#you will have to look for it elsewhere....iykyk

[xivymoonartx]

liddol portrait study of my friend's evil wizard oc who is living rent free in my brain rn 👁👁 💦 Calum belongs to 🌟 @veiledbyart 🌟

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Disney Princes

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Also features x f!Reader as their equivalent Disney princesses.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 1.8k words

From the Wizarding World to magical fairytales, let’s crown our beloved Slytherin boys as the following Disney princes:

Theodore Nott as Prince Charming (Cinderella)

Note: Prince Charming doesn’t have much personality in the original 1950s film, but we learn more about him in later films, where I drew information from.

✭ Raised in privilege as a prince, Theodore Nott lived a very charmed life just as the name Prince Charming suggests.

✭ With only royals and commoners to distinguish class, he is less prejudiced and more accepting of others. His father taught him at an early age that they have a responsibility to their people just as their people serve them.

✭ Because of this, he is open and friendly to everyone, including animals. He was once hunting down a deer only for it to be a game in the end, him and the deer are actually friends. (Note: Yes this is canon Prince Charming and is very Theo as well.)

✭ If Disney were less wholesome, Theo as Prince Charming would have regular lovers, but it will only always be physical. He has not yet found a connection with anyone, but it doesn’t matter because he enjoys sex. He certainly never runs out of women to sleep with.

✭ Beneath all the charm, he secretly hopes to find a love match. The kind of relationship that transcends strategy and status. He longs for passion and romance, much like in the books he reads in the castle’s library, though he’ll never let anyone know.

✭ His father in the meantime is keen to see him married to an eligible maiden so he threw a ball. He rolled his eyes and yawned when no one was looking, initially bored because he still couldn’t find the connection he longed for. At this point, he doubted he’d ever find it. 

✭ Then he met you. You in your light blue dress and glass slippers. Everything about you sparkled and it ignited something in his heart. He never knew romantic love before you, but he recognized it right away.

✭ He wouldn’t care that you were a commoner, he’d admire your courage and kindness once he got to know you. Besides, true love was far more valuable than any precious metals and gems.

✭ After you ran off, your glass slipper gave him hope. He was going to stop at nothing to find you, his true love.

Mattheo Riddle as Flynn Rider (Tangled)

⋆☀︎. Left to his own devices, Mattheo Riddle would go on countless adventures across different kingdoms and forests, thieving only as a means to an end so he could survive. 

⋆☀︎. He enjoys the rush, being chased by the authorities and not being held down by rules or responsibilities. (Except they can never get his damn nose right on Wanted signs despite the distinct cut he has on the bridge of his nose iykyk.)

⋆☀︎. With his charming personality and irresistible smolder, he’s an expert in banding together with fellow criminals and often smooth talks his way into ladies’ beds. All temporary partnerships for his on-the-go lifestyle.

⋆☀︎. Until one day he comes across you, the girl with golden hair and big eyes — not to be underestimated with your ferocious pan wielding tendencies. He learns the last part a little too late, the hard way.

⋆☀︎. As he promised to take you to see the floating lights in exchange for the crown, he finds himself having fun swinging his fists and learning about your power to bring out the good in people.

⋆☀︎. You managed to charm tough guys in a bar, getting them to talk about their dreams—of being a florist, of performing on stage, and of falling in love. He realizes it may not be so bad to go on adventures with someone else.

⋆☀︎. He was already mesmerized before he learned about your magical hair. He saw the light within you long before that enchanted night when lanterns floated through the air like stars hung low just for you. And of course, they were always meant for you.

⋆☀︎. Before Mother Gothel could plunge the weapon in him, he already knew he was a goner. He knew he could never go back to who he was. He was now and forever going to be a moth to your flame, your soul as radiant as the sun even long after your golden hair turned brown.

Blaise Zabini as Kristoff (Frozen)

•❅*ִ Much like Kristoff, Blaise Zabini exudes a quiet confidence that does not need to declare itself.

•❅*ִ As an ice harvester who works with ice picks, hooks and ropes, he has an athletic build and a tough exterior, but do not be fooled for he has a soft heart within.

•❅*ִ Having grown among trolls and reindeers, he sometimes gets frustrated when interacting with people. He believes reindeers are better than people, but all that changes when he meets you.

•❅*ִ He is very practical and honest, but when he is blunt he often means well. He is quick to call you out on the fact that you’re about to marry a man you hardly know.

•❅*ִ He initially agrees to help you end winter to save his ice business and get a new sled. However, the more challenges you face together, he grows to admire your fearlessness and determination.

•❅*ִ While you initially find him to be annoying, you soon discover his charming and funny side.

•❅*ִ He will however suppress his feelings for you, thinking it’s better to let it go because you’re already engaged anyway. But when truths are revealed and no one is who they appear to be, you’ll melt his frozen heart with a kiss on the cheek.

Draco Malfoy as Li Shang (Mulan)

✿ To Draco Malfoy, loyalty and family legacy is important, just like Li Shang who aims to be just as great as his father, the head of the Imperial Chinese Army.

✿ He is disciplined and has mastered both physical and strategic ways of waging war. He has a lot of traditional beliefs, including making a man out of his troops using elaborate physical training.

✿ He starts questioning those beliefs when he sees your determination as Ping, using both weights to climb up the pole even though it took you countless failures throughout the night. What were these confusing feelings in his chest?

✿ Yet he couldn’t deny it, nor would he try. He was ready to lay his life down for you even before you saved him. It didn’t take him long to return the favor when he found out you were a woman and so he spared your life.

✿ Despite his firm upbringing, he was always loyal to his heart. Even though you betrayed the army, he knew your intentions had been good and that your hard work made you a skilled soldier.

✿ He listened and trusted your last ditch efforts to save the Emperor, even resorting to cross dressing as part of the plan. It all paid off as you saved the Emperor and all of China. 

✿ In the end, you were absolved of your deceit and honored for your heroism, finally letting your reflection show who you are and what you’re made of. Your final crime was stealing his heart.

Tom Riddle as Aladdin (Aladdin)

✶ Tom Riddle grew up as an orphan and resorted to a life of crime to survive in Agrabah. Secretly, he enjoyed it too.

✶ Smitten by your beauty, he saved you from a merchant at the market and he was impressed with your agility when it came to dodging the authorities.

✶ When you reached Aladdin’s home, you revealed you were from the palace and left thinking you’d never see him again. He longed to visit the palace to get another glimpse of your beauty.

