#this is my first attempt at this sort of thing please be nice <3

[seedlessmuffins]

neymar jr x “the death of a young son by drowning” by margaret atwood

the death of a young son by drowning (margaret atwood); the adults are talking (the strokes); je te lasserai des mots (patrick watson); death of the phone call (whatever dad); neymar jr: "the created football, but brazil is the country of football" (gq magazine, 2021); neymar "cried" after new foot injury (besoccer, 2018); neymar reveals how his 2014 world cup back injury almost ended his career (cbs sports, 2017); neymar - part 1: the skinny kid who grew to greatness from the streets to fc barcelona (barca blaugranes, 2015); a soccer prodigy, at home in brazil (ny times, 2012); neymar: barca complete £49m signing of brazil striker (bbc sport, 2013)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight. 

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.  

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it.  It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing. 

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness. 

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.  

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date. 

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles. 

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk. 

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags. 

“Oh, cool, want me to come?” 

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list. 

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands. 

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him. 

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one. 

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away. 

“Nice day,” he says. 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. 

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart. 

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say. 

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.” 

“Oh, alright.” 

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you. 

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.” 

“In the grocery store?” You challenge. 

“It’s cute.” 

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.” 

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims. 

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar. 

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee. 

“Need some help?”  

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America. 

“Uhhh...” 

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?” 

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat. 

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.” 

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart. 

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.” 

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people. 

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.” 

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else? 

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle. 

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word. 

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed. 

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

[staticbleeding]

⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars⋆。 °⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

The second part!! I was not expecting so much love on my first post on this account! I am so happy y'all enjoyed the first part! Enjoy this <3 warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2

1972 After the night at the pawn shop, Ford hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. It is starting to become painfully obvious. Especially to Ford's twin that has to hear all the midnight ramblings. Will he have to help his brother out, or will fate help Ford himself?

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Ford's POV

I wake up to Stan's snoring. Pushing my glasses onto my face, my feet touch the ground beneath me. I rub my eyes and start to regret not getting much sleep. Looking up at the clock on the bed side table, my heart drops. I'm gonna be late.

"Wake up Stanley. We are going to be late if we don't leave in like 30 minutes! I can't miss the first block", I say as I shake the sleeping man above me. His arm lays down off his bunk.

"Fuck off Sixer we can be a little bit late"

"Stanley it's not going to happen." I say as I stumble out of bed and pull my neatly folded clothes out of the dresser and begin pulling them on.

"Sorry you only get a chance to see your little lover in class man, but ain't no way I am getting up after you kept me awake all night". Stanley grumbles and rolls back over in his bed.

"Please Stanley.." I reluctantly beg my sleeping brother

With a loud groan Stanley jumps off the bed and starts putting on his clothes from the floor.

"Thank you". I sigh out and rush to the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast before we leave.

"Morning dears! You two slept in didn't you?" Ma cheerfully asks as her arms cradle the youngest of the Pines, Shermie.

"Yeah Ma," Stan runs out of our room yelling and leans down to plant kisses on our brother's small head, " Fordsy wouldn't let me get anymore. Couldn't miss out on seeing his little lover." His elbow pokes my side before grabbing his favorite snack.

"Stanford! You didn't tell me you have a little (girl/boyfriend/partner)! I am your mother!" Ma laughs out.

Looking down at my feet I stutter out, "Not exactly.."

"He's too.. s-scared to ask t-them out." Stan poorly attempts to mock me. A loud booming laugh comes out of his mouth.

"Quit it Stanley. I am sure your brother will get the courage soon. When can I meet them?" An overly excited Ma elbows me.

"We have to go Stan. Please. Ma, I haven't even really talked to them. I can't ask them out, let alone invite them over for dinner. Now we must leave." I say before kissing her on the cheek and grabbing Stan to pull out of the door. 

Wishing for a quiet ride to school was nothing but fantasy with Stan. I couldn't do more than just stare out the window and wish the long rant of his would end quickly.

"I don't see why you don't just go up and ask them out Ford. They seem like a nice enough person to not throw a drink in your face for asking them out. I take a couple of classes with them. Pretty smart cookie too." My twin's words fall out of his mouth as if he is some expert in relationships.

"I can handle my own relationship ventures Stanley. Thank you but I really don't think they like me back. Hell why would they? I can't even look at them without becoming a mess and stumbling on my words. For all I know, they have a guy already." My hands find my face.

"Ford, they don't have a guy. Please. They ask me about you all the time in class. I may not have a good thing with relationships, but look Sixer, they would be stupid to not like you back," His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes, "but if they don't then more chicks for us when we set sail on the Stan O' War eh??". My stomach tightens at the thought of (Y/N) asking him about me. What did they want to know? Oh God what did Stan tell them?

As the car comes to a stop, I jump out and thank Stanley for the talk. Rushing to class, I find (Y/N) sitting in their usual seat doodling in their note book. I smile and wipe my hands on my pants. Walking over to our partnered seats, I feel my heart race quicken when they look up and smile that smile at me. My face warms quickly. My hand waves at them.

"Thought for a second you weren't gonna show Ford. Started to get worried Stan's driving finally killed you." God there is that smile of theirs.

"Haha.. no no. He just wouldn't get up." I stutter out as my stomach tightens realizing that they just said they worried about me.

"Well I will remember to yell at him later for almost making you late". They laugh and we sit in a comfortable silence.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" I swear I see a light blush appear on their face.

"Me?! Oh um.. working probably. Stan hates working the shop on the weekends". I say while looking down at my hands.

"Oh well that sucks. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe.." They are quickly interrupted by the teacher coming into class with a mumble of sorrys and excuses for being late.

Quickly they turn their focus back to the notebook. It's a little black notebook that has stars they are drawing on the cover. A blush coats their face.

Soon class ends and I watch as they hurry out. This time they turn around and smile at me. My heart skips. I find myself thinking of that one interaction the rest of the day. I walk out of the school and towards the bright red car parked out front. A smile plastered to my face. It fades seeing Stan outside the car holding a way too familiar notebook.

"Don't tell me you took their notebook Stanley! I get wanting to help me but that is insane!" I whisper scream out towards my brother.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Sixer. They left it in class today, but...here check the cover". He tosses the object towards me that I luckily catch. I open the cover and see their name and the words 'If lost call me!' with their number attached. A blush finds my face. Is this the chance I have been waiting for?

"Lets go man. You got a call to make". Stanley laughs and gets into the car.

The car ride home was filled with silence as I went over every possible outcome to this. They could think I was weird for using their number without permission, or ask why Stanley didn't call, or..

My thoughts are quickly stopped as Stan slams on the breaks and parks. I quietly get out of the car and go upstairs. I thank the stars that Stan is working the shop tonight.

I sit in the kitchen watching the phone as if it will grow legs and walk out. My palms sweat against the hard cardboard cover. Stanley walks in to the room whistling. He stares at me and sighs.

"Sixer...seriously? You still haven't called?" He leans across the counter and eyes the notebook.

"This is a really bad idea Stan. I can't do it. I will just hand it to them personally first thing Monday Morning" I sigh and start to stand up to leave. I freeze in my tracks hearing the rotary dial turn.

I whip around and see Stan putting in the numbers I have eyed now for hours.

"Stan wait! Don't you dare!" I run over and go to press the receiver before the call goes through. Too late. Stan laughs and hands me the phone. Walking away with a shit eating grin. I hear the voice I have imagined in my dreams countless times, the voice that causes my body to instantly react, oh God what am I going to say? Do I hang up? I feel like throwing up. My heartbeat I can hear in my ears.

"Hello?"

Too late

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Hahaha gotta love good ol' siblings!

[yesimwriting]

Please please please write for itwv. I would cry of happiness?

You seem like a lestat girl... But also a armand.

"You seem like a lestat girl... But also a armand." you clocked me and my love of toxic men omg

here's a lestat drabble just for u anon <3

Summary: Darkness encroaching on what's considered holy is one of the world's few consistencies. Or alternatively, Lestat enjoys your stolen moments more than he'd ever admit.

Warnings: my first time writing for a character so be nice bc that's always a little scary 😭, slight religious allusions/metaphors, no pronouns used but there are potential vague implications that the reader was socialized as a girl/woman

----

What's confined to the shadows holds little regard for the sacred. The absence of light leaves no space for the good, no sanctuary or safe place to keep darkness from swallowing the revered whole.

It's fitting, then, that Lestat cannot bring himself to let you go.

You shift, fingertips brushing against the inside of his wrist. There's a valiant effort on your end to keep the turn of your head subtle, but it's not enough to keep him from feeling the weight of your cautious stare.

He keeps his eyes on your ceiling. You're radiating a warmth he's not sure he'll ever grow accustomed to, the heat of you nowhere near as simple as blood and flesh alone. It's as if remnants of daylight cling to your skin, so alive and attached to you your touch should scald him.

"Did you miss me?" The question is a thing of greed rather than curiosity.

You're quiet for a moment, your mind warning you to not reveal too much. Your hand stalls against his forearm. "Of course I missed you."

Your thoughts focus on your own response. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is a facet of your being, a testament to your ever giving honesty. Regardless of vampiric gifts, your thoughts, your feelings are easy to notice, even when they're not simple.

Now, your head is latching onto a myriad of things. Ever the lamb blinded by the wolf's clothing, you were more than just happy when he appeared at your window, you were relieved. A part of you, however, was still worried in a way that came close to making you resentful. The contrasting feelings blend together now, enjoying his presence isn't enough to make you forget his absence. Humanity and its ability to turn an approximate two weeks of nothingness into something with meaning.

Lestat turns his arm over, his fingers finding yours. "You seem to have little interest in showing me."

An exaggerated sigh falls from your lips. You move further onto your side, attention now openly settling onto him. From you, divine prophecy takes the form of a barely there crease between your eyebrows and your lips pressing together to fight against a smile. There's a similar sort of revelation in the way you're looking at him now.

"That is not true." You're working at an irritation you don't feel in an attempt to mask your desire for this type of conflict. Your elbow presses into the mattress as you prop your head up. "The only thing I've done tonight is dote on you."

In your defense, you always give as much as you can. You're generous with your attention, listening to his every word as you hold onto him, gentle fingers attempting to work warmth into stone flesh. It's a companionship unlike anything else. What once was only a simple form of entertainment has morphed into a dichotomy that shouldn't exist. You ever the saint and him the night's creature tainting holy ground.

He drags his thumb against your knuckles. "Really? You're doting on me?" The corner of your mouth pulls itself upwards, the look bordering on a smile. "And if I were to tell you I want more. What then, ange?"

Your thoughts instruct you to hold his gaze as you squeeze his hand. "Then I think I'd have to warn you of the dangers of greed."

"I'm a selfish man." Lestat lifts your intertwined hands. You watch him curiously, blood dragging its way up your neck as he presses his lips to the back of your palm. "I don't need a warning."

You're so close now he can feel the flush of your skin. "You talk like it's too late for you."

The promise of eternity is enough to quell the effects of irony. It's human nature to cling to ideality, to believe that the world is something they can take at face value. Still, from you, the comment is enough to make him smile.

The comment is closer to a joke than a genuine analysis, but it's clear that you mean the sentiment. Your eyes are bright, forgiving in their kindness. Perhaps if you knew what he was, you'd no longer look at him like he's responsible for the stars hanging in the sky.

"Maybe it is."

Your expression briefly falters, but before any changes can take root, you're moving back. You remain on your side as you lie down, head resting against his side. "I doubt that."

He begins to trail his fingers against your shoulder. You'll fall asleep soon, and he'll leave the way he always does, shedding the only version of himself you'd ever welcome with open arms. "Of course you would."

"What?"

His palm settles against your back. "You're a good person, mon ange." The vagueness of the topic paired with the tinge of something harsh in his voice leaves your thoughts restless. Lestat should take care to not pull at threads, to not leave you with questions he cannot answer. "Almost irritatingly so."

You lift your head enough to rest your chin against his ribs. "Irritatingly so?" The words are repeated with an easiness that manages to surprise him, your easy mood returning. "You're impossible."

"And you missed me desperately."

You stare at him skeptically, eyebrows drawing together and head angling itself to one side. "I never said desperately."

