make its noise before the familiar guitar riff picks up after it.

Then, he sings and the crowd’s loving it.

The former nightclub bartender and now manager of Corroded Coffin, Eugene Neds, spotted great potential in the enigma that was Eddie Munson that night. In a band of 19-year-olds passing off as 21 to perform at a venue much too risqué for kids their age, the man only had eyes for the lead guitarist/singer. Eddie was going to be a star, he was sure of it. Eugene just needed to make sure that he would be the one to make it happen.

The music cuts abruptly. “Hey, asshole! Leave her the fuck alone, alright.” Eddie shouts on the mic, pointing over at the bar. The spotlight lands on the inebriated giant of a man towering over a visibly uncomfortable woman.

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?” The large man slurs.

“I’m not so sure it’s your business either, man. She wants absolutely nothing to do with you.” Eddie hops off stage, approaching the man as if he were David in Goliath’s presence.

At that moment, Eddie realized he was tired of running, tired of bullies, and tired of being picked on for being different. Those days have been laid to rest along with all his grievances of high school. The man had since gained the grit needed to face danger head on. It was the day he reclaimed the title, ‘The Freak’.

“You looking for a fight, little guy?” The large man attempts to intimidate, towering over him.

“Well, if you won’t leave her alone…then yes…I am looking for a fight.” Eddie stares daggers up at the man.

Not a second longer, the man’s fist connects with Eddie’s jaw, sending him back against a table with a few glasses being knocked over. Eddie’s wild hair covers over his face. He swipes a thumb over his lips. Blood. Blood that was now seeping from his mouth. The room is quiet, not a peep. But then the sound of laughter. It was manic. Wicked. And craziest of all, it wasn’t coming from the man who’d thrown the first punch.

It was the enigma himself.

So this was what it felt like to be punched? To taste blood? To stand up and fight instead of running? To laugh in the face of danger. And it felt so good.

The metalhead looks up at the giant man. His teeth, bloodied red. A terrifying smile of nightmares. He stands planted on his two feet again.

“You want some more, freak?” The large man says, swinging a fist in the air once again only this time Eddie swiftly ducks out the way. He surges forward at the large man, full speed, sliding from under him so that he is now right behind the man.

Eddie quickly climbs on top of the bar table. “You’re not so big from where I’m standing,” He quips then points at the liquor hose in the bartender’s hands. “Hey, could I borrow that?”

The bartender hands it over. Holding the nozzle over the giant man’s head, Eddie's famous smirk is the only warning. The man could barely register what was going on before the trigger’s pulled, beer spraying and trickling down his head.

The large man was now wet and red with anger. Eddie makes no haste with his next move, spatting blood in the bully’s face and uppercutting him with a kick to his chin. The large man goes down with a loud thud. The room is in an uproar of applause and thus the beer dumping incident became a fan favorite legend. To this day, fans of Corroded Coffin pay homage at concerts, dumping cans of beer on their heads.

The band was soon tossed out of the venue that night and although Eddie’s friends had sung their praises, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty having ruined their biggest gig.

Then, he was approached by that very bartender on his way back to his van. The one who’d soon change the trajectory of his life. The one that promised a life of glitters and gold. Eugene Neds had sold Eddie a dream. A dream that was disguised as a lending hand to the young man.

“I can make Corroded Coffin a household name.” He says, holding out a business card.

A former manager of countless failed bands, Eugene was convinced he’d finally found the kind of talent that would free him of the depressing bore of a penniless 9 to 5. Eddie Munson would be his project. His success story of taking a teenage dirtbag with the attitude and skills and molding him into a sex symbol. Thus creating ‘Francis The Freak’.

But then… YOU came along. The rockstar’s undoing. You were tearing down the walls that were so perfectly built.

Mr. Neds calls it: You’ll be the end of Eddie and his band. The only form of control Mr. Neds has now would be keeping your relationship with Eddie under wraps. He’ll be patient, though. He knows this couldn’t possibly last between you two. Certainly, you were just another pair of legs that captured his short attention span until he eventually got bored.

Mr. Neds snaps out of his thoughts at the sounds of your giggling, eyes looking at the rearview mirror from his seat on the tour bus. You and Eddie were cozied up in the back, him showing you some scars.

“So, that explains the NPC-like behavior of your fans dumping beers on their heads or asking you to spit on them,” You deduce. “I’m glad to be in the know. This’ll be great tying that into my last article.”

“Did you really say NPC? As in Non-Player Character? You little nerd, am I rubbing off on you?” Eddie teases, poking your tummy.

“Hey, I know things.” You laugh, poking him back. “But you shouldn’t solve everything with fists. I’ve never known you to be a fighter.”

“I’m a lover, but I’m no pacifist.”

“You, a lover?”

“Mhm, want me to demonstrate?” His mouth attacks your neck, you squeal in delight.

So lost in each other, you couldn’t have noticed the manager’s demands to the driver to halt the bus. He had grown more and more frustrated at the sight of you and Eddie being so close. He decidedly gets out of his seat, walking down the aisle past the bandmates who could immediately sense something about to go down but all they could do was follow with their eyes as the manager made his way over to you.

“Y/n, Eddie…I’ll need you to test a theory for me. Stand beside one another.” The manager demands, breaking your moment together.

“What’s your point?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes.

“We need to make sure that you both won’t look so ‘friendly’ with one another,” The manager explains. “The media are bloodhounds. One whiff of the hormones circulating between you would send them into a frenzy and next thing ya know you’re on the cover of yet another magazine.”

“Are you suggesting that the chemistry between us is so intense that remotely standing beside each other would give us away?” You ask, incredulously.

“Precisely.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘delusional’?” You question rhetorically, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Not delusional. Perceptive.”

“You weren’t very ‘perceptive’ when Eddie and I got together.” You smirk.

“I’ve suspected. I just chose to ignore it. It only became too difficult to deny when the two of you became sloppy with it.” Mr. Neds scoffs.

“We can totally stand beside each other without being ‘friendly’.” Eddie defends.

“Oh, is that so?” Mr. Neds asks, mockingly. “Because right now, right before my eyes, I see you and Eddie sat extremely close on this loveseat with his hand caressing your thigh…and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at the hand that graced your supple skin lovingly. The two of you jump apart as if burned by the other.

“See what I mean,” Mr. Neds lets out a dry laugh. “Now please stand. Both of you.”

“Fine.” You and Eddie mutter in unison.

Standing up at once, your arms knock against each other’s. Your eyes trained at the contact and how close in proximity you both were. You blush, eyes on him. He notices your flustered state, smirking down at you.

“Jesus Christ.” Mr. Neds rubs at his temple, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, they’ve got it bad.” Mel says as he walks in biting nonchalantly into an apple.

“It’s worse than I thought,” The manager groans. “You’re like magnets! You’ll need to stand at least 7 feet apart.”

“7 feet?! How the hell am I supposed to interview and complete my article from 7 feet away?” You argue.

“Anything is possible.” Mr. Neds answers.

“You’re being a real pain in the ass, Eugene.” Eddie says to the 40-something man.

“Welcome to my world,” He retorts. “If 7 feet’s such a big deal then I’ll be reasonable. 5 feet. No more negotiations.”

“This is so stupid.” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t be so upset, brother. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder or some bullshit like that. It could actually be quite romantic.” Mel chimes in.

“Mel…get the hell outta here.” Eddie and Mr. Neds sneers together.

Mel exits, a middle finger up in the air while the other brings the apple to his lips.

“Now if we’re going to work together and keep the peace,” The manager begins. “We need to do this my way. No, ‘ands’, ‘ifs’, or ‘buts’ about it. We’ll be at the airport to catch a plane to New York soon so—.”

“Whoa,” Eddie interrupts. “I thought we were going back home?”

“Well, I’ve booked a performance for Corroded Coffin to attend. It was an offer that I couldn’t refuse. A Holiday Parade! And it won’t just be televised in Hawkins like you’re used to. It’ll be all over America. No worries about rehearsals either. Just do everything exactly how you did at Mantra•esque. Ever since that performance, word’s been traveling about the new hot band in town. You’ll have an interview with the hosts of the parade right after so please be on your best behavior.”

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” Eddie’s voice raises.

“Well, you would’ve heard about it along with the boys if you hadn’t snuck out last night.”

“I have even caught my breath yet, man.”

“You had countless nights to rest. You spent them sneaking around with your…girlfriend. Eddie, I only ever want what’s best for you. If I hadn’t discovered you, where do you think you would’ve been?” Mr. Neds rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. A visual much akin to that of a demon resting on gullible shoulders, pleading for their victim to sign away his rights. “You would have still been living in that shitty trailer park while your uncle picked up 12 and 16 hour shifts just to keep a roof over your heads. Remember, you’re not doing this for yourself. This is survival. You understand I only mean well…do you?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches, a quick nod.

“I knew you would. It’s nothing personal, kid. It’s just what they call ‘business as usual’. It’ll only be for a few more days and then you could enjoy all the time you need in Hawkins before the next tour.” The manager pats his back before making his way back up front to inform the driver to get back on track.

Sitting back on the little loveseat, you climb into Eddie’s lap while your arms wrapped around his neck for a hug. “He shouldn’t be allowed to speak to you that way.”

“He’s right, though.” Eddie huffs, caressing your back.

You felt yourself becoming angry for him, pulling away to look him in the eye. “He’s wrong. With or without him, you could do anything. Anyone could’ve seen that light in you. I have. You’ve got something special and no fucking manager could take that away from you, okay.”