✶ Named as a diamond in the rough, Jafar recognized Tom’s talent and recruited him to steal the magic lamp from the Cave of Wonders. Encouraged by the promise of riches (therefore power) and a subconscious need to please Jafar, he takes on the task, saving a magic carpet in the process.

✶ Back at the palace, your father sought to marry you off to find a successor to his throne. You met suitors, including a flashy prince called Ali from Ababwa.

✶ On a magic carpet ride, you trick Ali into admitting he’s the thief you previously met at the market. He manipulates you into thinking he’s the prince and the thief persona was just an act for him to get to know the city better.

✶ When Jafar uncovers Tom’s identity, he steals the magic lamp and wreaks havoc using the genie’s wishes. Understanding Jafar’s ego, he tricks him into wishing to be the most powerful being in the universe, which imprisons Jafar in his own lamp as a genie.

✶ Instead of using his last wish to continue being the rightful prince who can marry you, he used it to free the genie, as he has now learned how power corrupts others. It wasn’t worth it.

✶ Crowned as the next sultana, you recognized how our actions and choices defined us. Despite Tom’s manipulations, he showed up and was willing to learn. He was not afraid to look into the dark and make the right decisions when it mattered, a husband fit for a ruler.

Lorenzo Berkshire as Jack Frost (Rise of The Guardians)

Before you come at me, I know Jack Frost is not a Disney prince, but I’m a Jelsa truther so here we are.

❅ Lorenzo Berkshire mirrors Jack Frost’s love for mischief and games. As the guardian of fun, he enjoys playing harmless tricks on children and hearing them laugh as a result.

❅ Beneath the playful exterior, he deeply cares for those around him, having saved his sister from a frozen lake. His ultimate sacrifice led to his untimely demise, which the Man in The Moon rewarded him by making him immortal and granting him powers. 

❅ He never found much need for romance, opting to spend his days playing with children and visiting his fellow guardians instead. Until one day, he visits the Enchanted Forest and comes across you, its mighty protector.

❅ Despite the initial distrust, he wins you over with his easy smile and sincerity. You never realized it until then, how lonely it was to be an ice queen without her king.

❅ Jack was also amazed to find someone else who could play with the magic of snow. He felt seen and understood like never before. For once, the loneliness in his heart melted away.

❅ So you spent your days together, laughing over silly jokes and exchanging stories. The cold never bothered you, but being with him made you understand why people enjoyed the sweetness of hot cocoa and why they cuddled close to a fire.

❅ Both your friends and family were happy for you. One day, Jack asked you to invite everyone so you can have a contest on who built the best sculptures. Your audience and judges comprised of Jack’s fellow Guardians, Queen Anna and King Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.

❅ You showed off with iced gardens, towers, and even the shape of Sven, but none was more impressive as when you turned around to find Jack on one knee, a gleaming diamond in his hand. It was a picture perfect moment with ice sculptures in the background, celebrated with loved ones. 

❅ And soon, the ice queen would never be without her king.  

✿ Masterlist <- read more!

[cloveroctobers]

MONOPOLY — Armando Aretas [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: I guess I’m remaining in my Armando writing bag but this was a request from: @dasaniswrlddd & this is mostly a Drabble small work that was also inspired by my boys who’s EP you should check the rest out after reading. It’s only fitting 😉 & you’re welcome!

S/N: the request included Armando dating an older woman, he’s twenty-eight so maybe the reader is thirty-eight? Forty’s? or as old as you are if you’re a older reader lol + mentions of a certain character from the film, “Rebel Ridge,” IYKYK 😉 + a little 🌶️ in there somewhere!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ¹³⁾ frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise + ²⁰⁾ rich vanilla perfume.

SYNOPSIS: Armando’s not as good at hiding his feelings for you.

<- read my previous September anthology prompt here.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

when Armando was informed that you got hurt out in Italy, he made it his mission to get on the next flight. AMMO was working on a case that would require them to fly out there by the end of the week so he just went earlier, despite the knowing look detective Mike sent his way.

He knows his son became fond of you quickly once they worked with your team, although Armando tried to hide it, it became obvious to Mike. Watching Armando analyze every move you made with admiration and how you commanded orders within your own team. When your team got involved that meant it was more than serious and Secada always made your team the last option if AMMO needed back up. Things tended to get reckless in the moment but you always made sure to clean up well.

Over the last few years you haven’t been getting your hands as dirty, something Armando overheard you sharing with Secada and Detective Lowrey, having your team do most of the work while you supervised but that didn’t mean you forgot everything that you’ve learned. Which is why you have a dagger jammed up right against Armando’s throat, bag of frozen peas dropped to both of your feet as you had Armando pressed up against the wall of the villa out in Collesano.

“Armando,” you stated, “did you really think it was the best idea to sneak up on me?”

He lowers his raised hands, “that wasn’t really my intent.”

“Find that hard to believe.”

“…so you don’t trust me now?” He questioned while peering at you underneath his eyelashes and brimmed hat.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

Armando exhales at this. He doesn’t take it personal since it was someone on your team that ended up being a rat in the first place. Setting you up to be killed while also murdering one of your members you were closest to in cold blood and the way the rest of your team was ambushed, was the ultimate betrayal so he understood where this was coming from.

“Then why am I not dead yet?” His low voice inquires.

You smirked as you lowered the dagger, “the night is still young.”

Armando can’t help but to roll his eyes as you step back from him but he can’t help but to reach forward and pinch your chin, turning your face to the side as he viewed the damage done to your face first. He feels his jaw tighten at the long scar that traveled from the bottom of your ear to the curve of your jaw. It was the beginning of the symbol of an Italian gang here, blade pulled just right to begin the markings of an, “X,” in cursive but they didn’t get to finish the job.

Yet this would scar in more ways than one.

“Be a doll and grab those peas for me?” Your attempt to bring Armando’s attention elsewhere was noted as his eyes flicked back to yours for a moment, silently telling you that he wanted details and he was going to get them from your mouth instead of Secada’s and Mike’s.

He lowers himself, eyes locked on yours still as he reaches for the frozen bag, “where?”

You take the peas and place them underneath your shirt, where Armando gets a peek of your ribcage wrapped in a white bandage. He exhaled at that, relieved that you actually went to the hospital to get checked out. He knew how much you dreaded those visits.

You’re leaning against the island for support, as you take most of the pressure from standing upright and shift to your right—where there’s no bruising on that side of your ribs. “So…what brings you to Collesano? Did you finally decide that you needed a change of scenery from Miami and Mexico City?”