He pulls your arm towards him, fingers digging into your hand with enough force to imply a warning. "Do not be mean."

"I'm not," you defend, tone conveying a honey sweet innocence that could convince anyone you're incapable of wrongdoing, "I'm only saying I never told you how much I missed you."

You don't realize your mistake until the sentence has already left you. Lestat grins. "And how much did you miss me?"

Ignoring the warmth making its way up your chest, you shake your head once before moving to lie on your back again. "Oh, infinitely so. I spent my evenings in utter agony.

The facetious response is not enough to distract from your thoughts. You missed him more than you'd ever be willing to admit. For now, he'll leave you your pride. After all, he'll have other nights to focus on drawing out our praises. "Fine, be sarcastic. We're all entitled to our secrets."

You extend an arm, moving to rest it against his side. He'll have to take extra care not to wake you when he eventually has to detangle your limbs from his. The thought of the inevitable digs at him in a way he can't make sense of. Beings of the shadows may constantly work at ebbing away light, but there's an inevitable end to all wear away. You were right to notice his greed.

"Yeah," you mumble, the syllable heavy with drowsiness. For a moment, you're so still and silent Lestat almost convinces himself you've fallen asleep. "Then what are yours?"

His hand smooths circles against your spine. "That I think about stealing you away."

Your mind seems to catch itself on his answer, thoughts dissecting his words with an awareness that defies the docility that takes over when you're half asleep. After a moment, you choose to see humor there, but that isn't enough for you to let it go. "Is it really stealing if I want to go?"

You don't know what you're asking for. You're from a world so separate from his own you cannot even fathom the true implication of your words. His lips part, but before he can respond your breathing evens and your mind empties, finally succumbing to sleep.

----

a/n i really liked writing this so if you have any itwv requests pls feel free to send them to me!! just specify the character and as a general note i usually assume fem!reader but i'm happy to write gn!reader if it's specified in the ask :))

[hangesfavles]

Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c 

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.” 

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling. 

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body. 

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you. 

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly. 

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream. 

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor... 

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still. 

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly. 

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 3

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 1960

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma, Alcohol.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

The next few weeks were odd, but at least things had gotten into a rhythm at the garage. With Dean there, the other four stopped treating you like they would have if he weren’t there. It was something you wanted to ask him about but had refused to ask questions that were too personal in your mind. 

John came around, a lot, and it made you slightly nervous that first week. His presence was unsettling, and if it hadn’t been for Jodi, you probably never would have relaxed around the man. She just had a way with people, and you loved watching how she interacted with them. 

Sadly, Sam had only stayed for a few days before he went back to California for school and to his soulmate. Dean told you about her. She seemed like a nice girl, and for some reason, you were intrigued, wanting to meet her one day, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

When the third week started, Bobby assigned you and Dean a project. One of the locals had gotten into an accident, and the car was all but totaled—barely. The owner was sentimental and wanted it restored, so you knew you’d be busy for a few weeks with this one, until you learned Dean would be your other hand on the job.

“Looks like we’re working together, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, joining you as you made mental notes on the list of things you’d need to order.

“I don’t mind,” you answered nonchalantly, more focused on your mental list than him.

You finally grabbed the pad for the parts list and started jotting down the obvious items before opening all the doors and the hood. Dean just watched you, intrigued by your process and smitten by the tender attention you gave the car. He wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to get in your way either.

When you slid under the car, he crouched down so he could continue watching you. Your hair was pulled back in a braid to keep it out of your face, even if there were a few loose strands that he noticed. The way your expression gave away how the wheels turned in your mind, and your fingers seemed to dance along the parts, silently mouthing words before you’d grab your pad and write something down.

After sliding out from under the car, you looked over at Dean, who was still watching you, “Could you give this list to Bobby, please?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile, taking the pad from you.

Since you and Dean were working together, you took your breaks together. You found it odd that Dean didn’t take his breaks with the boys, though. When you asked him about it, he said he wanted to get to know you better. So, the two of you talked, about all sorts of things. 

By day three, the two of you were joking around while you worked on the car. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt nice to have someone to talk to, joke around with, and hang out with. Then, there was everything that the two of you had in common. That surprised the hell out of you.

You never thought of Dean as anything other than a co-worker and eventual friend. The man was attractive, but it was all his other qualities that made you know he’d make his soulmate happy when he found her. He was kind, sweet, funny, and he even acted like a kid sometimes. The way he smiled in so many different ways, revealing what he felt when paired with the look in his eyes, was beautiful beyond words.

The days passed quickly, with the two of you tackling the car together, and the conversation between the two of you made it seem as though you’d barely begun work by the time the shift was over. You were finally able to relax around him and be yourself, which you hadn’t gotten to do around anyone who wasn’t family.

When the two of you finished the job, you stood before it, beaming with pride, looking down at the car. Dean, though, had his eyes on you. Benny’s whistle pulled your attention as he walked over. Dean quickly looked away from you and at Benny.

“Looks good. You two team up nice,” he stated while admiring the car.

“Thanks,” you replied a little shyly. 

It was the first compliment Benny had ever given you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to take it. 

“Thanks, Benny. Couldn’t have done it without her,” Dean replied proudly, giving you a gentle pat on your shoulder. “She’s skilled when it comes to cars. Might even let her help me with Baby one day.”

Your head snapped up, and you looked at Dean, shocked but also confused. You knew he never let anyone touch his car, just like you with yours. They were both your pride and joy, and neither of you trusted anyone else to give the love deserved to work on them. You also weren’t sure how to respond.

“So, we celebratin’, since she’s finished?” Benny asked, his hands on his hips, still looking at the car.

“Drinks at Harvelle’s tonight, say around seven?” Dean answered with that smirk of his.

“I’ll tell the guys,” he replied, now sporting a smirk of his own before he walked away.

That was when Dean looked down at you, “Do you want to come too? It’s something the five of us used to do when I worked here before. I’m buyin’.”

You sighed silently and looked away from him, “I’m pretty sure they’d enjoy it more if I wasn’t there, but thanks for inviting me.”

Dean set his hands on your shoulders and gently turned you so that you were facing him. “You did more than half the work. You deserve to celebrate, too. The guys might surprise you, but…” he trailed off and sighed, then let his hands fall to his sides. “If you don’t want to go, I understand.”

Looking up at him, he looked so dejected, and you felt bad for declining his offer. “Tell you what. I’ll go, but if things get weird, I’m gonna head out.”

He instantly smiled like a happy kid, which made you chuckle a little, “Then I’ll see you tonight, Sweetheart.”

“See you tonight, Dean,” you chuckled, finding him fairly adorable.

You headed to Bobby’s office, but stopped just outside the door, hearing not only Bobby but also John and Jodie. You hadn’t noticed either of them come into the garage earlier, as your entire focus had been on finishing the car.

“We’ve only got three months left. Have you found anything out on your end, John?” Jodi asked, frustrated.

“Sam’s been trying. We know it wasn’t an accident. So far, there’s no way to fight the contract. The lawyers that drew it up were good with wording the fine print,” John replied with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not letting that monster have her, John. I’ll shoot him if he shows up,” Bobby growled.

“We still can’t find the original document. That would nullify the one that monster has,” Jodi added.

“Sam’s trying. We don’t know where Y/P/L/N’s hid it. There are only a handful of people that this has happened to. At least she and Dean are friends, so there’s some hope,” John sighed.

Your heart felt like it not only stopped but was also going to pound right out of your chest. For a moment, you were frozen in place but quickly composed yourself and put on that fake smile again. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Car’s done,” you told them loud enough so they could hear through the closed door.

“Come in, kid,” Bobby told you.

The air in the room seemed thick with tension, but they all had those faked smiles on, and you knew it was for you. Jodi was standing next to Bobby, who was behind his desk. John in the chair across from it. “Here’s the keys. The owner should be pleased with the work,” you smiled, setting the keys on Bobby’s desk.

“Thanks, kid. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off, relax a little? You’ve been workin’ hard the last two and a half weeks,” Bobby told you, but you saw the concern of something in his eyes.

“Sounds good. Nice to see you, Jodi, John,” you replied, still giving that fake smile as you headed out of the office, closing the door behind you.

That smile instantly faded, though, as your chest tightened and your thoughts ran rampant. Swallowing hard, you couldn’t manage a deep breath and headed toward your car. Dean watched you, frowning, but he didn’t follow you. Instead, he went to the office without knocking just as you reached your car.

I’m the only she Dean has been hanging out with, and we are friends. What legal stuff is connected to the two of us and not just to Dean? Why did they go silent when I went into the office? What the hell aren’t they telling me? The only other thing happening in three months is my birthday.

Is something going to happen to me on my birthday? Who would Bobby have been calling a monster? What does that have to do with me? And to top it off, what the hell does this have to do with my parents?

There were far too many questions, and no one you could even ask for answers. They circled through your mind like a tornado while you drove, while you showered, and even when you attempted to relax. Near five, after spacing off and on for the last three hours, you went to your room, sat on your bed, and picked up the picture frame that held a picture of your parents. Your mother was holding you, with your father standing behind her. Both of them looked happy. The one-year-old child in their arms was sporting a happy smile as well. 

I wish I could have gotten to know the two of you.

You sighed and flipped the frame over, unclipped the backing, and pulled out the almost twenty-five-year-old piece of paper you’d hidden there, years ago. It was a letter your mother had written to you a couple of days before you were born. You’d found it shortly after your sixteenth birthday when you were going through things in the house. It had been hidden well.

Y/N, You’ll be here soon, and you won’t understand this until you are much older. Just know we both love you more than words will ever say. This home is yours. We would have loved to raise you, but we know that we won’t live to see your third birthday. Let this home be your sanctuary away from the world. It has many hidden things that you’ll find over time. Think of it like a scavenger hunt. Each thing you find will help you heal from what is going to happen to us. The more of these things you find, the more things will make sense. I can’t put too much here, in case this is found by someone else. We love you, and we’ll be watching you from heaven. Trust your family. They’ll be there when you need them. Love, Your Parents

You’d read the letter numerous times and searched the house more times than you could count. But after hearing the three in the office today, you had a new determination growing inside. It was like a tiny ember that was quickly growing into a raging fire.

Time to search this place again. Only this time, I need answers to keep myself safe.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

@suckitands33 @mxtansy @scarletqueenx @krazykelly @roseblue373

@whimsyfinny @ladysparkles78 @aaathazagoraphobiaaa @hobby27 @perpetualabsurdity

@cicibunbuns @n-o-p-e-never @vanessa-boo @foxyjwls007

If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 2/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,748 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 @tild3ath @iiirhiane-g

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Please consider reblogging if you enjoy the read ❤️ (Thanks for all the support you've given my lil story so far!)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You push yourself to your feet and hurry over to his kitchen, flipping on the recessed lighting overhead. The kitchen is as bare and spotless as the other rooms you’ve seen, its countertops clear of the usual clutter you’d expect. No rags nor paper towel roll. No knife block nor coffee maker nor toaster—the appliances are the ones that come standard with the unit. No stacks of unopened mail nor candles nor cookbooks nor a sink full of empty dishes. No signs of life except for the adorable houseplant and some liquid hand soap beside the sink (which is good—you need soap).

You pull open drawers and cabinets, feeling a twinge of guilt for invading his privacy like this but it can’t be helped. Even those are mostly empty, only containing the barest amount of necessities like cups, dishes, and flatware—run-of-the-mill kitchen items that were probably provided with the furnished unit. You do manage to find some clean rags and paper towels (and a coffee maker), but nothing like sandwich bags for the ice. On a whim, you check his freezer and bingo! No food or decapitated heads but plenty of ice packs along with an unopened bottle of vodka. You arch an eyebrow at the curious yet amusing stash. Perhaps coming home injured is a typical Friday night for him.