Eddie’s stoic expression softens into a warm smile. “Look at you being all protective. Making you my girlfriend’s made you all soft.” He chuckles.

“No one messes with my man,” You shrugged with a smile. “He talks to you like that again and I’ll knock him down a peg or two.”

“That’s very cute,” He kisses the space between your eyebrows. “But you don’t have to defend me, ya know. I’m a big boy.”

“What? You think I couldn’t do it or something?” You ball your fists into your sides.

“Oh, no. My hesitancy is more concerned with how badly you’ll hurt his ego. I still need the man to be able to stand on his two feet if he’s getting this band going.” Eddie jokes.

“But…i-is that what you want? To keep this going?” You asked, twiddling with your thumbs.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“What about taking a break? You’re going to perform in New York then you’ve got Europe in a week or so. It just seems like a lot.”

“It does seem like a lot. But if I have you beside me, it wouldn’t be so bad,” He catches himself. “In New York, I mean.”

Eddie made sure to include that last part not wanting the inevitable conversation to be brought up. Eventually, it will. As you’ve mentioned, the tour for Europe is approaching. The next time you’ll see each other again wouldn’t probably be for another 6 months. Maybe more. But what really affected him was the idea that you wouldn't think to consider going on tour with him. Especially since a little before bed last night, Eddie had asked you a question that tested everything between you two and all you could do was ignore it and say your goodnight.

“You want me to go to New York with you?” You asked.

He shrugs, shyly. “Well, yeah. I thought it was obvious. You’re fine to say ‘no’.” That response was meant for both situations: New York and Europe.

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go with you…” Eddie’s eyes lit up until you finished the last part of your sentence. “…to New York.”

“Y-yeah,” He clears his throat then echoes. “To New York.”

————

It was greatly in your favor that Eddie’s manager had decided to keep up with his “5 feet apart” rule, sitting you in separate seats across the aisle from one another. Why? Because you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about “the inevitable conversation”. Eventually…you’ll give your answer. Just not now. Not when things are going so well between you two.

You bury your head in your journal not exactly writing anything of importance, simply scribbling away to keep yourself from wondering if he was looking at you. But curiosity gets the best of you, so you peek up from your journal and catch Eddie’s eyes on you, too. You both look away at once, you resume your doodling nervously.

When you went to look over your shoulder this time, Eddie made a face silly enough to make you giggle and roll your eyes. He points at the journal in your hand, gesturing you to slide it over. You check your surroundings to make sure no one’s looking before doing so.

You waited as he proceeded to write something down. Then, he turned the journal to face you. In big letters: “Hi.”

You smile, waving and mouthing a “Hi” back.

He writes something down again and turns it over to face you. “Writing you here so Neds doesn’t try to listen in.”

You nod to confirm that you understand.

He writes. “What were you writing about?”

He could’ve turned the page to see exactly that but he didn’t wish to invade your privacy. You do the honors. Turning the page to which you scribbled different drawing variations of his name. You’re a little embarrassed to show him that he’s all you’ve been thinking about. But then he smiles eager to show you what he’d been reading.

He holds up his book, opening it to the page where his thumb held it open and reveals a polaroid photo of you looking up at him and him, down at you on the Manta•esque stage. This was his way of letting you know he’s thinking about you, too.

You smiled, writing him back. “How’d you get that?”

“Junie.”

“The camera guy?”

“Yep. Begged him to take at least one picture of you for me. It’s my favorite. I was going to share it with you but, selfishly, I want to keep it for myself.”

Is this really the same guy I met in that dressing room some weeks ago?

“Lovely view we have up here.” He writes.

You shoot him deadpan stare, not amused by the airplane joke. He tugs at the collar of his shirt in feigned nervousness before gesturing for the journal again. He writes. “Okay, I can see how that aviation joke went over your head.”

Still unamused. You wrote back. “I really appreciate corny jokes but these are just painfully bad.”

“Are you saying my jokes didn’t…land?”

“Please stop. If you’re going to tell airplane jokes, at least tell the Wright ones.”

Now he’s the one to look at you unamused and confused.

You scribbled quickly to explain yourself. “Get it? Wright. Like the Wright brothers. The first ones to fly an airplane?”

“Sorry, but your knowledge of world history is lost on me. I failed that class miserably.”

“I guess you can say it went over your head.”

“You can’t just repeat my joke. Joke stealing’s no laughing matter.”

Okay, that tickled you a bit. Smiling to yourself, you hadn’t realized Eddie passing you the notebook once again, until you felt the pages brush your arm.

“Think you can meet me in the restroom in 5?”

You scoff out loud. “I hope you're not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”

“I wanna talk.” He simply writes.

How could three words be so frightening? So ominous? Your heart pounds hard, daring to jump out of your chest.

“Are we not talking now? What would you need to talk about that can’t be said here?”

You anticipated his reply. Leaning over your seat, trying to peek but more so averting your eyes. You mindlessly picked at the skin around your fingernails, nerves getting the best of you.

With a solemn face, he holds out the journal to you. You meet his eyes then down at his hands, hesitating to reach for the book. The regretful look on Eddie’s face gave away that he was second guessing what he’d written down. When your fingertips grazes it, it falls out of his hand with an audible slap to the ground.

The two of you scramble to reach for it, kneeling down. Your hands accidentally touch in the attempt to take the book for yourselves. Instead of pulling away, you both ceased your frantic movements. Eddie’s thumb caressing the palm of your hand. You focus on this action then look into his big brown eyes.

The bing of the attendant assistance button pulls you out of the trance. Taking the notebook, you stand on your two feet and hug it to your chest. With a stern nod of confirmation, you stride your way down the first class aisle towards the restroom.

You shut the door behind, back rested against it as you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Eyes closed, you peel the notebook away from you. Your hands are outstretched in front of you and when you were sure it was directly in your field of vision, you opened your eyes and read.

“Europe.”

So it began. The inevitable conversation. There’s rhythmic knock and you were sure it was him, stepping away from the door and facing it. He opens it enough to let him slide through before he closing it behind him quietly.

“Hi.” He breathes out.

“Hi.” You say in quick breath as if you were scared to breathe at all.

“I guess you read the note.”

You don’t say a word, nodding tentatively.

“Y/n, I—“

“Why’re you calling me that?” You interrupt.

“You mean…your first… name?” He says, eyes squinting in confusion.

“Yeah. You usually call me some stupid pet name. What are we on first name bases now?”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” His eyebrow raises.

“It’s grown on me.” Your face grows hot as you cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Besides, do you just call me those names simply because I don’t like it.”

“At first, yeah. But I do it now because I like you.”

Your face grows even hotter, hoping he doesn’t see the effect he has on you right now. You should be upset, girl! “So, what gives? Why aren’t you calling me a vixen or a babe or whatever the fuck?”

“I just figured it’d be more appropriate for what I’ve got to say,” He explains before taking a deep breath. “I’d like to---”

You couldn’t bring yourself to hear much more of it. Okay. So he wants to talk about the tour in Europe? What exactly does he want from you? You couldn’t possibly give him an answer he’d be happy to hear.

“I’m sorry,” You cut him off again. “I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget. To pretend that there was no tour so that I can enjoy being in the present, being with you. But now I know that sometimes…it’s okay to face the inevitable. So…I think I’m ready now.”

“You’re ready?” He says, eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit environment.

“Yes,” You confirmed, lowering your head to keep him from seeing your tears. “I know what you’re going to say. And you’re right. We should break up and—”

“What the hell are you talking about? I never mentioned breaking up. I hadn’t mentioned much at all since you kept interrupting.”

“You didn’t need to mention it. The signs are all there.”

“Really? Because I’m trying to see them for myself. They must be—I don’t know—invisible. Nonexistent.”

“You can’t possibly think I can just throw my career away to be some groupie for you.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t go on that tour with you, Eddie. I have my dream and you have yours. I can’t put my work on the line when I’ve gotten this far.”

“So long distance not a thing?”

“I couldn’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. You’re gonna be a star. You’ll meet plenty of women who’d want you. I don’t want to hold you back. I just won’t do it. You deserve to be free to be with whoever you want.”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Y/n,” He towers over you. “You have no right to make these decisions for me. That’s for me to decide. I’m tired of people telling me what to do, how to feel, what to think. I may not be the brightest but I’m not stupid. What about what I want?”

“What do you want?!”

“You, woman! I want you!”

“If you want me because you think I’ll be this doting girlfriend of your dreams who’s at your side at all times, who ‘sits down and shuts up’, constantly obeying your wishes; I am not that kind of girl.”

“Okay.” He shrugs, demeanor cool and collected.

“Okay? As in…”

“Okay, as in ‘I’m not asking you to be the girl of my dreams’. You already are, goddamn it. As stubborn, self-righteous and bitchy as you can be, I admire every part of you. Good or bad. I want you to have control over your own decisions and be unfiltered as you are. But sometimes, you do need to learn when to shut the hell up and listen to what I’m trying to tell you.”

You began to seethe at his words, opening your mouth to protest only for him to put his palm over it. He shushes you, his free hand putting a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna remove my hand now. You’ll be quiet, right?” He searches your glass-like eyes. You nod slowly, your stare holding sincerity.

“Good girl,” He praises, pulling his hand away. He straightens his composure as if to prepare himself for his own news. “I won’t be going on tour. I’ll follow you.”

Now you’re shaking your head at him. “No. You couldn’t. This is your chance!”

