#these books were my entire childhood lol

[captainsophiestark]

I don't want to break your hopes but slow down (pjo) I don't want you depressed after the first season.

Lol we’ll see how fast I get through the show when it comes out, but I read through the new Chalice of the Gods book in literally like five hours, and it was exactly what I’d been hoping it would be 💗💗 and I just heard that Rick Riordan’s doing another book that follows Percy like the one that just came out! Wrath of the Triple Goddess comes out next fall and I literally can’t WAIT to read it!

[cielospeaks]

aime tachi plot: everything has to make sense, there are rules for the story even tho its self indulgent, yadda yadda, character development, progression consistency

dreamdom hearts plot: anyways the dream works au versions of fe characters and my oc recruit enjoyable single dw villains to go have slightly creepypasta shenanigans with a presumably dead oc

[maybank5]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭)

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ you and jj have never gotten along; sworn enemies since childhood. so why is then, when he shows up with bruises, you want to burn the entire world down for this boy?

tags and such: abuse, mentions of abuse, fluff, comfort, walks on the beach, mutual crushes, jj calling you 'mama'

a/n ⤜ needing some comfort jj fics in my life right now, and i'm sure i'm not alone in that. enjoy! also this was supposed to just be a little drabble, but she kinda took on a life of her own. not complaining though lol

song inspo ⤜ any kyla la grange song

word count ⤜ 4k+

JJ Maybank - the bane of your existence. Ever since he had trampled your sandcastle on the playground back when you were seven, you couldn't stand him. And one trampled sandcastle had set the stage for ten years of torment at the hands of this boy. He seemed to revel in making your life miserable. He wouldn't be JJ Maybank if he wasn't pulling your hair or teasing you or shoulder-checking you in the hallway. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't put your hands on your hips and glare at him, shouting after him a scolding, "Oh grow up!" that was only ever met with that laugh of his that seemed to bounce of the cinderblock walls of the school halls.

You had come to realize sometime around sophomore year that you and JJ Maybank were destined to be enemies. You found yourself looking forward to the school day, to see just how he'd try to fuck with you, and to scold him and hear that damn laugh. Your friends couldn't understand it; why the two of you always seemed to seek each other out, despite your mutual hatred. "You wouldn't get it," you'd say with a shrug. JJ Maybank was your mortal enemy, but you honestly couldn't imagine your school day, your life, without him in it.

JJ is no stranger to a fight. He's always getting into something with the kooks from Figure Eight. It's not out of the norm for him to show up to school with a busted lip or black eye. He always shrugs it off, brags about how the other guy "looks much worse." You roll your eyes and shake your head. He's never seriously hurt though, so you don't worry too much. It's not like you lose sleep over JJ Maybank. Still, you can't help the relief you feel that shoots through you like a drug whenever he laughs off the bruises or black eyes.

But today is different. Yesterday, JJ wasn't in school. Not that unusual of an occurrence. But today, JJ shows up to school with his face a galaxy of purples and yellows. Your heart sinks to your stomach as if weighted with a lead anchor. This wasn't just the result of a spat between a Pogue and a Kook. He looked like he'd been jumped and you spend the entire morning following him with your eyes. You want to go over and check on him, press your palm to his cheek, and ask what happened, make sure he's okay. But that's not you and JJ. Instead, you hug your books tighter to your chest and follow him down the halls with your gaze. All you want to do is run after him, check on him. It makes no sense. You know he probably just got in another fight. JJ was always stirring up some type of trouble. But he didn't have the usual laugh or smile this time. His eyes looked almost hallow, broken. It made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You could barely focus in class, all your thoughts drifting to JJ Maybank and those haunting bruises. They were like ghosts in your head.

At the end of the day, JJ was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder with a wince, about to hop into his truck with you surprised yourself. Instead of catching a ride with your friend Sarah, you find yourself running across the parking lot to his beat up, rusted old truck.

"JJ!" You call.

His head whips around, brows furrow when he sees you. Then, that lazy smirk spreads painfully across the snagged and scabbed lip, "Y/N," he says in that lazy, bemused kind of way of his, that let's you know you're in for something, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

You want to scold him like you would normally. Instead, you freeze. You don't know what to say that doesn't include some sort of spat or dig. Instead, all you want to do is pull him close to you and hold him in your arms and it makes no damn sense.

"You weren't in school yesterday," you settle for saying.

"Astute observation, Sherlock."

Your stomach flips a little, excitedly like it does before a fight with JJ Maybank; like you were born for these little interactions. Instead, you take a breath and try your best to push through the wall he's putting up. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay?"

"When am I ever not okay?" JJ asks, pushing the blonde hair off his forehead with a practiced flick of his hand.

You sigh. He's deflecting. Of course he is. When does JJ Maybank ever take anything seriously. You don't know why it bothers you so much, but you need him to know. You need him to know that you care, that you're in his corner. You'd fight against him a thousand times over, but when he shows up looking like this, all you want to do is fight at his side and burn down the world for him. You know it doesn't make sense, but when did anything regarding JJ Maybank make sense.

You decide to meet him where he's put you. "Just seen you prettier, that's all," you say with a shrug. If he wants to deflect and be snarky, you can do that too. If snark is his comfort zone, you can meet him there.

JJ tugs the corner of his bottom lip between those feline-like teeth of his. He's amused, and it makes you happy to know you made him smile. Or rather, JJ's version of a smile.

"You worried about me, darlin'?" He drawls.

"If someone roughs you up too badly, who do I have to fight with?" You ask, and JJ laughs. Your stomach dips with the weight of the butterflies that have filled it.

JJ pushing his hair back again, smirk still playing on his lip, "Don't worry, darlin', nothin' can stop me from fighting with you. It's my favorite part of my day."

You cross your arms, fighting the smile on your face as you shake your head. "You're impossible," you say.

"And you love it," he says. You don't realize right away that you don't deny it.

"So...need a ride?" He asks, glancing behind you as Sarah's car pulls from the parking lot. "Cause it looks like yours just left."

Sarah. She's always trying to get you two alone. For some reason, she has it in her head that all your fighting is just camouflaging your "real feelings." You think Sarah needs to stop reading so many fanfics in her free time.

"Of course," you sigh, "Remind me to give Sarah Cameron an earful when I get home."

JJ just chuckles and unlocks the truck, tossing his backpack in the backseat. "Get in," he says. You don't argue.

You toss your bag in the back next to his before joining him in the front seat. Sitting together on his bench seats of his old truck feels almost intimate. This is the closest you've ever been to JJ before, and it's happening when you're alone. Both your brain and stomach feel as if they're on rollercoasters.

JJ backs the truck out of the school parking lot. "So, where to, Y/L/N?"

You tell him your street and he nods. He rolls down his window and with practiced ease, takes out and lights a cigarette one handed. You try not to wrinkle your nose. This is his truck and he's being kind enough to give you a ride. You aren't going to be a pain about a little cigarette smoke.

JJ begins to drum his fingers on the wheel, his right knee is bouncing jitterijngly. The cigarette between his fingers is doing nothing to calm his nerves, and you fight the urge to rest your hand on his knee.

"So," you say after a beat, "You gonna tell me about the sick fight you got in that led to....that," you wave a hand in his general direction.

JJ takes a drag of the cigarette, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thicker. "Not much too tell. Mouthed off, the usual."

You nod, "We both know that mouth of yours is gonna get you in some type of trouble one day."

JJ smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eye, "Yeah," another drag of the cigarette, "But fuck, I wish hadn't been so drunk out of his mind to forget he was wearing that damn class ring."

You freeze. "What?"

"Dad," another drag, "That's who I've got to thank for these sick bruises. Dear ol' Dad."

"JJ..."

"It's fine," he quick to say, quick to shrug, "I've got it under control. It's usually not this bad. But last night he was completely hammered and I should have known not to..."

"No, JJ," you're quick to say, "Nothing you did is an excuse for this. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve this. This is on him, not on you."

JJ sighs, tightens his hand on the wheel, "Whatever," he says, another shrug, a slight sniffle, "It's just a few more months, then I'm eighteen and I'm out. It's fine, really Y/N. I've got it under control. And usually when he gets like that, I can hide out at John B's place, lay low a bit."

"JJ, you shouldn't have to..."

"It is what it is," JJ says, another shrug, "It's just the roll of the dice. The hand I've been dealt. I learned a long time ago it does nobody any good to run around feeling sorry for yourself."

"Does anyone know?" You ask, you feel like your stepping out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the weight of the ice.

"John B, his dad. They do what they can. No one blinks twice at a kid from The Cut with a few bruises. I've got a home, I'm fed. That's more than most of the kids from the broken homes 'round here. Besides, if anyone did come sniffin' around and decide to take me away, you know what that means, Y/N? That means being taken to the mainland, to a group home that'd probably be worse than where I am now. And I won't have John B or Big John or the surf to keep me sane. So I lay low, try to stay out of his way. It's fine, Y/N. I'm fine."

Your hand hovers slightly before you press above JJ's knee, right where the khaki cargo shorts cut off. His skin is soft, tanned. You half expect him to jerk away, to smack your hand away. Instead, he tenses under your touch, his eyes draw to you. You give him a soft smile.

"It's okay not to be fine, JJ. You don't have to be fine all the time, and you certainly don't have to be fine around me. It sucks, and I'm so sorry this is what you go through. You've never minced words with me before, so don't start now. It fucking sucks. But you aren't alone, okay? I'm here for you too."

"Mind if we make a pit stop first?" JJ asks.

You shrug, "I've got nowhere else to be."

You're sure Sarah is probably glued to her phone wanting every detail. You can make her stew a little bit.

JJ pulls the truck over at the drive-in burger place, Storm's. He orders two strawberry milkshakes.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, then I'm kicking you out of this truck right now," he says, paying the carhop the $5.50 and handing you your Styrofoam cup.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, I might never speak to you again," you say.

"Damn it," he snaps his fingers with a grin, "Nearly had an out."

You give his shoulder a shove and JJ laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh, to be the cause of it. You want to make him laugh over and over again.

JJ takes the truck out towards the beach. You sit in silence as you watch the waves, sipping your milkshakes. Silence has always made you feel awkward, on edge. This silence between you feels almost comfortable. Like neither of you have to say anything, and that's okay.

Still, you can't help but ask, "You have somewhere to go tonight?"

"Been staying at John B's," JJ says, "Dad'll cool off in a few days. Sober up. He's predictable like that. Hell," JJ laughs humorlessly, "I'll bet this weekend he'll pull up with an ice chest of beer and cans of tuna and have a whole weekend out on the boat planned just the two of us. That's as close to an apology as Luke Maybank can muster."

"JJ..."

"It's fine, Y/N. Like I said, I've got it under control. A few more months and then I'm out. I've even got money saved. John B and I are gonna rent a place close to the water. It'll be sick."

"Sounds nice," you say. "This is nice," you wave your milkshake out towards the sea just ahead, "I don't come to the beach enough."

"You don't? How do you survive?"

You can't help but laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounds. "Not everyone needs the salt water to survive, Jage," you say, "I guess I just never grew up with it. My parents are definitely more inside people. And sure we go to the beach sometimes. But I guess I just don't go out of my way to come here."

"That's just sad, Y/N. One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you to surf." The comment seems to take the both of you by surprise. "Uh..." JJ's hand goes immediately to the back of his neck.

"I'd like that," you're quick to say, and it seems to relax him just a bit.

"Really?" That lazy grin is back.

"Mmhmm," you nod, "No one's ever gone out of their way to teach me anything like that before. And even I know you're one of the best surfers on the island."

JJ beams with pride, sits up a little straighter, "Damn straight." He takes another slurp of his milkshake, then lifts his chin towards the water, "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?" You ask as he's already bailing out of the truck.

"Just c'mon," he says.

You can't help but laugh, leaving your milkshake behind. JJ takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the beach. The wind is kicking up as evening approaches, and you walk along the sand, breathing in the brine of the salt water. JJ's still holding your hand in his, and you can't help but think it belongs there, in his.

"This right here," he says, "is why I stay where I am. I can't imagine being away from the ocean, the surf. John B says I have saltwater for blood and maybe he's right. But this right here, Y/N, is my favorite place in the world. It's paradise. Everything else, all the bullshit, it's worth it to be here. There's no where else I'd rather be."

"It is beautiful," you say, "I definitely need to come out to the water more."

"I'll bring you."

"You better."

JJ smiles, tightens his hand around yours.

The two of you walk along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing, the gulls cawlling from above. Some little kids are building sandcastles as you walk past.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You ask, "I was building a sandcastle in the sand box on the playground and you trampled right over it."

"That was not the first time we met."

"Yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't. C'mon, Y/N, do you really not remember?"

"I remember you trampling my sandcastle is what I remember."

JJ shakes his head, "We met before that. Nursery school. About two years before then."

"What?" Your brows furrow as you try to think back that far.

"It was your first day and you were crying and clutching that stupid teddy bear of yours. You didn't want your mom to leave you. You sat off by yourself crying all morning. I went over and shared my Goldfish with you cause I felt bad."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair, watching the sand kick beneath his feat, "And then that day on the playground, I was so excited to see you again that I ran over and...accidentally stomped on your sandcastle. But by then you were so livid that I'd ruined it and started yelling at me, and well...I've always been kind of a shit about things and so I started kicking it worse, just to get a rise out of you. I'd have done the same thing to John B. But seeing you get all...squawk like that."

"I do not squawk."

"Oh you absolutely squawk," JJ laughs, "And thus began our beautiful rivalry as we know it."

"You're a pain," you say, but you can't help the smile on your face.

"You love it though."

"Do not."

"Do too!" JJ gives you a gentle shove with his shoulder, "You absolutely start half the shit that's happened between us. You go out of your way to track me down and yell at me for something."

"I do not do that!"

"You absolutely do that. And you drag poor Sarah long with you and she stands there and tries not to laugh as we go at it. If I didn't know better, Y/N, I'd say you actually enjoyed our fights."

"That's not true! You are such a menace! You get on my last never all the time and..."

"Uh-huh," JJ's smirk deepens, the dimple forms in his cheek, "Keep tellin' yourself that, Mama."

The term of endearment makes your stomach tighten. You can feel your cheeks heat, and it's not from the sun.

"Don't call me that," you say.

"Why not?" JJ asks.

"Because," you can't think of a single valid reason. "That nickname is for a significant other," you finally say.

"True," JJ nods, "And that's definitely not you, right?"

"Absolutely not," you say, your hand gives his an involuntary squeeze, "In your dreams, Maybank."

"What do you know about my dreams, Y/L/N?"

You give him a shove, and JJ laughs.

"I like that," you say before you can stop yourself.

"Like what?" JJ asks.

"Your laugh."

You swear his cheeks go a shade of pink when you say it.

"No one likes my laugh," he says.

"That's not true. John B likes your laugh, I see the two of you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you laugh. And I like it too."

JJ blushes deeper, "You can't just go runnin' around sayin' shit like that," he says.

"And why not?"

JJ just sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky like he's saying a silent prayer and shakes his head, "You just can't, darlin'."

The two of you walk a little further, to one of the rocky hills. JJ still holds your hand as the two of you climb up to sit on the top. He pulls his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Love coming here," he says, "Best place to sit and clear your head when the noise of everything else gets too loud."