You turn on the sink faucet then tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the roll, wadding them up and wetting them before adding a few pumps of soap then working up a lather. You can’t get the sight of his bleeding face and swollen neck out of your head. It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that to him against his will. He’s an intimidating guy, to say the least. Over a head taller than you, powerfully built with broad shoulders and thick thighs (and a nice ass). Perhaps he got jumped on his walk home—an all too common occurrence on these crime-ridden streets—and his stubborn pride was too wounded to go to the ER. Or maybe it was a gang thing… some sort of hazing ritual? That could explain the bloody letter on his cheek, too, you suppose. But then you remember his shaking hands and fumbling fingers as he tried and failed to unlock his door, and how he jumped at the sound of your voice. He was scared, you realize, your heart swelling with sudden pity. He was more afraid of you than you were of him. Afraid, and probably hurting, too. That thought makes your heart swell even more. It also leaves you a bit shaken. What in God’s name could frighten him? You can only hope that whatever it is doesn’t plan to make a house call anytime soon.

With the items in hand—ice packs, wet and dry rags, soapy paper towel wads, paper towel roll—you return to his side. He still doesn’t appear to have stirred, which is troubling, you have to admit, but you put it out of your mind for now. You set the items down on the floor beside the corpse-like body before grabbing a throw pillow from his couch. (Yes, a throw pillow. There’s a throw blanket on the couch, too. It’s the strongest evidence yet supporting your furnished unit presumption, since he definitely doesn’t strike you as a throw pillow kind of guy.) You kneel down at his side, then, ever so gently, you slip an arm behind his neck and lift his head enough to pull back his hood and slide the pillow beneath him. Next you take off his cap, revealing a mop of sweat-damp black hair. You sweep the soft locks back from his forehead so that you can place a cold rag against that warm, sweat-slick skin.

That’s when you notice the scars. You’d never been close enough to him to see that his face is absolutely covered in them. Faint white lines that cut through his features: his dark brows, his full lips, his freckle-dusted cheeks, the bent bridge of his nose. The worst one (aside from the J on his cheek, that is) is a deep gash that slashes across his right cheek and his nose, all the way up to his forehead. Another knife wound? Is this guy a masochist with a knife fetish or is there some freak out there who gets off on slicing up this poor guy’s face? Those marks on his neck imply the latter—the more sinister of the two—and that sends a cold chill shuddering up your spine.

Almost magnetically your eyes are drawn back past the (cute) cleft in his chin to those sunken bands of red ringing his throat. A thin line of blood has surfaced along the outer edge of one of the bands, where whatever was used to strangle him had cut into his skin. As you wipe away the blood with one of the soapy paper towel wads you spot several scratches on his neck, and for a moment you wonder if the assailant also used his hands to choke him. But then you feel your own throat constrict as the horrible realization sets in: those are claw marks. Gouges from his own fingernails where he desperately struggled to pry the ligature away and free his windpipe so he could breathe. Defensive wounds where he fought for his life.

You set aside the wet wad, then, driven by some morbid curiosity, you find your fingers returning to his throat. Ever so delicately, as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion, you touch one of the raw indentations in his swollen flesh, tracing it with your fingertip, feeling how the abraded skin had folded inward around whatever had coiled around his neck and tried to choke the life out of him. His throat vibrates gently against your probing fingers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You lay one of the dry rags across his throat, hiding the hideous damage, then place the ice pack on top, as instructed by the health article you Googled. You do the same for the back of his neck as well.

Now you turn your attention back to his scarred, haggard face. After swiping away the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth you press the soapy paper towel to his cheek, which gradually turns from white to pink as it soaks up the blood seeping from the J carved into his flesh. Once you staunch the bleeding, you lift the towel to replace it with a fresh one, and you get an unimpeded view of what was hiding beneath the cut and the blood, beneath his hat and hood all of those times you passed him in the hallway, all of those times he ducked his head between hunched shoulders to avoid eye contact with you. You pull in a sharp breath. It’s not a J-shaped scar; it’s the letter J branded into his cheek. You can tell by how the skin is puckered around the too-precise curve of the raised letter, by its faint red outline, by how it seems to tug uncomfortably at his cheek.

Your mind rewinds to a few weeks back when you accidentally burned your neck with your curling iron. You’d shrieked like a banshee then thrown the damn thing across your bathroom. The blistered patch of seared skin had throbbed for the rest of the night, and was still sensitive to the touch for the following week. That was the result of hot ceramic glancing against your skin for maybe half a second, if that long. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it would’ve hurt to have held the infernal thing against your neck for long enough to melt a fucking letter into the flesh. And not just any flesh. His cheek; that tender skin right below the orbital bone, less than an inch from his eye. It probably felt like his eyeball was boiling in his eye socket from the immense heat. And the smell! His own flesh barbecuing like meat to be served at a cannibal cook-out…

You don’t want to think about it anymore. You can’t think about it anymore or else you’re gonna be sick. And luckily you don’t have to because a low moan slips from his lips and his lashes begin to flutter. A rush of relief floods through you at the small signs of life, and you absently begin to stroke his soft hair with your hand. Heavy eyelids strain to lift then glassy blue eyes are peeking out from between the slits. You smile down at him, your fingers caringly combing through his tousled hair, easing his way back into consciousness. You expect him to groggily ask where he is or what happened to him.

Instead his eyes snap open, and the romantic portrait you’ve painted inside your mind of this moment is ripped to shreds.

He bolts upright, sending rags and ice packs flying away from him, then that massive wall of muscular torso turns on you. Time seems to somehow speed up and slow down simultaneously as those large, dangerous hands of his are reaching for you, and in that terrible instant you know without a doubt that he means to strangle you. A tiny, panic-stricken sound—the choked cry of ensnared prey—comes from your mouth as you throw up your arms across your face and neck in an comically feeble attempt to defend yourself from certain death, and the thought that flashes through your mind—maybe the last thought you’ll ever have in this lifetime—is that you’ll never have the chance to open that bottle of merlot.

But his hands don’t wrap around your throat; they land on your shoulders, and then you’re sliding, falling backwards from the force of a violent shove, your vision flashing to black as your head bounces off the hardwood floor.

“Ow!” you squeal as a bright burst of pain rings through your skull, leaving you stunned for a split second until your fear takes over, clearing away the haze and stars. You push yourself up on your forearm, blood pounding through your ears as your eyes frantically search for your attacker, heart lurching as you find him.

The guy is scrambling backwards away from you on all fours like some frightened beast, slamming into a floor lamp in his haste to escape. The lamp reels drunkenly, throwing light madly around the room as it whirls, like a waving searchlight at a festival. Then he’s pressed into a corner, able to go no further, yet his hands and heels are gripping the floor for purchase, as if he’s trying to push himself into the walls. As the lamp settles, somehow still upright, its light illuminates the hulking figure backed into the corner behind it, and you notice for the first time that the front of his red hoodie is splattered with an even darker red.

You’re sitting up now, frozen like a deer in headlights, your fight or flight reflexes canceling each other out because you’ve realized that you’re the toothless predator, not the prey, and the guy you’re gaping at with his bloodless face and wild eyes is a cornered animal who’ll do anything to survive. Then, to your horror, that cornered animal seems to remember his claws and reaches for the gun that’s not there, and you thank the universe and every holy entity within it that you disarmed him.

His wide eyes narrow as they lock onto you, and the fear that had filled them only a heartbeat ago has vanished, replaced with a look so cold, so devoid of anything but shadows and darkness, that it turns the blood in your veins to ice. 

“Who are you? What’re you doing in my apartment? What the fuck did you do with my gun?” Some of the wildness returns to his eyes as he shouts at you with a scarred voice, wheezing between each sentence. You shrink back, shocked that the guy can speak louder than a mumble, then your attention is caught by something more unnerving than his shouting, something that clutches at your insides. His eyes… The little hairs on the back of your neck stir again as you study those pale blue irises flecked with green, barely visible beneath his blown-out pupils yet still trained on you like a sniper’s laser sights. There’s something wrong with his eyes… But before you can figure it out he roars: “Answer me!” and you can’t help but jump at the hateful ferocity, his deadly strength palpable in his tone.

Your heart’s in your throat again, and your mind is racing out his door, terrified all 200-something pounds of him are about to pounce on you, so you’re surprised when you not only find your words, but shout them back at him, just as vicious.

“Take it easy! I'm your neighbor, remember? You passed out. I was trying to help you. I thought you were fucking dying!”

You see a flicker of recognition flash over his face before a coughing fit takes him. Then it hits you, like a punch to the gut as you watch him clutching at his blood-splattered chest again as he gasps for a breath. His eyes… they’re red where they should be white. All of the binged episodes of Forensic Files come flooding back to you and you even remember the term for it: petechial hemorrhaging. Burst blood vessels from strangulation. His strangulation.

The rush of pity that wells up in your chest at the awful realization calms your fear enough that you crawl a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re hurt,” you say gently, trying to keep your nerves from shaking your voice. “Your neck…”

You trail off as his eyes snap back to you, pupils still blown wide. You try to hold onto his skittish gaze, praying he won’t notice his gun behind you and lunge, but his eyes fall away to the floor. He raises his free hand to his neck, as slowly as if his wrists were chained to the floor, and touches one of the red furrows there. Then his trembling fingers move to his brand, where fresh beads of blood have surfaced. You hear him mutter something so low and tremulous it’s barely audible, but you think it sounded like… “Plan J”?

“I cleaned it with soap and water,” you reply as he stares blankly at his bloody fingertips. “But it’s deep. You may need stitches. I can bring you some Band-Aids,” you pause, feeling really fucking stupid for suggesting Band-Aids for the guy who’s been strangled and cut and branded. You blurt out the rest: “If you need them… for the time being.”

His eyes have glazed over, as if he’s gone somewhere far away. Somewhere terrible, because his rasping breath quickens and his whole body starts to shake, as though he’s reliving something. His attack? His branding? All of the times that monster of a person cut his face? You desperately want to reach for his hand, to pull him back from whatever hell he’s been sucked into, but you’re too scared to wake that cornered wild animal again.

Finally he snaps out of it, and his eyes close as his hand drops limply to the floor. You watch helplessly as the tension drains from his body and he sags forward, like he’s been crushed by whatever was waiting for him in that flashback.

“You should go,” he mumbles to the floor, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself agree. As you stand you remind yourself that you can finally have that glass of wine, but the notion isn’t as appealing as it was earlier in the night.

You gather up your phone and bag. You start to ask if you can get him anything before you go but you know his answer so you turn to leave. 

“Thank you.” His small voice cracks like a little boy’s when he speaks, and you know he’s started to cry.

��Yeah, sure,” you say softly as you turn the knob and push open his door. You glance over your shoulder at him one last time. The sight of the broken boy—the boy whose name you still don’t know—huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, weeping into his hands, wrings your heart out like a wet rag, and you feel your own throat tighten up with tears. You hang your head as you shut the door softly behind you.

[trensu]

do you think you'll put "Stasis in darkness" on AO3 eventually?

see, when the idea first came to me, I hadn't really planned on doing anything with it because I wasn't sure if I could make it work. there's a level of gravitas in the relationship between a god and their devoted servant that I didn't think would translate well to steddie because, let's be real, those boys are goofy dorks. but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I typed up the original post in an attempt to work it out of my system and move on.

(the post kind of blew up, which I was not expecting at all!! like, not even a little bit! i post all sorts of rough little ideas for my own amusement and I've been able to do that without drawing much attention until that point.)

Anyway, I wouldn't have done much with it but @acowardinmordor left some comments/tags/what have you that helped me nail down the setting in my head which really opened the door for me to explore how the story could progress. (apologies, strife, I'm not sure I ever properly thanked you for that burst of inspiration, so please accept this shoutout as an expression of gratitude). And the amazing @ent-is-indecisive allowed me to rant about it which really helped flesh out the story. Seriously, there are elements and lore coming up that would not have existed if it weren't for ent. (and thank you once again ent for the ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL fanart you made for the reveal scene, I'm still overcome with joy whenever I think about it!).

Once it got to that point, I knew I wanted it to be a self-contained story and I was afraid that if I did a multi-chapter fic I'd lose the thread and never make it to the ending I want the fic to have. (no, the end scene hasn't been written yet but I KNOW what it's going to be and I hope everyone will love it as much as i do). So I promised myself that I was not going to post it on ao3 until the whole thing was written out completely.