“There’ll be plenty of tours in the future. We can have time for each other until then. Get to know each other well enough so that you’ll start to believe me when I say there’s no one else I’d want besides you.”

Your eyes, the size of saucers. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! I would never ask you to do something like that.”

“That’s the thing. It’s my choice. I’m practicing this thing called ‘autonomy’. It’s quite refreshing actually.”

“It’s stupid!”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“It’s 100% fact,” You notice him approaching you slowly and closely. He’s got that devilish grin playing on his lips. “Stay away from me. 5 feet apart, remember?”

You place a hand on his chest, stopping any attempt for him to move further. He looks down at your shaky hand. He knows it’s futile, so he laughs. “We followin’ rules now?”

“I said, stay the fuck away, Munson.” You squeaked.

“That doesn’t sound very confident,” He chuckles darkly. “You sure you want me to stay away?”

You let out a shaky breath. He bites his lip. This shouldn’t excite him as much as it did, but he was HARD. And it didn’t help that the turbulence brought his attention to your full breasts bouncing temptingly in his gaze. Even covered by your scantily clad tank top, it was see-through enough to leave little to the imagination. He grasps your wrist, pulling your hand off his chest to hold.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons. You hate to admit it, but you were turned on, too. The wetness pooling in your underwear was undeniable.

“I think you like it when I’m this close,” He lets go of your wrist, testing the waters and taking another step. This time you don’t stop him. “I’m sure you remember the way I make you feel when my hand is between your legs.”

“Eddie…” You pleaded.

“You know what else I think, you wanted me to follow you the whole time. Is that why you ask if I wanted to keep the tour going? Why you’ve made me wait hand and foot for an answer? So, you can break me.”

“Not true.” You whimpered.

“Then, you manipulate me into thinking I’m breaking up with you,” He laughs incredulously. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, little vixen. I thought you were better than that,” His fingers coil around your neck tight, but not tight enough to cut off any air circulation. “But you couldn’t get rid of me that easily. Even if you were to leave me right now, you wouldn’t be able to forget me. You’d still feel me here.”

He cups your mound and your mouth drops, knowing that your cover was blown. You were sure that he’d feel you soaking your underwear. It was a blessing and a curse that you decided to wear a skirt today.

“We shouldn’t.” You gasped as he squeezed you down there enough to feel his rings digging into your cotton panties.

Oh yes, we should!

His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear. “You’ve broken me, kitten. Now’s my turn to break you.”

“Let me go.” You whispered weakly.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” He says, tone rich and deep. “There is no letting you go. You’d think I’d ever let another man touch you like this.”

He rolls a thumb over your nipple, perked up for him to tend to. A small moan escapes your lips, causing you to bite them in an attempt to cease any more sounds.

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone else hearing those pretty sounds eaving your lips,” With the hand still cupping your face, he swipes his thumb over your full lips and caresses the slightly-healed scar. “Couldn’t even bring myself to use your moans in my songs cause they’re meant for my ears only.”

“How do you think I feel? I get nauseous just imagining you with another girl,” You admit, eyes staring up in hopeless surrender to him. You grow as intensely possessive as him. Your bodies are so close, chests flushed together. Nails digging into his shoulders, you lay a desperate kiss on his lips that makes him feral. “I’m not usually the jealous type but I want you all to myself.”

“You have me.” He whispers, biting down on your soft bottom lip as he cups your butt and guides you to straddle his thigh. Slipping your panties to the side, he presses his thigh into your now exposed core. You knew exactly what he wanted, grinding against the fabric of his jeans. The rough material of the denim against your clit was a delicious surprise to you.

Eddie slips his tongue into your mouth and you immediately suck on the appendage. It felt like you were so in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Your moans into the kiss competing with one another.

You loved when you got to hear the effect you had on him even without him being inside you. Your hands travel down to the dip in his back, pulling him closer (if it were even possible to be closer than you already were).

You ride his thigh, foreheads against one another and eyes locked. Noticing the erection straining against his jeans, you palm and squeeze it. He thrusts into your hand, pursuing further contact. The two of you work to unbutton his jeans, lowering the zipper until the pants loosened enough. Spitting into your hands, you dip it past the spandex of his boxers and free him of his restraints. You jerk him in your hands at the same tempo you moved your hips against him.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” You pant. “Wanna be the only one.”

“I don’t want anyone else hearing how amazing you look you cum,” Removing his thigh away from between your legs, he shoves two thick fingers into you. You gasp which then melds into a moan at the feeling of being stretched so suddenly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head until Eddie snaps you out of it, gripping your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Eyes on me, little vixen.”

The feeling of his fingers, which were perfectly long enough to hit depths that even your own fingers couldn’t reach, drove you into a level of high you were scared to reach for. You tug his cock harder, faster in your hand and feel the precum coat your fingers with added lubrication.

Your stares grew intensely along with the sounds of your heavy breathing. You were getting lightheaded, knowing that the end was soon approaching.

“Want you inside me.” You begged, not caring enough that you were in an airplane restroom.

“Unh…fuck…not here,” He grunts. “Next time I fuck you will be at my place, in my bed so my sheets could smell like you.”

He wiggles a finger in you, teasing the sensitive trigger. His fingers are shot out of you and you’re squirting before you could even recognize that you’ve come.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” You squeal, vision going white. You convulse under him, hearing him groan and the familiar sticky feeling of his essence running in your hands.

You both cling onto each other moments after, his head to your chest feeling your heart beating erratically. When Eddie finally peels off of you, your body grows cold mourning the loss of his warmth. He cleans the two of you up, taking his time, cleaning between your legs and running a wet paper towel on the palms of your coated hands. He wordlessly watches your eyes tracking his hands, before placing a kiss to your now spotless fingers.

“You ready to go out there?” He asks.

“Could we walk out together?” You curl an arm around his, batting your lashes. You know it’s a risky thing to ask.

“Sure, babe.” A big warm smile plastered on his face.

When he feels as if you���re ready, he gives you a reassuring look before unlocking the door and stepping out. Undeniably, you were sure there would be eyes on you. So, releasing a breath, you walk down the aisle hand in hand with your heads high, ignoring the hushed whispers between passengers.

As the two of you approach the section where Corroded Coffin‘s seated, Mr. Neds looks back furiously in contrast to your blissed out states.

Instead of sitting in his “assigned” seat, Eddie sits beside you, putting an arm around you and smirking at the manager.

“Something wrong…Eugene?” Eddie mocks.

“Really? In the restroom? Are you forgetting we have 15 other passengers with us in a section small enough to hear someone’s heartbeat?” He replies through gritted teeth.

“She was quiet enough. As much as she could, anyway.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“I’ll enjoy myself, too, someday. Currently, I’m thinking of how great that tour in Europe will be for you. It's a shame Y/n’s decided she won’t be joining us, though.” Mr.Neds says sarcastically.

“Don’t be surprised if that tour has no effect on me whatsoever. Almost like I’m not there.” Eddie retorts.

The two of them exchanged heated glares at one another. You sigh, sinking down in your seat.

————

It took longer than expected to arrive due to the weather conditions. A day and some hours and about 2 plane transfers to be concise. By the time you’d touchdown, it was practically evening but you couldn’t wait to get off the plane. You’ve never been to New York but you and Chrissy have talked about one day moving there together to make names for yourselves.

Despite Eddie clearly being exhausted from all the performances and trips, your joy rubbed off on him and soon he was just as determined to explore the big city as you.

Entering the terminal, you rush up to the big glass windows to stare out at the bustling streets. It’s really cold but no snowfall just yet.

You felt Eddie’s body pressed up against you, shivering enough to make you shake along with him.

“You okay, Eds?”

“Not really. I’m not dressed for this kind of weather. Guess fashionably torn shirts and tight jeans just aren't enough.My only saving grace is my leather jacket.”

You felt more bodies lean into you for warmth. The boys in the band huddling for warmth since you're the only one sporting a faux fleece coat.

“Hey! She’s off limits.” Eddie growls.

“Aw, come on, bruv. I’m practically naked in this top.” Judas says, pressing hard into your shoulder.

“Yeah, sharing’s caring.” Mel chimes in.

“If there’s anything you fuckers should know about me is that I don’t like sharing.” Eddie says pulling you into his body only for the men to follow after.

“Can’t we all just go shopping and get you all some decent clothing? Not rockstar-related?” You say, voice strained from being crushed between them.

“Being a star means sacrificing comfort for style.” Mr. Neds answers.

“That isn’t fair,” You protest. “You wouldn’t want them catching colds before their performances, would you? They need warm clothes.”

Mr. Neds stares you down then up at the boys who defensively reciprocated hostile stares at him.

“Fine. The new tour bus is awaiting us outside. We need to board it quickly or else—“

“Oh my god! It’s Corroded Coffin!” A voice rings through the terminal and soon all eyes around the terminal land on your group. There’s a beat of silence before screams and heavy thuds of feet fill the air. The fans sprint determinedly towards you.

Security immediately pushes you all outside of the terminal, blocking an entrance. The doors of another unmanned entrance burst open as floods of people come crashing through, running towards the tour bus.

You were paralyzed, shocked by the amount of people rushing over until you felt a hand take yours and tug you inside the bus. Another group of bodyguards standing between the doors to keep the crowd from hopping on top of the large vehicle. As best as they could the 4 bodyguards shoo away the crowd before hopping in and the driver quickly pulls off. Everyone on the bus, panting from the exertion of escaping.