"It really is beautiful," you say, "Thank you for bringing me."

"Haven't had a chance to come out here since the other night," JJ says, picks up a rock and turns it in his hand. "Went straight to John B's after."

You finally reach a hand out, cup his cheek in your palm, "I'm so sorry, JJ," you say, wishing your gentle touch could somehow erase the pain from his flesh. You realize in this moment that JJ Maybank should only ever feel gentleness and softness. It breaks your heart to think he's felt anything else.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," he says, overlapping your hand with his, "But thank you, Y/N."

"Make you a deal," you say.

"What's that?" JJ asks.

"Any time things feel like a lot, you can come find me and bring me out here. I need a surf instructor after all. Any time you need to clear your head and need an excuse, I'm here."

JJ smiles, nuzzles his cheek into your hand, "Thanks, Y/N." He takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the back of your knuckles, "Can I tell you a secret?" He asks.

"Sure."

"I think that's why I pick fights with you like I do. Fighting with you...it's fun. And it pulls me out of my head. Distracts me."

You can't explain it, but his words make your stomach dip. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," JJ blushes again, ducks his head, "I just...it's fun. Isn't it?"

"It is," you admit, "I like fighting with you."

"But after all these years...." he sighs, "...sometimes I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder?"

"If there might be something better...better than fighting."

The butterflies are back and you tilt your head to meet his eye, "Like?"

"You're my distraction, Y/N. Every bit as much as the waves are. You keep me grounded. It sounds stupid....but the reason I even still come to school at all is because I look forward to fightin' with you. I'm just sayin'....what if there was something more than fightin'."

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask. JJ nods. "Sarah gives me so much shit for it, but fighting with you is one of my favorite parts of the day. I do look for you and go out of my way to yell at you for something. It's...it's fun, getting under each other's skin. I can't imagine you not being the fixture you've become in my life, JJ Maybank. I don't think I want to."

JJ takes a breath, the blush is back on his cheeks. You give his hand a squeeze.

"What would you want with a guy like me?" He asks and your heart clenches in your chest.

You let go of his hand and turn to face him, sitting up on your knees. "JJ Maybank," you say, gently scolding, "Don't you even think that. Not for a second."

"Look at me though," he says with a broken sigh, "I'm fucked up, Y/N. Just look at my face..."

You interrupt with a press of your lips to his cheek. JJ freezes, you hear the softest little gasp escape. You press another kiss to another bruise, and another. The bruise on his cheekbones, the cut above his eyebrow, the purple blooming along his eyesocket. JJ is almost shaking as you press a final kiss to the cut on his swollen lip.

"Jesus, Mama..." he says, and it sounds like a prayer.

"That a better distraction than fighting?" You ask with a smirk of your own.

"Fuck yes," his voice is thick and wrecked as you sit back, card your hand through the blonde bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I think so too," you say. "What do you say we retire our title of mortal enemies, hmm?"

"Yes please."

You can't help but giggle at the desperation in his voice, "What other title should we give each other then?" You ask.

JJ rolls his eyes, the smile on his face big enough to split him in two, "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Mmhmm."

JJ shakes his head helplessly, "Alright, fine. You win. Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend," you say back.

JJ ducks his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. His smile has somehow grown even bigger. Then, as if finally getting a handle on himself, he reaches up and pulls you towards him, hand at the nape of your neck.

"You know what this means, right?" He asks, lips hovering above yours.

"Tell me."

"I get to kiss you any time I like."

"Well you god-damn better," you can't help but grin.

JJ chuckles lowly, before capturing your lip in his. The kiss is unlike any other kiss you've ever experienced; those sweet, shy kisses on doorsteps after dates to dances and diners. This is different. There's a desperation there, a hunger, and a hope all in one. JJ nips at your lip as the two of you pull apart.

"Fuck," he says on a sigh.

"Better than fighting?" You ask again.

"So much better."

You press another kiss to his cheek, "I wish I could kiss away every bit of pain, JJ."

"This?" JJ points to the bruise on his cheek, "Aint nothin'. I'd walk through fire and back for one kiss from you."

"I'd never ask you to," you say, cupping his cheek in your palm again. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, Mama?"

"I get to kiss you any time I like. No walking through fire required."

"You're letting me call you Mama," JJ says, reaching a hand out to twist a strand of your hair around his finger.

"Boyfriend privileges and all that," you say.

"I like the sound of that," JJ grins, "Tell me, darlin'. What other privileges do these new titles come with?"

You shake your head with a laugh, "You'll just have to see."

The sun is starting to set and JJ sighs, "Guess I better be gettin' you home."

"Pry should."

"And Big John is grilling out for us tonight, so I should get back for that."

"You gonna be okay?" You ask.

"Of course," he says, "I'm JJ Maybank. When am I ever not okay?"

You sigh and shake your head as he holds out his hand and helps you to your feet. "Besides," he says as the two of you start the walk to the car, "I get to look forward to seeing my girl tomorrow."

You can't help but blush. JJ holds the truck door open for you and you slide in. He goes around to the drivers side and hops in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Do girlfriends get AUX privileges?" You ask, reaching for the cable hanging down by your feet.

"Fuck no," JJ laughs, snatching it away, "I've heard the shit you and Sarah blast from her convertible. Girlfriend or not, Taylor Swift is not touchin' these speakers."

"But...girlfriend privileges."

"Girlfriend privileges nothin'," JJ grins, backing the truck out, "Girlfriend privileges mean I'm pressin' you up against this truck and kissin' you breathless before I tell you goodnight. It does not mean blasting Taylor Swift in ol' Daisy Mae."

"You named your truck Daisy Mae?"

"What?"

"That's more egregious than any music I could play from my phone."

"Don't you be talkin' shit about Daisey Mae, okay?"

"Stupid ass name," you say with a smile.

JJ lifts his middle finger at you with a smile equally as big.

"Alright," you say, "question."

"What's that?"

"Just because we've retired the title of mortal enemies doesn't mean we still can't fight, right?"

"Not the fun fights anyway," JJ grins, "Those fights I can always just shut you up by kissin' you."

"Menace."

"Always."

You shake your head, laughing and lean your head against his shoulder.

"Oh I am in so much trouble," he says, handing you the AUX cord, "You've already got me wrapped around your finger. You always have."

You press another kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in yours. You pull up These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding.

"And you've got me wrapped around yours," you say.

JJ grins, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. The two of you drive the rest of the way to your house in silence, your head on his shoulder and Otis' voice crooning from the crackling stereo. JJ Maybank was officially now no longer the bane of your existence, and maybe Sarah Cameron hadn't been that off-base after all. All you knew in this moment though was you'd spent the last ten years being driven crazy by JJ Maybank, and you'd gladly be driven crazy by him the next ten.

[crackedhrglass]

i got this ask on my strawpage and was gonna type it up in my notes app and post it to twitter, but i really couldn't figure out a way to say it concisely, so i'm answering it here bc it's prob gonna be long lol.

do i think stancest is actually canon? simply put, no. despite how often i'm like "STANCEST IS CANON!!" i truly don't think that AH and the writers intended stan & ford's relationship to be seen through an incestuous lens.

their relationship is def the heart of the show, second only to dipper & mabel's own bond. they are the center of each other's worlds, their story & character arcs revolve almost entirely around each other, and their happy ending is literally the two of them sailing off into the sunset to spend "the rest of their days" together (ford says this almost word-for-word in journal 3).

but i still don't think all of that was meant to be taken romantically.

in my opinion, where things start to get a little weird is, surprisingly enough, ford's relationship with bill.

the rest is under a cut bc HOLY SHIT this got longer than i expected.

there's no denying that bill was written to deliberately parallel stan in a number of ways, from his mannerisms, to his conman status, to the fact that he calls ford the same name stan did when they were kids.

he's written in a very intentional way that makes him serve as both stan's parallel and his foil, especially in their respective relationships to ford (bill feeds into ford's ego and encourages him to aspire for greatness alone, stan has always been a direct obstacle & challenge to ford's ego, accidentally ruining his chances at WCT & encouraging him to live out their childhood dream together; bill valued infinite power over his own family and destroyed his dimension as a result, stan valued his family over everything, and saved ford and his dimension as a result).

normally, this wouldn't be that big of a deal to a stancest shipper like myself. but as the book of bill & the accompanying website all but confirmed in big, flashing neon lights, ford & bill have a romantic history and are exes.

having the two people closest to ford be compared to one another is one thing. having ford be drawn to bill because of how similar he is to the brother he secretly misses is one thing.

having ford be romantically involved with said character is what makes me raise an eyebrow lol.

again, do i think ford is literally a brocon who's got repressed sexual/romantic feelings for stan?

no.

i do, however, think he has unresolved Brother Issues that led him to subconsciously find comfort in a romantic partner that reminded him of stan (right down to bill calling him stan's nickname for him) in much the same way a person with "daddy issues" may seek out affection & intimacy from someone who reminds them of their father (or is just "fatherly" in general).

that much, i believe, was actually intentional. it's just too blatant to not be lol. it'd be a completely different story if either

bill & stan were nothing alike (untrue) or

ford & bill's relationship was strictly platonic and didn't have any romantic implications (also untrue)

i've said this before, but this isn't just a case of "oh, ford fell in love with someone who just coincidentally reminds him of his brother." bill's use of the nickname "sixer" during their first encounter was a deliberate attempt at appealing to a part of ford that was repressed, vulnerable, and aching, in order to get ford's guard down and make it easier for ford to trust him, and it worked.

billford is a ship that, to put it bluntly, would not exist without ford's buried feelings for stan, even disregarding shipping/incest/etc. ford's desire to be close to stan even platonically is what allowed bill to needle his way into ford's heart in the first place.

and all of this wouldn't be that weird if, again, bill hadn't continued to feed into ford's longing for stan even after they'd established a romantic relationship, by still calling him "sixer" and trying to permanently sever the relationship he had with stan specifically, once he and ford broke up (the phone call he tried to make while in ford's body that was described in tbob).

to put it another way, imagine if wendy was basically an older, taller mabel, or if any of mabel's crushes were eerily similar to dipper. people in the fandom would def take notice and view it as a little strange. so i don't get how people can look at ford dating someone so blatantly and intentionally similar to stan and think to themselves "ah yes, this is normal. ford is completely Normal and definitely doesn't have any underlying issues whatsoever" lmao

to conclude: no, i don't think ford & stan's relationship is actually canonically romantic, nor do i think ford falling in love with bill was incestuous, necessarily.

but i do think that he had a desperate longing to reconcile with stan buried DEEEEEEP down, and it manifested itself in the form of being attracted to bill, which is probably why he never bothered correcting bill's use of the nickname "sixer" since their very first meeting, or ever expressed that it made him uncomfortable.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 

As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.

And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.

It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 

No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).

But now, things are different.

He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 

He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  

Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  

So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 

But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 

Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.

- 

“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.

“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 

Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 

And now, you were about to destroy it. 

Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 

It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 

See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.

And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.

Hellfire’s page.

And it was perfect. 

The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.

Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 

You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-

“What are you doing here?”

Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 

“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 

“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.

Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”

“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 

Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working—but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”

“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 

Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.

“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 

“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”

“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 

“But the distributors don’t close until six-”

“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 

“Well, n-no-”

“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.

Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 

Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”

You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?

“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 

Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”

You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”

Everything was not perfectly okay.

Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 

-

It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?

There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 

Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”

Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?

“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.

“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 

“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 

“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 

The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.

A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.

But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.

Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.

“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”

You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”

You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.

“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 

Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.

“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”

The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 

And no one was noticing. 

“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”

Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 

“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 

Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.

And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.

“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”

Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 

Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 

“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”

“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.

“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.

“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.

“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 

Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”

While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 

“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”

Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 

You were off. 

You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.

“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 

“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 

Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.

“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”

You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.

“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 

Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.

“Okay, I want you to-”

“What are you doing to her?!”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 

Jessica fucking Lewis.

“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”

“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 

But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 

-

Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.

And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.

While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).

See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.

As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.

But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  

The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.

Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 

“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”

Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”

“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.

Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”

Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.

“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 

Eddie had had enough. 

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”

“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”

Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.

Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 

Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.

“What?!”

Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.

“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 

“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 

“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.

“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”

“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”

And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”

The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 

Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.

You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”

No malice, no anger, no fury.

Just pure defeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!

(Big, fat kisses to all of you) @televisionboy @batkin028 @lostdreamingwallflower @cevais @myfavoritesareproblematic @btbabyy @married-to-the-music01 @super-nova-03 @deathnote6666 @cherrytc @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @averagestudent03 @freakymunson @princess-eddie @imagine-a-world-blog1 @negativity4you

@nope-thanks @allsortsedits @callingmrsbarnes @f0rgggg @hurricane-abigail @sweet-sunflower64 @redlovett @goldstars-to-all @eddiesguitarskills @goslytherin @sashaphantomhive @maxinehufflepuffprincess @emeritusemeritus @angel-upon @middle-of-the-earth @scarletwitchwhore @my-tearsricochet @pixiepaintt @ericasdumbworld @animechick555

@gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn

(I’m so sorry, some blogs are not popping up when I try to tag y’all, if it’s an issue on my part, I’ll try my best to fix it as soon as possible)

[reidingandwriting]

Lover (Steve Harrington’s Version)

Chapter One: It’s Nice to Have a Friend

“Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand”

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader, some cursing throughout, references to Steve and reader having not so great parents.

A/N: I have churned out this entire series within a week LOL. Shoutout Stranger Things brainrot for returning, I think I’ll be writing a lot more Steve centric fics.

Next chapter

You weaved your way through the crowds, the cool not-quite-spring air hitting you as you walked further from the school. You smiled as you heard your name called, and you immediately turned in his direction to wave. You walked a little faster, apologizing when you brushed someone a little roughly as you passed them, and you beamed up at Steve when you were close. Wordlessly, the two of you began to walk towards his car.

You lived on the same street as Steve Harrington, so naturally the two of you became close during your childhood. You were only a few months younger than Steve, but he had gravitated towards taking on a protective role towards you as you grew up. During middle school, he walked you home every day and now that you were in high school, he continued taking you home- just in a car this time.

“Are we going to mine or yours?” You asked as you tucked your hands deeper into your jacket pockets. You had overslept this morning and forgotten your gloves in your rush to get ready, and you were regretting it as the wind picked up.

“I was thinking yours? If that’s cool. My parents are supposed to be home tonight,” Steve said with a slight frown and you nodded. Steve glanced at you and dug into his pockets before he held his hand out. You eyed the bundle of brown fabric in his hands and you smiled graciously at him as you took the gloves.

“Thank you. And mine is perfect. My parents are on some trip so I’m alone for the rest of the week.” Steve frowned when he realized it was only Tuesday. He didn’t like the idea of you being alone that long, but his and your parents were similar in many ways- they were both fans of the absent parenting method. You and Steve were both happier with your parents gone, as fucked as it was. “Wanna stay over tonight?”

“I should go home,” Steve drawled as he opened your car door. You climbed into the seat and shut the door behind you as Steve went around to the driver’s side. “You sure you don’t mind?” You hummed your affirmation while Steve settled into his seat and you leaned forward to turn up the heat. You laughed as Steve swatted at your hand before you pouted.