However, I occasionally need a confidence/motivation boost so I've been posting consecutive parts of the rough draft here. you have no idea how much the people who reblogged with tags or left comments have helped me fight off the discouragement my brain likes to bog me down with; off the top of my head, @godsweakestboy , @redfreckledwolf, @fuctacles , @spectrum-spectre , and @lawrencebshoggoth have given me lovely, enthusiastic words of encouragement. and they're only the ones I can think of at this moment. there's so many other people who've done this, so if you've ever left me nice tags or comments, please know that I've read every single one of them repeatedly whenever I need to get over a slump. I'm so grateful for all of you!

Anyway, all this is to say yes! It is going to be posted as a oneshot on ao3 once I've finished writing it. <3

[hakugin0]

So that new Levi card, woah boy(positive). I get how setting is slightly dubious but unfortunately my brain stopped at the ‘childish jealousy’ part and yeah childish was the perfect word he actually is throwing a bratty tantrum about MC talking about their time with Minhyeok WHILE THEY'RE NOT EVEN NEXT TO HIM. Levi, babey, you're not beating the Tsundere allegations.

Also the part about the sins was very interesting ‘cause it kinda puts in perspective why he feels like there's no King he's close to. Or at least that's my read on that part, all their sins have some positive parts while his is the only fully negative one so of course he couldn't feel close to them. (Personally I do think that part is his viewpoint on their sins and it would be interesting to see the other Kings’ too, Satan in particular since I feel like his sin and depressive mood swings do go hand in hand)

Now for the read more aka wiiiild speculations because he didn't come home in the reduced ten pull aka see you in 3 months bae when I have 500 pulls and you still refuse to show up(looking at you bath Satan), fair bit of character analysis and slight canon divergence(???) plus personal MC involvement.

GONNA PREFACE THIS BY WAVING NY ‘LEVI SIMP’ FLAG UP HIGH, IF THE CARD STORY WAS OFF PUTTING TO YOU OR YOU DISLIKE HIS CHARACTER IN GENERAL THEN MORE POWER TO YOU BUT PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST! IT AIN'T MEANT FOR YOU HOMIE (it's meant for me first and then anyone else who wants to witness my 3am insanity)

Aight? Aight! Here we go gamers

Gonna start this off by saying that when they dropped the first teaser for the card my expectations for the story were jelly Levi wants to replace minhyeok and thus enters MC's memories except surprise surprise it was actually some corn set in a high school (don't pretend those aren't a thing, we're all adults here, and with MC’s track record in that game it would not be surprising) in part because the story had to get spicy at some point.

Personal belief is that what we see in the prologue of Levi is the closest thing to a ‘normal’ him aka a version of him that got to experience a normal childhood and not have all the trauma of… ya know… HIS WHOLE PAST. The way he expected an attack when MC initially trips breaks me in a very particular way, he has never known peace, he expects everything to be some sort of attempt on his or his people’s life. The one time he wasn't as uptight ended up with him heavily injured (Bloodshed card).

There is also him ascertaining that they had different starting points. Now this could refer to a lot of things but to me one thing that does is put a definite line between them. To me it sounds like he's reasoning with himself that because of their very different lives they would be incompatible (combined with that thing about his sin being the only negative one it shows he always separates himself from people he would otherwise form bonds with)

Now he's still not nice, far from it, but he can be accommodating and look out for MC when he is not thinking 24/7 about possibly being attacked. Whether he reasons that it would endear himself more to them or out of pure instinct he looked out for MC, those were not Minhyeok’s actions he mimicked but his own.

So yeah, average Levi is horrendously bad at emotions and frankly probably the one who understands his own emotions towards a potential romantic partner(since tbh that is what MC is) the least. (This is a whole other can of brainworms about how aside from Solomon he probably has not been attached to anyone in that way until MC based on something he says in his H-Scene, but that can of worms shall be opened later) please get some therapists in Hell, clearly everyone would benefit from it.

There is also something impossibly endearing to me about seeing Levi in a high school setting even for a bit because that's not something he ever experienced and I wish his time exploring that part of MC and Minhyeok's past was a bit longer. I want to believe MC gets to ask him later in the story how he felt about it.

---

If you were only here for the character analysis then thanks for reading, have a lovely day/night/evening, we are going into wild speculation territory and some personal things regarding my MC Jin in that particular scenario.

tl;dr: After Jin's parents were killed she pretty much secluded herself in their home doing most of her studying through online courses and only showing up physically at school for a couple of days.

I choose to believe she was aware of stuff from the start but in that way you're aware you're in a dream while you sleep, she can tell things are a bit off but not fully what is wrong. She knows the person with her is not Minhyeok, she also knows who Leviathan is, but there's a certain disconnect when trying to piece it all together, but the further the dream goes the more she ‘realises’ and ‘awakens to the truth' if you will.

She cannot help but pity Levi’s situation even if she knows if she ever said that she'd probably get insta-hanged, so a part of her cannot help but wonder if he wanted to experience some normalcy for once. (She's not the brightest tool in the shed so the fact that he wants to replace Minhyeok would not pass by her singular braincell) (I love her I swear, being mean is my love language)

So I imagine after the whole dream thing is over and she next visits Hades she doesn't raise any questions about that event. She seems annoyingly unbothered and not curious at all. If anything this just makes Leviathan more angry because she can't be that unbothered after everything and pretend nothing happened, he should've been the only thing on her mind and yet she still sometimes mentions that detestable human. Oh how he should hang her for it. And then one day she has a conspicuously familiar candy in her mouth. “Was the experience at least a bit pleasant?” She's soft spoken anyway but she sounds almost apologetic. Why yes the experience was quite pleasant if Levi had to be honest but he'd never praise her openly… and then it hits him. She's not asking about that, she's asking about how he felt in a normal human high school.

When she gets no answer she stammers and starts speaking again, trying to fill the void. “I didn't exactly… go there often…” The pauses are plentiful and her shoulders droop almost in shame. “... so I imagine whatever you saw was rather lacklustre… aside from… my pathetic display-”

“It wasn't bad.”

A short sentence and it was enough to make the human girl perk up instantly. From anyone else that would be considered nigh an insult, but with Levi's temperament that was the highest praise she could hope for. By the time Jin was next to his desk after he'd beckoned her with a wave of his hand her visage had brightened significantly. ‘Stealing’ the lollipop from between her lips was ‘child’s play’ after that, the girl clearly took stunned to speak and becoming redder by the second.

“Yes, not bad at all.”

[dum1s-writings]

Well, hello! It's nice to see an active total drama writer in here! I love this show so much and the fandom is like dead 💀

So, I had this idea...

It could be headcanons or a fic/one-shot, whatever you feel like the most!

But, what about the reaction to the TDWT crew to Chris bringing his niece with him?? Like, the reader is just a sweet 19 y/o teenager who looks for their safety and actually cares about them??? (Total contrary to his uncle lmao).

It doesn't have to be with one character specifically, most like how they would react overall to the reader wanting to protect them from Chris (AND PLEASE MAKE THE READER PROTECT CODY FROM SIERRA I BEG U)