“Look at that! Just a small town band, now your name’s being heard in even more places. Told you I’d make Corroded Coffin a household name.” Mr. Neds says proudly.

You exchanged a look with Eddie, who groaned at the manager’s lack of awareness. With stardom came lack of privacy. You felt a foreboding feeling that somehow your privacy would be compromised as well.

—————

“What do you think of this?” Eddie steps out of the dressing room, a man disguised. His outfit consisted of some light gray sweatpants, white kicks, and a basic white long sleeve shirt under his leather jacket. To top it off, his signature wilf curls had been stuffed into his black skully hat for better effect.

“You look great but wouldn’t you want to dress in coordination with your band?” You inquire.

Eddie’s bandmates had done the opposite of dressing casually. Going for the flashiest, expensive clothing.

“Nah, they’ll just end up getting us chased again,” Eddie laughs before looking over his shoulders then whispering. “I’m thinking we ditch ‘em.”

“Eddie…” You began but then suddenly you felt like you were in the mood for an adventure. “Know what…I’m ready for anything. What’d you have in mind?”

He’s taken aback. “The good girl’s looking for trouble?”

“I don’t have to look far. You’re the embodiment of it.” You tease.

“Correct as always, my dear.” He says in a silly posh accent, taking your hand and guiding you to sneak past the guards.

Then, you hear the sound of Eddie’s manager yelling from behind you. “Stop those two!”

You turn to your boyfriend, eyes wide. “Run.”

Next thing you knew, you’re both gunning it out the shopping mall, the bodyguards close behind.

To anyone on the outside, you were simply a rowdy couple caught doing something bad enough to be chased by men in black. After a couple twists and turns around the corner and a few “watch where ya goings”, Eddie leads you down the stairs of a subway station. You were sure you’d lost them until you saw them treading down the stairs a few seconds after.

Eddie pulls out a subway card from his pocket.

“Where’d you get that?” You questioned, panting as you ran.

“I swiped it off one of the guards,” Eddie laughs, also panting. “My dad was a pro pickpocketer.”

“We’ll need to unpack that sometime.”

Swiping the card in the machine, Eddie pushes through the turnstiles but when he swipes the card for your entrance, an error message shows up explaining that you have to wait at least 3 minutes for the next swipe. After a couple tries of the turnstiles not budging, you look over your shoulder and notice the guards closing in.

“What do I do?” You panic.

“Jump over!” He holds out his arms.

Grabbing either side of the gate, you hop over the turnstiles and into his arms just as the men reached you. The two of you resume running, this time having some distance from the guards.

As if your prayers had been answered, a train makes its stop at your station. Rushing in, you and Eddie gloat at the approaching bodyguards as the doors shut and the train pulls away. Clinging to the hand rail above you, you both pant in exhaustion which quickly morphed into laughter.

“You’re a bad influence.” You tease, hitting his shoulder lightly.

“You love it.” He retorts.

The words “you” and “love” in the same sentence. It is so strange that you hung onto them at this moment like they had any meaning outside of its context. But what would it be like to hear those words in a different arrangement? One where it felt more of a confession rather than a dismissive play on words.

Your hand slips caused by the jutting train, sending you out of your thoughts and straight into Eddie’s free arm.

“Geez, kitten. If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just asked,” He jokes. “You don’t have to throw yourself at me.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze tight, cheeks squished against his chest. “I could use one.”

He melts into your embrace with an arm around you while the other keeps you both planted to the ground. It doesn’t matter to him that you were in a crowded train where anyone could spot you together because Eddie felt like he'd taken a trip in a time machine.

He’s like a teenager all over again. Sneaking around and running from the trouble he’s caused, but most of all, he felt this way being with you. Maybe he didn’t get that chance to impress you back then… but he has you now.

So lost in you, he hadn’t registered the light tap on his shoulder until accompanied by a said, “Munson?” From a familiar voice. Eddie turns around and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Emerson?”

“Holy shit! It is you! Almost didn't recognize you with the hat,” A more mature Gareth stood in your presence. The two boys go in for a bear hug while talking over each other in their excitement. “You look great!”

“Can’t say the same for you, man. You look like shit.” Eddie laughs.

“Fuck off,” Gareth laughs. “I just got off my shift. What are you doing in New York?”

“I should be asking you the same. Hadn’t heard from you or Jeff in 2 years.”

“We moved to New York. They say it’s where everyone’s making a name for themselves.”

“You guys still make music?”

“Hell yeah, we do,” Gareth nods. “Ya know ever since, the band got separated. We knew we couldn’t stop rocking. You wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Good to hear that, bro.”

“And what about you? What’s gotcha in the big city? Tour, maybe.”

“Not exactly a tour. Just a performance and an interview.”

“Aw shit, man. That’s wicked as hell. Rockstar life’s been treating you good it seems. I bet you get tons of chicks,” Gareth says excitedly, ignorant to Eddie’s panicking glare. “How many girls have you—“

He’s interrupted by you clearing your throat stepping out from behind Eddie. “Hello, Emerson.”

He gasps, pointing between the two of you. “Y/n…Eddie…you two are together?”

“Yep, she’s my girl.” Eddie curls an arm around your waist.

“Wow, I’m honestly surprised considering your first article on him. But Eddie did always have a little thing for you back in high school. I’m sure he made it his mission to win you over.”

“S-shut up, dickhead.” Eddie stutters, blushing.

“You read my article?” You ask, a smile creeping up on your lips.

“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s talking about it especially since Corroded Coffin’s performance at Mantra•esque. If ever I need exposure, I’m calling you for an article on mu band. Speaking of which,” Gareth searches through his jeans pocket, pulling out a flier. “You guys should stop by at this Battle of the Bands event tonight at 10. That’s in a couple hours from now so you won’t have to go back and forth until then. It’s at this cool ass venue they call a ‘speakeasy’ in Koreatown. You’ve gotta have a password and everything to get in that shit. Jeff and I will be performing along with our new guitarist, Brody. You’ll dig him. He’s chill.”

You look in the corner of your eye, feeling Eddie tense beside you at the mention of the new member.

“Our band’s called ‘TSNP’,” Gareth continues. “Thou Shall Not Pass. Will you be there, Eds?”

“I…could try. It’s just that I’ll be busy with rehearsals. So, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it, man.” Eddie lies.

“Oh…right. Well, that sucks,” A hint of disappointment in his tone. “Jeff would’ve been super stoked to see you. Sid, too. But I understand you're a big rockstar now.”

There’s silence between them. You shake your head at the men too prideful in expressing their true feelings despite supposedly being best friends.

The rest of the trip remained this way until the train halts to a stop at another station. When the doors open, Gareth makes his way over to them, stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel to look over at his friend one last time.

“When you left, we stopped making music for a while. Just didn’t feel the same. Then, I heard your song on the radio and it brought me back. It would’ve been really great if you had some time to see us play,” Gareth scans Eddie’s features and when he doesn’t get a reaction from him, he sighs. “Have a good night.” Sending you a small wave, he steps out and train’s moving forward again.

You turn to look at Eddie, arms crossed and disappointed. ”There are no rehearsals. It’s not fair to lie to him like that nor is it fair for you not to come and support. They’re your best friends. You have your band, why can’t they?”

“It’s not like I’m the one who chose to replace ‘em.”

“I know. But it’s okay to admit when something hurts,” You give him a small smile to lighten the mood. “I’m sure it hurt them having to make the decision to replace you just as much as it hurt you performing on a big stage without them. They’re chasing their dreams, too. It doesn’t mean they don’t want you to be a part of it. He did invite you, didn’t he? It’s like he said you’re the reason he was brought back.”

“You’re right.” He sighs.

“Of course, I am. I’m always right,” You tease then solemnly say. “No one’s gonna take that bond you all share. Not unless you continue to push them away.”

He nods, not saying a word. Thinking things over until the train makes another abrupt stop. The two of you exit hand in hand into the unexplored territory.

————

You were a lot more appreciative of the quiet moments you and Eddie sometimes had to yourselves. Where you got bask in the intimacy of normalcy. Lately, ever since Corroded Coffin's popularity, it’s constantly felt as if there were people lurking in the shadows, waiting on your next move.

Although, you must say it’s hard basking in the glory with your boyfriend’s face plastered on billboards around the city.

“Your manager’s not entirely wrong,” You say, pointing at the billboard. “Look at you guys up there. You'll probably be as big as Kiss someday.”

“You flatter me…but no,” He pats your head. “They’re untouchable.”

“I mean it, though. You shook the world. I can’t imagine you wanting to leave it behind now. I thought you wanted this tour.”

“I know what you’re trying to do here and I appreciate you considering my career but I’ve got my priorities straight. It took some thinking—not much—but I didn’t need a lot of time to realize I’d rather be with you.”

You try to contain the butterflies fluttering within you. “Now who’s become soft?”

“Shut it,” He laughs, pulling you against him and planting a kiss on your lips then neck until you suddenly pull away. “Did I do something wrong?”

You take him by the shoulders, guiding him to do a 180 degree turn. “There’s Coney Island in the distance. Wanna go?”

“I’m up for it. But just so you know, I like scary rides.”

“Aw, you don’t have to concoct a scheme to get me to cling to you, baby. I like scary rides, too,” Hands clasped behind your back, you teasingly walk circles around him then ahead towards the direction of the bright lights competing with the starry sky. You look over your shoulder and say, “I’ll still hold onto you, though… you’d like.”