Armando gives you a deadpan glance as he fires back, “I never would have pictured Italy as a place to live low for you. Tell me, when did you buy this property?”

You scoff, stiffly shifting to grab that hard liquor that’s waiting in the square glass for you. Throwing it back with clenched eyes you respond, “Maybe I’m borrowing it.”

“From who?” Armando crossed his arms, “Terry?” He almost spits out the man’s name, which makes you quirk up a brow.

You start, “I’m not…doing this with you tonight so if you came here to brood or whatever—I’m not here for it.”

Armando stepped to you then, “I came here to be with you, no bullshit. Got here as fast as I could. Something the other guy isn’t even here doing.”

Sighing you dip your head as Armando has his heated stare locked only on you, “…while I appreciate that…I can take care of myself, thank you. I’m grown.”

“That you are,” Armando unapologetically scans his eyes over your frame before settling comfortably back on your face, “but there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in from time to time.”

“You should take your own advice, Aretas.” You huffed, as you searched his eyes, making him blink his own stare away as he rubbed at his beard in annoyance.

He was aware of what you were getting at. You’ve been around to see his interactions with Detective Mike Lowrey, even worked with him and Marcus previously when you first got your team together. Mike was certainly a ladies man and was damn good at his job…a little sloppy at times but as well as you knew Mike, you genuinely believed if he knew about Armando, he would have made an effort to be there even if it was painfully awkward. That was a conversation that was just as old as Armando’s opinion on “the other guy,” you were legally married to.

That’s right, you were technically spoken for.

To keep it simple it was a MACP thing really and a story for a different time!

“Yeah well clearly the both of us have the patience.” He states, his gaze going back to the scar on your face, “I’ll be back.”

Sarcastically you say, “aw but you just got here!”

Armando snorts as he starts backing away, “don’t worry mami, I’m not goin’ too far but try not to miss me too much.”

He winks.

“Oh, Please.” You scoff, turning to pour yourself another shot.

When Armando returns, it really wasn’t that long as you just managed to sit yourself up at the high chair by the island counter. That was a a job within itself thanks to your bruised ribs and you knew you could have easily picked one of the many couches in this villa, preferably the two seat sofa that’s right by the open window next to the kitchen but of course you liked to be difficult.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel Armando’s hands dig into your tense shoulders from behind. He gets a light whiff of your vanilla perfume, it’s usually potent—rich—enough that it lingers in the air whenever you’re near. Right now it’s faint but it still makes him want to trail his nose up the slope of your neck.

“Hey,” he begins, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Looking over your shoulder, the exhaustion has settled on your face and in that moment it almost shocks Armando that you don’t put up a fight. He holds onto your hand as you take your time getting down from the chair, a firm but gentle hold goes around your waist as he leads the way to the full bath he managed to find on the first level of the home.

The water is steaming and just what you needed. Armando was always onto you and knew the moment he caught sight of you tonight, he no problem providing. You manage to peel your clothes off and Armando’s concern is all over his face once he gets to see the black, blue, and purple bruises with your back turned to him. Those weren’t the only ones on your beautiful body but the ones on your ribs were the most upsetting.

He regains his composure, springing forward to help lower you into the water, head going right back against the pillow along the tub. Your eyes are closed and he almost coached you to sleep, running the pad of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. He was falling deep and he only had himself to blame if you ever broke his heart.

Part of him believes you won’t.

This has been going on long enough for Armando to have faith in whatever this was. Even when he was locked up, your connection never seemed to falter. Call him a fool but Armando was certain he’s never felt this kind of a way about anybody before you.

He’ll cater to you and sure you’ll give him a hard time, initially finding it all fun and dangerous games at first but that all shifted pretty quickly although in Armando’s mind, it felt like forever for you to admit your truth.

That you were feeling him more than you wanted to too. Which is why you allowed him to stay with you, help you bathe and briefly come to terms with what all transpired, even if you tried to block it out.

Even when you laid on top of him afterwards in one of the foreign bedrooms, he didn’t let go of you as you listened to the thud of his heartbeat and he took on the weight of you, all of it because he loved you—even if you didn’t want to hear him say it.

You felt it then and even more now that he came all this way for you.

The both of you wouldn’t be getting any sleep due to past traumas but that was left in the dark of the room. There’s buzzing that fills the heavy silence, you reach out clicking on the phone to silence it before flipping it back over.

“That could be important.” Armando mumbled.

‘Could be your husband,’ He thinks to himself.

You sniff, shifting to rest your chin onto the back of your hand, “Nothing else is important right now.”

“Yeah?” Armando quizzes, tucking his own chin to look at you, heart beating even harder now underneath your hands.

Wincing you lean forward, lips hovering over his, “Yeah.”

That was all the confirmation Armando needed as he moves to cradle your head and quickly places his lips right on yours. There’s a sigh of relief that escaped your lips as you both go into a battle trying to take the lead, which makes you laugh and a usual faint dimple appear on one side of Armando’s cheek. It’s when his tongue touches yours and he gets a nice grip on your ass with both hands that the humor fizzles away.

Armando’s attentive as you slowly take your place on top, hands gripping your hips against the silk night slip that you’re in now. “You sure you should be—

He starts but one move, has his hold digging into your hips, his head thrown back while biting down on his bottom lip. A laugh escapes your lips and Armando has to peek at you while he soaks in the real feel of you, your hair is a curtain around your face shape and the smirk on your face picks at his ego but he can’t complain and say he isn’t fond of this position.

“What was that?” You tease, “Don’t worry about me baby, I got you.”

Armando has to remind himself to breathe and you haven’t moved yet. His suddenly damp hands slip against the material of your nightwear, but he had to watch as he slides it back. That image alone makes a grunt spill from his lips and that’s enough to let you continue but Armando is always ready for your games.

When you separate just enough, he gains leverage himself, angling his own hips upwards while choosing to guide your hips downwards this time, erupting a pretty noise from your mouth. It’s his turn to smirk up at you, when you snap your attention back to his eyes while you fall over. Your elbows are beside his head now since sitting upright wouldn’t work at this time and especially with Armando’s own move he just pulled.

“Hi.” He smiles at you.

You scowl, “pendejo.”

That scowl releases when he places a lingering kiss right above where your new scar is. Gently he flips you both over and gazed at you so lovingly that some might say it was too much to bear.