Anyways, have a nice day!!! <3

~~~The Nice McLean~~~

I fucking love Total Drama!! I firmly believe Leshawna should've won the first season. I'll try to add my least favorite characters from World Tour to avoid being biased.

Warnings: Chris McLean, Sierra's stalker behavior, attempted manipulation from Alejandro, Duncan being kind of an ass, does Cody being a crybaby count? I'm making it count.

Pronouns: They/Them

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

"Alright contestants I have another surprise for you." Chris looked at the tired teens. From behind Chef came another teen. They smiled and waved to the other teens.

"Another contestant?" A few questioned simultaneously.

"Oh hell no. Their mother would kill me." Chris slung his arm around them and tugged them close. "This here is -Y/N- McLean, my nibling."

"Heya," their smile got bigger "I hope we can get along."

Everyone was too shocked to speak for a moment. Sierra was trying so hard not to flip her shit. Chris McLean's nibling was actually in front of her.

"So you're related to Chris?" Harold finally asked.

"Yeah. My mom is his sister." -Y/N- answered truthfully.

"Think of -Y/N- as a co-host. Another Chris of sorts." The older man smirked. "They'll keep an eye on you famous wannabes while I can't."

First of all we'll get the obvious out of the way, the cast fucking love you, after getting to know you. Obviously at first learning you're related to the devil host, Chris McLean, they immediately thought this season would be twice as torturous. But give them a couple of days or weeks and most of them would willingly jump from the plane for you. The others may take some time.

I'll start with the ones that take no time in becoming your fans:

Cody: for him the moment he saw you give a genuine smile was when he trusted you. Having dealt with Chris's shit for so long made him aware of a real and fake smile. Also when you demand Sierra leave him alone? Oh yeah he likes you even more now. Expect a lot of clinging, as much as he can, crying for one reason or another mostly Sierra and excessive praise for the small things.

Lindsay: my sweetheart, so pretty so.....not traditionally smart. She saw you looking super nice in your outfit and that was it. Anyone with fashion choices as good as yours are definitely trustworthy. Please become shopping buddies after the show is over.

Owen: this big lug. He really tries to see the good in everyone. More often than not he's wrong. But he's genuinely happy he's right about you.

Sierra: she knew about you before anyone else. Obviously she's going to trust you from the get go. You're related to THE Chris McLean. That trust may or may not waver...TBD. Either way watch yourself around her. Keep a close eye on your belongings.

The neutral ones who need a bit more time are:

Noah: he just doesn't trust easily. Take no offense to it. I think only Owen was lucky enough, being an actual giant ball of sunshine and stupidity. Perhaps if you sneak him some Noah-Safe food he'll trust you faster.

Gwen: poor girl has been scorned by the world so often. It's left her with a few trust issues. Maybe stick up for her and watch some good horror movies together. Reassurance is the key, she was painted as a bad guy from the beginning. Let her know she's more than that and it's okay to admit she did wrong. Help her move past that.

Leshawna: this bad bitch (lovingly) knows her worth. She wants to make sure others know it as well. Don't talk down to her and hype up her plans and ideas and she'll consider you worth her time and respect. Also keep Alejandro away from her. Please. My queen deserves better.

DJ: he's a softie and a Mama's boy. He does want to trust you. But after his failed restaurant with his Mama it might take some time. People in power never helped him or his Mama. In fact he wonders if they were sabotaged. Help him find ways to "reverse his curse" and he'll definitely trust you, also maybe offer his Mama a job as a chef, especially if it's a higher position in a private kitchen.

The ones who just straight up dislike you and take a long time to like you are:

Alejandro: his family caused him so much trauma. He doesn't trust ANYONE. He may act like it, nodding to your advice and being nice. But alas tis all a front. He's really just waiting for the perfect moment to betray you. When that time comes and goes and you're still nice to him? Yeah....you may have started chipping away at his walls.

Heather: the queen bee. The head of every group project. Highschool taught her to look out for herself. So did the first two seasons of Total Drama. She'll bitch at you and talk shit about you "behind" your back. Just brush it off and continue being nice and you'll win her over, eventually.

Courtney: the Type A Psychotic Crazies and debate team caused Courtney to believe only Courtney can help Courtney. She'll refuse to trust you and judges those who do. In fact it's not until she's kicked off will she finally trust you. Maybe meet up after the show and talk to her, she'll apologize to you and own up to her wrongdoings.

Duncan: the runaway delinquent. The hardass he is doesn't trust you, purely because of your last name. Chris ruined his life, more than he himself could have. Being stalked no matter where he went for 2 years put him on edge. Abolish Chris's stupid "must always sing" rule and his opinion on you might change.

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

Hopefully this works. I didn't know what to do for most of it. I was winging it big time.

[romanarose]

Darkness on the Edge of Town: Chapter 2

Joel Miller x reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: You try to get Joel to warm up to you, and Joel learned his rescue may not have gone as planned.

WARNINGS: References to attempted rape (previous chapter) but we don't dwell on it. blowjob, thigh riding, subby!joel, Joel is a grumpy pants but he's getting there.

A/N I kinda had given up on this, but then someone send an anon ask for me, and i got some nice comments on AO3 so here we are. I condensed the story, so sorry if it feels rushed. one or two more chapters after this. I also changes from OC to reader, so if anything in this chapter or the last says "her" or any physical descriptions i missed in the edit, please let me know! I'll do my best to do this story justice!

Joel woke up the way he always did; annoyed. “Quit touching my shit” He grumbled.

You jumped at his voice, stepping away from Joel’s small collection of records. “Sorry” You didn’t look sorry. He didn’t respond.

But you kept talking. “I saw you have Nevermind, that’s pretty impressive.” No response. “My dad had some SoundGarden album, I can't really remember what it was, used to listen to it a lot” When you still didn’t get anything from him, you sighed, and Joel only felt a little bit bad. For the next few hours, you made occasional attempts at conversation, only to be met with absolutely nothing in response. By the later afternoon, you had taken to nearly having a conversation with yourself. This is how Joel found himself lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, listening to you babble on about one thing or another, trying to think of a way to get you to shut up; telling you as such directly hadn’t worked. “Is this your guitar?” You gestured towards the 6 string propped up against the shotty record player. It wasn’t nearly the first question you’d asked that day, but it was the first you didn't answer yourself. He took the opportunity to be snarky. “Whose else would it be?” “You’re girlfriend?” You answered nonchalantly. This got his attention, making him sit up to look at you while you continued looking at the guitar. “What?”

You turned to him and answered like it was so obvious. “Well, you had pads in the bathroom.” A little flush crept up in Joel’s neck. He wasn’t a stranger to them by any means, he had no problem buying them for Sarah, but talking about it with a woman he barely knew was a different story. Joel dodged your eyes, laying back down again. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” “Well, whoever those are meant for then, if they're here enough to need pads and tampons.” Joel had gotten them years ago, found some randomly in an abandoned store, and kept them on hand for Tess in lieu of trading. Joel has long suspected they were no longer relevant to her, but was not about to ask. “Those are for emergencies.” “Ohhhh” You teased. “Got lots of ladies coming and going?” Joel didn’t dignify this with a response. In fact, he refused to dignify every comment and question you made for the next 3 hours with any answer until you began yawning, and Joel took the opportunity to offer you the bed to nap, very happy to have something to get you to shut the hell up for a few hours.

Once he was sure you were out cold, snoring loudly, he radioed a contact. 

 A few hours later, you were up and still annoying him. You had spent the last few hour attempting to work out, jogging in place, pushups, sit ups rationalizing that you would never be able to sleep if you just sat around all day when Joel gave you a look. He couldn’t help but stare a bit when he thought you weren’t looking looking (you were). You were an interesting person to be sure, one of the few that weren’t intimidated by him, chattering away and continuously trying to get some sort of background information from him, something to work with. It was clear you were likely very lonely, but Joel was not the cure for that. He found himself accidentally looking at your ass while you did squats when someone threw rocks at the window, and while Joel tells you not to, you open the window to see a FEDRA guard. “Yeah?” you shout down, before Joel pushes you out of the way, telling the guard to meet him downstairs.

When Joel opens up the door to the apartment building, he takes the bags the guard brought.

“Was that the girl?” He asks.

Joel doesn’t look up, looking through the bags to make sure everything is there. “How many girls do you think I have in my apartment?”

“Ross isn’t happy with you”

“He’s never happy with me” Joel mutters as he pays for what the guard brought.

“No, Joel, he’s furious. It’s not good. He wants her.”

This caught Joel’s attention, and he looked up.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not gonna let go of this. He thinks she’s his. When the lockdown is over, she’s not out of this.”

Although his face betrayed no emotion, concern was bubbling in him as he shut the door, walking down the hall slowly. For reasons Joel couldn’t place, he felt a duty to her. He intervened in the ally, he allowed her to stay with him, when this was done, he should be able to wash his hands of her…

“You look grumpier than usual.” You comment as he comes in, carrying the bags as you stretched.

“Very observant” Joel retorts. 

“What’s that?” You reference the bags he was unloading onto the cabinets.

“Nothing”

“Did you get more food?”

“No”

But he did, it was clear. Joel had pulled his strings to get more food and necessities for you. 

“Thank you, Joel”

He was struck with the sincerity in her voice, different from the usual chattering, sarcasm, and one way conversations. He continued to put things away as he heard you stand up, trying to ignore you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can pay you back, I got some ration cards at home.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Joel reiterated.

Your voice was suddenly very close to him, he could feel your presence behind him. “Or I could pay you back another way.”

Joel quickly started walking away to pretend to do something else, trying to hide the blush on his face. 

You keep distance, not wanting to cage him in, but you do follow him a little as he fucked around the room. 

“Oh come on, how long’s it been?”

“Not that long” he spoke with a little indigence, so you dropped it.

“Just a blow job, it’ll kill some time-”

Joel whipped around. “I didn’t bring you here to take advantage of you”

You softened, taking a careful few steps forward as you did, not trying to overwhelm him, but assure him that he wouldn’t be. “You’re sweet. I think you try to pretend you’re not, but you are. I won’t push it, but it doesn’t have to be in exchange for anything, if that makes you feel better.”

Joel eyed you suspiciously, still on guard. “What do you get out of it?”

You smirk a bit. “I get a lot out of it, I enjoy it”

He scoffed at that. “Sure, you enjoy sucking a guy off.”

“Oh I most definitely do, Joel.” You said with a smile. “The feeling of a thick cock in my mouth, the taste, the smell, the sounds they make-”

“Stop” Joel had his eyes closed and you could tell he was considering it. “I get it.” He opened his eyes and watched you, thinking. “Just a blowjob? And we can call it even?”

“Just a blowjob. Unless you want to fuck me, of course”

He held out hand. “Blowjob is fine.” But he made no move, and you had a feeling you’d be taking the lead; fine by you, you loved to have a man whimpering at your hands. 

“Awesomesauce. Now, let me guess…” You pretended to consider for a moment. “You strike me as more of a ‘laying down’ kind of guy”

As long as you weren’t going crazy, the smallest smile appeared on his face. “How’d you know?”

You laugh loudly, walking towards the bed. “No reason, you just seem like the kind of guy who's in control all the time, and likes to be able to… let go.” 

Joel was absolutely smiling now, no matter how small it was. “Hm. Let’s see how well you can make me let go, before we get too carried away.”

You were thrilled to see a playful side of him, no matter how slight, directing him to lay down on the bed before straddling him, rubbing your crotch over his in the sweatpants he gave you. Out of instinct, Joel reached out to touch you, but you smacked his hands away. “Aht, aht aht. I’m supposed to be making you let go, remember? Let me do my thing, I don’t need any help”

“We’ll see about that”

You were dead set and determined to make Joel give up control, and god, make him smile. You didn’t feel like you owed him sex, like you were pressured in any way; Joel had made it clear he’d simply not talk to you if you'd let him. But you wanted to make him feel good. He’d saved you from something horrific, and great inconvenience himself in the process. You wanted to pay him back in some way or another, and a blowjob was as good as any. You weren’t lying; you enjoyed it.

Rocking your hips on him and enjoying the feeling of him growing hard, you looked down at Joel; his eyebrows were knitted together, lips pursed, and clearly trying to not make it obvious how much he was enjoying this. You brace yourself on his chest, leaning over so your face was close to his, and taking enjoyment in the way his breathing stopped. “Gonna make you feel so good, Joel” you nearly whisper, lips ghosting over his but never touching.

You work yourself down him, slowly crawling back, until your face is right next to his crotch. “Can I?”

You ask, looking up to see his eyes intense, and wide, and heavily trained on you.

“Joel, can I? Yes or no.” You ask, hands tracing the elastic of his pants.

His voice was so, so quiet. “Please.”

You smile. “Don’t gotta beg, sweet boy.”and you cup his full erection as you speak.

It was quiet, but an unmistakable, small whimper from his mouth as you began your ministrations on him through the material before you pulled down his pants, his cock springing free for you.

“Beautiful” You say under your breath. “Fucking beautiful.” He was massive, and you couldn’t wait to actually get him in your mouth. You start with a long lick from the base to the tip, and immediately Joel was writhing under you, and you figured he’d lied when he said it hadn’t been that long… with a deep breath, you begin to sink down on him, taking as much as you could before coming up and going down a second time, repeating this action as you took a little more each time.