He dramatically fakes offense, resting a hand over his heart. “I’m insulted that you would think I’d stoop so low. When would I ever deny the chance for you to hold onto me?”

“Then, what’re you standing all the way back there for? Come here and let me hold you.” You shout from behind you. Something about today made you feel extremely flirtatious. Maybe it was for the reason that Eddie was incognito, allowing you the chance to unabashedly enjoy each other’s company.

Eddie’s eyes now trained on the sway of your hips. “Just a second. I’m enjoying my view.”

You giggle. He rushes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, rocking you side to side. Your cute little game of cat and mouse comes to an abrupt end when you both enter the theme park and are met with scattered patrons all over the park with their heads buried in a magazine…with your faces on them.

“No.” You say, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie voices his frustration, eyes squeezed shut.

“That bastard,” You say through gritted teeth. You would have said that it was your fault for posting the article regarding Cole’s scandal. But you hadn’t gotten the chance to publish it, yet. “He was going to post it regardless of whether I’d accept his terms.”

You spot a nearby telephone pole. “I’m calling him and giving him a piece of my goddamn mind,” You say, strutting towards the payphone when Eddie grips your arm. You sneer a “what” at him.

“It’s not worth it. He’ll just try to provoke you which’ll then provoke me.”

You groan, running your hands over your face. “What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do: accept it.”

“Should we leave?”

“No. We’ll enjoy our time here while we can because as soon as we go back. We face reality.” Eddie holds out his hand.

You take it, exhaling and proceeding forward. “Okay but as a heads up, I’m definitely going to take down that man.”

“By all means, crush him,” Your boyfriend encourages. “Now let’s make you forget.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

“Ferris Wheel, possibly. It’s the only ride without a giant line to wait in. We could talk…and other things.”

You snort. “What ‘things’ could you possibly do on a ferris wheel?”

He simply smirks, walking ahead of you this time. The boy is a menace.

You were considerably glad no one had recognized you from the magazine despite a good amount of park goers including the person operating the ferris wheel having the magazine in hand. After waiting in line patiently, it was your turn to board the ferris wheel car and take your seats.

“Some much needed alone time.” Eddie exhales his relief, both your heads thrown back against the wall of cart in exhaustion.

Not soon after exclaiming this, you both hear the sound of gum popping which causes you to raise your heads simultaneously. Seated in the chair across was a child, somewhere between the ages of 7-9, smacking away at her gum and kicking her feet.

“Hi!” She says, cheerfully.

“Hi, sweetie,” You return the greeting. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Beverly. Also Bev. I’m 8 years old! What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. That’s Eddie.” You point to Eddie who seemed uncomfortable.

“He looks scared. Are you scared of the ride, Eddie? It’s not scary. See?” Beverly gestures to herself seated.

“You okay, Eddie?” You asked, concerned.

He leans over, whispering to you as not for the little girl to hear. “It’s just…little kids freak me out, ya know. They always ask so many questions, forcing me to question my own existence.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take it from here,”You turned your attention back to the little girl. “Beverly, what are you doing here all alone? Where are your parents or guardians?”

“I wanted to ride the ferris wheel. Mommy said I couldn’t ride because it was bad. But I really wanted to.”

“Sweetie, it’s not okay to disobey your mother. Especially when she means well. She’s probably worried sick looking for you. I have an idea. Once this ride’s over, I’ll help you find her.”

“But she’ll be so angry.”

“Rightfully so, sweetie. But she’ll only be mad because she loves you.”

“So I can’t stay here?”

“You can’t run away from your problems. There’s a time where you’ve gotta face ‘em head on,” You were thinking maybe you should practice what you preach considering that running is exactly what you’ve been doing. “Tell ya what? I will have a talk with your mother to smoothen things over so she wouldn’t be too angry.”

“You promise?” She says, outstretching her arm and holding out her pinky.

“Promise.” You intertwine your pinky with hers.

“So when do you think we’ll get off this ride?” She asks.

“A few minutes or so.” You answered.

“Really? Even when it’s standing still.”

“Standing still?” Your eyes bugged out, looking over at Eddie who was just the same.

“Fuck! The Ferris Wheel’s stopped!” He exclaims.

“No swearing, Eds. Let’s not corrupt the kid.”

“Did you hear what I said?” He groans, standing up in the cart and walking back and forth.

“Yes! And could you please stop that? You’re wiggling the cart around.”

“I can’t help it. I hate confined spaces.”

“It’ll be okay,” You reassure him. “I’m sure it won’t be long before help.

The sound of a safety horn rings and then the click of a bullhorn. “Passengers, we’re experiencing some technical difficulties. Please allow 30 minutes for help to arrive and another 30 minutes to repair this issue. Please stay put and be safe. Thank you.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Eddie throws his hands up before sinking down to the floor, head in his hands.

You sit beside him. “I didn’t know you were claustrophobic.”

“I’m not but sometimes confined spaces remind me of a certain point in my life…Juvie.”

“You’ve been to juvie?” You asked.

“It’s okay not to be surprised,” He laughs. “But yeah, I have.”

“No, I really am surprised. I never considered it,” You assure. “If you don’t mind me asking…how’d it happen?”

“It’s because I wanted to be like my dad. Ya know, the pro pickpocketer. Well, that wasn’t all he taught me. I learned how to hotwire different vehicles, dismantle and rebuild cars, how to pickpocket, taught me the ins and outs of ‘get rich’ quick schemes, taught me how to deal drugs…the whole nine. I remember wanting to be just like him,” He says. “I never cared much when my mother wasn’t around because he was there. Maybe he wasn’t the best father figure or as present as a parent should be. But when he was there, life didn’t seem so bad. Then one day we’re having some beers on the porch—I was 12, by the way—talking shit and listening to greatest hits. The cops came to arrest me because witnesses saw me stealing parts from a car. Parts that my father begged me to steal because he was too high off his own shit to do it himself. In custody, my dad says, ‘Don’t you worry, buddy. I’ll get you outta there.’ I really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.” Eddie laughs dryly, shaking his head.

Then he continues. “That was the last I saw of him and he didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes and say he’s sorry. I was sentenced for 6 months. He never visited me and being in that cell, staring up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts; I realized it was the first time in my life I knew what it meant to be alone. I found out later he’d been arrested not even a month after my sentencing for serious drug charges. Lock up practically for good. Uncle Wayne took me in even when he hadn’t spoken with my dad in years. Hell, he didn't even know I existed until the guards called him looking for an immediate family member who'd be willing to take me in.”

Your heart broke at the sound of that. To know that he had such a rough childhood but he still managed to be Eddie was remarkable.

“I owe Wayne for everything I am now. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been a dirtbag just like my dad.”

“I’m so sorry.” You say, rubbing his back.

You weren’t sure the right words to say or if you should say anything at all. The little girl, Beverly, slides off her seat, sitting on the ground along with you. Her tiny backpack in front of her as she rummages through it, pulling out a tiny pink book then holds it out to Eddie.

You both look down at it. Eddie, hesitant but otherwise he takes it in his hands.

“My dad is in jail, too,” Beverly says. “Even though I miss him, I think he’s better there than when he’s with me and mommy. At home, he was mean and scary sometimes. Mommy says he’s better now. I think so, too. He calls me princess like he used to. Once he told me that if I'm ever sad or scared, do something I like. He likes to draw. Like me.” She points at the book.

“It’s not creepy drawings of people being buried, is it?” Eddie says, fear sprinkled in his tone.

You discreetly shove his back with your shoulder. “What he means to say is, ‘are you giving us permission to look at your drawings?’”

Beverly nods, a small smile on her face.

Eddie flips through the pages and he’s caught by surprise. They were quite beautifully drawn for something done by an 8 year old. Gothic drawings of birds, spiders, landscapes and such.

“These are actually really cool.” Eddie praises.

“You’ve done these all by yourself?” You ask, also charmed by the work.

“Mhmm,” The little girl hums proudly. “Well, not all of it. Sometimes, dad starts a drawing and I finish it at home. Then, I start a drawing and he finishes it. He says it’s how we can commemorate with each other.”

“I think you mean, ‘communicate’,” You giggle. “That’s a beautiful story, Bev.”

“He also draws on people’s skin,” She adds, pointing to the matching tattoo you and Eddie had gotten. “Like that.”

You smile at your boyfriend, him, back at you in quiet appreciation; reminiscent of your time together so far.

“Hey, kid, I’ve got a friend I’ll be seeing soon,” Eddie grins. “He’s in a new band and I’d like to give him a little gift. I could use some help with creating a new logo for his band. Think you could make one for me while we kill time?”

Beverly beams. “Yeah!”

The little girl immediately takes out art supplies from her bag, taking the book for him to start on a new blank page.

“Did you mean that? We’re going to Gareth’s show?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “Yeah.”

“Don’t just sit there?” Beverly chastises. “Gimme some ideas.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning over the page and springing ideas with her while you watch in amusement.

————

After 50 minutes, Eddie and Beverly became a close pair. You’d barely spoken with how much the two had gotten along.

“And she’s all, ‘You’re not invited because you’re weird.’” Beverly says in a mocking tone.

“No.” Eddie says in disbelief.

“Yeah and everyone in class had an invitation. She’s always been a real bully. Sometimes she shoves me, pulls my hair…and it makes me angry. Like I want to hurt her.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’ve known asshats like that back in school, too. Wouldn’t even look in my direction because I didn’t have the latest shoes or clothes.”

“Language, Eddie.”