“It’s freezing!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Steve said as he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive home.

“Not all of us are human furnaces.” You huffed and Steve scoffed, turning up the radio and you grinned as you recognized the song. “Ooh, love. Ooh, lover boy. What to do tonight?” You sang along with the radio and missed how Steve rolled his eyes fondly, humming along with your singing. Later that night, you and Steve sat on the couch, pizza boxes discarded on the coffee table as a movie played on the television. You had a book in your hands, and you groaned as you closed it.

“Need a break?” Steve asked and you fell to the side, hitting Steve’s shoulder with an ‘oof’ and Steve shook his head. “You’ve been reading for a while, movie’s almost over.” You looked at the screen, watching for a moment until you recognized the scene. The Shining, one of your favorites. You didn’t answer and Steve poked your cheek. You turned your head, lazily pretending to bite at him and Steve felt some of his worry start to fade away. “You okay?”

“Stressed,” you said simply and Steve sighed as he leaned back against the couch.

“Yeah, me too.” Steve ran a hand through his hair and you watched, tempted to run your own hand through the luscious brown locks. A beat of silence passed until Steve spoke again. “Have you been sleeping okay? You look kinda tired.”

“Dick.” You scowled but your word had no heat to it. “Not really,” you admitted after a second. “My parents have been fighting more lately. College. Dad wants me to stay in Hawkins, but Mom wants me to go somewhere else. Somewhere… bigger.” Better had been the word she used, which had led to an argument where your dad accused you of thinking you’re better than Hawkins and the life he gave you wasn’t good enough, blah blah blah. You didn’t understand why you had been brought into it when you were literally sick in the bathroom, but whatever. Everything was always your fault when it came to your dad.

Steve worried about you. Your parents may have been more physically present than his, but they emotionally were just as absent. They only cared about you when it came to their reputation, and as long as you weren’t ruining the family name, you didn’t exist in their eyes. Your mom… she tried to be better, but with how your dad was, she chose to silently support you with money snuck to you when they’d be gone on long trips. Quietly slipping you information about colleges far from Hawkins, far from Steve. And you deserved better, you deserved to leave Hawkins and accomplish things no one in this small town could ever dream of achieving. But selfishly, Steve wanted you to stay. You were his best friend, he needed you home. When you were little, you had always joked about running away together. Now, he honestly considers it every day.

“Have you decided what you want to do? For college?” Steve asked and you blindly reached for his face, patting until you found his mouth and covered it while you loudly shushed him. “Mature.” Steve’s words were muffled by your hand and you squeezed his face before dropping your hand.

“Don’t wanna think about it. Don’t wanna think about anything,” you said. Steve leaned his head to the side, your hair brushing against his cheek. “How are the kids? We still taking them to the rink Saturday?” Steve welcomed the topic change and he hummed.

“If you still want to go, yeah. Dustin will probably be all pouty if you can’t make it, but he’ll deal.” Dustin had taken a strong liking towards Steve, so naturally he had grown closer to you as well. “Still can’t believe this is how I’m spending my Saturday.”

“You love them,” you said and Steve didn’t have time to defend himself before you yawned.

“Come on sleepyhead, you’re delirious now. Bedtime.” Steve carefully moved you off him and you fell back over with a whine. Steve said your name and you huffed before you sat up, groaning like the task was the hardest thing you had ever done. Together, the two of you took the pizza boxes to the trash and turned all the lights off. You double checked that your door was locked before you turned to Steve.

“Stay?” You asked as you and Steve walked towards your bedroom and Steve nodded. “Thank you. I don’t, I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“No need to thank me.” The nickname that fell from his lips made your cheeks feel warm and you were grateful for the darkness to hide the smile on your face. You settled into your respective sides of your bed, the moonlight illuminating your features just enough for you and Steve to see each other. “Goodnight.” Steve whispered and you smiled as you closed your eyes.

“G’night, Stevie.” Steve watched you for a minute after you had drifted to sleep, the tension in your body finally melting away. Steve felt himself start to fall asleep and he slowly reached out, brushing his hand against your own as he slept. Neither of you had slept that well in ages.

-

“I need a break!” Steve called as he less than gracefully skated towards the exit of the rink and you passed him quickly, giving him a double thumbs up as you continued to skate. Steve was grateful when he sat down in the booth and Nancy looked over at him, amusement in her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing! Just enjoying seeing them happy.” You had all been through hell and back and it was moments like these that Steve remembered that Dustin and all his friends? They were just kids. Kids who had saved the town twice already, kids who had fought things Steve never would have imagined could be real. Watching the group of them skate, playing games in the arcade… he hoped they would have more moments like that. Steve busied himself with retying one of his skates as Nancy spoke again.

“You should tell her. Before graduation.”

“Not like it matters much,” Steve scoffed. “I didn’t exactly have colleges fighting to have me. I’ll be in Hawkins for god knows how long. But,” Steve trailed off as he watched you do some trick that had his heart leaping into his throat. You caught his gaze and you thrusted your fist into the air as you skated by, proud of yourself. “I can’t let my feelings change her decision.”

“Shouldn’t that be her decision?” Nancy asked, voice gentle, but things otherwise fell into a comfortable silence between the two of them. You came by a minute later and you took a seat beside Steve, grabbing your soda from the table and chugging it.

“Dude, slow down! You’re going to make yourself sick.” Steve scolded and you stuck your tongue out at him once you had set your drink down. “Cool trick out there.”

“Scared him to death.” Nancy added and Steve glared at her. Nancy shot Steve a smug look before he looked back at you.

“Dustin said I was bluffing about being able to do it, and I can’t lose a challenge to a child.” The three of you looked at the rink, seeing the kids all waving you over, and you turned to Steve. “Do you want to skate some more? Or is it break time?” You looked between Steve and Nancy.

“I’ll be back out in a minute,” Nancy said and Steve agreed. You started to stand back up and Steve grabbed your hand. You both froze and Steve swore the touch was electric, his hand tingling from the contact.

“Be careful, yeah? Between you and Max, I’m going gray.” You smiled and saluted.

“Scout’s honor.” And with that, you were off back towards the rink. While Nancy teased him about his ‘mother henning’, Steve missed out on the teasing you were getting from Max.

“Just friends, my ass.”

“Do you want to walk home, gremlin?”

[minhosimthings]

Preview: Sweet as Cherry Wine

In which the cold librarian's heart gets melted by his best friend's sister

Synopsis: Kim Seungmin was the assistant librarian at your uni's library and the love of your life. Oh and also your brother's best friend.

Pairings: Seungmin × fem!reader, includes rest of skz, Winter (aespa)

Warnings: brother's best friend trope, a play on Hades and Persephone, secret relationship, flufff, seungmin is a menace, SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), verryyy little choking, slightly sub minnie?, just a lot of me simping after his fingies, semi public sex (in the library)

A/N: whadup mona fam. Surprised im alive? yeah me too honestly lol. anyway im very sick rn BUT i wanted to complete this because this shit has been stuck in my wips since september 2023 and anyway it's my Minnie phase. Please look forward to the full fic!!!

STATUS: POSTED

FULL FIC

“And how she let the pomegranate juice,

Drip from her smiling lips,

Even Hades trembled under sweet Persephone’s gaze.”

The tantalising smell of old leather and paper hugged your nostrils as soon as you crossed the threshold of the outdoors into the library. The entire room had the faint smell of sandalwood wafting through it as well, which your lungs appreciated as you breathed the air in.

Having spent only six months in your university as a freshman, you had never dared to step foot into the university’s famed collection of books more than five times. You were far too intimidated by it. That, and also the fact that you had a tremendous amount of work hanging over your head. And you certainly did not want to disappoint your parents, who worked day and night in ensuring that you had a proper education.

“Y/Nnie come on!” Your friend, Jeongin, grabbed your hand and dragged you further into the grand building. Jeongin was the first friend you had made in college, having argued furiously with him in your sociology class on the modern feminist forms of thought. Deciding that he was smart enough to never keep you bored, you promptly shook hands with him. He must have thought so too, because the very next day, he introduced you to his band of friends, with whom he had grown up since childhood.

And now, you could see one of those friends waving to the both of you from a very large table. It was Lee Minho–dance prodigy, archeology student in his third year, frequent arson enthusiast and a cat dad. That was what you had gotten from him, six months into your friendship

“Hyung!” Jeongin practically leapt on the stunningly beautiful man as soon as he came near him, “I’ve missed you so much!”

Minho made a face of disgust, but you could see the faint smile threatening to spill out as he hugged Jeongin back.

“Let go of me before I suffocate you, brat.” Minho said, giving you a smile as Jeongin reluctantly pulled back, “Alright, Y/N?”

“Good as always.” You responded with a grin. “Oh, congratulations on your win at the Dance Masters by the way!” Minho tilted his head at you as a ‘thank you’, with his ears turning furiously red, and his smile widening.

“And what about me?” A smooth voice made you jump as the ever-present smile of Hwang Hyunjin appeared before your eyes.

“Give me a warning before you pop out of nowhere!” You laughed, being engulfed into a tight hug by Hyunjin, “And congratulations to you, as well.”

“Why thank you.” Hyunjin did a dramatic sort of curtsy after unleashing you from his arms, “Hyung, have you seen Lix anywhere? He forgot his keychain with me.”

“He’s still stuck in class.” Minho muttered, raising his arms up abruptly and stretching with a very loud sigh, “My bones are so stiff, I swear to God.”

“Could you keep it down, old man?”

Perhaps the most annoying voice in the entire campus rang in your ears as you spun on your heel to see the bane of your existence. The world’s most insidious bastard faced you, in the form of a 5 '10, history-majoring, glasses-wearing, probably drinks pomegranate juice in the morning sophomore.

Kim Seungmin.

The universe couldn't have made a more negative person.

And a more perfect secret boyfriend too.

Taglist: @vixensss @miyeonna @15092000volcano @berntbang @cookiesandcreammy @babrieeee

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

  vi. the letters

september 2nd 2008 (age 9)

dear jungkook,

  my mom said i should write you letters. i don’t really know what to say here. you better be visiting marshmallow and be nice to her while i’m gone. i miss her a lot. i guess i miss having you around since i don’t have anyone to play guitar hero with…

p.s. happy late birthday maybe i can visit and come to your party next year if my mom lets me

  from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

january 19th 2009 (age 10)

dear y/n,

  i learned how to skate for the first time. it’s too bad the ice will be gone when you’re back and we won’t get to skate together. i can’t believe we’ll be in middle school soon. are you scared? hoseok and namjoon say it’s not a big deal. also, i saw your grandpa yesterday and he showed me how to use a tapper on a maple tree. so cool!

p.s. you should ask your mom if you can visit earlier this year

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

april 23rd 2009 (age 10)

HEY JUNGKOOK,

  look inside the box, i sent you a book with this letter. i told you in my last letter that i would send you one. it’s astronomy for dummies (because you’re a dummy). you better read it before i come back to grandpa’s, okay?? you have a month and a half loser.

from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

september 30th 2009 (age 10)

hi y/n,

  jimin sprained his ankle during gym class. your grandpa told me to write that because it probably just made your day. i feel a little bit bad for him, the nurse at our school is really mean. also i know it’s a month away but i’m so excited for halloween. my dad got me this really cool goku costume. what are you gonna dress up as?

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

february 4th 2010 (age 11)

jungkook,

  i’m so tired of my parents fighting all the time. all they do is yell. i can’t wait to be back in amber valley so i don’t have to hear them all the time. i wish i had your parents, they’re so nice. also i hate my class. it’s so hard to be friends with the girls that sit next to me, they always leave me out of things. don’t you miss elementary school?

  from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

may 17th 2010 (age 11)

dear y/n,

  guess what. my dad got me a skateboard!! it’s so cool. if you’re nice to me i’ll let you borrow it. we should see who can do the coolest trick. it’ll be me of course i’m better than you at everything LOL. you better hurry and come back!

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

november 25th 2010 (age 11)

hi jungkook, 

  i can’t believe i’ll only be living with my dad soon. do you think my mom doesn’t want me? honestly, i’d rather just live with grandpa all the time. then i could see marshmallow everyday all year! or maybe you can convince your mom to take me in. actually, i take that back, i could never live with you. you’re so messy. 

p.s. i got my own skateboard!! it’s cold now but i’m gonna practice and bring it with me next summer

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

february 18th 2011 (age 12)

y/n,

  i know you’re super sad and stuff. i’m sorry about your parents. we’re gonna have the best summer ever though and maybe you won’t think so much about it. look at the bucket list i made!

eat breakfast for dinner

watch the captain america movie

ride the big kids ride at the midsummer fair (i’m tall enough now so you better be too)

stay up all night

make ice cream

  if you have any ideas, add on! hope you’re doing okay :( 

  from jungkook

  vii. the saloon

when jungkook mentioned the saloon to you, you thought it was a joke poking at the countryside life. 

  “oh, it’s actually called a saloon. like, unironically. that’s what the text said,” you rambled into your phone, edged between your ear and shoulder, as you stood in your kitchen in front of your laptop.

  on the screen, you were assembling an excel sheet of sorts to assist your navigation through the business side of the farm. thankfully, this was exactly the field you had long worked and studied in and knowing this before taking on your new role made the transition far easier. there was hardly any product to be profiting from, as you had just arrived, and you were preparing the document before the time came to deal with vendors and other local businesses.

  “oh, honey, that place has actually been called ‘the saloon’ ever since i was a little girl,” your mom’s voice chimed in from the other end.

  since the turn of your early twenties, your phone calls to your parents were far and few between and you could hear the surprise in her tone when she initially picked up. but, your grandpa’s letter seemed to be growing truer everyday, as your surroundings made drew you to reconnect with what you thought was to be lost.

  eyebrows furrowed, you continued to scroll through your work. “mom, do you think he meant it as a date? i can’t do a date, i literally just got here!”

  “calm down. it’s that amber valley hospitality. but,” your mom paused, “you did have crushes on each other growing up.”

  “mom, no way - “

  she merely laughed. “it was so obvious! you mailed a valentine’s day card to jungkook every year. one time, he punched little jimin because he called you ‘jungkook’s ugly girlfriend.’”

  “and then he screamed that i wasn’t ugly. huh, i do remember that,” you began to think. 

  spending time reminiscing with your mom momentarily distracted you from the anxiety you felt, waiting for the evening to come. jungkook did end up texting you, asking if you were coming down to the saloon for the birthday surprise. you looked away and closed your eyes when you pressed ‘send’ on the confirmation that you would drop by.

  the idea made you nervous only because it had been so long since you went out and met new people. there was no such thing as free time in your old life and you really only maintained surface-level friendships with your coworkers in your last year of the job.  however, knowing amber valley and the tight-knit community, it was only a matter of time before you got acquainted with everyone, whether you liked it or not.

  by the time it was six, you’d forced yourself to get changed and inspected your outfit several times before leaving. the last thing you wanted to do was stand out too much. so, you put on your favourite denim jeans and a plain long sleeve top, putting away your go-to strappy stilettos for the night. 

  making your way into town was quick and soon enough, you found the pub situated in between the flower shop and the hardware store. it definitely looked like it’d been around since your mom was a little girl, the exterior siding showing age with chips here and there. 