You were right, Joel had lied; it had been a long time. There bad been quick fucks here and there, girls he’d been with for a quickie and not much else, only if the timing lined up. Joel didn’t really go around seaking it, especially in the QZ. When he had saved you, no part of him thought of you like this, there was no part of him that wanted to take advantage of you and your vulnerability, but when it was so clear you wanted him… your pretty lips stretched around him, the way your head bobbed, taking more and more and more…. When you buried your face in the hairs at his base, his cock sliding down your throat, he involuntarily bucked his hips up, causing you to gag just a little bit, but nothing you couldn’t take. When you went up for air, he began apoligizing.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

But you cut him off by fitting all of him into your mouth again, expertly working yourself on him, using your right fist to wrap around his base, twisting in time to your mouth, eagerly sucking on him with everything in you. Joel was taking in everything about you, every gluck your throat made, the wet, sloppy sounds, the little moans that showed him yes, yes you were actually enjoying this, you got pleasure from his pleasure alone. He could see you were wriggling on the bed, rubbing your thighs together for friction and despite his insistence that this was just going to be a quick blowjob, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just keep you wanting; he wasn’t that much of an asshole.

Joel sat up and you watched him but did not stop your work, thinking maybe he wanted to touch your ass or tits or something. Instead, Joel picked up your hips, placing you so you straddled his leg, a perfect angle to get yourself off on.

“Please don’t stop,” He whispered as he laid back down. 

“I won’t, honey” Your pet names seemed to get a rise out of him, and you watched him breath in deep before releasing a moan as you picked up speed. Working yourself on him, it didn’t take long to near your orgasm and catch up with him; the sounds Joel made, as much as he tried to suppress them, turn you on indescribably, he almost came, but you pinch the base of his hard cock, stopping him.

“No” Joel whines.

“When you cum, I don’t want you to hold back those sounds, okay?”

Joel didn’t reply, and you watched his chest heaving, struggling as his body begged for touch.

You kiss the peak of stomach that showed from his ridden up shirt, stroking him but slowly.

“Joel, need you to promise me you won’t hide from me, okay?”

“Oh- okay” He breathed out, broad body writhing beneath you.

You continue using his leg to get off. “Promise?”

“Promise, please, god dammit it, please-” The words spilled out in rapid succession, desperation lacing his voice.

“Cum whenever you’re ready, baby, I’m right behind you”

You sunk your mouth back on him, your slick coating your thighs and the inside of Joel’s pants you wore, and Joel tried not to think about how they must smell, how you must taste…

“Fuck, I- I’m- I’m gonna cum” Joel warned, but you didn’t pull away, shooting the thick ropes down your mouth as you came on his leg.  He did as promised and didn’t hold back at all, moaning loudly for you, for you, for you….

As you came down from the high, relaxed against him, you look up at Joel, and find he is, in fact, looking down at you, and you could tell he wasn’t about to say anything until prompted.

“That was fucking hot, Joel”

Panting, he replies, the smallest of smiles on his face. “Yeah. yeah it was.”

You pull up his pants for him, and begin to get up, intending on moving to your chair for the night, but Joel quickly sat up, grabbing your arm. “Wait”

Turning to him with raised eyebrows, you wait for him to say more, but he hesitates, all nervous despite his dick literally being in your mouth a few minutes ago.

“Yes?”

“Well… You could sleep on the bed, if you want…  ain’t tryna cuddle or nothing, but-”

“I’d love to, Joel.” You smile, laying down and getting under the blanket.

Joel wasn’t lying, he wasn’t trying to cuddle, he stayed so far away you thought he’d fall off the bed; but the gesture was sweet, and you enjoyed sharing a bed with someone, even like this. 

When you woke up, Joel’s arm was around you.

*******************

@welcometostayingawake @howaboutcastiel @trinkets01 @ninebluehearts @luciannadraven33 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[goatcheesecak3]

I read your Gavin Ellis fic and I’m so in love with him I wanna keep him in my pocket.

I wanted to request a fic (f! Or nb! Reader) where the reader is a close friend of Gavin’s and Ray’s. At a party, the reader meets someone and starts dancing with them (maybe even plans to go home with them), and Gavin has a high-key jealous moment about it.

Or, a second (angstier) idea: The reader saves Gavin from getting thrown off the roof, but gets really really injured in the process of stopping the cop.

Jealous

Gavin Ellis X F!Reader

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: brief mentions of drug use, alcohol and physical altercation.

Summary: after Gavin has ignored you all week, you decide to try and make him jealous.

A/N thank you so much for your request!! I love writing about Gavin because he's just sooooooo??????? i've gone with your first idea, but I definitely want to do the more angsty fic in the future! I think i just need to get better at writing how Gavin would act in more serious situations first teehee <3 also, for my male readers, i pinky promise I'll get the m!reader versions of my gavin fics up within the next few days, i've just been trying to get some new stuff out since i've been slacking with fics in general lately

The music was loud, the drugs were plentiful and the atmosphere was electric. Gavin’s parties were always eventful, the lack of rules usually lead to some sort of drama. So far this night some drunk arsehole had already jumped off the roof in an attempt to impress some girls (y/n couldn’t figure out what was more surprising; the fact that he only twisted his ankle, or the fact that the girls were actually amused). Y/n, a close friend of Gavin’s sat on a sofa, quietly sipping a beer next to Ray, another close friend.

“Do you want to go and see what Gav’s up to?” Ray asked.

Y/n scoffed at this, she and Gavin had been having a somewhat weird patch in their friendship. After drunkenly making out a week prior on a particularly crazy night out, things had been weird between them. Y/n had tried to brush it off and forget it ever happened, but Gavin seemed to be avoiding her.

“If the prick wants to talk to me he can come over here, I’m not gonna chase after him.” She rolled her eyes.

“But… and don’t take this the wrong way,” Ray gulped, not wanting to trigger her short temper, “you’re the one that came to his party”

With a raised eyebrow and an all too defensive tone, y/n responded, “I’m only here to steal booze and maybe take someone else home. What about that guy, David? The one on your footie team? He’s not half bad looking”

Ray sighed defeatedly. He hated when he got caught between y/n and Gavin’s drama, it was like putting up with his mother and stepdad all over again.

“I think David’s in the kitchen, just, please don’t make things weird, y/n, I like being friends with both of you”

y/n’s face softened.

“I promise I’ll only make things weird for Gav, never you though Ray” she smiled playfully, placing an affectionate and friendly peck on his cheek before arising from the sofa and making her way to the kitchen.

Y/n’s seemingly foolproof plan to hook up with David was in action, as she stood in the doorway to the cramped kitchen making eyes at him across the room, smiling seductively. David wasn’t necessarily the sort of guy y/n would usually go for, but he would do, and most importantly, it would serve Gavin right for being such a dick all week.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know Miss y/l/n would be here tonight, to what do I owe the pleasure?” David smirked, leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly.

“well you can start with a jack and coke” she grinned back, biting her lip and laying it on as thick as possible.

“your wish is my command”

y/n knew this dance, she’d done it plenty of times before. Twirl your hair, bat your eyelashes, pretend to give a shit about football, grind a little on the dancefloor, and before you know it, you’ve got yourself a nice no-strings-attached stress reliever. Piece of cake.

“wow and they let you have the penalty kick? That’s soooo funny” She feigned laughter, touching his arm lightly.

Tired from pretending that David was at all interesting to talk to, y/n pulled him towards the front room, where people had began to dance. Leant up against a back wall, watching bitterly and ignoring his friends, was Gavin. He’d worn his favourite top, a tight red shirt with the top few buttons undone – a look which y/n had complimented him on before. Sure, he’d been playing hard to get since the last time they saw eachother, but he was hoping that at the night of his party y/n would see how he was dressed and be all over him. Instead, however, to his absolute disdain y/n had completely ignored him and was now dancing with some jackass from his footie club who spent most games on the bench. He tried not to let himself care, but his blood boiled when he saw David whisper something in y/n’s ear.

“so… am I gonna get lucky tonight?” he slurred, drunk and sloppy at this point.

“ugh stop talking, you’re ruining this for me” y/n rolled her eyes. David was attractive enough, but in all honesty his voice was a tad bit grating, and his drunken pawing at her body as they danced was far from sexy.

The pair continued to dance, David too drunk to get the not-so-subtle hint to stop blabbering, as he kept rambling about something that didn’t matter. Gavin, who was practically seething with rage and jealousy at this point, finally decided to do something about it when he saw David’s hand trailing it’s way down to y/n’s ass. Before anyone knew what happening, David had been aggressively shoved to the floor.

“I told you y/n’s off limits” Gavin spat.

“Hey what the fuck is your problem, mate?” David groaned, pulling himself up off the floor.

Y/n put her palm to her face, practically mortified.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, calm your tits” she scolded.

Gavin didn’t stick around to see if David was okay, instead he grabbed y/n by the arm and pulled her out to the garden to talk.

“Gav, what the f-”

“why did you do that?”

“do what?”

“that! In there, parading yourself around with that dipstick like I’m not right in front of you” he spat.

y/n had to hold herself back from laughing in his face, “why the hell do you give a shit? You haven’t said a word to me all week, are we even mates anymore?”

Gavin responded in a way which y/n could have never predicted. Gavin Ellis, the cocky, loudmouth arsehole who had an answer for everything had been rendered speechless. His mouth hung open for a minute, as he blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing and his brain overheating.

“o-of course we’re still- what, were you actually upset by that?” he finally managed.

“uh, no shit I was upset by it. So what, we make out at the pub and all of a sudden I’m a stranger? Pardon me, but I thought after all these years of friendship I would at least get a heads up before you decide to drop me” y/n rolled her eyes, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. Despite her somewhat feisty exterior, she didn’t like confrontation, it made her anxious, and so she wanted to keep her hands busy.

“DROP YOU?!” Gavin spluttered, “Why would I- Y/n, I would never drop you, I just felt like I should keep my distance because-“ he stopped himself.

“Because what?”

“C’mon y/n, don’t make me say it” Gavin bit his lip and looked away nervously.

“Because what?!”

“Because I’ve got a thing for you, alright?! And I didn’t wanna make an dick out of myself!”

“so… you ignored me altogether?” she asked, her demeanour switching to one of kindness, while still being amazed at Gavin’s stupidity.

“look, it seemed like a better idea in my head”

“I’m sure it did”  y/n chuckled, “I can’t say I’ve never considered it, y’know, me ‘n you”

“Really?!” Gavin grinned, his face turning every so slightly pink, “so… do I have a chance?”

Y/n smiled, biting the inside of her lip.

“yeahhhhh, alright. Fuck it, let’s give this a go. But no more playing it cool, and no more drunken nights at the pub, if you’re really serious about me, I wanna be treated like a lady”

Gavin was practically cheesing like an excited kid at this point, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined things going this well.

“How about I pick you up on Friday for steak and a film?” he winked.

“I think that sounds like a plan” y/n giggled.

As a rule, y/n never kissed on a first date, let alone before it even happened, but she was feeling adventurous, and fuck it, that boundary had already been crossed a week prior. She leaned back on the wall of the house, and placed her hand gently onto the nape of Gavin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Gavin’s hands finding their way around y/n’s waist and holding her tight.

“just FYI,” he mumbled into the kiss, “now that we’re a thing, if I ever catch another bloke dancing with you like that again I’ll deck the cunt” he chuckled.

“Is it bad that I find that hot?” y/n giggled

“not for me it isn’t”

[feathernuggetzz]

Random lu headcannons

This is my first public writing post so excuse any ooc things and just weird or cringe stuff....basically pls be nice

Tags: fluff, gn reader, general headcannons of all the boys (i love these stinky lil' dudes.)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3?

Legend-

-I love this little snarky dude he so silly...

-He definitely is very possessive of his s/o just like he is with his trinkets, anyone causes you ANY issue, they deal with him first.

-Isn't the most cuddly and mushy with you when the others are around (really only hand holding and compliments), but when they leave he lets his little tough wall down and will lay with you, hold your hand, kisses, anything you want. (i luv him sm help)

-You get to touch some of his belongings (with supervision ofc) as long as you treat the items with respect and are careful with it

-Gives you a power item of some sort to locate or protect you

-Acts like he's okay (he's not, he's been through sm hug him pls)

-Pry enough and he'll open up about his feelings, might cry the first time though...He has many pent up feelings with all those adventures of his.

-basically hylia give this bunny man a break

Twilight-

-I LOVE YOU COUNTRY BOYYY

-insecure about his accent (dw I love it bbg)

-Teaches his s/o traditional dances from his village

-Loves watching you do your hobbies and will attempt to do them with you (draw or make something, sew, garden, basically anything)

-Might let you in on the wolfie secret at some point....

-When he does, would probably curl up with you whenever you want.

-No blanket? that's fine, wolfies warm.

-Adores gifts from you :)

-Whenever he gets back to ordon he's gonna introduce you to everyone, yes. everyone...so be ready for some arm dragging around the village..

Wild-

-cook him something rn..RN RN RN

-Even if it's bad..or burnt..or on fire..He doesn't care he's gonna eat it.

-If you're in his hyrule, he'll take you to allllll his fav spots. (imagine sitting under the cherry tree w/ him, on satori mountain, only sounds are the leaves, water, and the wind.) -Make some nice memories with him, he needs it...