It’s a pecking fight between your lips while Armando is on his knees but you can fight dirty when you want to and that gets him to move against you. Rocking you into the bed and loving you properly just like you knew he could.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[jinkoh]

winning

haknyeon x fem!reader

summary: haknyeon is a good friend, so of course he wants eric to listen to his heart and be happy. that's the only reason he tells him not to get back together with you—or is it?

tags: friends (?) to ?, suggestive, hooking up, (light) manipulation, alcohol consumption, rich kid au, unrequited love, non-linear story telling

wc: 2.5k

a/n: you could consider this a gossip girl au--iykyk lol anway this is kind of a mess but i had to get it out of my system so here we are

Masterlist

Haknyeon watched you with hawk eyes as you came through the door of the hotel bar, your steps sharp and your make-up just the tiniest bit smudged. His instincts told him something must have happened with Eric—or maybe it was the fact that he remembered you were supposed to be having a very special date with him tonight, planning to take things a step further. You pulled up the stool next to him to sit down and immediately looked for the bartender, who seemed busy chatting with some girls at the other end of the counter.

“What brings you here?” Haknyeon asked, propping up his chin on the palm of his hand, “Weren’t you supposed to spend the night elsewhere?”

“Shut up, Hak,” you scoffed, still trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Don’t be like that, sunshine,” he said with a smile, pushing his drink in your direction. “Tell me what happened, I’ll lend you an ear.” 

You didn’t hesitate to take the glass and down it in one go. “As if I still need to tell you. I’m sure Eric told you he was going to dump me, and you watched me run into this disaster of a night, probably laughing behind my back that I thought I could save this relationship if I—,” you interrupted yourself before putting the words out there, opting to wave for the bartender instead, who finally noticed you and moved to refill your—Haknyeon’s—glass. Meanwhile Haknyeon was just staring at you in disbelief.

“He dumped you?” He felt genuinely surprised. He did know that Eric had been acting a little weird these days, but he never thought he would actually consider breaking up with you, not when Eric’s family was so keen on your relationship.

“Don’t even pretend to care.”

You tried so hard to look composed, your pride keeping you from breaking down, but Haknyeon saw the way your hands trembled when you lifted the refilled glass to your lips.

“But I do,” he whispered, “I do care.”

Haknyeon’s mind was stuck elsewhere, cold and empty bed sheets mainly, so he was barely able to pay attention to what his friend was saying—at least until your name suddenly got mentioned.

“I think I’ll get back together with y/n.” Eric said it so casually, as if that weren’t the worst news Haknyeon had ever heard. He stopped in his tracks, feet rooted to the park’s pebbled path. 

“What?”

“Maybe the break up was kinda rash.”

“Was it really? You said it was for the best when you broke up with her. Why suddenly change your mind? Realized you love her after all?”

Eric bit his lower lip. “It’s not that,” he mumbled. “It's just—it's really important to my family that I stay with her. They even brought up Grandma's engagement ring.”

“The ring, huh?” Haknyeon tried to play it cool, huffing a weak laugh, “It’s that serious?”

“They need that deal with her mom and she might not invest because of the break up…” 

Haknyeon could tell from the way his shoulders slumped that Eric wasn’t happy about this. He didn’t want to get back together with you, he didn’t want to toy with your feelings like that, but he didn’t want to disappoint his family either.

“Still,” Haknyeon looked at his friend with concern, “Shouldn’t you listen to your heart on this? Think it through before you do anything. Don’t be a pushover, don’t make yourself miserable.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Eric kicked a pebble with his foot, “But I’ve already texted her to meet up tonight. Talk things through, you know?

“You—what?”

He shrugged and it looked truly pitiful. “They really put pressure on me, you know?”

Haknyeon sighed, running his hand through his hair. He’d been convinced things between the two of you were over, for good. “But you don’t love her,” he reasoned. 

 “I’m sure I could, if I just try hard enough.”

“It's not about trying, Eric. And even then, are you sure you can make her love you?"

“What do you mean?” Eric looked genuinely confused at his words, perhaps even hurt. “She loves me—she said she did?”

“You broke up with her. She moved on.”

“How do you know?” There was a frown etched onto his features.

Haknyeon pressed his lips together, a show of how painful it was to be the harbinger of bad news to his good friend. “I didn't want to tell you, but she hooked up with someone else after your break up.”

“Who is it? And who told you that?”

“Does it matter? She doesn’t want you anymore, Eric."

It was a lie. You would always want him, Haknyeon knew that very well. He just wished it was different.

Haknyeon hadn’t met with you since the night of your break up with Eric, but god, how he’d longed to see you again. You looked pretty, all dolled up, and Haknyeon hated that it wasn’t for him.

“What’s up, sunshine?” He put on a smile, sitting down next to you at the very same counter where you’d shared drinks just a week ago.

“What do you want, Hak?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” With a small wave of his hand the bartender poured him a drink and sat it down in front of him.

“Whatever, just don’t get too comfortable. I’m waiting for someone.”

“Eric?” He took a sip of his drink, “are you sure he’ll come?”

“He’s just running late,” you insisted, nursing your own glass, but Haknyeon could see the insecurity in your eyes.

“Wanna bet, if you’re so confident?”

“Sure, bring it on.”

A smile spread on Haknyeon’s lips. “Alright. If you win, I’ll owe you a favor.”

“Anything goes?”

“Anything.”

“And if I lose?”

“You’ll be mine.” He held out his hand, “Deal?”

You frowned. “What kind of bet is that?”

“Where did your confidence go? There is nothing to worry about, unless of course, you don’t think he’ll show up after all?” Haknyeon knew you were too prideful to back down from the challenge, and you proved him right when you took his hand.

“Fine. Deal. But now leave, he'll come any second and I don't want you to be here."

"As you wish." He took his glass and sat down in one of the corner booths instead, with a good view of the door. He knew Eric wouldn’t come, he knew, and yet there was still this underlying fear that his friend would come waltzing in here, as if today's conversation had never happened. Maybe Haknyeon hadn’t been able to convince him, maybe he'd changed his mind, maybe he'd realized in the face of losing you that he was in love with you after all—there were too many variables for Haknyeon to feel truly calm. Not that he would ever let it show, though. No, Haknyeon nursed his drink with class and confidence, indulging whoever came to start a conversation with him and pretending not to grow more nervous with every second. That was, until you appeared at the booth, not meeting his gaze when you laid your phone onto the table in front of him.