  “hey y/n.”

  you jumped, having not paid attention to your surroundings. turning around, it was taehyung holding a box adorned in magenta polka dot wrapping. he wore a similar outfit to the one from the day before, except a different cowboy hat. you wondered if there was a store in town that specialized in selling just these hats.

  “hi taehyung. is this for jin?” you offered a smile, gesturing to the box.

  a pleased grin formed on taehyung’s face. “yup. i’m pretty sure i got him the best gift out of everyone, but don’t tell anyone.”

  he walked ahead of you and opened the door, pausing. you realized he was opening it for you and you quickly thanked him, going right in. small town hospitality. 

  it was saturday evening, but to your surprise, there were hardly any patrons in the bar. taehyung then pointed to a sign by the door, which you missed completely. it read: ‘private event, invite only.’ 

  “oh, wow, am i v.i.p?” you joked, following him to the back of the room, where a stack of presents were grouped on one table. 

  “of course! you’re jungkook’s friend, after all,” he exclaimed, setting his box down with the others. “you guys go way back, huh? how long has it been since you guys since saw each other?”

  you counted in your head. “i think twelve or thirteen years. a while.”

  “what, no facebook back in the day?” he teased.

  “no, he was never nearly fond of that. after i stopped coming for the summers, we lost contact completely.” you couldn’t recall any attempts for continued communication afterwards, other than your grandpa offering updates here and there about him. “we used to write, but i don’t know what happened. . .”

  for a while, you wondered why jungkook never wrote you again after you stopped coming to the valley. admittedly, looking back, it hurt your preteen self that he never tried. but, eventually, you moved on and left jungkook in your childhood.

  taehyung nodded slowly. “so. . .you didn’t know about what happened?”

  you already knew what he was talking about and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “no. i felt really bad about it.”

  “it’s okay. since i moved to town, i’ve really admired jungkook. if there’s any sort of pain, he hides it really well for the sake of others,” he said, leaning on the wall.

  that sounded like the jungkook you remembered. he was always the type to put others before himself, no matter how small the issue. then, you began thinking about jiwon.

  “taehyung, can i ask you something?” you suddenly said. “jiwon. she’s only nine. and jungkook doesn’t have any other family. . .”

  the smile at the corner of taehyung’s lips was sad. “yeah. jungkook is her primary guardian and has been since he was nineteen.”

  the answer seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and you had to take a second to take it all in. there were so many questions that formed, floating around your head and you couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any of them. before you could even try, you jumped again at the sudden appearance of two new individuals, one of them being jungkook himself and forced you to put away your thoughts.

  “we’re behind schedule, did yoongi put the cake in the fridge?” this new person was turned to taehyung, carrying a case of beer. “we need - oh, hi! y/n! i totally remember you, i heard you were back!”

  you’d never seen someone with such energy, exhibiting positivity like a ray of sunshine. it seemed like he was genuinely delighted to see you. taking a closer look at his features, you recognized him to be jung hoseok - jungkook’s next door neighbour. he put down the case in his hands and immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

  “hoseok, hi!” you winced, trying your best to hug him back, but it certainly made you burst into a giggle.

  he was the first person to remember you on the spot, which took you aback. a few years older than you, you weren’t as close with him as you were with jungkook growing up, but he was always around. you remember him as the big brother who showed you and jungkook the cool ‘older kid’ shows and games that your parents would have never let you watch at that young age. 

  “how have you been? you look so grown up! you’re really staying here for good?” the questions were rapid-fire, one after another.

  beside him, jungkook was smiling, but tapped hoseok to bring him back into the main conversation. “hyung. hyung! we’re behind schedule, remember?” he groaned, but grinned wider when you met his eyes. “nice to see you, though, bunny. really glad you came.”

  “oh, right.” hoseok quickly let go and cleared his throat, beginning to point to each of you with authority. “you, taehyung. go help jimin with the slideshow. namjoon has the pinata.”

  pinata? how old was this jin person, was he one of jiwon’s friends?

  “you, jungkook. jin said he’s five minutes away, we need you to distract him for a bit longer.”

  “can i help?” you piped in, feeling a bit out of place. “i mean, i’m here as a last minute guest, i’m happy to help in any way.”

  hoseok clapped his hands together in glee. “thank you, y/n! go help jungkook distract jin, you being there will give him a reason to yap on. let’s go team!” he raised his fist in encouragement and in the blink of an eye, he already dashed off. 

  at this, jungkook seemed unfazed and frankly, so were you. you remember hoseok’s personality to be like this - extremely vigorous and could never sit in one place. on the other hand, taehyung looked perplexed as much as he appeared amused. he only shrugged, picking up the case of beer that hoseok clearly forgot.

  “let’s go team, i guess. i’ll see you guys in a bit!” taehyung chuckled, walking off.

  you were expecting to be asked to move around chairs or help bring out food. this wasn’t quite in your cards. you turned to jungkook in confusion, who chuckled at your expression.

  “come follow me.”

  he led the two of you back out the saloon, hands in his jean pockets. the early summer air was stunningly humid and coming outside was like hitting a muggy and sticky wall. but, there was one thing that couldn’t be replaced.

  you couldn’t help but stare up at the sky, a fixed gaze. “you can really see the stars when you’re in the valley.”

  the stars, dotted across the night, twinkled and smiled down at you. it was a view that others only romanticized and dreamt of in carefully crafted paintings and poems made to move the soul. and now, this dream was your new home. 

  jungkook mimicked the way you tilted your head up, lost with his own gaze. “i’ve lived here all my life and i never get tired of it.”

  “i can’t believe i forgot about this. . .” you trailed off.

  he pointed out to the sky. “that one is ursa major and you can see - “

  “ - the big dipper,” the two of you said in unison, which led to a shared laughter. 

astronomy was one of your biggest interests growing up, having stacks of books and a tapestry of the night sky in your childhood bedroom. your bedroom in the farmhouse also had a shelf full of astronomy books, which your grandpa still kept until his passing. having ignored the task of organizing and arranging your new bedroom, which was the same room you occupied over your summers in amber valley, you made a note to go through this shelf when you arrived home.

  jungkook said, “you’re the one that taught me about that,” he turned back to you. “you actually used to randomly quiz me on constellations, it was really stressful.”

  you could see your younger self sitting on your grandpa’s porch steps with jungkook, who lazied on the hammock across from you. you would compile actual multiple-choice questions and threw pebbles at him whenever he got an answer wrong. eventually, your grandpa scolded you for that, so you changed your weapon of choice to toy balls.

  “i guess my lessons paid off, though,” you bantered.

  following this, you heard a person shout jungkook’s name. you looked over and saw a man walking in your direction. he was tall and handsome and his smile was inviting. a little too handsome, he reminded you of models you’d seen in high fashion ads. his clothes contributed to the image, a patterned short sleeve button down and t-shirt that gave off neat and put-together. he wore jeans like what seemed to be 90 percent of the town, but you noticed the luxury brand belt. 

  “oh, seokjin!” to this, jungkook nudged you, as if signalling for you to be ready for something.

  this was jin? the birthday boy with a pinata? he had to be around hoseok’s age.

  “hey! hoseok told me to meet him here, have you see him?” seokjin began looking around. “he is working tonight, right?”

  “uh, did he?” jungkook’s tone was not convincing and you couldn’t believe the hoseok made such a horrible liar be the distraction. “i think he is, want me to call him?”

  “um, yeah. he said he was returning something he borrowed from me.” seokjin looked at him strangely. “why don’t i just go inside and check? why are you just waiting out here?”

  “this is y/n!” jungkook suddenly blurted out, seemingly having no way around the conversation. his smile was painful and avoided making eye contact.

  your eyes went wide and seokjin turned to you, having not realized there was another person in his presence. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there.”

  “yeah, hi, that’s me. y/n.” this time, it was jungkook looking at you like you were the least convincing person in the world. you cleared your throat and offered a handshake to seokjin.

  seokjin didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness and took your hand. “it’s really nice to meet you. jungkook actually told me a lot about you!” it was subtle, but you could hear jungkook groan. 

  you raised your eyebrows at jungkook. “oh, did he?” 

  “you guys grew up together, right? and you’re taking over the old farm?” 

  although you could tell right off the bat that seokjin wasn’t from amber valley, his deamanour was just as welcoming and friendly. he asked you a few questions about where you’re from and how settling in was. 

  “i’m sure you’ll be a natural. it sounds like you already have a lot of experience!” seokjin exclaimed and his positivity gave you genuine reassurance. “we’re all friends around here, so don’t be shy to reach out if you need anything.”

  “thank you,” you replied.

  jungkook tried to regain his composure. “seokjin runs the bakery down the street.”

  “yeah! my wife and i used to buy eggs from your grandpa all the time, hopefully we can keep doing that,” seokjin winked at you. 

  then, the front door of the saloon cracked open just enough for hoseok to poke his head outside. there was no sign of activity from the inside, with the lights now off and all voices coming to a complete silence. 

  seokjin tilted his head slightly when looking at hoseok. “there you are. are you. . closed? the bar is closed on a saturday night?” he asked.

  “yeah, uh, plumbing issues,” hoseok’s eyes darted over to you and jungkook. “y/n, jungkook! what brings you here around this time of day? you should all come in!”

  despite the growing skepticsm etched on his face, seokjin glanced over to you two and shrugged. he followed his friend’s gesture to come inside. 

  you mumbled to jungkook, “you and your friends are all terrible liars.” to this, jungkook stifled a laugh and playfully jabbed his elbow into your arm. 

  hoseok opened the door wider and seokjin went in first, while you and jungkook trailed after. you were surprised at how well they made the interior appear deserted, with not a single soul in sight. you did noticed that they even stacked the chairs on the tables, as if the establishment was really closed.

  “by the way, hoseok is the manager of the saloon,” jungkook leaned into your ear and whispered. 

  the floorboards creaked with every step, only adding onto the heavy silence in the atmosphere. seokjin looked around, eyebrows furrowed. he cleared his throat, hoping to cut the awkward tension.

  seokjin started, “so, y/n, what happened with you and ju - “

  “surprise!”

  all of the lights flickered on and filled the room. upbeat music turned on suddenly, causing seokjin to jump and yelp. two dozen or so people popped out from random places - underneath the booths, from behind the walls, and from behind the bar. balloons and streamers began spilling out from out of nowhere.

  “happy birthday seokjin!” everyone yelled in unison.

  you awkwardly tried to join in once you caught onto what everyone was saying. despite that, the high energy ended up engulfing you and you couldn’t help but smile. some of the boys started throwing streamers at seokjin, while namjoon appeared from under the bar with a lit chocolate cake and began approaching the birthday boy in question.

  “thanks, y/n!” hoseok nudged you, as everyone began singing to seokjin. “it’s exciting that you’re around again!” 

  as the song concluded and seokjin enthusastically blew out his candles, you cheered along with everyone else. over the cheering, jungkook found his way to you again. he raised his hand, offering a high-five, which you immediately accepted.

  something about the atmosphere unlocked something inside you. within days, you were welcomed into the community and for the first time in a long time, saw people that could become your actual friends. maybe this was what your grandpa was talking about.

  “yeah,” jungkook added, “it is exciting that you’re around again.”

  “real connections. . .” you muttered to yourself, remembering the contents of your grandpa’s letter.

  the yelling got louder, as the partygoers chanted for seokjin to make a speech. “huh, what did you say?” jungkook shouted over the chanting. 

  “nothing!” 

  you weren’t prepared for the next part of grandpa’s wish for you. it was a surprise to you that you were able to ease into the town and become comfortable connecting with the people around you. at the end of the day, though, you had a farm to run and you were about to face the worst of it. 

  viii. the second storm

your grandpa’s last wishes for you were to reconnect with people and nature. nature. you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.

  “oh my god! why does mother nature hate me?!”

  the best thing about living in a big farmhouse by yourself was the fact that you could make as much noise as you wanted. you often found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs, shrieking like a bird when you came across anything frustrating. considering you were learning an entirely new job on your own, it happened quite often.

  you screamed into the void after your first phone call with a vendor, who kept on asking you if you knew what you were doing. you swore you almost broke your vocal cords when you sunk into the mud the first time you checked out the fields after a rainy night. at least you walked away several metres from the coop before you screeched in agony after the chickens gave you a hard morning on time. 

  when a soft knock on your front door interrupted your emotional breakdown, your heart stopped. 

  “fuck!” you whispered to yourself.

  who would be visiting you? what if it was someone important, like mayor kim? maybe they didn’t hear - no, they definitely heard. 

  you tentatively approached the door and took a deep breathe before swinging it open.

  “i didn’t know you started tending to hyenas on the farm.”

  it was jungkook with a lazy, shit-eating grin. it was early in the morning, about 8am, and he wore workout clothes. baggy grey sweatpants and a white nike tank-top, you felt like you were straining to keep your eyes on his face and not anywhere else. 

  “oh, shut it. good morning to you, too,” you shot back. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

  “sorry, i would’ve texted, but i was already passing by on my run,” jungkook said.

  it’d been about a week since you last saw him, though he was nice enough to check in on you every once in a while to see if you were doing okay with the farm. you hardly left home, used to the same routine of working and going right to bed everyday from your old life and the habit was hard to break. 

  he continued, “anyway, i saw your windows hanging from outside and i just wanted to make sure - “

  you opened the front door wider for him to see the state of your front entryway and his jaw dropped. there was water everywhere on the floor. the storm from the night before was aggressive and the age of the house couldn’t stand it. you didn’t anticipate for it to be this bad, having just shoved the windows closed before you went to bed.

  “yeah, they’re wrecked,” you sighed, looking over to what was left of it, considering most of it was on the ground. “actually, that’s why i was screaming.”

  “you know, i take what i said back. totally justified.”

  “thanks,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. he made a gesture as if to come in and you obliged, carefully stepping aside and making sure you weren’t stepping in a puddle. “i’m surprised this hasn’t happened before.”

  he let out a low whistle, as he walked inside and took in the sight of your floors. “honestly, me neither. you would think this would’ve happened already ages ago.”

  you didn’t know what else to do but shrug. “i can handle it.” despite your words, you certainly could not handle it. there were still a million things you had to take care of around the farm and dealing with broken windows and water was an incredible burden that you didn’t know where to start.

  “shit. look, i have to go to work in a bit, but let me help you out,” jungkook said. 

  you instantly shook your head. “jungkook, no. it’s fine, really, i got it.”

  “you’ve never picked up a screwdriver in your life.”

  “hey, you don’t know that!” you wanted to slap him upside the head like from when you were kids, but found the strength to refrain.

  it was only jokes and jungkook’s smirk showed it, but his tone then became serious. “okay, then, at least let me help you fix your windows. dude, you live alone in this big ass house on this big ass farm. just say yes.” 

  at this point, you could tell he was exasperated with your stubborness and you laughed at it. you weren’t one to turn down someone offering to do manual labour for you, but you were hesitant to show any lack of indepdence. though, something told you to say yes and it wasn’t jungkook’s annoyance with your persistence. 

  “okay, fine. you’re real annoying, you know that?” you had to add in the last part, it was only natural. 

  he shook his head. “thank you - oh, how lucky i am for milady to accept my lousy, peasant self to fix your windows!” at that, you shoved him playfully and when he barely moved from your push, jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. 