-Lay on his shoulder when he zones out, even if he can't really see/think, he can feel you, and that comfort would help him..(therapy 4 him rn please???)

-BRAID HIS HAIRR

-I also like to think his hair is actually really soft and he takes care of it often

[chungledown-bimothy]

Are you still doing d20 hot takes? These are admittedly lukewarm (some salsa that everyone at the table can enjoy).

1) I watch for the character arcs/development, not the story, so I really enjoyed Neverafter.

2) Both campaigns set in Calorum have been really hard to get into, even though they’re really good. But I also don’t like GoT so maybe that’s on me.

3) Hard agree with everyone who said they don’t really want sequel campaigns. I would, however, be down for the odd one shot a la holiday MisMag or Boys’ Night.

4) Coffin Run is so slept on, it’s not even funny. Jasmine’s props, the letters, the Dracula wings lighting, gorgeous sets & minis, incredible RP all around, great bits, all the campy horror movie references… Truly one of my faves.

5) I really wanna see Aabria or another guest DM do a full length/over 10 eps season. I feel like Aabria’s DM style would do well with a few more eps so she can explore more. And it would just be nice to hang out with a guest DM a bit more.

6) Confession: Never finished UC2 or Pirates =< UC2 was hard to pick up with less likeable characters (to me) + feeling like Chap 1 wrapped up so nicely + I’m bad with interpersonal conflict. And then I never got past the start of ep 1 of Pirates cause bad British accents is my pet peeve and B Dave’s character was first introduced 😭

oh i'm ALWAYS here for d20 hot takes. (god i love sam says that was so fucking funny, especially because what lou then gave was the most mild gossip i've ever heard)

1- completely valid. and to a large extent, i do too- i did ultimately enjoy the season, primarily because i love the characters so much.

2- skill issue. calorum campaigns slay absolute penis. (for real though totally fair, they're not for everyone. but i do think it's interesting in conjunction with watching for character arcs/development, bc i think acoc in particular is one of the best with that)

3- ooh yes one-shots are a different thing entirely, always a fun time.

4- coffin run FUCKS. my favorite non-intrepid heroes campaign, and it's only acofaf that comes sort of close. everyone needs to watch it, and if they've already watched it and don't appreciate it, they should try again. i could talk forever about it and how great it is.

5- yes. a million times yes please give us 20 episodes with aabria gming i'm begging. and in general yeah i'd love to see a guest dm have more time and space to flex. (except mercer please no more mercer in the dome)

6- i feel you. it took me a long time to get through tuc 2, this is a cody walsh hate account (half joking). and it took 3 attempts to get through pirates as well. honestly what got me through it was myrtle, cheese, and the little bit of garthy that we got. i found the other characters kinda annoying, big same on that accent, bob's was grating, too.

[hairstevington]

i can't tune you out (part 3)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Eddie and Chrissy become friends. Robin and Chrissy bond. Eddie and Steve strike a deal.

(part 1, part 2)

Word Count: 4.8K (it's a long one!)

Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie/Musician!Steve, modern day AU, enemies to lovers STILL very much enemies sorry I love a slow burn, Chrissy x Comphet, allusions to Chrissy having body issues, Hellcheer being wholesome, angst upon angst baybeeee, this chapter is very fun just bear with the boys absolutely despising each other lmao

A/N: Hello friends! From here on out, this fic will only be posted to my Ao3. If you're digging the story so far, go ahead and follow along here! To those that don't have accounts, I might be able to finesse some sort of system where I let you guys know when I've updated. Also, for those in need of Soft Steddie (tm), more "Flowers and Ink" is coming soon! Love y'all &lt;3

Eddie got to the bar before Chrissy did, but he kind of preferred it that way. It gave him a chance to sit down, order a drink, and settle into the environment before being thrust into more chaos. 

Sometimes, even though he thrived in insanity, he needed a moment to breathe. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, of course. 

“Hey, stranger!” Chrissy’s voice rang from behind him. He spun around and was surprised when she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He’d thought that she’d been extra sweet and friendly the night before because of the alcohol, but apparently that was just her vibe. It was actually really nice. 

“H-hi, Chrissy,” Eddie replied, hugging her back. She pulled away after one last squeeze, then plopped herself beside him. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” she answered. “I was up all night, so I slept most of the day. Now, I’ll probably be up all night again. Such is life.”

“Been there,” Eddie replied, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Can I get a vodka soda and two shots of tequila, please?” Chrissy asked the bartender.  

“Tequila?” Eddie asked, attempting to hide the disgust on his face. He hadn’t touched the stuff in years, after one fateful night involving a playground. Helpful tip - being drunk on a swing set is not the move.

“Tequila,” Chrissy confirmed with a smirk. “I’m invested now, and considering this is our first of potentially many drinks together, I figured we should start off with a bang.”

Eddie stared at her, blankly. She wanted to see him again after this? But he hadn’t even really done anything!

“Why are you so invested in this?” Eddie asked. 

“I dunno,” Chrissy replied with a shrug. The bartender put the vodka soda down in front of her, and she started mixing it around with the thin plastic straw. “I guess I’m just kinda…bored?”

“Bored?” Eddie repeated. “How could you be bored when you’re doing all the shit you do? Going to parties and photoshoots and - I mean, you barely know me.”

“My life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she responded. There was a flicker of sadness in her eyes, but it left as quickly as it had come. Chrissy sipped her drink, then thanked the bartender as she set the shots down. “Come on, let’s commemorate this!” 

She took out her phone and gestured for Eddie to hold his drink up so they could take a picture. He was blown away by the whole thing, honestly. He almost texted Carla just to be like - can you believe this shit? 

It all seemed too easy. She was too open to being his friend, and he didn’t know why. He’d worked hard and all that, but he didn’t feel like he was decent enough of a person to get any sort of karmic reward. So this all felt a little suspicious, but he tried to enjoy it anyway. 

They did the shot. At least Chrissy had sprung for the high-quality liquor. It was still kinda nasty. 

“How was the rest of the party?” he asked. 

“Good,” Chrissy responded with a tight-lipped smile. She didn’t add any details, which was odd, but she spoke again before Eddie could ask any follow-up questions. “So, what’s the deal with you? People say you’re dating Steve, but you didn’t even know what he looked like last night, soooo…”

Alright, here we go.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie began. “I’m not dating him, clearly.” No sense in lying to Chrissy when she already knew. 

“But you want to?” Chrissy asked. Eddie shrugged. He would have flat out told her the truth, but he was hesitant to give everything away immediately. Steve was the one with the power, and Eddie hated that. “Do I need to order us another shot?”

“Please, no,” Eddie shot back instantly. When Chrissy laughed, he realized she’d been joking. “Sorry, it’s just -”

“It’s okay,” Chrissy assured him. “Talking to people in this business is hard. You never know who you can trust. I used to be a lot more open, and then you kinda just learn that you…can’t be, most of the time.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly Chrissy felt she couldn’t tell people. Even moreso, he wanted to know who had broken her trust in the past. Then, he felt a pang of guilt, since he’d been mostly excited about this drink because it would boost his fame. Everything about all of this was corrupt and morally ambiguous. He sighed. 

“I’m just trying to make it out there,” Eddie admitted. “And I - I mean, I don’t know what to do, or how anything works.”

“Yeah, I remember what that’s like,” she empathized. She took a sip of her vodka soda, then turned back to Eddie. “Do you ever feel like -? I mean, do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”

“Uhhh, just on a daily basis,” Eddie replied. He and Chrissy smiled at each other, and he could feel her authenticity. Maybe it was stupid for him to open up to her, but he was going to do it anyway. “Chrissy, have you ever, uh - like, have you ever done one of those PR relationships?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replied, unfazed. “I can’t really say anything, but yeah. It happens a lot around here.” Eddie nodded, then sipped his drink. “Wait, are you trying to do that with me?”

“Not quite,” Eddie mumbled, his lips pressed to his glass.

“I thought you were gay,” she continued. 

“I am.”

“Oh, okay.” She thought about it for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she repeated. “Ohhhh!”

“Got any other letters?” Eddie teased. Chrissy giggled, then shoved him playfully. 

“You’re funny,” she said. Eddie wasn’t used to people enjoying his often wicked sense of humor. This was refreshing. “So, who’s idea was it?”

“My manager, I guess,” Eddie answered. “Well, she told me to use what the fans were saying and to meet up with the guy. But it, uh - it didn’t go well.”

“No?” she asked, surprised. “What happened?”

Eddie wanted to keep talking to Chrissy. He didn’t care that she was famous anymore - he wanted her perspective as someone who’d been through it. He also knew that Chrissy could tear him down just as quickly as she could build him up. 

“Did you mean what you said about us getting drinks more often?” he asked. 

“Yeah!” she replied, smiling brightly. “Like I said, you’re funny. And I - hmm. Okay, um. This next part might sound really bad at first, but I can explain.”

“Okay…” Eddie said, feeling his walls come back up. 

“I don’t really have a lot of male friends,” Chrissy admitted. “It always feels like - like they’re just waiting for their chance to strike.”

“Like, try to sleep with you?” Eddie asked. Chrissy nodded. “Oh. Christ, that sucks.” 

“Yeah,” she replied with a half shrug. 

He skipped the part where he doubted whether or not what she was saying was true, because it was clearly affecting her whether it was true or not. Eddie also had an urge to diffuse the tension with a joke, because that was kind of his thing.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he stated, “- are you trying to make me your gay best friend?” She bit her lip, fighting a guilty smile. “Cuz like, I’m down, but I’ve never really done this before so I don’t know what the role entails.” She stopped fighting the smile, so Eddie continued. “I mean, is there a rulebook out there? I think there’s a movie about this on Netflix. Should I watch that first?”

“Eddie!” She interrupted, fully laughing now. Eddie joined her, feeling accomplished that he’d lightened the mood and set her at ease again. “I’m in the modeling industry, I’m surrounded by gay men all the time. It’s not just about that, I promise.”

“Okay, then what is it?” Eddie wondered. She sighed, her body much more relaxed than it had been before.

“It’s just that everybody I’m around talks about their looks all the time. I mean, it’s our job to be beautiful, I know that, but it’s tiring to just constantly hear about new diets and calories and what I should and should not eat. It’s just - it’s nice to get away from that, sometimes. You’re nothing like them, and I like that.”

“Nothing like them, huh?” Eddie smirked. “Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” She laughed and shook her head. 

“Okay fine, you have one thing in common,” she teased back. “You’re not mad?”

“Nah,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “But while we’re coming clean, I definitely was excited to come here because I hoped I’d get more followers if we hung out.”

“Well, obviously,” Chrissy responded, flipping her hair. “Okay, so that’s out of the way. Can we stick together, then?”

She asked it so sweetly it made his heart ache. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replied. He thought back to what Chrissy had said earlier about her model friends and decided to commit to being the opposite. “So, uh, I dunno about you but I could really go for some fries right now.” 

Chrissy’s eyes widened. 

“I’d kill for some fries right now.”  

“Great,” he said, grinning. “Who are we killing?” They laughed together, and then he got the bartender’s attention so he could order.

-

“For the record, I’m not doing this for you.”

It took Robin less than two seconds to agree to going to the bar with Steve. Now, they were walking down the street so that they could spy on two people they barely knew but were somehow entangled with. 

“I know, I know,” Steve replied. 

The bar was in sight. Chrissy hadn’t tagged the location or anything, but he recognized the place because he went there often. So often that it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to show up with Robin. They’d done it before and they’d do it again. 

The plan was for them to discreetly sit at a table in the back. But then they were at the door, and then they were opening the door, and then they were immediately being stared down by a blonde and a brunette at the bar. 

Shit. 

“Steve, what do we do?” Robin muttered rapidly. 

“Uhhh,” he said, glancing over at the table he imagined they’d sit at. He thought about ignoring them and just sitting down, but they’d all already seen each other so that would have just been rude. “I think we just have to own it.”

“Own what? That we’re psychopaths?” Robin hissed. 

And then, Chrissy was waving them both over to join them.

“Just follow my lead,” Steve said. 

In hindsight, this plan had been really, really stupid. 

Steve knew that his cover for all this was to get Robin and Chrissy in the same room again. But truthfully, Steve didn’t know Chrissy’s deal or if she wanted anything other than friendship. Steve could say this had nothing to do with Eddie all he wanted, but that wasn’t true. 

He’d been wracking his brain all day to make sense of this. His fight with Eddie the night prior had been a little fuzzy, but one part of it really stuck with him. 

Just a few years of King Steve bullying the school freak.

Well, that comment plus Eddie saying that Steve’s music sucked. That stung, but he wasn’t expecting someone like Eddie to appreciate his music anyway. The truth was, Steve had left high school behind, and he’d moved on, and he’d forgotten the shit he’d done back then. All that bystander crap, the teasing, the little comments that Steve didn’t understand the impact of at the time. 

Steve didn’t like Eddie. He still thought Eddie was a dick. But that didn’t mean Steve hadn’t also been a dick back then. 

All of this was very complicated, and the residual headache from the hangover made his head spin. Actually, the dizziness was probably also from the hangover. The thought of drinking made him want to hurl. Good thing he was at a bar, right?

“Hey!” Chrissy said as they approached. “What are you guys doing here?!” She jumped up to hug Steve, then Robin, and Steve watched as his friend acted as if the physical contact with her crush didn’t affect her. 

“We, uh -” Steve began. “We come here a lot, actually. Well, I do. I live just down the road.” 