“Let’s just go,” you said, already strutting towards the elevator.

Haknyeon’s eyes dropped to your phone screen, Eric’s chat open for him to see with the newest message being mere minutes old.

i’m sorry, y/n.

He pressed his lips together. Of course, he’d known it would be like this, hoped for it too, but he still felt sorry for you. You didn’t deserve this, but neither did you deserve to stay in a relationship that was only held up out of a sense of duty. You deserved to be loved. 

Haknyeon scrambled to his feet, emptying his glass and pocketing your phone before hurrying after you. The elevator arrived with a ping the second he caught up, and he followed you into the small, mirrored space. You didn’t look up, nor did you press any buttons, so Haknyeon did it in your stead, going up to his penthouse suite.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered when the doors closed, handing you back your phone. You just let out a scoff. “Don’t bother. You must be so happy about this, you love winning.”

“Yeah,” he stepped a little closer, his hands ghosting over your upper arm, “but I love you more. I love you.” He meant it, but he knew you didn’t believe him. Or maybe you just needed it to be untrue, because it made things easier for you. He couldn’t blame you.

“Sure,” your voice was lifeless as you wrapped your arms around his neck, still not meeting his gaze as you walked him back until he bumped into the handrail on the wall of the elevator, “I love you too.”

“No, you don’t,” his hands found your lower back and his nose lightly nuzzled your neck.

“No,” you agreed before you tilted your head and brushed your lips against his, “but just for tonight I can pretend.”

He kissed you back, only pulling away when the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. You pulled him out into the small hallway to the door of his suite waiting for him to unlock it, but he hesitated.

“Are you sure?”

You raised an eyebrow, “This was your bet.”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t matter if you don’t want this.”

“Where are these qualms coming from suddenly, Hak?” You leaned into him, your lips ghosting over his, “It’s too late for reservations. Did you forget that we already crossed the line once?”

As if he could ever forget about it, as if he hadn’t spent every waking moment thinking about it since it happened. “Doesn’t mean we have to cross it again.”

You reached into his jacket, fishing out the key card from the inner pocket. “But I want to.”

“Fine,” he pulled you into a kiss before he let go, giving you the room to unlock the door, “but don’t complain later.”

“What brings you here?” Haknyeon asked, propping up his chin on the palm of his hand, “Weren’t you supposed to spend the night elsewhere?”

“Shut up, Haknyeon,” you scoffed, still trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Don’t be like that, sunshine,” he said with a smile, pushing his drink in your direction. “Tell me what happened, I’ll lend you an ear.” 

“As if I still need to tell you. I’m sure Eric told you he was going to dump me, and you watched me run into this disaster of a night, probably laughing behind my back because I thought maybe I could save this relationship if I—”

“He dumped you?” 

“Don’t even pretend to care.”

“But I do,” he whispered into his glass, too quiet for you to hear over the noise of the bar, “I do care.”

“Just do what you do best: distract me,” you added with another sip from your drink.

A grin played on Haknyeon’s lips. If that was what you wanted, he could do that. “I know just the place,” he said, getting up from his stool and holding out his hand for you to take. 

“Lead the way,” you replied, taking the offer and letting him guide you out of the hotel bar and into the city’s nightlife. 

As the night went on, a few drinks too many on either side, you started to loosen up, forgetting about your pain and heartbreak. Haknyeon loved seeing you like that, smiling and dancing without inhibition. He hadn’t seen you laugh so wild and free in a long time, not since things with Eric had started to go downhill, and even though he hated that you’d been hurt, he loved to see this side of you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, once you were in the back of his car, Haknyeon’s driver taking you back, “For the ride. And for the distraction.” You turned your head to look at him, red lips and flushed cheeks, and Haknyeon couldn’t help gazing at you, the alcohol clouding his brain too much to be subtle in his admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, knowing it didn’t match the flow of the conversation.

You let out a chuckle. “What are you saying?” 

“It’s true.”

“Eric’s your friend,” you reasoned, but Haknyeon didn’t miss the way your eyes dropped to his lips.

“Aren’t you my friend too?” he tilted his head, looking at you through hooded eyes.

“Right,” you inched closer, until Haknyeon felt your breath fanning over his lips, “you have a point there.”

“I do,” he whispered, before he closed the gap and kissed you.

Haknyeon was aware that morally this wasn’t the soundest choice he’d ever made. You’d only just gotten dumped by your boyfriend, who also happened to be his friend. He shouldn’t have kissed you, nor should he pull you into his lap. But how could he resist, when you returned the kiss so sweetly? How could he push you away, when your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer? There was no way he would pass up this chance just to meet some sort of moral standard and, frankly, while this wasn't the best he’d still made way more questionable choices before. He’d deal with the repercussions later. Tomorrow, maybe.

Except, tomorrow didn’t exactly start the way he’d imagined. Because instead of finding your sleeping figure next to him, the other half of his bed was empty, the messy sheets the only trace you’d left behind before rushing out. It seemed, while he didn’t regret the choices made and actions taken, you must have felt a little different about it. Of course you did. After all, you were still in love with Eric. Still, it felt lonely to wake up alone.

Haknyeon somewhat expected to wake up by himself again. It wasn’t that he didn’t hope for you to stay, it was just that he’d already prepared himself for disappointment the moment you’d kissed him in the elevator. But when he opened his eyes, the morning sun on his face tickling him awake, he found you were still there, sound asleep and wrapped up in his arms. You looked peaceful with your face tucked into his chest, your breathing calm and steady. He gently brushed a strand of hair out of your forehead, watching fondly as your nose scrunched up a bit at the ticklish feeling, before you snuggled closer. How someone could not be in love with you was a miracle to him, but he should probably be grateful that it was possible. Because now that he knew what it felt like to have you, not just for a night but in the morning too, there was no way he was going to hand you back to Eric again. He’d win you over, so that the next time you’d tell him you loved him, you would actually mean it.

Masterlist

[jo-harrington]

Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get to meet Eddie's friends.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.01

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Fluffy, silly, mutual pining, slowish burnish. Allusions to more of Eddie's trauma/shitty people being shitty that will probably come up later. Some silly, goofy "boys will be boys" moments with Corroded Coffin.

Note: I keep introducing new characters and I'm sorry. (I mean it's only 2 at this point...3? I't doesn't matter. It's my party and I will have a million side characters if I want to.) But Welcome to SOP 1.02, the second of what will be many nights out with Eddie and Store Manager.