  “i know you’re perfectly capable of doing things yourself, by the way. you just shouldn’t have to all the time,” he gave you a pointed look. 

  you nodded slowly, looking down at your feet. “thank you, jungkook.” 

  though it was only 8 in the morning, you decided to take a later start in the day, since you usually woke up at the crack of dawn. you had your entire day ahead of you and what felt like a hundred things to do and the last thing you wanted to add was a trip to the hardware store.

  “of course,” he carefully tiptoed around the water, moving back to the front door. “it’s what friends are for. i’ll come by tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”

  this is not what you meant when you decided to “reconnect with nature” at all. with your fluffy indoor slippers soaked in rainwater, you were certainly more than connected with it. you made a mental note to visit the beach and call it a day, hoping that would fulfill your grandpa’s wish for you to be one with mother earth and that the forces of nature would leave you alone after that.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822 @seokoutt @firelcrds @taiwan0618

[thestarlightforge]

Why “I’m Billy Maximoff” Mattered to Me — A Queer Disabled Person’s Journal

10/17/24

***

Call it silly if you like. But I feel actually healed. Because these stories, they’re not just “superheroes”—they’re modern mythology. They’re how we teach each other and our children who deserves a place in the world.

When I watched WandaVision, like a lot of people, I identified with Wanda’s grief/depression/trauma journeys. And of course saw myself in the queer kids she gave a loving home, more so the more Young Avengers books I read. But with the WandaVision versions of Billy and Tommy in particular—more so even than the comic books—I also read into it the disability/childhood terminal illness allegory. It’s something on Schaeffer’s mind while writing them—leaked audition tapes from actors not cast as the boys revealed as much—even if it didn’t occur to all the viewers.

But I wasn’t supposed to live, either. Wasn’t even supposed to be born.

I don’t talk about it a lot because it’s hard to talk about. But when my mom was pregnant with me, doctors in Tennessee (pro-life peons they claim to be; it’s all an act) tried to get my parents to late term abort me, all because of a genetic condition they suspected I had—which I don’t even have lol, turns out I had a different handful of impairments, but anyways. A lot of people with the genetic conditions I DO have die within two hours of being born. My whole childhood was spent ducking in and out of hospitals, I had eleven major surgeries and almost died a dozen or so times before I turned twenty… I am so pro-choice it’s insane, but I was one of the “inspiration porn” kids that white, southern Republicans used in their crusades, screaming their “pro-life” BS at the Democrats who gave MY mom the right to choose my life.

I know. It’s WILD.

All that to say, though: It hit me in a particular place when Wanda married her trans husband, had queer kids who the entire world screamed at her (either weren’t real or) shouldn’t have been allowed to live, and then believed in them and loved them. With her everything. Thanked her queer, disabled kids for the honor, for choosing her to be their mom. (And Multiverse of Madness asked us to hate her. It baffles me to this day.) She didn't give up on them, did everything in her power to rescue them on the faintest hope they had survived (calling out for help in the Darkhold), even as some of the most powerful mages on SEVERAL worlds gaslit her for years... And when the gaslighters finally convinced her they were right, she destroyed the artifact that could be used to hurt anyone like her boys ever again.

For years, since Schaeffer had to relinquish creative control to the Multiverse of Madness team, I have felt that “the only creator amongst my favorite stories who feels like I belong has had to let us go, and the people who follow her don’t even believe we deserve a chance… we’re crazy, imaginary, and the world is better off without us.”

A slam-the-door narrative, Doctor Pandemonium & Avengers: Disassembled come again, the likes of which Byrne & Bendis would be proud.

But Agatha is an anti-hero/anti-villain story about ALL misunderstood, outcast people who deserve a second chance, no matter what the world may think.

The fact that Billy’s story in the MCU is now a meta-commentary on that publication history narrative… That Schaeffer took the episode to say, “I don’t know how many times or in how many different ways I’m gonna have to spell this out for y’all, but Wanda’s kids are HERS. They are and were REAL. They have their OWN SOULS and they BOTH DESERVE to FIND THEMSELVES and FIND LOVE and LIVE.”

I can’t think of a better way to have honored us. 💙

“It’s nice to see you again, Billy” 😭

(for the record, Agatha saying this totally genuine and with tears in her eyes—she will never be a villain to me, not ever again 💜🖤)

Thank y’all for listening. ❤️

This one’s for Tommy 🥹💚

[cancerian-woman]

it really made no sense to me that hope was such a powerful witch and didn't have a witch mother. I am very interested in hearing about how your hope and bonnie similarities thoughts as well`

I can’t find my old posts right now or I’d tag them lol.

That’s why the “first-born-Mikaelson” trait was created to explain Hope’s witch side. In TVD Esther’s “powerful” moment consisted of leeching off the Bennett’s as a bloodline and praising their hard work. The entire reason Esther was brought back was because of Bonnie/Abby. The tailsmen that gets passed around initially belonged Ayana. I cannot stress this enough if Esther had 7 kids and only 2 were witches the gene was not the strong. I know it’s many debates on if the Mikaelsons were untapped witches but that wasn’t confirmed to my knowledge.

I assume they didn’t want Phoebe playing a witch again after TSC ended. Instead, we have Hayley saying multiple times she did not know what to do about Hope’s growing powers. Klaus was already a hybrid with an unexplored werewolf side. Sure, he used it to enforce power but we’re shown he didn’t hate it.

Hope is book description Bonnie without the curly hair. White, short, powerful and has red hair. Legacies has a running gag about Hope being the tiny tribrid. Coincidentally Danielle & Kat are the same height. I just thought this one was funny.

Both fall under characters that were born into the supernatural world. While we see Hope’s birth and a confirmation she was a witch(later tribrid). We don’t get an explanation of why Bonnie started practicing later in life when the witch-gene is prominent in all Bennett women. Throughout tvd as we meet other witches they knew during infancy or early-childhood.

Bonnie fights forcibly to use her powers to save everyone else even at the expense of herself. In Legacies Alaric’s reasonings for wanting Hope at the boarding school was expecting her to be the protector to his daughters. Both Bonnie and Hope hold the responsibility of wanting to save everyone and feel devastated when by the possibility of not saving everyone.

I’ll give you an example outside these parallels: Bonnie letting her friends pass through her knowing it was killing her as the anchor for their survival. Hope choosing to die and become the tribrid so the malivore could stop killing people. Bonnie stopping hellfire from destroying Mystic Falls. Hope taking in the hallow from her relatives saved NOLA even though it was killing her. It’s more than that but I’d be listing things all day by that point. Those two women are sacrificial as they are strong women. Look at this here.

It’s a reason why people choose to compare Hope to Bonnie more than her own relatives or her mother. This isn’t a jab to Hayley but the plots focused too much on Hope’s witch-side. People find joy in trying to humble Bonnie as a witch. As I said here the fanbase wouldn’t have been as accepting if Hope’s mom was of color or even if Hope was biracial.

But if she was I’d nominate Bailey Bass in a heartbeat

[genericpuff]

re: your tags on the rowling / musk post, specifically villains on saturday morning cartoons > wondering why we hate those who emulate it

idk if you ever played toontown, but i’ll always find it hilarious that disney released a game all about fighting big corporations from taking over small businesses, where the enemies (aka cogs (in the machine)) are all named after idioms / insults for types of corp employees (i.e. pencil pusher, ambulance chaser, big wig, loan shark, cold caller); esp considering disney is the Perfect example of the types of corporations that the game teaches you are evil and soulless. honestly, it’s a game i hold near and dear to my heart, and i recommend trying out toontown rewritten if you ever feel like it

i have NOT played toontown but i remember seeing the commercials for it all the time at like, the end of DVD's n junk and REALLY WANTING TO PLAY IT but ofc we didn't have a computer most of the time growing up and when we did it was hooked up with dial-up that my parents always got really clutchy over (idk if this was just a circumstance of the time period but like. did anyone else have a parent who acted like it was a life-or-death scenario if they missed even a single phone call ??? because my folks definitely did LOL) so something like toontown was just not in the cards LOL but I didn't know Toontown Rewritten was a thing so... maybe it's time for me to make another one of my childhood self's dreams come true (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

but that is really ironic, it's wild (and sad honestly) how so many accomplished writers and creators can become disconnected from what they originally represented and wrote about through... the disillusionment of fame and wealth i guess ??? or maybe it was just mold on the walls the whole time ?? 💀😆 i mean shit even rowling herself told a story about a boy literally living in the closet who finally escaped and went on to fight against an organization of literal fucking wizard nazi's, and yet now she seemingly missed the entire point of why kids resonated with her books so much and why they saw it as an inspiring message of hope and acceptance and love and persevering and standing up against literal fucking fascism ??? hello ???

actually there was a great video i watched a while ago about how despite the messages we took away from those books growing up, the HP books were also completely manufactured through the lens of capitalism, like not just as a franchise but on a narrative level. def give it a watch because it really kinda blew my mind and opened up a whole new perspective on the series for me LOL

[lemonsharkgirlfriend]

alicent, a woman who’s been stripped of all power and agency and has no sway or influence amongst the green council, should have concluded her liberation arc by… coming to the understand that her mistreatment within this patriarchal system pales in comparison to the love she holds for her sons (one of whom she’s disowned in 1x08, the other pre-2x01), and she should have used the power (that she doesn’t have) to continue to support the green claim (that she doesn’t believe in). she should have thrown away her own feelings of (freely chosen) love for rhaenyra, knowing these feelings ‘don’t actually matter’ (they do), and just, again, sacrifice her body, mind, and mouth for her sons (who she 1. doesn’t believe in and 2. knows do not have her own or helaena’s best interest in mind). the driftmark scene (that alicent verbally expresses regretting and which otto tries to manipulate her into believing was justified directly afterward) and alicent standing in front of meleys during aegon’s coronation (yet another example of alicent sacrificing her body to otto’s cause that she’s been manipulated into believing is her only purpose) are definitive proof that alicent should have become a scorched earth mama bear in season 2 that should have not have had any conflicted feelings about her sons’ unnecessary violence and total ineptitude at ruling the kingdom because… the ends (i.e., aegon being in the throne… which she doesn’t believe in) justify the means. alicent could have just used her voice (again, the one that she doesn’t have in this version of the story; let go of book!alicent) to sway her sons’ policy if they were trying to do something she didn’t agree with, and otherwise, she should have just let them do what they wanted to secure the green claim (that alicent doesn’t believe in). turning to rhaenyra (alicent’s only reference for freedom and chosen love) after concluding her liberation arc is out of character (it isn’t, alicent has chosen rhaenyra over her children several times) and doesn’t make sense (i’m just going to assume you weren’t paying attention to the plot, dialogue, set design, editing, costuming, etc., that suggested alicent was seeking out rhaenyra throughout the entire season, starting with her moving into rhaenyra’s childhood bedroom before the season even began). alicent is dumb (sure, i’ll give you that) for trusting rhaenyra (she can’t trust her own sons either, and arguably, to a greater extent). alicent should realize her love for rhaenyra is no longer relevant (it is and always will be, as expressed by the writers about… one million times) because she should care more about her sons (that she doesn’t support anymore and that she cannot control) than her own happiness and securing safety for helaena/jaehaera (her children/grandchildren that she’d like to see no harm come to). also, exploring alicent’s motherhood (alicent ‘switching sides’ still does this lol) would have been more interesting than exploring her repressed queerness/lesbianism (i mean idek know what to say to this bc how the hell do you think this isn’t interesting and novel and worth exploring). ultimately, i have another version of alicent in my head (book!alicent) that i wish had been adapted instead (totally valid opinion to have! though you ultimately shouldn’t project book!alicent onto show!alicent because they have been fundamentally different characters since the very beginning), so i’m going to pretend alicent going to rhaenyra in 2x08 is bad, unpredictable writing (instead of something those ‘annoying shippers’ had been theorizing about since before the season even began because the clues were literally there, even that early).

[golbrocklovely]

outsiders // colin and penelope

A/N: i know this is unlike anything i've posted before on here. i'll be honest, idk how else to explain this other than i direly need to see luke newton play a vampire, so this is about as good as it's gonna get until then. this is also very vaguely based off of a tweet that said this picture of polin makes them look like a cunty vampire couple and you know what??? they ain't wrong about that lol i used direct lines from the show, particularly in the drinking scene with the boys and the carriage love confession (which will be in part two). there are also some quotes and line sprinkled throughout that are similar to those in the show/book. but most of the dialogue is not from the show/book directly. also this is the first time i've ever written a fanfic using characters rather than real ppl… well minus a spn fanfic i never finished. so, please be kind since it's all fiction anyway. hope you enjoy and lmk what you think :)

prompt: Colin is trying to deal with the fact that he is not only in love with his best friend, but that he is incredibly lost as to who he is as a person. It also doesn't help that he's a monster; a vampire. Pen just wants her freedom, her ability to be Whistledown without anymore people finding out. And in her mind, Debling is the solution to her problem. But one fateful night brings Penelope and Colin together in ways they never imagined.

trigger warning: jealous!colin, protective!colin, AU!vampire, the entire bridgerton family are vampire, colin's friends are dicks lol, formal english (but that's a given), vampire powers, manipulation, ANGSTY AS HELL, idiots to lovers (not until part two), somewhat of a cliff hanger but not really since the next part will be out soon, mentions of blood/blood drinking

word count: 3054

~~~~~~~~~~~

Colin knew deep within himself that going out with Fife and the rest of his so-called friends was a mistake. Mostly because his mind was preoccupied tonight, many thoughts swirling around him; all of which pertained to a certain red head he had known since childhood. The mistake was thinking that he could relax while being around these exhausting men and their childish ways.

However he really did need some revelry after what he witnessed during the day.

When he walked into the library party and caught Pen with Debling, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, his blood boiled. A permanent frown etched into his face and had stayed there the entirety of the day.

"Say, what ails you, Bridgerton? Are you not enjoying your night?"

Colin turned to Stanton, blinking slowly. He took a swig of his drink, shaking his head. "I am well. Please continue with your story."

Stanton smirked, turning back to the table, "On my Grand Tour, I encountered this Greek girl in the Balkans. My bear leader..."

Colin zoned out again, unable to truly listen much longer to the men's stories of different conquests they had over the summer. His mind was still reeling, his thoughts ever consumed by the image of Penelope. Of their shared kiss. Of his constant reoccurring dreams of her and him. 

"She sounds like the young woman who made my time in the French Quarter worth the length of the voyage. Much to offer upstairs, and I do not mean her mind." Lord Wilding motioned with his hands, causing all three men to burst into laughter. Colin sighed, staring at the ground for a moment.

Fife looked up at Colin, "What about you, Bridgerton? You were gone for quite a while. I am sure the girls of summer made your trip quite... fulfilling?"

The gentlemen chortled, and Colin could feel them all eyeing him, waiting for an answer. "I did tell you my story of the contessa, did I not?"

"Yes, but you did not give details." Stanton whined.

Colin half-heartedly smiled, "Well, a gentleman must keep some things to himself."

Wilding pffted, "Oh, come now. I do not see a gentleman amongst us."

"I concur with you there." Colin shook a finger at them. The gentlemen gave him a quizzical look, freezing him for a moment. "Oh, forgive me… But it is tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?"

Colin gazed upon the men, hoping to see agreeing eyes; but instead the table chuckled at his expense. He sat back in his chair, defeated.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Featherington girl, now would it?" Fife teased, his glazed eyes staring at Colin's face.

"You know, Bridgerton? Congratulations are in order. I heard that apparently Debling plans to propose to her." Stanton raised his glass, "The marriage mart whisperer actually made a match. Cheers."

"May God have mercy on that poor man's soul." Wilding whispered, finishing his drink.

Colin narrowed his eyes, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know you have a fondness for the girl, but I cannot fathom what type of wife she would be. I would never marry a Featherington, but especially Penelope." Wilding remarked, almost disgusted.

"Maybe that's why Debling plans to travel for years." Fife quipped.

"Well, like your lady in the French Quarter, she at least has a lot to offer upstairs." Stanton snickered.

Colin leapt to his feet, his chair slamming to the floor. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides as his anger raged through him. His red eyes shot up, glaring deeply into the gentlemen's souls, captivating them instantly.

"You will never speak about Penelope or the Featheringtons ever again. And if ever asked about them, you will say nothing but the kindest of words." Colin grunted, his gaze shifting from man to man, "If I ever hear you speak badly about her or her family again, I will tear your throat out with my teeth. Your trivial existence will be ended, and the ladies of the Ton will be better for it... Know this as true, but forget I said this."

The gentlemen blinked rapidly, clearing their throats and looking at each other confused. Fife glanced behind Colin, "What happened to your chair?"

Colin smoothed out his vest, calming himself, "Oh, it must have fallen over when I stood up. Goodbye gentlemen, I am growing rather tired of this night."