His gaze drifted to Eddie, who gave Steve a knowing smirk. 

“Oh my god, Robin, I’m actually so glad you’re here,” Chrissy said. “Your style is just - I mean, wow! Where do you get your clothes?”

Robin’s eyes landed on Steve’s for a nanosecond, but it was enough for him to know exactly what was going through her brain. Basically just the embodiment of a bunch of exclamation points. 

“I - I usually thrift them, actually!” Robin responded. 

Then, Chrissy continued asking where Robin thrifted, and whether she could come with sometime, and Steve figured they’d be at it for a while. 

Huh. Maybe there would be something there after all.

Of course, while they were talking, this left Steve to either stand there awkwardly or interact with Eddie. He probably would have chosen the awkward standing, had Eddie not chosen the opposite. 

“Well, if it isn’t HARVEST in the flesh. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie began. He was smiling, but his tone was biting. Steve looked at Eddie, nodded his head toward Chrissy and Robin, then looked back at Eddie. He shrugged. “Ah, I see.”

“Yeah.”

“No other reason?” Eddie prodded, playing dumb.

“Nope,” Steve said. “Like I said, I live right -”

“Down the road,” Eddie interrupted. “So I heard.” Steve swallowed. He kinda felt like he was being interrogated or something. Eddie was making this extremely uncomfortable. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve wondered, desperately wanting this interaction to be over. Unfortunately, Chrissy and Robin were still chatting eagerly. 

“Like what, HARVEST?” Eddie asked. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Steve is fine.”

“Hmm, is he though?” Eddie retorted. “I don’t think you want me to treat you like I treat Steve.”

God, Eddie knew how to push Steve’s buttons. His heart was racing, he was so mad. He clenched his jaw and considered how bad it would be to smack the smug grin off Eddie’s face.

Really bad. He knew that. He took deep breaths instead and relaxed. His hands had balled into fists at some point during the conversation. He extended his fingers out, flexing them. He was trying to leave this version of himself in the past, not bring him back. Another deep breath. 

“Whatever, Munson,” Steve sighed. “I just -”

“Hey, guys?” Robin said, diverting the attention to her. She pointed to the window, where a crowd of people had gathered. 

Some of them had cameras. 

“Shit,” Chrissy said. “How long do you think they’ve been there?”

“I dunno,” Steve responded. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy agreed. Eddie and Robin looked at each other this time, both outside of Chrissy and Steve’s shared understanding. 

Good thing all of them looked nice. Those pictures were gonna be all over the place tomorrow. 

Steve was here a lot, so he knew the bartenders and the owners, and he also knew how to sneak out when things like this happened. 

“Come on,” he said, urging Chrissy to follow him. With Steve came Robin, and Eddie sure as hell didn’t want to be left there alone, so he came too. Oh, joy. 

The four of them walked past the bar and through a sign marked for employees only. They wandered through the kitchen and left out a black door that led to an alley behind the building. 

“So, what now?” Robin asked once they were outside. 

“I’ll give them about two minutes until they find us,” Steve replied. 

“Is there somewhere else we could go?” Chrissy wondered. “I kind of don’t want to go home yet.”

“Well, I know HARVEST over here lives nearby,” Eddie said. 

“Will you quit it with the HARVEST thing?” Steve complained. 

“Sorry, do you prefer Harvey?” Eddie shot back. Steve groaned. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Oh, boy,” Chrissy mumbled. 

“I know, right?” Robin agreed. “Steve, can we go back to yours?”

“All of us?” Steve asked, knowing the answer already. It was his apartment. He could have flat out said that Eddie wasn’t allowed in. But he saw the look in Robin’s eyes, and he knew that if they all went back to the apartment, she could spend more time with Chrissy. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

-

Steve’s apartment was nice. It was huge, spacious, and all the utilities worked. It was also minimalist in that Steve hadn’t put up any decorations. He had the essentials - a couch, a TV, a table. Not much more. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to have people over,” Steve said as they walked in. 

“It’s beautiful,” Chrissy said. 

“It’s empty,” Eddie noted. His apartment was a lot smaller, but it also was a lot more filled up. This place had nothing, basically. Eddie almost made a comment about Steve not having any money to decorate after paying what he assumed was an absurd rent, but he held his tongue. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Robin agreed. “I keep throwing ideas his way, but he’d rather live in an asylum, basically.”

“I’m not here that often,” Steve explained, shrugging. “Sue me.”

“It definitely could use some color,” Chrissy agreed. “Art on the walls, maybe a rug -”

“Yes! Exactly!” Robin exclaimed. “I even have a Pinterest board.”

“Oh my god, can I see it?” Chrissy asked. Robin nodded, and then they were both sitting across the room looking at decor or some shit. All of the logistical stuff related to interior design was beyond Eddie. He just bought things that he liked and then put them where they best fit. He didn’t know anything about color-coding, and he didn’t even know what Pinterest was. 

Anyway, Robin and Chrissy bonding so aggressively and so immediately (which was interesting, to say the least) left Eddie semi-alone with Steve once again. 

“Can we talk?” Steve asked, surprising the hell out of Eddie. He had given Steve zero reason to want to talk to him, he’d made sure of it. Like, Eddie had been at his maximum asshole level for a few reasons. First and foremost, it was payback for high school. Second, it was fun. And third, because Eddie didn’t like Steve, and because he currently didn’t have anywhere else to direct his anger. 

He didn’t say they were good reasons. 

“Uh, suuuuure,” Eddie replied. Steve gestured for Eddie to follow him down the hall so they could have some privacy. 

Oh, great. Now we’re fully alone.

-

Chrissy was amazing. She was wonderful. She was everything Robin hoped she’d be. It was almost too good to be true. No, it was definitely too good to be true. 

They were huddled over Robin’s phone, talking about color theory and decorations which turned into art and hobbies which turned into a discussion about college (Robin went, Chrissy didn’t) and then finally their conversation settled on music. 

“Have you listened to their stuff?” Robin asked, gesturing towards where the boys had gone. It had been a few minutes and no arguing or fights breaking out yet, as far as she could tell. Of course, she hadn’t been listening that intently. 

“Sure,” Chrissy responded. “Corroded Coffin not so much, but that’s just because I’m not into that sort of music.”

“Very fair.”

“Yeah. But HARVEST I hear all the time. That one song is literally impossible to escape from.”

“Oh, we know,” Robin replied with a laugh. “Steve secretly can’t stand it’s that song that blew up.”

“What do you mean?” Chrissy wondered. 

“Like, it’s definitely his most commercial song,” Robin explained. “I’ve been listening to Steve’s music since we met, and it’s a little out there sometimes, but now that I’m used to it I’m all for it. Anyway, his favorite songs are the ones most people haven’t heard. That’s why his new album is - I mean that’s why he -” 

Robin stopped herself from saying the rest. Chrissy was great, but Robin wasn’t about to spill all of her best friend’s secrets.

“That’s why he what?” Chrissy teased, nudging Robin in the shoulder. 

Dammit. It was really hard to avoid temptation when temptation was someone as vibrant as Chrissy Cunningham. 

“That’s why he’s so excited about it,” Robin concluded. 

Thank god. I can keep my best friend card.

“Oh, okay,” Chrissy said, nodding. “I’ll have to listen to his other stuff then.”

“Let me know what you think,” Robin replied. 

“Of course I will.” Chrissy smiled, then pulled out her phone. To Robin’s surprise, she handed it to her with an empty contact open. 

Holy shit.

Robin typed in her name and number, then triple checked to make sure she put it in correctly before handing the phone back to Chrissy.

“There you go,” she said, doing her best to remain calm. 

“Thank you,” Chrissy said. “Wow, it’s so crazy. First with Eddie, now with you. I just feel like we’re all going to be really good friends.”

Friends. GOD. Ouch. 

Robin probably should have expected that. She had expected it, really, but it stung nonetheless. That was okay. They could be friends. Robin cleared her throat and hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed. 

“Yeah, if the two idiots in there can get their shit together,” Robin joked. 

“I know!” Chrissy agreed. “Like, what’s going on with them?”

“I honestly have no idea.” She looked down the hall, still not hearing any arguing.

If she’d been alone, she would have pressed her ear to the door and listened in, but she had to be on her best behavior. You know, for her new friend.

-

“Sooo, what the hell is going on?” Eddie asked once they were in a different room. It looked like an office. There was music equipment everywhere. 

“I’m just gonna go ahead and tell you a bunch of shit, okay? Because the last hour or so has been crazy and I’m still kind of hungover and I’m not interested in doing a whole dance with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear last night when you didn’t dance with me,” Eddie deadpanned. 

“Jesus,” Steve exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you just -”

“You wanna tell me something, so skip the preamble and tell me -” 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Steve snapped. “I’m sorry for - I’m sorry about high school. I was an idiot.”

Oh. Well, shit. 

“Past tense?” Eddie teased. 

“Go to hell.”

“Okay, okay, point taken,” he relented with a light chuckle. “Thanks. I appreciate the apology.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” Eddie confirmed. “Don’t worry, I’m still iffy about you for a bunch of other reasons.”

“Great,” Steve said, returning Eddie’s sarcastic tone. 

“Cool,” Eddie replied. “So, is that it?”

“No.”

“No?” Eddie prodded. 

“Wait, what are the other reasons?” Steve asked, losing his train of thought. Eddie scoffed. 

“You want me to tell you why I don’t like you?” Eddie rebuffed. “Are you into that or something?”

“No, I just -”

“Come on, spit it out,” he demanded. “The quicker you say what you’re gonna say, the less time we have to talk to each other. What is it?”

Steve took a deep breath. 

“I want my album to do well, and ever since this whole steddie thing happened, people have actually started talking about it, and -”

“Waaaait a goddamn second,” Eddie drawled. “Are you saying you want to actually, like, do the fake relationship thing?”

“No, I just don’t want to deny it,” Steve responded. “Let them talk, you know.”

Eddie almost laughed. Jesus Christ, this was rich. Eddie thought he’d be the one begging for scraps, yet here he was, in Steve’s apartment, listening to his high school bully ask him for a favor. 

Eddie weighed his options. If he said no, it would feel great in the moment, but then this would be over. 

The tables were turning, and he wasn’t going to let a bit of his power go to waste.

“Hmm, very interesting, Harvey,” he said. “The King’s come crawling back to the freak.” Steve scoffed. 

“Our fake relationship benefits you more than me, you do realize that, right?” he reminded Eddie. “I’m just fine on my own. You get a popularity boost from this, so maybe you should try not to be a total asshole for once. I could find literally anyone else to do this with.”

The thing was, Eddie knew that wasn’t true. He could see right through the bullshit. 

“You’re bluffing,” Eddie stated. 

“What?”

“You’re bluffing,” he repeated. “Lest we forget you’re the one who asked me to go along with this.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, ‘lest we forget.’ Why do you talk like that?” 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Edde said, his eyes boring into Steve’s. 

“What question?”

“Come on, Harrington. You want me. Why?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, but didn’t break away. 

“Okay, calm down with the whole ‘I want you’ thing, alright?” Steve’s agitation was just too cute. It was so easy to rile him up. “I’m doing this for my album, just like you are.”

“Yeaaah, I don’t buy it. What else is it?” Eddie couldn’t help it. He had to keep pushing. 

“There’s nothing else, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me, then,” he teased. “Let me guess. All those years ago when you laughed at me in high school, you were really just harboring some hidden crush on me that didn’t fully come to fruition until you saw me at Frolique?”

Steve’s face went pale, and for a moment Eddie wondered if he’d gone too far.

“Oh my god,” Steve scoffed. “Could you not be a jackass for literally one second?”

“Wait, was I right?” Eddie took a step forward, intrigued by the idea. 

“No, you weren’t right, Munson,” Steve insisted. “I didn’t have a crush on you, I was just a dick.”

Ah. So much for that. Eddie shook his head and smiled. 

“And now you’re just so goddamn pleasant, huh?” He turned to look at all the expensive shit Steve kept in there - high-tech recording equipment, instruments, microphones, sheet music. 

“Usually, yeah,” Steve replied. “I’m actually nice to most people.” Eddie’s eyes were still focused on the sheet music, an increasing curiosity within him, but he held back and returned his focus to Steve.

“Aw, so I’m the exception? See, I knew I was special.”

If being a dick was so bad, then why was it so fun?

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Steve asked.

“Oh god, sooooo many things,” Eddie replied. He meant it, too. He knew he had issues, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk to Steve about them. “And for the record, I can be pleasant too. Just ask Chrissy.”

“When did you get so close with her, anyway?”

“Since about an hour ago,” Eddie answered. “Anyway, I’m an absolute delight, Harrington. I only bite when it’s fun.”

“Then you must be having the time of your goddamn life,” Steve remarked. 

It wasn’t not true, but once again, Eddie needed to be unpredictable. He just had this compulsive need to throw Steve off, to keep him guessing. Yeah, being an asshole to Steve Harrington was fun, but Eddie didn’t forget how much he hated the guy and everything he stood for. 

“God, I wish,” he replied. “I hate this, but I’ll have fun when I can. I mean, my career is important, too. Why do you think I made a big fool of myself at that party? I fucking danced in public so that I could talk to you. I already told you - I don’t like your music, or your weird persona, and I don’t really care for you off-stage either.”

“Yeah? Well, the feeling is mutual,” Steve shot back. 

Eddie smirked, a fire within him that somehow bloomed and burned at the same time. Matter is neither created nor destroyed right? Eddie was never that good in school, but that phrase always stuck with him. The fire - the anger, the pain, the hurt - it fueled him and it broke him down. An endless cycle. What he loved. What he didn’t. All of it was the same.

“Let me be fucking clear,” Eddie said. “I’m not doing this because it’s fun. I’m doing it because I get something out of it, got it?”

“Got it,” Steve replied. The air between them was tense, and it made Eddie feel alive. 

“Okay,” he said at last. “Then we’ll let them talk.”

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

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