I know I'm posting this one after Corrective Action, but it technically comes before it. I'm working on writing chronologically...it is just taking a hot minute. I'm like a Time Lord, my brain doesn't work that way. One day we will catch up to Closing Time and then it doesn't have to be mutual pining and cute friendship/early relationship stuff, it can be love and fluff and probably some more angstier angst and filthy smut.

Besides I just love their goofy little date nights. And I needed to write something fluffy and lighthearted since this weekend seems to be angsty chapter fest elsewhere in the fic world. (iykyk. I love it, I just need some silliness.)

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

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“What time are you off tonight?”

“Uhhh,” you looked up at Eddie as he jogged into the store, partially out of breath. You were halfway through a piercing, but couldn’t possibly be annoyed at his appearance; he was quickly becoming one of your favorite people, after all.

Besides, it was another long, busy day; you and your ASM had both been doing back-to-back piercings for at least two hours, and there was a practically endless line at the cash wrap. With the (unexpected) success of the store, you were allowed to hire some new associates, one of whom was currently training on the register.

You welcomed the distraction that Eddie brought.

“The regular time? Why?" you asked, then paused for a second. "And sorry, but did you run up here?”

“Escalator is out of order,” he shrugged, still panting. Then under his breath “fuck, I shouldn’t skip out on gym so much.”

“The smoking is probably not doing you any favors either,” you tutted in a stage whisper and he rolled his eyes. "Give me like...a few minutes to finish up and then we can chat? And I swear to god, just wait in here please and not near the door; my conversion really sucks today."

He held up his hands innocently before shuffling off to the side to browse. You watched him for another second--admired how handsome goofy he looked--and then you turned back to the preteen in your chair. 

“Ok…you ready? Just one more time. One…two…” The girl winced a little bit as the needle punctured her ear. “I know it hurt but it wasn't too bad right? And you'll look so cool!” 

The soft “pretty” that came from her when you presented the mirror to show her the finished product a few minutes later was enough to make you smile brightly. After a quick "thank you" she skipped to the checkout line to proudly show her new earrings to her father--a man who clearly watched too much Magnum PI if the mustache and Hawaiian shirt were any indicator.

Once the station was cleaned up and you checked in with the rest of your team, you turned your attention to your visitor. You grabbed some random accessory off of one of the fixtures as you approached him.

"Excuse me sir, I think I found exactly what you need to complete your look today," you said in the entirely too bubbly way you usually spoke to customers. The one that you knew, after Eddie confessed during lunch the other day, made his skin crawl a little.

"It's a customer service voice."

"It's creepy."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to you. From behind your back, you revealed a dressup headband that had fluffy red hearts wobbling on springs on either side of the head. You stood on your toes and jammed it onto his head, unable to contain your laughter as he leaned back to catch a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, but I think this really works."

He turned back to you and fluffed his hair a little. Then he held his hands below his chin while fluttering his eyelashes prettily.

“So what’s up?” You asked once he took the headband off. “I thought you were off on Fridays.”

“I am,” he nodded. “For Hellfire. But...it's a special circumstance. There's an early screening of this new movie--Day of the Dead? Did you ever see Night of the Living Dead? Of course you have, it's a classic."

"Sure."

"This ones, like, the last one of the trilogy." He had admitted to you last week that Return of the Jedi was his (secret) favorite of the Star Wars trilogy and that the last movies in trilogies were, in his opinions, the best. "Anyway it's gotta be good."

"It does sound cool." You agreed.

"Well I'm glad you think so, because I asked Jeff to get an extra ticket..." he paused and you could see the nerves settle in. "I figured...you might want to join us? If you're free after work?” 

He rambled on about his friends and how “Gareth got his license, finally, which is why we're really going out” and “Dave always screams at jump scares but it's hilarious.” Trying to convince you that they were good and cool, but you could guess what he was trying to say underneath it all.

They’re cool guys and I’m a cool guy. We're going to see a cool movie, so please don’t say no. 

After two Sunday afternoons and a handful of lunches spent together, it was still baffling to see how bashful he could become. How he still tripped up on his words and gave you every single opportunity to turn him down. To turn him away.

He told you some people were shitty to him for repeating senior year. And he worried about you finding out about some reputation he had. But even if you hadn't witnessed it yourself yet, it wasn't hard to put two and two together that, overall, people weren't very nice to him.

You knew you had been lucky; the only people to really bully you were related to you. But you still couldn't understand how people could be so cruel, especially to the absolute sweetheart in front of you who was currently rocking on his toes, and fidgeting with his rings, and avoiding your eyes as he just kept talking.

Eddie was funny, witty, cute, thoughtful, and probably hopped up on too much sugar all the time.

"...and I know it probably doesn't sound fun to go to the movies with a bunch of high school guys but--"

"No it sounds like a great time," you agreed.

"Really?" He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that you were secretly starting to enjoy. "It's not stupid?"

"No," you shook your head. "And I want to meet your friends. You kind of talk about them a lot. So it'd be nice to put faces to names."

"They might bully you for listening to Duran Duran," he warned.

Was he trying to get you to turn him down?

"Then don't tell them about that!"

"I might need to be bribed," he hummed cheekily, clearly unable to keep a smile off of his face.

"Gosh, you ask me to go to the movies with you, and now you're blackmailing me," you sighed. "Fine...I'll get you any sour candy you want. But you can't put it in the popcorn!"

He held out his hand to shake on it and you rolled your eyes as you slapped your hand into his.

He grinned and whooped in excitement, then ran out of the store. Before you could even blink, he was back and, in a move that made your heart beat a little harder in your chest, he leaned down and gave the back of your hand a very light kiss.

What?

"I'll leave you to your sparkly kingdom, your Highness," he announced with an over exaggerated, grandiose voice as he returned to his full height. "See you at 7." He then winked and ran back out.

WHAT?!

"My conversion Eddie!" You called after him once you got back to your senses.

The loud crack of his laughter echoing though the mall was just enough to make you forgive him.

---

“Ok so is this a date?” your ASM asked softly as she counted your register down before you left. "The last time it wasn't a date, but is it a date now? Movies? Sharing popcorn?"

"His friends are gonna be there. It's just...hanging out."

"Oooh, meeting some of his friends. Are you gonna sit next to him? Dark movie theater, perfect for smooching."

"Shut up. No it isn't perfect for smooching.”

"But you’re gonna sit next to him. You're avoiding eye contact, you’re nervous," she sing-songed and you groaned. "This is a date!"