~~~

Colin had the privilege of being born a vampire; and with that privilege came the ability to manipulate those around him. However, there were only two types of people he couldn't manipulate: other vampires - which really only applied to his family since he knew of no others - and those he was in love with. That applied to all the Bridgerton siblings. It was their own little family quirk, as they so lovingly called it. In a way, it kept everyone in check. Because they knew out of everyone in the Ton, the people they loved couldn't fall victim to their ability.

But luckily for everyone in the Ton, the Bridgertons were a good family. Violet had taught her children to seldom use their ability, and the children all followed suit. Hyacinth and Gregory did occasionally use it on the maids in the house, so that he could get extra sweets or she, the latest issue of Whistledown before bed; but for the most part all of the Bridgerton siblings fell in line with Violet's beliefs. 

While most of the Bridgertons enjoyed being vampires, Colin did not. Maybe it was because he was battling with himself over who he truly was. All this did was make him feel even more like an outsider. He wanted to be normal, to be known and loved for who he is, but how could he? He was a monster.

And now this monster, deeply annoyed by the past couple weeks of events, was on the search for blood.

Colin did not enjoy hunting. In the day, when he couldn't hunt, it was easier to forget what he was. But at night, his cardinal urges always came to the surface. 

Hunting on the poorer side of London wasn't challenging. There was always someone out and about. And Colin only needed a little bit of blood. None of them ever killed; the rule was only take what you need and leave no trace. And they were all excellent at that.

The worst that could happen was being caught by authorities. Or even worse, somehow ending up in Lady Whistledown.

Colin lurked around a corner, waiting impatiently for a passerby. He glanced at the printer shop, the light inside telling him someone was there. He needed to move further away, in case those inside would hear his victim if they were to scream out suddenly.

He casually walked down the cobblestone street, his sense of smell picking up someone near. It was a woman; that he was sure of.

He knew he should have just drank from the prostitutes, the ones he couldn't even bring himself to sleep with tonight. But he didn't like the idea of drinking from them. They oddly had shown him kindness, something he couldn't even acquire from his friends.

A woman rounded the corner. She was young, and her dark black hair was slightly unkempt. Colin rushed over to her, their eyes meeting instantly. The only sound she was able to make was a small gasp.

"Don't be scared, Miss . This will be over quickly. I'm just so...." he swallowed hard, "hungry."

Colin cupped the woman's face, turning her head so her neck was more on display. His fangs grew, his mouth watering at the thought of blood. Her pulse had quicken when he rushed her, her blood now calling his name. He sunk his teeth in, moaning as the liquid poured into his mouth. He closed his eyes, his thoughts shifting slowly back to familiar ones...

Penelope. 

He hated admitting it, but he had wanted to drink from Pen. His dreams not only consisted of touching her in the most inappropriate ways or confessing that their kiss was all he thought about; it was how he longed to bite her neck, taste her salty skin and rich blood. He knew she would be heavenly, but he never allowed himself to ponder on it too long. These were fantasies after all. She would never, ever find out what he was. And he would not damn her to a life like this.

He groaned against the woman's neck, lapping up spilt blood. Penelope was haunting him, even in real life. How was it that he could smell her, even right now? Even with his mouth on a different woman's neck, drinking her life essence, was he able to feel Pen's presence? It's like he could hear her say his name.

Colin glanced up, the printer shop illuminating the archway leading onto the street. A short person stood frozen, watching him. 

He froze too, his eyes focusing on the figure. The woman in his arms slurred incoherently. His eyes connected with her for a split second, telling her to forget what occurred and to go home. He pushed her off down a separate street, his eyes remaining on the silhouette.

He took a whiff of the air, his eyes widening.

The person ran the opposite way, racing back towards a carriage nearby. Colin made it there long before they could, grabbing them by the shoulders and pushing them up against the wall. His hand covered their mouth instantly, staring deep into the blue eyes he was captivated by since childhood.