“Sorry, I meant ‘butthats’,” Eddie says, causing Beverly to giggle wildly and nearly color outside the lines. Eddie whispers. “Some advice: don’t stoop down to a bully’s level because then you’ll become a bully, too. It happened to me. I thought solving everything with fists would somehow get people to stop messing with me but it only made me feel worse. It’s okay to stand up for yourself but it’s also okay to tell someone what you're going through. Like an adult.”

You smile at his advice, realizing that he’d listened to you.

He’s becoming really mature.

“However, she did hit you first so it’s only fair game that you get to hit her back.” He adds.

Ooh, so close.

“All done!” Beverly holds up the drawing.

Eddie takes the page, scanning it. It was of a spider spinning a web in the shape of a guitar, a giant cross in the background. It looks badas—“ You shoot him a look. “It’s really cool, kid.”

A whirring sound picks up and the ride’s moving again, the three of you erupt in cheers. When you’d finally reached the bottom, a woman full of fear stood there waiting on the sidelines. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Beverly.

“Bev! Baby.” Her mother sobs in relief, arms opened wide.

“Mommy!” The little girl jumps into the mother’s arms.

“What did I tell you about leaving my side?! I knew you’d be here. You just don’t quit, do you?” Her mother scolds.

“Ahem.” Beverly says, clearing her throat cuing you.

“Hello, Beverly’s mother,” You waved, introducing yourself. “It’s wonderful meeting you. I’m Y/n and this is Eddie. We found her riding alone and talked about searching for you when the ferris wheel stopped.”

“Hello. Please call me Martha,” She introduces herself. “I told her that ferris wheel’s always giving up. I’m so sorry. I hope she didn’t cause any trouble with you. She can be quite the handful.”

“No. She was an angel. Even drew us a picture.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Bev,” Her mother smiles down at her. “Thank you so much for keeping her happy. She’s usually scared to ride those things alone. If there’s any way I could thank you…”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” You protest.

“No, no. I’ve got it! If ever you need help planning an event—maybe a party or… wedding,” She darts her eyes between the two of you, handing you a business card. “That's my number right there. I’m a wedding and event planner.”

You blush, profusely. “Umm, okay.”

“Let’s go, Beverly. Say goodbye to the nice people.”

She pouts. “Will I see you guys again?”

You let Eddie have this one. He crouches down to her level and says, “I think so. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be needing a wedding planned or whatever,” You were now blushing so hard that the heat from your face could warm you enough from the cold weather. “Or maybe I could get some cool tattoo ideas from the artist herself.” He finishes, winking at her.

The girl beams. Then, she and her mother were on their way. Eddie, waving at her until they couldn’t see each other anymore.

You smirk at him. “Well, would you look at that. You’ve overcome your fear of children.”

“She’s pretty cool. Reminds me a lot of myself.”

“She’s very special. Bright, too. I think she’s helped me work out a lot up there than any therapy session I’ve had in years.”

“Somehow the universe keeps sending people our way because you and I could use a little push. We’re very stubborn people, ya know. Although, I’m a Taurus. What’s your excuse?”

You laughed. “So are we going to this show or are we going to discuss signs now?”

“Don’t you wanna debate how un-Taurus like I am,” He jokes. “Alright. Let’s go so see TSNP. Dumb name by the way. Hope Gareth didn’t come up with it.”

“Do you think we’ll make it to their performance on time?”

“I think so. But if we don’t, I’d still like to go for the support,” He smiles and curls an arm around your shoulders. “Then you and I could go back and face reality.”

You rest your head on his, walking out of the park; ignorant to the magazines with your faces on them.

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255 @haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver @apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa @3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701 @lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose @sammararaven @cherrytree69 @bimbobaggins69 @nicolaj1978 @idgafboutyou @eddiesgffff @briasnow-blog @sweetdreamer1010 @sleepyghostygirl @babeyglo @idkidknemore @e0509 @brittney69 @samunson83 @hellfire-puppet @moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06 @shinydixon @cherrysoda444 @lovelyvivii @therese01 @keiracottreau @mirrorsstuff @eddiemunson95 @e-munson666 @munson-fixation @paradoxicalconundrum @lulukings92 @sherrylyn628 @szalipcombo @elamity @munsonswhore86 @kellsck @die-irre-blog @creoleguurl @edsforehead @munsonswhore86 @websterss @screaming-blue-bagel @ick90

[discoverywriter]

20 Questions For Writers

Didn’t actually get tagged on this, but it looked like a fun one. 🤣

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

AO3 says I have 24. Huh.

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

288,626 since I started in 2021, which seemed like a lot to me until I realized 179,551 of those belong to the second thing I ever wrote, a massive 4 part series covering from Rio’s resurrection to their inevitable HEA.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Veronica Mars brought me to AO3. The Punisher (Kastle) made me think for the first time about writing prompts, but it was the Good Girls (Brio) fandom that finally got me to put the proverbial pen to paper.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Even If It Hurts (Part 3 of Walk Through The Fire series)

2. Sanctuary (Part 2 of Walk Through The Fire series)

3. Get Your House In Order (Part 1 of Walk Through The Fire series)

4. By My Side (Part 4 of Walk Through The Fire series)

5. What Would Elizabeth Do?

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to, at least. Sorry if I’ve missed any, sometimes I lose track of the notification emails.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh, definitely Enemy of My Enemy. Hardest fic for me to finish. Not fluffy. No HEA. Rio is aaaaaangry.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm… there’s a lot to choose from cause I looooove a soft, fluffy Brio. If you can slog through the 4 part series, it covers the most ground, ending years after the show. It’s loosely based on canon to start, but veers off.

8. Do you get hate on your fics?

Hmm… Not really. Luckily just one I can think of. A vague accusation that all my ideas were suspiciously like a lot of other ones on AO3… except those other writers did it way better. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I blocked them and figured if anything, it meant I’d finally “made it”. 😂

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I try to. I aim for the kind I think people will enjoy reading, but I often alternate between worrying it’s either a little too cheesy, or over the top.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t, but I would never say never. There are some I would *love* for other people to write, though. Karen Page (Punisher) and Steve Rogers (Captain America)… Intrepid reporter interviews national hero after the Battle of New York. Neither are looking for anything, but sparks fly. Anyone? Anyone??? 🤣

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but wouldn’t it be awesome if AO3 had a button that would do that automatically?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again, no. I won’t say it would never happen, but I’m a bit of a lone wolf writer. Strict deadlines, etc are tough for me, so I think I’d find a co-writing situation very stressful.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

It has to be Brio. 🥰

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This is a tough one. I don’t tend to release fics until they’re finished, so I don’t have any orphaned stories out there crying out for a happy ending. I do have a dozen or so ideas that are in various stages of completion. Some are almost done(ish), so I suspect the ones that are less likely to get finished are the ones that are literally a sentence fragment… barely a complete idea. I mean, they’re great random scattered thoughts, but… Yeah.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my Brio characterizations are good.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Hmmm… Dialogue and smut. My descriptions aren’t bad, but my writing style isn’t as “flowy” as I’d sometimes like.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I’m not bilingual, so if I include another language in a fic I tend to keep it fairly short and straightforward to lessen the chance of getting it wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Girls. First and only.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I don’t mind rereading (most of) my own stuff. I have a special soft spot for ones where Brio interacts with the kids, like Smarter Than Your Average Gang Friend (Rio gets shown up by the Jane), and In Sickness (Jane’s sick and Rio shows Beth an uncharacteristic kindness).

Not tagging anyone in particular. Please, jump in!

[indomitableblackdragon]

I can't figure out this spacing thing and I'm not about to find out. So hey! I'm Allul (They/Them, trying to figure that thing out)! I'm that fucking creature that's flooding your dash with posts about a boat girl and whatever other shenanigans my mind decides to get up to. I'd say I should apologize but really the longer you know me the more you realize this is just how I live my life

I'm 26 (Not for long) and a terrible chronic gacha addict that probably should've stopped a long time ago. But since i haven't I now have adopted boats (as this blog shows) along with....

androids

horse girls

very bisexual prisoners

food personifications

goblins

cinnamon rolls

and plenty of other random things that go in and out of my mind on the daily. This may come at a surprise to plenty of people but I literally haven't even been here a year yet (shocking I know). Most of my writing career has been either super bad fanfics, skype rp (yes this sadly was part of my life), and forums of recently. Only after being dragged here by a few friends did I realize what I was missing out on and I'm glad I joined! I promise you I'm not intimidating as I may seem (If I even come off as intimidating) and really I'm a DM away from blowing your eardrums off about whatever you want. Like lets be real my first blog here was a goddamn pokemon. I think that says everything you need to know.

Anyway next is checks notes about myself and that's problematic. Because I have no idea how to do that :3. According to my friends this meme explains it best

But as expected writing is my hobby (go figure) and beyond that is probably video games. A lot and a ALOT of RPGS, Fighting Games, and whatever is out there to get my serotonin running. Currently I'm down in the mines playing Granblue Fantasy Relink, Granblue Fantasy Versus Rising (are you noticing the trend), and dabbling in some other ventures (Gundam Versus if you want to know how niche my tastes get. I also collect plushes!

in line with my crippling Granblue addiction music CD's!

But yeah if it wasn't obvious I love talking about literally anything. My interests are kinda all over the place but most people can vouch that I'm a damn good listener. And that includes plotting even if my mentality usually is just a "fuck it we ball one" rather than really planning it out (I do love planning too! But sometimes you really just gotta go off and never stop). If you don't find me here on NJ's Blog well don't worry I have like 11 more as well. Featuring...