Mindy was a former stay-at-home mom who got bored of being at home now that the kids were all in school. It should have been weird, managing someone almost a decade older than you, and you both voiced your concern during the interview that one would treat the other like some dumb kid. You because you were younger and didn't have as much life experience, and Mindy because she didn't have much retail experience and would be working with a bunch of teenagers. But you both agreed not to let that influence your treatment of one another.

There was mutual respect and trust.

There was also relentless teasing. On Mindy's part, at least.

"Ok, listen, I told you that he's great but he said this thing the first time we hung out."

"What thing? Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this thing?" she put her dollar-clenching hands on her hips and stared at you in a way that only a mother could.

You explained how he mentioned, specifically, that your first night out wasn't a date. How disappointed you were. How embarrassed you were that you would even entertain that idea and were now doing everything in your power not to think of him as cute and stomp all the hopes and dreams of your own mall romance into the dirt.

All of your insecurities about your non-existent love life laid out for her--and everyone else in the busy store--to hear.

And Mindy just snorted in your face.

"I don't think I'm that old, but you kids really need to stop overthinking things," she laughed and slammed the cash drawer shut. "Alright you're all set. Go have fun on your not-date."

"I really hate you," you deadpanned and turned to leave.

You were about halfway through the trek across the mall to the multiplex when you did exactly what Mindy told you to stop doing: overthink.

Eddie was worried you might not like his friends...what if his friends didn't like you?

They were younger, still in high school. (You were blatantly ignoring that you could say the same thing about Eddie.) And you had a younger brother who was still in high school. When you were still at home his friends thought you were stupid and old and gross, as kids do.

You drove your grandpa's old car--handed down when his doctor told him he couldn't drive anymore--you didn't listen to whatever new bands they were obsessing over, you didn't know all the cool young slang.

You'd think, working with a bunch of teenagers, that you would pick something up, but for as long as you had been given keys at your old store, you tried to keep a little bit of distance with the younger associates. It helped get them to see you in an authoritative light, to trust your leadership.

And it absolutely stunted your social ability.

And your brother and his friends could smell it like sharks smelling blood in the water.

It had never bothered you--they were little twerps anyway who you'd threatened to beat up when they got too annoying anyway--until now.

What is it that Eddie's friends would find cool?

You knew about the band, and obviously you both had been bickering over discussing music. He also told you about his Hellfire Club, which conveniently consisted of the same group. And while you couldn't really wrap your head around the mechanics of the game from the description--he had offered to lend you some of his books to help you understand--you did think some of the creatures and characters he described were intriguing.

And hell, you might not know a whole lot about fantasy, but you sure as hell knew about escapism. Maybe they all were looking for a way out of their realities too.

But that was probably too heavy a topic to talk about with a bunch of teen boys at the movies.

"There she is, late," Eddie's voice broke through your thoughts as you approached the mall entrance to the theater. You looked up to find the small group of boys leaning against the wall beside the box office.

You could do this.

Or pretend to, at least.

Besides, it was just Eddie. You could be cool for him.

"You said 7?" you argued. "I clocked out at 6:45!"

"Well we're gonna miss the previews," one of the boys grumbled good-naturedly, before breaking into a small smile. "Hey, I'm Gareth."

"The drum prodigy!" You exclaimed and his smile got a little bashful.

"Shut up," he muttered. "You haven't even heard us play yet!"

You quickly introduced yourself and Eddie clapped his hands on each of his friends' shoulders as he introduced them and gave you a little fact about each of them in a way only Eddie could.

"We have Gareth, obviously, the man of the hour with a real, legitimate drivers license," Eddie sniffled and wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Can't believe he's all grown up. But let the record show that I taught him how to parallel park."

"Dave, who, I have recently learned, can fully recite Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven from memory. Iambic pentameter and all that shit, right? Guess you only look dumb, huh, Davey."

"And Jeff, Jeffrey, Jefferson, my right hand man. Not just the peanut butter to my jelly, but both slices of bread too. Where in the world would I ever be without him? Actually, maybe I would have graduated by now."

They all smiled and greeted you; it was clear that they adored Eddie and enjoyed the attention of their fearless leader, even while swatting at him as he embarrassed them.

All except Jeff, who had given you a tight, cordial smile--a strained flash of braces--and then urged everyone to follow him in.

The three younger boys bickered about snacks while you all waited in line, Gareth and Dave turning to ask you your preferences every now and again.

Whenever they couldn't decide on something--jalapeños on the nachos or no, extra butter or extra salt on the popcorn, wait should we get the hot dog combo--Eddie would swoop in with a sharp "shut up" and play mediator, then turn back to you with the biggest, fondest grin and an eye roll.

It was cute.

He was cute.

It was heartwarming to see him with his friends. You hadn't been hanging out with him for very long at all, but it was nice that he liked you enough to share this, share his friends, with you.

Once you all had your treats, including the sour candy you had promised Eddie, you made your way into the theater, only for the boys to bicker, once again, about who was sitting where. They each had their preferences and argued over the pros and cons of each. Dave like the aisle but so did Jeff, and Gareth--a self-proclaimed movie theater expert--said the center of the theater had the best viewing and sound experience. Eddie just preferred the back.

"Because if the movie is shit, you can just throw popcorn at the people further up who are making out."

"Or just watch them and--hey!"

"Not in front of a lady, dingus!"

You just hung back and enjoyed the show while apologizing to the other moviegoers for blocking their way to picking their own seats.

"Well where do you want to sit?" Eddie abruptly turned to you.

"Uh, well." You didn't think you really had a choice in this; you were just invited last-minute. This was their outing. "I'm just a guest. Whatever you guys pick is fine with me."

"Do you even like going to the movies?" Jeff laughed, but there was a slightly annoyed undertone that you wondered momentarily if you were just imagining. "Or watching scary movies?"

"I mean, yeah, who doesn't like movies," you shrugged, figuring it wasn't really the time or place to be discussing your preferences in movies either. "And horror...well, my dad always said it was cursed or something, but it's fun, they're funny."

The lights started to dim in the theater and you swore you saw Jeff roll his eyes.

"Funny?"

What was his deal?

"Yeah, when something scares you and then you jump and it makes you laugh. Especially when it's lame and cheesy. And...it's like when you ride a rollercoaster, it makes your stomach go...funny."

They all muttered in understanding, but you still felt uncertain.