"Penelope?"

~~~

Penelope had known the Bridgertons were vampires for years. While she might have met Colin first, Eloise had been her closest friend; mostly because it took Pen a while to really strike up the courage to actually talk to Colin. But when Eloise and her were young, outside and playing in her mother's garden, El casually told her what she was. At first, Pen didn't believe her. Who would believe such a thing without proof? El suddenly waltzed up to a butler nearby and told him to start doing a dance for her, and he did. The girls laughed at the sight, and from that moment on, Pen knew.

She never asked questions, but she was curious as to what vampires were really like. El wouldn't confirm anything to her, understandably wanting to keep some things private. And once Lady Whistledown rose to power in the Ton, El was even more hush about vampirism. Pen could tell she was nervous about her family's secret getting out there. But Pen assured her that Whistledown would never write on such a thing, otherwise she would become the laughingstock of Mayfair.

And now with El completely ignoring her because of Whistledown, she hoped that El understood that statement still rang true. While she would write about what everyone was talking about, no one but her knew their real secret. She would never share it, even if her and Eloise were no longer close.

The carriage came to a stop, the footman opening her door swiftly. She stepped out, the newest addition of Whistledown in her hand. She smirked as she read it over, noting how many in the Ton were speaking on her and Debling's possible engagement. While Pen did not enjoy being the center of attention, she did enjoy knowing that the sniveling mamas of the Ton were wrong about her.

Not only was Penelope courted, she was going to get married. That is, assuming she accepted Debling's proposal. Or that he actually planned to ask her mother tomorrow.

A life with Debling seemed... fine, to her. And if that's all she could get, she would take it. She wanted a love filled marriage, that was true; but maybe time would change that. It's possible that Debling one day might love her. Or that she may grow to fully accept what she had.

Part of her hated admitting it, but her feelings for Colin were still there too. But she accepted that reality as a fantasy and nothing more. Somehow, vampires were real, but Colin reciprocating her feelings wasn't. 

God had a very wicked sense of humor.

She walked down the street, turning the corner to the printer shop. When she raised her hand to knock, something caught her eye. She gazed down the street, two figures stood out in the open. It appeared to be a man and a woman. She squinted her eyes, watching them. The man cupped the woman's jaw, burying his face into her neck. Pen blushed at the notion. She had thoughts similar to that of her and Colin. Dreams, even. But to see two people doing something like that, so out in the open, was very scandalous to her. She wanted to look away, but curiosity got the better of her.

The couple swayed into the light unintentionally, and Pen's eyes widened.

The man's mouth was latched onto the woman's neck, and she was limp in his arms. It almost appeared like he was biting her. As she took in the man, she noted his dark brown coat. His tall stature and quaffed hair were familiar to her. It almost looked like...

"Colin?" She whispered.

The man looked up, locking eyes with Pen. She gasped, seeing his face for the first time. Dear Lord in Heaven, it was Colin. His mouth was stained red from blood and his fangs were prominent, even from such a distance away.

Her heart raced, and she knew she needed to get out of there, now.

She spun on her heel, running back to the carriage. Before she was able to get remotely close, her body was pushed up against the wall, her mouth covered.

"Penelope?" Colin hissed, his red eyes almost glowing in the dark.

She studied his face, taking in the features she had yet to see of him. His eyes were the most surprising, but his fangs were shocking up close.

"I am going to remove my hand. Please don't scream." He moved his hand slowly, her face feeling hot from his skin touching hers. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Colin." Pen argued.

"It is none of your concern, Pen. Whatever you saw..." Colin fought to speak, "was not what it looks like."

Pen suddenly became aware of the Whistledown papers in her hand, "Well, if that's the case, then I should be heading back home."

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you-" He began.

She cut him off, trying to sidestep him. "Colin, I need to-"

"What is that in your hand?" He questioned, pointing down.

Her blood ran cold. "W-What?"

Colin grabbed the papers from Pen's hands before she could stop him, her heart dropping instantly.

He gazed at the papers, reading over the words hastily. She backed up, her body hitting the wall. His stare hardened, eyes watering. "You're... Whistledown."

The hurt in his eyes, his voice, made Pen instantly tear up, "Colin, please I can-"

Colin backed away from her, "I cannot believe this. How could you?"

Pen wiped away her tears, "I am terribly sorry, Colin. Please let me expl-" 

"No, no. I do not want your explanation. What is there to explain? Clearly you are the one who has been writing such horrid things about my family. I cannot believe you would do this to us. To El." He choked out, "To me."

She begged, "Colin, let me explain myself."

"On top of being Whistledown, you come out here in the middle of the night to do your dealings. Unchaperoned, and presumably with no one knowing where you are. You could seriously get hurt! Not only could you ruin your reputation, but you could be harmed. How can you be so careless, Penelope?" He furrowed his brow, his eyes boring into hers.

Pen hated being talked down to. Who was Colin to act so scared for her safety, or her reputation for that matter? He was a vampire, for God's sake. She spat, "The only thing out here that seems to be harmful is you, Colin."

She knew she made a grave mistake. Damn her mouth.

Colin's eyes glowered at her, his body tensing. "What did you say?"

"I-I," Pen took a moment, gathering the courage to speak. "I saw you, Mr. Bridgerton. You weren't simply... caressing some random woman on the street. You were feeding on her. You're a vamp-"

He glared into her soul, demanding, "You are going to forget we had this conversation. You are going to forget what you saw moments ago. You are going to go home. Now."

Pen copied his gaze, shaking her head. "Who are you to tell me what to do? Have you gone mad?"

This was a terrible time to find out that Colin was, in fact, in love with Penelope. He knew he was, but the timing of it all really could not have been worse.

Colin growled, walking up to Pen's carriage door and opening it for her. "Get inside, Penelope. We will talk about this on the way back to your home."

"How can I trust to get in a carriage with you? Are you still hungry?" She sassed, her hands on her hips.

He lowered his gaze, his eyes darkening. "Do not make me force you inside."

Her skin felt hot suddenly, his tone hitting deep within her body. She had never seen Colin like this, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Her mind was cautious, nervous. But her body... felt something else entirely.

She sighed, stepping inside her carriage with the help of Colin. He followed her in, sitting across from her. He called out to the footman to go to the Featherington residence.

"Take the long way, please." Colin sat back against the seat, staring at Pen.

"Make a stop at the Bridgerton's house first... please." She called out. The footmen acknowledged their commands, and Colin rolled his eyes at her petty attempt of control. She squirmed under his gaze, unable to make eye contact with him.

He asked bitingly. "Should you start or should I?"

|| Part 2 >>

[littleadaline]

The Original Version of Us [P.G6]

[Childhood best friends to lovers trope]

Warnings: light swearing methinks, slight sexual content

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I got this idea after watching a TikTok slideshow about Barça boys’ romance book tropes. So I had the idea to turn them into prompts. Hope it lives up to y’all’s expectations lol.

—————————————————————————————

It all started at the age of 5. Your mom had taken you to the playground of your hometown. You hadn’t been there for long, your family having moved a year prior. You were a shy child, often found hiding behind your mom’s back. You remember it as if it was yesterday. The blistering Spanish heat, the suffocating air, yet, you felt at ease. Your mom sat on the bench as you ventured deeper into the playground. It wasn’t uncommon for the children of the neighborhood to spend their entire days there. As you walked into the sea of children, you lost sight of of your mom. Confused by the swarm of people, you started panicking. On the other side of the swings, a young Pablo Páez Gavira was staring down at you. He had never seen you there, nor had he seen your face in the neighborhood.

“Are you lost?” He asked you, his voice trembling from shyness. He was dressed up in a football jersey, his hair ruffled up from the sweat on his forehead.

“Yeah. I can’t find my mom.” Gavi took your hand.

“I’ll help you look. C’mon. My name is Pablo by the way. What’s yours?”

Together you walked the lengths of the playground, ultimately passing by the bench where you had last seen your mom. Unbeknownst to you, your mom was engaged in a deep conversation with Gavi’s mom, panic spread on her face. When her eyes caught the sight of you and Gavi, her eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. She ran to you, dropping to her knees as she engulfed you in a sudden hug. You remember her quiet sobs as she looked up to the sky, thanking the universe you were unharmed.

“Pablo, where have you been?”

“Perdón mamá, but Y/N couldn’t find her mom, so I stayed with her. She’s very nice. Can we invite her to play?”

“Um, Gavi that’s very nice of you, but it’s ultimately up to Y/N’s mom.” His mom calmly explained, looking back at yours.

“I’m sure we can arrange something.” Your mom said cheekily. While the adults exchange their phone numbers, you and Gavi sat down on the bench, feet hanging in the air.

“Are you new here?” Gavi broke the silence.

“Yeah, we moved here last year. You?” You pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Born here. Do you like football?” You saw him shift in his seat.

Before you could answer, you had to say your goodbyes, sadly waiving to your newly made friend.

“I’ll see you again, right?” You yelled from the car, window down.

“Yeah!” Gavi answered back.

A few days had passed, your encounter with Gavi still etched in your mind. For some reason, you refused to let the memory of him go, clinging onto the hope of seeing him again. It was a Saturday morning, you were barely awake when the doorbell rang. You heard your mom rush to the door, before greeting whoever was at the front door. A woman’s voice and a boy’s voice could be heard… as well as a girl’s voice. Curious, you peaked your head towards the front door, catching sight of a small brunette head. Looking up, you recognized Gavi’s mom. Before your mom could call you, you emerged from your hiding spot.

“Pablo! You’re here!” You embraced your newly made friend.

“Yeah! Your mom invited us for breakfast. Oh, and that’s my sister, Aurora.” He pointed at the girl hidden behind his mom.

“Hi! Do you like dolls?” Aurora nodded before you grabbed her by the hand and led her to the living room where your toys were sprawled out.

After that day, the three of you became inseparable. Every weekend, you spent it at each others’ house. You had grown to be used to Pablo and Aurora’s presence. With the passing years, your personal schedules grew to become more and more busy, but you always made the efforts to see each other. Until Pablo left for Barcelona, and soon, the weekly visits stopped. You stayed in touch through your parents, or Aurora’s daily updates, but even those became less frequent. For a few years, you would only catch up with the Páez Gavira’s at Christmas and Easter time. That was, until you each fell into the rabbit hole that was technology and social media. You and Aurora’s bond strengthened. When came the time to go to university, you decided to move to Barcelona, with the plan to bunk with Aurora until you find your own space.

TODAY:

“That was the last box.” You huffed, sitting down on your newly built couch.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off. 14 years of friendship later, and we’ve moved into an apartment together.” Aurora handed you a glass of sparkling water. You thanked her, leaning back into the couch.

“You sure you don’t mind me drilling a few holes into the wall for the picture frames?” You asked her.

“Yeah, it’s entirely fine. By the way, Pablo is staying the night. His neighbours have apparently turned into sex beasts and he doesn’t want to stay at Pedri’s because his family is visiting.”

“Pablo… Pablo’s visiting?” You shot straight up, gently choking on your drink. “Um, when, I mean, what time? I look horrendous, my lord.” You hand brushed through your hair.

“Yeah, why do you look like you just saw a ghost-” You ran to your bathroom. Locking the door behind you, you took a quick glance at your reflection. Your cheeks were flushed at the mention of Pablo. Aurora’s knocks on the door brought you back to reality.

“Y/N! Why did your cheeks turn red when I mentioned-” Aurora’s voice fell silent on the other side of the door. “Omg… You have a crush on Pablo. I knew it! I knew it!” She cheered on the other side of the door.

Aurora left you to collect your thoughts. Giggling to yourself, you took care of yourself, wiping away any sign of stress and sweat from loading boxes on and off the truck all day long. You were finally done when the doorbell rang, Aurora having left the premises long ago. You smoothed down your sweater and glanced in the mirror one last time before opening the door. Gavi was dressed in a simple white t-shirt, some light wash baggy jeans and a pair of Air Forces, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey.” You softly greeted him. Gavi looked you up and down before going in for a hug. Surprised, you almost pulled back, but melted right into his embrace. It had been some time since you last saw each other face to face, yet he looked as good as ever.

“Hey. Congratulations on the move.” He said, taking off his shoes and putting them on the shoe rack.

“Thank you!” You chuckled. “I finally got the last box delivered today. Bunch of picture frames and shelf decor.” You pointed to the box. The air was heavy, almost too thick to breathe.

“Do you need help with the picture frames?”

“Um… Yeah, why not. Let’s get it over with,” You bent down to open the box, feeling Gavi’s eyes trail from your back to your ass. “Um… Do you know your way around a drill? Or at least a hammer?”

Gavi’s eyes diverted from your ass back to your face. You could swear something had changed in the way he looked at you. It was softer, kinder, more sincere.

“You know what, um, I will go grab the drill, you just take the pictures out of the bubble wrap.” You blurted out, running to the utility closet you and Aurora kept. Closing the door behind you, your let out a sigh of excitement…giggling like a schoolgirl. Allowing yourself to let these emotions out, you swiftly grabbed the drill before joining Gavi back in the living room. Sitting on the couch, he was admiring the pictures displayed in front of him.

“I didn’t know you kept that one.” He said, a picture of his 13th birthday in his hand. You were both asleep on their old couch, your head slumped on his shoulder as he embraced you. You sat down next to him, reaching out for another picture.

“There’s also that one.” You handed him the picture your mom took on Christmas Eve, 4 years prior. It was a group picture, but Gavi had his hand on your waist while your hand was around his shoulders. Everyone was looking at the camera, except you two, too busy looking at each other. Soon enough, you abandoned the idea of hanging the pictures, prioritizing a trip down memory lane instead.

“I remember last year’s annual summer cookout. Your mom accidentally switched out the smoked paprika for cayenne pepper. Safe to say the meat was…” you laughed uncontrollably. Gavi stifled a yawn, his eyes drawing tears. “Oh gosh, it’s getting late.” You said, looking at your phone.

“I think Aurora told you I’d be spending the night.” Gavi yawned once again, this time dragging you into a yawning contest. You saw a glimmer of malice shine in his eyes. “I have an idea. The next person to yawn, has to tell a secret to the other person.”

“Deal.” You stifled a yawn. “Starting now. Let me show you the guest bedroom.” You got up, leading Gavi to the guest bedroom Aurora had previously set up. “I’m gonna go wash my face and brush my teeth, let me know if you need anything.” You told him. After you finished your routine, you went back to the living room only to be surprised to find Gavi laying down on the couch.

“Pablito, everything okay?” He perked up at the childhood nickname. He had changed into a sweater and some grey sweatpants. He sat back up, patting down the spot next to him. You sat down, allowing your body to be swallowed by the couch.

“Do you wonder what our friendship would look like now had I not moved to Barcelona?” He blurted out. You were taken by surprise. The two of you had a handful of deep conversations, all of which happened before the age of 15.

“Of course I do. I mean, I used to. Why do you ask?”

“Something about seeing our old pictures. It got me wondering what our friendship would have looked like had we stayed close-” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “Shit. I lost our deal.”

You chuckled at his reaction. Leaning further into the couch, your eyes glazed over the details of his face. The light stubble; his plush, pink lips; his furrowed eyebrows… His face hadn’t changed much, you could always recognize the little kid you had befriend all these years ago.

“You have to spill one secret, Pablitooo.” You teased him.

Gavi hid his face in shame into the throw pillow. You could make up a slight shade of pink tinting his cheeks.

“Fine, fine. Come closer,” You scooched closer. “A bit more.” He guided you by the shoulder. You were so close that you could feel his breath on your face. Your eyes subtly shifted to his lips before establishing eye contact again.

“Um.. Okay. I hope I don’t fuck things up.” The familiar pink tint spreading again on his cheeks. “Close your eyes.”

You closed your eyes, and it was a second later that Gavi shyly placed a kiss to your lips. You leaned in, your hand finding a way to his neck, bringing him closer. Gavi let out a breathless moan as his hands pulled you onto his lap, his hands now resting on your waist. Gavi broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses, eliciting a string of broken moans from you. Your hands found the nape of his hair, slightly tugging, pleasure taking over. Had you known that moving into Aurora’s apartment would have you making out with your best friend, you would have done it sooner. Pablo pulled away, his eyes blown with lust, his lips glossy from your heated make out session.

“I… I really like you. I wanted to tell you sooner, I don’t know why I didn’t.” He confessed to you.

“I really like you as well. Have so since we fell asleep on your couch on your 13th birthday.” You leaned back to steal a kiss. His hand rested on your lower back as you worked on leaving a few love bites on his neck.

“Be my girlfriend. Let me shower you with the love you deserve. Let’s give ourselves a chance.” Gavi begged you.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You leaned back in for a kiss, Gavi’s arms carrying you to your bedroom as you shed your clothes.

The next morning, Aurora woke up to find the guest room empty. Gavi’s things were still in the apartment but he was nowhere to be found. That was until she followed the trail of clothes and opened the door to your bedroom, only to find you guys entangled and naked from last night’s activities. Letting out a shriek, Aurora woke you up. Panicked, you covered yourselves in a hurry, dressing up before apologizing to Aurora for walking in on this sight. Glancing at one another, you knew you’d do it again if it meant being pinned under Gavi while he made you scream his name.

[restinslices]

Ive seen your Lin Kuei Brothers hc about movie reactions and they re hilarious. I watched Mean Girls the other day and thought about their reaction watching it. I bet Bi-han would stan Regina lol. What do you think?

This is short because tbh I don’t really see them liking it😭. I added a little Drabble cause this took so long.

Although the idea of him being a Regina George stan is conical, I don't really see him enjoying movies like Mean Girls 

I'm not sure what movies he'd like or if he's more of a book guy, but Mean Girls is campy fun about highschool drama. I just don't see him being interested 

I'm not sure any of them would really be interested in it honestly. Mean Girls isn't just a girls movie but these are men who are in their 30s-40s and just don't give me Mean Girl stan. Yk?

I just don't see him liking it at all. He's checked out the entire time and when he's told it's a classic, he doesn't understand why 

It's not the worst movie he's ever seen but it's not his favorite. He'll never go out of his way to see it again 

A party pooper fr 

I don't think he'll be like “this shit is ASS!” because you like the movie but I can see him being like “well it was certainly a movie”

I don't know😭. I wanna say he'd like it, but it doesn't seem like his vibe. I'm sorry 😔

“Did you like it?” You asked once the movie was over. The answer? No. Honestly, halfway through the movie he completely checked out and if you hadn't announced that it ended, he wouldn't have noticed. 

“It was a movie” he answered simply. He went to get up from the couch but you grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. A random spout of strength that contrasted how sad you looked. 

“You didn't like it?” 

“I'm in my 40s”

“So?”

“So, it isn't for me”. Your frown deepened and he couldn't understand why. It was just a movie. He could understand why you liked it. It had childhood memories attached to it. He didn't have any memories attached to it, so to him, it was just a movie. 

“You suck ass” you finally said and crossed your arms. “I'm watching it again”. 

“Have fun with that”. 

I don't think he hates the movie but once again, I just don't see any of them truly appreciating it 

Teenage drama to him just isn't exciting. He's older so when problems arise he starts giving logical answers 

“How does Cady not see that she's also becoming a mean girl?”

Because that's the point of the movie Kuai 

He'll watch it maybe a few times with you if it keeps you happy

In canon he has a wife so I'm sure he knows that sometimes you gotta endure for them

I think his favorite character, if he had to choose, would be maybe Karen because she's just tryna live life based on my memory 

He's glad he understands the references you make now 

So there's positives  

Not his cup of tea but he likes that you like it 

“This is a classic, you say?” Kuai Liang asked. He meant for his tone to come out friendly and curious, but in reality it came out unsure and a little judgmental. Unfortunately for him, you noticed. 

“Shut up! You didn't like it?!” he couldn't understand why you were so surprised. He liked some movies but the movies he liked were nothing like Mean Girls. 

“I didn't say that”

“I cannot believe you. We're gonna watch it again until you like it”. Kuai Liang was tempted to get up and go do literally anything else, but when you snuggled close to his arm, he figured there was no harm in trying again. As long as he was close to his favorite person. 

I can see him being the brother that understands the message the most 

For some reason people debate on who's actually a mean girl. Whether it's Regina, Cady, Janis, ect. 

Tomas can see that multiple characters are mean asf