Morgan le Fay (Fate) (@talesofrainandstars_

Melusine (Also from Fate) (@robustdragonheart)

Nian (Arknights) (@unfetteredfreedom)

Mika ("Archive that may be Blue") (@witchoftrinity)

Architect (Girls' Frontline) (@explosivedesire)

Fenie (Granblue Fantasy) (@sourceoftheflame)

Miyoi Okunoda (Touhou) (@geidonteispostergirl)

"Sparkle" (Honkai Stars Rails) @sparklingsplendor

Hiroi Kikuri (Bocchi the Rock) (@sickhackbassist)

My OC Protag from Armored Core 6 "Raven" (@echoesofcoral)

Beyond that I'm always in Discord if you just want to chat or anything else. You can also find me on twitter where I rant about the most craziest things and cry when my favorites in gachas actually get content (it doesn't happen often). Other then that I have no idea how to end this so here's a picture of my dog

anyway I think I've ranted long enough. Looking forward to talking with everyone more and anyone else who is willing to put up with my muses!"

[pepperonijem]

vi. silly things & sensible people || all my love

"Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way." - Emma; Jane Austen

Summary: sometimes all anyone needs is a gentle nudge in the right direction Pairing: high school!bucky x f!reader Warnings: food mentions Word Count: 3.1k A/N: we all need a friend like wanda <3 || sorry for the delay! I had a job interview this week that I spent all weekend prepping for... i passed! (i'm moving to korea this summer lol)

previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

Wanda opened her notes app and started a new note, titling it with the date and began her weekly letter to her pen pal, wanting to update them on her life... or mostly her best friend's life.

You will NEVER guess what’s been happening this semester. Did you guess? Well whatever you guessed is probably wrong… unless you guessed that my best friend just confessed to her crush without TELLING me about it first. 

It was absolutely insane, I was getting out of class and on my way to find her and Steve for lunch when I saw a HUGE crowd by Steve’s class and right at the center of it all was Bucky Barnes and the only girl crazy enough to give him a handwritten note in the middle of passing period. I only saw the end of it, but it was… brutal. I’ve known Bucky long enough to know he isn’t the friendliest person out there but even for him… it made me so upset. He didn’t even take her card, can you believe it? 

Honestly, this whole time I didn’t realize she actually liked him enough to confess to him. I always thought it was a passing crush, but I guess I was wrong. She was pretty badass for that. But obviously Steve didn’t think so. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so dejected. I wonder if he’ll ever work himself up to do the same thing.

OH. But the craziest part is that a week after she confessed to him, she ended up moving into his house. Turns out her dad and Bucky’s dad were college besties. Isn’t that insane? It’s just like this anime Natasha made me watch with her once. We were in tears the whole time but uh, that’s a story for another day. Or a story for never. She swore me to secrecy after that night.

We actually didn’t realize that she had moved in with him until after the big exam we took when Bucky stormed in and she handed him a picture of the two of them asleep together at the dining table. 

Then that night, she ended up spraining her ankle and Bucky had to take her home so he didn’t get to go to IHOP with us. Sad for him, that was a fun night. Not for Steve… again. By the end of the night he was crying to Sam’s rendition of an ABBA song and chugging down strawberry milkshakes. He’s lactose intolerant and he slept over at my house that night. So… not much fun for me either. I–

“Wanda, get off your damn phone and help us move the couch.” Wanda looked up from her notes app to see Natasha, Tony and Scott waiting for her to grab onto the fourth corner of the loveseat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Wanda apologized before rushing to help them move the couch to the opposite end of the room. “Why are we doing this again?”

Natasha let out a grunt as they dropped the couch ungracefully onto the floor. “Scott thought it would be cool to have a pillow fort.”

“We’re doing this for a pillow fort?” Tony asked in shock. “I thought Scott’s mom just wanted us to redecorate.”

“Tony, why would his mom want both of the couches facing the walls on opposite ends of the room?” Natasha asked with a roll of her eyes. Tony shrugged his shoulders and plopped himself down on the couch. 

Natasha dropped down beside him with a sigh. “When is everyone else gonna get here?” she asked.

“Well Steve had to pick up Sam, but he should be here soon.” Wanda looked down at her watch at the time to compare it against the ETA Steve had sent earlier.

Tony checked his phone as he leaned over the back of one couch. “Rhodey just texted. He just parked outside.”

“What about Bucky?” Scott asked. 

Natasha shrugged as the doorbell rang and Wanda went to answer it, letting Rhodey in. “Sorry, I had to pick up the kid,” Peter walked into the kitchen with a proud grin as Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Yeah but we brought food,” Peter exclaimed as he placed a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. 

“You brought your Chipotle,” Rhodey clarified as he walked to the fridge to grab himself a bottle of water. 

Scott laughed and shook his head as he took the bag and handed it to Rhodey to stick in the fridge. “Did you guys happen to get Bucky too?” 

Rhodey shook his head in response. “I offered him a ride, but he said he had plans.”

“Plans?” Scott echoed. “We are his plans. He’s never missed a board game night.” Wanda could hear the pout in his voice. 

“He didn’t give me any details but I think it has to do with his roomie.” Rhodey commented, checking through his text messages to see if he left any details out. “He said he’ll be busy all day.”

“His roomie, huh?” Tony repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Have you guys noticed he’s been weird lately?”

“Yeah,” Natasha replied. “Last week I asked him if he liked her–”

Before Natasha could continue, Tony walked toward the group gathered by the island, eager to join the gossip. “Yes!” He exclaimed. “Bucky always sends these weird memes that no one gets exam days, but last week, we had a literature exam and guess what?”

“What?” Rhodey asked flatly. Natasha nudged him in response, reminding him to be polite.

“He didn’t send anything,” Tony noted. “When I asked him what happened, he told me he was up the night before studying… but Bucky never studies for literature exams because he’s a nerd who already read the books.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the doorbell rang and in came Steve and Sam. “Hey,” Sam greeted. “What did we miss? We bought drinks.”

Wanda looked over at Natasha as Steve walked in, silently begging her not to finish her sentence from earlier around Steve. Natasha gave her a subtle nod as she attempted to shift the attention to the newcomers.

“Where’s the rest?” Natasha asked as Sam set down his drink on the counter while Steve found a spot beside Wanda.

“Oh,” Sam replied. “I meant we stopped over to buy ourselves drinks from Starbucks. That’s why we’re late.”

“Remind me to start being more specific when I tell  you guys to bring things,” Scott replied with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Anyway, what else were you saying, Tony?”

Tony thought for a second, remembering his train of thought. “Right, so I did some more investigating,” he continued. “And when we were getting into groups for our Shakespeare analysis – I swear I’ve never seen him move this fast, not even at a football game – I saw him join his roomie’s group. He even smiled when she waved at him. I’ve never seen him smile at anyone.” 

“He’s not exaggerating,” Natasha confirmed with an eager nod of her head. “I didn’t even realize they were friends, but it seems like lately they’ve been besties or something. Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend, Steve?”

Steve put his hands up in defense before speaking, his voice just a little too loud and too high to sound calm and collected. “She can do whatever she wants,” he said. 

Although the other boys couldn’t tell, Wanda knew Steve didn’t fully believe the spite in his own words. So coming to her friend’s defense, she joined in. “Yeah, but isn’t Bucky yours?” She asked Natasha, turning the question back to her.

“Chill out,” Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “I was just curious to see if you guys knew anything else.”

“We don’t,” Steve said flatly. “Are we going to play or what?” Natasha and Wanda shared a look, realizing that Steve was feeling a lot more than he was willing to let on, so they accepted his change of subject. The others rushed into the living room as Wanda and Steve stayed behind.

Wanda watched as Steve leaned against the counter, pushing his forehead into his palms as he let out a sigh. Wanda stood beside him facing the opposite way, her elbows leaning against the countertop. Her heart felt heavy at the sight of her distraught best friend.

“Steve,” Wanda began gently but firmly. Steve shook his head, already knowing where this conversation was headed. “Salad. Now.”

Steve let out another sigh, running a hand through his golden hair, and Wanda wasn’t sure if he would answer her, but after a beat, he finally lifted his head. “Lettuce… I’m sad. Chicken… I’m mad. Mostly at myself,” he confessed.

“Why?” Wanda asked quietly.

“For never being brave enough to say anything,” He admitted to Wanda, hanging his head. “It’s just… we have something so good and I didn’t want to lose that. But sometimes…” he trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Wanda pushed.

“It’s just,” Steve sighed. “Do you remember that time in the eighth grade when the three of us got in that huge fight?”

Wanda let out a dry laugh. “The one where you thought the two of us were dating behind your back because we went to a movie together?”

Steve grew a small but sad smile. “Not just any movie,” he clarified. “You watched The Hunger Games without me. It was my favorite book.”

Wanda nudged him playfully. “Steve, you had the flu,” she reminded him. “We wanted to take you but your mom said if she found out you snuck out and we got the flu from you she would stop making us that sponge cake we like. That would’ve been the end of our 14-year old lives.”

Steve let out a chuckle as he nodded at the memory. “I know,” he continued. “But for a week after that, I felt so left out. Like suddenly you were her best friend and she was yours, and I was the odd one out.”

“Is that why you ghosted us for a whole month?” Wanda asked, eyes wide with surprise as Steve nodded in shame. 