Now once again, I don't see this being his cup of tea, but hate is too strong of a word 

Dislike is too strong of a word 

The movie is just eh to him. It's just a movie. He won't suffer if he watches it but he'll never choose to watch it on his own

I can see him lying about how much he enjoyed it so he ends up watching it a lot more than he wants to because you keep putting it on 

Even if this isn't his favorite movie, he definitely thinks the first is better than the sequel 

That shit was ass 

Mean Girls is entertaining. The sequel… no❤

He watches it with you because it lets you spend time together. 

Honestly you could put on a shitty booty ass movie like Teen Wolf (2023) and he'd watch it if it kept the two of you together 

“Sooooo… thoughts?” You leaned back in your seat and look over at him with hope and happiness in your eyes. He internally winced. How could he destroy that shimmer in your eyes?

“I loved it!” he lies. His heart swells in his chest when you clap your hands together and give him a toothy grin. By the Elder Gods… you were far too cute for him. Now he certainly couldn't tell you he didn't particularly care for the movie! You'd look so sad. 

“I'm so glad! We should get matching pink shirts! We can wear them on Wednesdays!”. Tomas kept his forced smile on his face. Internally, he wasn't sure what can of worms he opened. All he knew was that it was too late to close it back up. 

“Sounds great” he mumbled. “Maybe we can watch the sequel I've heard about”. Why did he keep talking?

You scoffed. “Sure. I guess we can suffer together”. 

Suffer? Oh boy… 

[nevernonline]

✧.* sweet disposition; hjs

the innocence of youth, isn't it blissful? your youth was your childhood crush, joshua. a pretty boy from your hometown who became your best friend.

✧ paring: non-idol! joshua x fem! reader

✧ genre/s: high school crush! joshua, f2l.

✧ word count: 4.0k

✧ warning/s: swearing, kissing, some smutty scenes, mentions of substances (alcohol&weed mainly) mentions of illness, minors dni.

✧ note/s: sweet disposition by temper trap is one of my all time fav songs, and i was watching old sytycd episodes for my soul and when I heard it I knew I had to write a silly little fic. also def unedited so sorry. atp I'm just making a svt song series. lol. ily.

When he first met you in high school Joshua knew he liked you, something about your soft smile and ease of fitting into every social situation made him want to be your friend.

You were a transfer student from a public school into his much more prestigious private one and almost automatically fit in with everyone.

He admired you for that, but it wasn’t until the first year of knowing you passed that he realized he loved you.

You were sitting on a bench watching him and his team practice for a big lacrosse match, well not exactly watching the boys play and run around the field. But, sitting on a bench reading one of those romance novels you loved, like Wuthering Heights or some Jane Austen novel. Something about them made you invested in reading, Joshua tried, but he couldn’t shake the fact that someone in a period romance is dying of the plague or having a maid clean out their chamber pot before the rest of the royals arrive.

He was distracted by you more than ever that day. your glasses were changed into contacts, your legs longer, and your hair plaited into braids on each side of your head tied together with matching blue hair bands.

You felt your ears burning as you looked up from your novel, finding Joshua standing in the center of the field as the opposing team members scored a goal on his side and celebrated, but he was stuck. Stuck in a moment of noticing you before the coaches whistle dragged him out of his dream state.

He never confessed his feelings for you, not yet. He didn’t want to seem selfish now that you weren’t the nerdy girl he once met, but a girl transitioning into her own womanhood. Well, at least on the outside.

Time seemed to pass whenever you were with him and suddenly he realized it was the start of your senior year, just like that Joshua was back dreaming about asking you to the homecoming dance, a dance that you helped organize.

Joshua had an entire day planned to ask you on your first date, he would come over carrying a bouquet of flowers, carrying a dress in your favorite shade of blue, and him in his matching suit. He made dinner reservations and even made a book of things he loved about you, like your own Austen novel just from him.

When he rang your doorbell, a familiar face answered, but it wasn’t yours it was Soonyoung from his lacrosse team, dressed in a white suit adorned with a red sash, a sash he came to find out matched your beautiful long dress, and even the small flower placed in your hair.

A missed chance, now he looked like a fool standing in your doorway, but he lied. He just lied and told you that he needed your help asking someone else to the dance. Aside from the book he made, all the effort he put in for you was wasted on someone else.

After all was said and done, Joshua was happy you ended up going with Soonyoung. You were smiling, laughing, and dancing with someone who deserved your happiness. He was a nice guy, as nice as you were.

The book that Joshua made for you was still in his closet at his parents house, just like the rest of your memories together.

A few days later his flight landed on the route back to you. Stepping off the plane a gush of warm air and the smell of peaches hit his nose, something about it felt like you and that stupid peach flavored lip gloss you always wore.

Joshua looked around the airport feeling that maybe you would be here too, but he knew that you were off with your friend celebrating her birthday for the next two nights.

His mom pulled up on the curb in her black suv, greeting him with a comfortably tight hug and a small peck on the cheek and he was home.

He tried to ask her about you, maybe seeing if she had any information on where you went or if you were single, but she had no idea. She just told him to be patient and ask when he saw you.

After two days of going around to all of his old favorite places, some closed or turned into boutique clothing or vape shops, he still was met with the emptiness of not seeing you yet.

On that second night at home he met up with his friends and some of their significant others at a new bar that just opened a few months prior, to catch up and also to distract him from you, just for one night at least.

A few hours went by and his buzz grew stronger, he felt guilty he hadn’t thought about you most of his night, but why should he?

Soonyoung took the open space on the red leather couch next to Joshua and sat down two shots of tequila, a ritual for the two of them to keep their buzz going.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Shua? You seem sad.”

“Uh, nothing I guess I just missed being here. I miss you guys.”

“Aw, we missed you too, but I don’t think that’s it. What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen y/n yet, I’m nervous I guess?”

“Of course. You had the biggest crush on her, sorry for taking her to that dance.”

“No, it’s okay. I just- Well, I guess it’s dumb to be nervous. We still talk every day, but I just haven't seen her in real life in too long. It’s just weird I guess.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

“I don’t know, maybe. She’s probably just moved on from me.

“Is it eating you up inside? Wait, that's a dumb question clearly it is. You think she’s dating someone?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t think so. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“Na, last time I saw her she sat in the corner of the room on her phone the whole time texting you.”

“Really? See, she doesn’t even tell me when she goes out to parties.”

“Are you that jealous? You know y/n, she’s not like that, Joshua, stop getting weird and in your head about it.”

Soonyoung handed Joshua his phone that was placed face down on the table and then handed him a shot of liquid courage.

“Call her, ask her out. Don’t be a bitch.”

“You're right, thanks Hosh.”

Pulling up your contact information on his phone, two rings in you picked up, clearly half asleep from just getting back home.

“Shua? Hi, sorry I got home an hour ago. What are you doing?”

“Oh my god, sorry I woke you. I was just calling to see if you wanted to hangout tomorrow? I was thinking maybe Leslie’s for lunch and then the arcade or something?”

“Yeah, should I pick you up or meet you?”

“You can meet me, if that's okay? I’m going to a church thing with my mom, I’ll have her drop me off.”

“Sure, I’m going to go back to bed now okay? I promise I’ll be less tired tomorrow, Love you.”

“Okay y/n, I’ll see you then, okay? Sleep good, love you.”

“Oh, and Shua.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let Soony give you too many shots okay? Save some alcohol room in your belly for me.”

“I promise, night angel.”

“Night, loverboy.”

Joshua’s nerves were beginning to get the best of him as he walked into the dim light of the italian restaurant and informed the host that he was here meeting his friend, as he was being ushered to the back he saw you seated at a small corner table, lit with a candle, wearing a slick black top and a pair of matching pants, a simple denim jacket was placed over your shoulders shielding you slightly from the air conditioning.

“Hi.”

You got up from your spot against the wall and greeted Joshua with a big hug when your giggles filled his ears realizing you were both dressed in nearly the same outfit.

“I see you got the memo, Joshua.”

“I see you still copy me after all this time.”

Gesturing for you both to sit back down, he noticed how casual you were after all this time spent apart, possibly just as a front knowing soon he’ll be back to teasing you once he snaps out of his awkwardness.

“So, how's your dad? Is everything okay?”

“He’s alright, he’s been in remission for a few months now.”

“I’m happy to hear that, really. I always loved your dad.”

The waitress came over at a perfect moment, a chance for Joshua to collect his thoughts and place an order for a bottle of wine to calm his quick heartbeat.

“So you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I’m too busy with med school and taking care of my dad to date, you know that. What’s with the weird questions? You want to know the next time I’m supposed to be on my period too? You sound like my mom.”

“Sorry, I just-”

And just like that, the waitress made her second entrance, bringing along the bottle of red liquid and your two meals, delaying Joshua’s chance once again to ask you his set of weird questions.

He let the moment pass while the two of you ate in silence and each had a glass to ease the awkward tension now lingering over your table.

“So-”

You both spoke up at the same time, you decided to let him finish his thought first.

“Okay, wait I just thought of another question. Why did you take Soonyoung to the dance and not go with me?”

“Because I had a crush on him, duh.”

“No way you had a crush on him? He used to pick his boogers and wipe them on his jeans.”

“I’m kidding. He was just a good friend, I was too shy to ask the guy I wanted so I asked him instead.”

“Who was the guy? Jun from your biology class? He was cute.”

“No, he was cute. But, this dude's name was like Joshua Honk or something, not sure if you knew him.”

“You had a crush on me?”

“Obviously, but you’re kind of a fucking idiot.”

“Okay, well how do you feel about me now?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in years and you're asking me what I think about you?”

“Yep, I need to know why I was your secret sexy crush.”

“Disgusting.”

“I’m waiting.”

You looked Joshua up and down, his hair was longer than normal, his eyes still big and wide, catching every glimmer of light inside of them like a cluster of stars, his lips were turned into a toothy smile. He was perfect.

“I think you’re okay.”

“Just okay? Damn. Whatever.”

“Want to take some dessert to go? I think we have some unfinished business.”

Waving over the waitress and paying your bill as she picked up your box of tiramisu, you and Joshua ran down the streets where you grew up to the very arcade you’d spend hours in after school.

“Okay, the winner gets what? I think we’re betting with more than tickets these days.”

“Well, y/n. I’m glad you asked. How about if I win, I get to take you home with me and if you win you get to take me home.”

“Seems like we’d both be getting what you want out of it.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be with your super sexy secret lover, Shua Honk?”

“Win, and you’ll find out.”

“You’re on, but I’ll warn you I’m very good in bed.”

“Horny and sarcastic and horny very interesting combination for you, Honk.”

“Shut up and play.”

After hours of playing multiple games around the arcade you and Joshua were tied and his anxiety had been eased, all that stood between him and winning was a game of ski ball, a game which you were notoriously bad at.

“Need help with your game, y/n?”

A nod from you made Joshua push his chest against your back and wrap his arm around your waist, the other one held your hand helping you aim the ball on the black trackpad, a pull of your hips backwards into his sent a strong vibration down to your panties, that were now as wet as the saliva burning in your mouth.

“50 points? Not bad for a rookie.”

“You threw me off.”

“You really think you would’ve won even if I didn’t help you?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so distracting, yes.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“What? By thrusting into my ass?”

“I didn’t thrust? You pushed your ass into me?”

“No, I did not, you clearly made contact first.”

“Okay, well then that was a practice round, prove you can win with no help. I'll buy all your drinks tonight and if you lose, open your wallet, rich girl.”

“Fine, try to control the friend in your pants, loser.”

Joshua wanted to respond with some sarcastic remark not promising anything from the way he was watching you bed over to roll the ball from behind, but he decided to shut up and let you win, he wouldn’t have you paying for him anyway.

“You let me win, but I will be taking the drinks.”

“How did you know?”

“You threw the ball backwards twice to skip your turn, you’re good at many things but subtly is not one of them.”

“Okay, but still let me buy the drinks.”

“You were always going to pay anyway, I’m not wasting my cold hard cash on you, california boy”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

Walking into the familiar dive bar you spent many late nights in after studying, you were hit with the sweet smell of beer and the crunching of peanut shells under your feet. You caught a glimpse of Joshua looking around at the various world flags on the wall.

“What? Not fancy enough for you?”

“No, I love it. I didn’t even know this was here?”

“Yeah, my dad told me about it. He comes with me sometimes to watch soccer, it’s cozy.”

“Sit down, I’ll go and order what would you like?”

“Just grab me a beer, maybe with a lime wedge?”

“And a shot?”

“Ugh, fine Joshua but I do not want to be responsible for carrying your drunk ass home.”

“No promises.”

Joshua strolled up to the wooden bar, greeted by the big man with facial hair behind it and placed the two matching orders, a shot of tequila and a beer with lime.

“You’re here with y/n?”

“Oh, y/n? Yeah, you know her?”

“I know her dad, good man. You her boyfriend?”

“No, just her friend. Nice to meet you..”

“Alan.”

“Alan, hey. I’m Josh.”

Alan shook Joshua’s outstretched hands and denied his card from being swiped for the alcohol.

“It’s on the house, if you’re friends with the y/l/n’s you’re friends with me. Enjoy and treat our girl well, if you’re the Joshua she tells me about, then I hope she gets her happy ending.”

“Wait what does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing you can’t figure out for yourself.”

Walking back over to your small bar table, Joshua decided to take the spot directly next to you in the booth and not across the table, maybe to hear you better and maybe so he can figure out what Alan was putting down.

“You met Alan?”

“Yeah, he told me to take care of you.”

“He’s protective, he normally scares the weird drunkards away from my table."

“I’m playing your bodyguard tonight, cheers.”

Throwing back your shot, you tried to calm the burning taste of alcohol from showing on your face, Joshua held up a slice of line to your lips and let you bite down on it before placing it between his.

“Ew, why didn’t you just use your own lime.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Want to kiss me that bad huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

You slapped his arm, taking a swig of your fresh beer.

“It was a joke, be quiet.”

“I do want to kiss you.”

“Oh, right. Okay, save the jokes. You don’t have to tease me for my crush anymore. I get it.”

“Do you still like me?”

“ I probably always will. At least some part of me. Why do you ask?”

“ I don't know, I asked you before what you like about me so do you want to know what I like about you?”

“My body?”

“No, but that doesn’t hurt. I like how kind you are. I like that everyone who meets you falls in love with you instantly because you’re so charming. I love that when you laugh or cry too hard you start wheezing a little bit because you’re embarrassed that someone could see you like that. I love that you, even after all this time, have the nicest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

A tear fell down from your eye, and Joshua’s long finger came up to cup your cheek, wiping it away with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry. I just missed you.”

“You know I have something for you, it’s old but I've never had the chance to give it to you.”

Joshua pulled the brown leather bound notebook from his bag that had a laminated front titled ‘ The Girl from Nowhere.’

“What is this? Did you write a book?”

“Remember the night of the dance when I showed up at your house?”

“Yeah, when you needed me and Hosh to help you ask Suki?”

“Right. Well, I was actually there to ask you, but I saw Soonyoung and I couldn’t. He’s too good of a friend and you were happy. So, I lied. I actually had a dress for you to match me and this book. I wrote it for you because you were so obsessed with all those books, so it’s your own Austen novel.”

“You wrote me my own romance book?”

“Yeah, it’s outdated now, but it ended with me kissing you after the dance.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was the most thoughtful thing he’d ever given you or anyone for that matter.

“Joshua, this is so nice. Seriously, when did you even have time to do this?”

“My mom gave me the idea. You and her always watched Pride and Prejudice together, she has the same taste. So technically it’s co-written by her, but she gave me all the credit.”

“Wow. I don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Okay, then I’ll be right back. Give me like two minutes, don’t move.”

You peeled yourself off of Joshua and strutted up to Alan to ask a favor before running back to your table.

Suddenly the only lighting in the room was coming from the sporting matches on the flat screens and a few neon branded signs as a song Joshua hadn’t heard in years played over the speakers, Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap.

“Joshua Hong, will you do me the pleasure of dancing with me?”

“You’re so corny.”

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me. Let it happen.”

As the song rang through the speakers, he wrapped his hands around your lower back and pulled you in tightly, swaying you to the perfect song to describe falling in love in his youth, with the only person he ever pictured by his side. His own version of a romance novel.

You pulled away slightly as the beat got faster and grabbed his hands, running around to the other patrons in the familiar bar, crushing sounds of peanut shells under your feet.

Suddenly the whole bar was dancing along with you to the sound of nostalgia, even Alan was behind the bar top swaying along and singing into a broom.

It was this charm, the charm only you had to get the entire group of people dancing along with you.

After the song ended Alan handed out a round of shots and you took back your respective seats.

“Thank you, y/n.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“You made a weird childhood dream of mine come to life, it’s stupid, but it’s the truth.”

“It’s not stupid. And you did the same for me so it was only fair, want to go?”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

“I know, but there’s somewhere else we have to go.”

“Are you okay to walk?”

“Honk, I am not the lightweight here. I should be asking you that.”

“I am not a lightweight.”

“Okay, stand up.”

“Give me one second.”

“Exactly. Come on.”

Waving goodbye to Alan and the rest of the team at the bar, you pulled a very drunk Joshua down the old streets of your hometown, until you reached the best park bench in town.

It was older than both of you and maybe even your parents, carved with names and years of all the couples who sat right here. It was your favorite spot, even as a kid.

You and Joshua have a countless number of photos together on the very wood you sat upon now, staring at the calm sight of the nearby lake.

“Remember when we ditched that weird one year reunion party to come sit here?”

“Yeah, you had a joint that some weird guy dressed as a hotdog gave you.”

“Yes, it was someone that knew Soony, not sure why but his nickname is Dino? We just sat here all night and smoked it. So, I may have gotten his contact from someone and picked up a couple.”

“Y/N you did not.”

“Yes, it’s in my purse. I’m not letting you smoke it though, you’re too drunk. So it’s just a prop, but-“

Out of your small leather bag, you pulled a perfectly rolled joint and held it up to Joshua's face.

“I thought it’d be funny to bring one, that was the first time I ever took a hit so it’s special.”

“You know most people have their first kiss on this bench, not their first joint.”

“I had my first kiss in sixth grade at a roller rink, this is more important.”

“A roller rink? What the hell.”

“Yeah, a story for another time.”

Joshua grabbed the brown wrapped object from your hand and pulled a match box from Leslie’s out of his pocket.

“For old times sake?”

“Fine, but you really need to stop talking like you're in your eighties.”

With the strike of the match and the smell of sulfur hit your nose and the flame between you ignited. A corny thought, but it was the truth.

Taking in a large inhale and holding it in your lungs before passing it off to Joshua, you sat and stared at the blue water.

“By the way, I like everything about you just so you know. I was being stupid before. I think you’re maybe the only person in the world I’ve ever trusted.”

As the flower kept passing between you, Joshua scooted closer, resting his hand on your clothed thigh awfully close to the crease of your pelvis.

“Me too. Not about myself, about you. Tonight proved to me that moving back was the right choice.”

“Wait, you're back for good? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Would that have changed tonight?”

“Yeah, I would’ve probably been in your bed by now. I was too scared to confess how I felt. But, fuck I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

Choking on the cloud of smoke in his lungs, Joshua stuck the small roach of the joint in his pocket and kissed you.

“Does that mean I can take you home?”

“I don’t fuck on the first date.”

“Classy girl, I like that.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“I love you too.”

“So when’s the second date? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, come sleep over on the couch and we can go for breakfast.”

“The couch? Like a dog?”

“ My dog sleeps in my bed.”

“Kick her out for one night, I reserved the spot first.”

“Okay, let’s go. No funny business, Honk.”

“Can we brainstorm a cuter nickname, I don’t know like Hunk?”

“No, Honk stays. Let’s go to bed.”

Holding hands and kissing at stop lights on your way, he was back and you were never letting him go again.