“It was dumb, I know,” he cringed at the memories of that time. “But I think I was jealous. Of you.” 

Wanda snorted a laugh at his comment. “Of me? Oh buddy,” she laughed as she pat Steve on the shoulder.

“I know, I know,” Steve ran his hand through his hair again. “But anyway, I think that’s kind of how I feel right now. Like she’s everything to me… but I’m not to her. And it’s not like she owes me anything… I think I just keep thinking, what could I have done differently?”

Wanda thought through her next words carefully, letting silence rest between the two of them. Well, silence was relative. The others were in the next room arguing about whether or not it was fair to let Peter choose to be Colonel Mustard when he doesn’t know how to play Clue.

 ���I can’t say I know what you’re feeling,” Wanda began. “But for me, I think that when I start focusing on things like that, my mind gets stormy. I stop seeing things clearly, and I start doubting myself and the way I fit into my friendships. But then you two always remind me that’s not real. What is real is that I would give everything for the two of you, and if I needed it, both of you would do the same for me. It’s one of the most stable truths of the universe. 

At the same time, I also know that both of you would want me to be happy, and to choose what makes me happy. The same thing I would do for you. And I will always help you to figure out what that is when you can’t see it, like you do for me. When I remember that, the skies clear a little, and I see the sunshine again. I see you guys.”

Wanda turned to Steve, who wiped at a tear forming in the corner of his eye. She gave him a gentle pat on the back and turned to leave him to his own thoughts for a bit. 

Honestly, she was a bit surprised at her own wisdom. She wasn’t usually the friend people came to for advice, but maybe they should start, she thought. She hoped her words got through to Steve, as seeing her best friend hurting was weighing heavily on her as well. She was, however, very excited to tell her pen pal about this situation.

After she made her way into the living room, Natasha moved to sit beside her on the couch, now turned to face the television. “Is he okay?” she asked, nodding towards the kitchen where Steve still stood by himself.

“Yeah, he’s just raiding the leftovers,” Wanda joked. She was lying, but she felt that Steve wouldn’t want to explain to everyone else what had him so emotional.

Natasha nodded, not fully believing her words, but accepting them nonetheless. “Do you wanna play the next round?” She asked instead. 

“Nah,” Wanda pulled out her phone. “I have to work on my letter.”

“Oh to your pen pal right?” Natasha asked. “I can’t believe you’ve been writing to each other since middle school. Why don’t you just ask for his number?” She attempted to look over Wanda’s hands to see what she was writing down.

“Yeah, ask for his number and invite her to the winter formal,” Sam chimed in. “Unless he’s catfishing you.” The group laughed and Wanda laughed along.

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes and continued typing in her note from earlier, updating her letter with the most recent events. However she didn’t get very far before she got a call from Bucky. “Bucky’s calling me?” She asked aloud in surprise.

“Answer him!” They all called in unison, as they looked away from the game to flock towards Wanda, even Steve, who walked in from the kitchen. Wanda looked over to him and he responded with a small smile and a nod, encouraging her to answer the phone.

“Wanda,” Bucky’s voice filled the room from Wanda’s phone speaker. “I need your help.” The group gathered around Wanda all looked at her with wide eyes as they tried to contain their curiosity. However it was Scott who couldn’t hide his gasp, even as Sam slapped his hand over his mouth.

“Hey guys,” Bucky sighed. “Sorry I couldn’t make it but I really need to borrow Wanda for a second.” 

Wanda chuckled as she watched the group disperse with disappointed looks and resume playing their game. She walked back over to the kitchen, and Steve headed for the living room to give her privacy. 

“What’s up Buck?” Wanda asked when she was finally alone.

“Uh,” Bucky sounded like he was thinking about what to say. “How do you feel about a road trip?” 

Wanda couldn’t hide her surprise at the question. “Road trip?” She repeated.

“I can give you the details later,” Bucky said. “But just tell me you’ll come with me.”

“When?” Wanda questioned. “And why me?” 

“Tonight. Right now even,” He sounded panicked and Wanda was beginning to feel the same. “I called you because Natasha already said no.” As if on cue, Natasha had popped her head into the kitchen and Wanda waved her over. 

“Nat,” Wanda began. “Why the hell is Bucky asking me to go on a road trip with him right now?”

Natasha let out a chuckle. “Just hear the poor boy out,” she suggested as Wanda looked at her suspiciously.

“I need to pick up your friend’s dad,” Bucky explained. “Long story short, she was upset he couldn’t make it to the awards, so I reached out to him and basically now he agreed to be here for one night, and his flight is landing soon and the airport is over an hour away and I don’t want to drive alone, but I can’t bring her with me because it’s a surprise and –”

“Woah,” Wanda stopped his rambling with a chuckle. “Long story long, more like.” She looked back at Natasha who raised her eyebrow as if to say See now? Wanda nodded back to her as she let out a hum of thought before an idea popped in her head.

“I’ll come,” Wanda said with a mischievous smile that was hidden by her gentle voice. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, and Wanda could hear his shoulders relax. “But you have to come pick me up from Scott’s house, since I left my car at home.”

“Sure, yeah,” Bucky agreed desperately to her condition. “Thank you so much.”

Twenty minutes later, when the doorbell rang, Wanda almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. But when she thought about it some more, she reminded himself of what she told Bucky just earlier, and her conscience clears just in time for her to open the door to see a panicked Bucky, dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and mismatched socks.

Someone will thank me later, she thinks to herself as she pretends to double over in pain. “Wanda?” Bucky asked in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I ate someone’s leftovers,” she pretended to let out a grunt of pain. “And it’s really not agreeing with me,” she cursed under her breath. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can come with you.” She apologized.

“No, no,” Bucky dismissed her. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He walked in and shut the door, leading Wanda to sit down at the dining table as Natasha walked over with a medicine tablet and a glass of water. 

“Here,” she handed them to Wanda. “Don’t worry Bucky, we’ll find someone to fill in.” Before Bucky could protest, Natasha had walked to the living room and came back with a confused and annoyed looking Steve.

“Steve said he’d be glad to go with you,” Natasha beamed. He very much did not look like he was glad to go with Bucky.

“Uh…” Steve began before Natasha nudged him from behind. “Yep, yeah, I’d be happy to… sit in a car with you for an hour and a half… to pick up my best friend’s dad…”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but after looking down to see the time, his eyes widened in worry. “Okay, perfect,” he said instead. “Let’s go before we’re late. Bye you guys, tell the guys I said hey.” and he grabbed Steve’s wrist and headed out the door.

Wanda and Natasha followed behind them, Wanda now forgetting about her act and leaning against the post on the front steps.

“Do you think they’ll hate us?” Wanda asked Natasha as they watched the two boys get into Bucky’s car from the front porch.

“Oh absolutely. For a month at least.”

[andavs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @thekristen999

How many works do you have on ao3? 21

What's your total ao3 word count? 380,201

What fandoms do you write for? Working on some 911 that I haven’t actually posted yet, and Teen Wolf, which has shifted to the back burner because Eddie Diaz took over my brain.

Top five fics by kudos: A Crooked Way to Fly Tabula Rasa Gift Trapped From Ashes The Guard and Red

Do you respond to comments? I fully intend to. And then my inbox is full of comment notifications from six years ago. I'm sorry I know I suck!!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t think I’ve written an angsty ending? 

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them, I think.

Do you get hate on fics? Occasionally someone will say they didn’t like the ending of Tabula Rasa, but that’s it. And I get it.

Do you write smut? Nah. Once I found out that the actors had seen my art (for both Teen Wolf and 911), that fourth wall imploded in my mind and now it makes me too uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I haven’t done proper crossovers, but I did a Sterek Shrek AU one time that was unexpected.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. Someone once took a sketch, colored it in, and reposted it as their OCs, but that’s the closest.

Have you ever had a fic translated? I think so? I know people have asked to translate them, but I never actually checked after.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? As in putting my own words in a doc, no. But @petals42 and I collaborated a lot with brainstorming and plotting, and then she did the writing and I did the art.

All time favourite ship? To write? Tied between Sterek and Buddie. But I also love Veronica and Logan from Veronica Mars, and John and Aeryn in Farscape, even though I’ve never wanted to write or really read fic for them.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My Teen Wolf season one rewrite! Stiles is Derek’s age and a deputy, and he and Derek knew each other in high school. I still love it, it was just a monster and I haven’t been in that mode for a long time. I still have hope! I want to! If only for my own satisfaction.

What are your writing strengths? I’ve been told I’m pretty good at in character dialogue, at least with Stiles’ voice, and that’s the part I enjoy the most.

What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions and like…actual, genuine emotions, I think. Whenever I try to write the heavier stuff, it feels way too melodramatic and then I cut it way back to the point where it’s basically gone.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If there’s plenty of context around it so you can get the gist of what they’re saying, then it’s okay. Like in Oceans how Yen never speaks a word of English, but everyone else’s responses tell you what he was saying. Otherwise I tend to prefer things like, “He said in Spanish,” or “They argued in Spanish for a minute.” 

First fandom you wrote in? Either Alex Rider or School of Rock. 😬

Favourite fic you've written? I still really like this outsider pov fic. I fucking love outsider pov. I have a 911 outsider pov that’s been mostly done for like two years, but then I realized the actual team isn’t in it enough to make people want to read it, so it's just kind of sitting there.

Tagging: @kitkatpancakestack @wellhalesbells @mad-madam-m @tawaifeddiediaz @cinematicnomad @zainclaw