"That's an interesting way of looking at it, sweetheart. I guess we all just like to get scared shitless," Eddie grinned. He clapped his hand on Gareth's shoulder. "Alright, since we're here to celebrate Gareth the Great's accomplishments, he gets to choose."

---

About a half hour in, you needed to go to the bathroom and you shimmied past the boys, doing everything in your power not to get flustered when Eddie put his hand on your hip to steady you, with a soft "careful" so you wouldn't fall over onto the next row of people.

Not that he would be able to see in the dark theater anyway.

But you felt like...somehow, he would know.

You took a deep, calming breath of relief when you got out to the lobby of the theater and joined the line for the bathroom.

The movie was good, suspenseful.

Eddie didn't lie when he said Dave screamed at jumpscares. He also conveniently forgot to mention that he liked talking during movies. People nearby kept turning their heads to shush him when he got too loud, too excited, gushing over one thing or another to someone in the group.

"Guys did you see that?"

"That was really fucked up."

"Wait what happened? I couldn't hear what they said."

It was also just not helping any of your efforts to bury your attraction for Eddie when you shared an armrest and a bucket of popcorn. Your fingers would brush his when he offered to share his candy with you. Your breath would hitch during scary moments and he would knock his knuckles with yours and give you a shit-eating grin.

“Funny my ass.”

“Shut up, you’re the worst.”

You did everything in your power to ignore the electric tingles along your skin.

“Quiet I can’t hear.”

Then there was Jeff sitting on Eddie’s other side, who would make comments like that every now and again.

It’s not like you had enough time to get a good read on Jeff; Eddie had said he was working on his confidence on-stage, maybe he also needed it off-stage? Maybe he had a hard time meeting new people? Or...or maybe he was just a stand-off-ish kind of guy, broody?

Or maybe...

Or maybe he just didn’t like you.

You really hoped that wasn't the case, but it sure seemed like it.

You knew how it felt when there was one friend in the group that just didn't like you as much as they liked the others, how they went out of their way to make you feel just a little bit unwelcome. How everyone else would just shake it off, because you'd all been hanging out for years, and it was just good natured anyway.

But this wasn't that.

This wasn't your friend group; these were Eddie's friends, and you really hadn't given them a reason to dislike you. You wanted them to like you; you wanted them to...tell Eddie he wasn't wasting his time being your friend.

The other guys seemed nice enough.

Right?

And you really wanted to try, especially with Jeff, who Eddie spoke of fondest.

Of course, he spoke of all the boys fondly…but whatever happened that caused Corroded Coffin to break up—something Eddie seemed incredibly hesitant to talk about—Jeff had been there to build it back up again. And you could tell how proud Eddie was of his friend, how grateful he was to have him.

You didn't want Eddie's closest friend to have a problem with you, his newest.

You went about your business in the bathroom, staring at your reflection for an extra long second, practicing your smile so it wouldn't seem too customer-service-y or artificial--your well-practiced mask that had always gotten you ahead at work--in case that was why Jeff had a problem. Did he think you were fake?

You just wanted to know the truth.

And you didn't have to wait long to find out, because on your way out of the bathroom, you saw Jeff waiting by the entrance of the theater. His arms were folded across his chest and he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Everything...ok?" you asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he replied, with that same strained smile he gave you earlier. "I just wanted to talk really quick."

"Oh...kay," you agreed. "Listen, if I did anything wrong, or to offend you, I'm sorry. I know I can be too much someti--"

"Why are you hanging out with Eddie?" he interjected, cutting right to the chase. You frowned and cocked your head to the side in question. "Why are you being nice to him?"

"Why shouldn't I?" you asked in return. "He's a nice guy. He asked me to come to the movies with you guys. I’m sorry if it was just supposed to be your time together—”

"Not just now," Jeff looked around nervously, as if he was afraid to make eye contact. "He came to practice the other week excited that you agreed to go out with him and that you were cool and he was nervous and he hasn't shut up about you ever since."

Your heart got stuck in your throat. Obviously he had to tell his friends about you if he invited you to go to the movies, but...he hadn't shut up about you?

"But he's been through a lot and he doesn't deserve whatever...whatever scheme you have planned by hanging out with him. S-so this is your chance to let him down now, before you really hurt him."

You were quickly brought back to reality.

Jeff was staring at you now, expectantly. All traces of nervousness gone.

"Why would I have a scheme? Why would I hurt him?" you questioned.

"Because you're not the first pretty, popular girl to hang around with him, only to make him feel like shit afterwards once they get what they want."

Oh.

Oh no.

"If you're trying to score some cheap weed or something--"

"I'm not."

"--Or like...get some sort of laugh at his expense with those girls you work with--"

"Jeff."

"Just know that it really hurt him last time," he concluded. "Like really broke him down, on top of everything else, and it took everything I had to get him back. He's my best friend; the closest thing I have to an older brother. And he's the best guy I know. I can't stand to see him get that way again because someone else was too selfish to consider his feelings."

Your head was spinning, trying to put all of the pieces together.

And it was only making you incredibly sad for your friend.

"So..." Jeff took a breath and straightened his shoulders, as if he would step in your path to block you from entering the theater if you didn't give him the answer he wanted. "Tell me the truth. What do you want with Eddie?"

What did you want?

What didn't you want?

"I want to be his friend," you began. "I don't have that many people here, Jeff. I left home for the first time ever, and I'm kind of alone and it's scary. I don't really hang out with the people I work with because I have boundaries. And Eddie has been one of the only people I've met outside of work, technically, and he's been one of the most welcoming people so far.

"I want to eat junk food with him, and listen to his corny jokes, and get to see his favorite places in Hawkins, even though he swears up and down that it's a shit hole. And hurting him is the very last thing I want to do. But pain is just a part of life, and as much as we want to, we can't just...stop him from getting hurt at every step of the way.

"It's really admirable that you came out here to try and protect him, Jeff. I'm glad he has a friend like you. And hopefully now, since we'll have an understanding, we can be friends too," you finished with a smile.

Jeff hesitated then relaxed, the need to be Eddie's protector pretty much vanished. He wrung his hands together for a moment before sighing.

"Yeah," he agreed slowly. "I think we can be friends… Even though you're old." He grinned mischievously.

Low blow.

"Ouch! Thanks, I'm not that much older than you guys.”

"I mean, you're old enough to buy alcohol, right?" he asked expectantly.

"I'm not buying beers for you guys," you deadpanned.

"That makes you old."

"...still not buying you beer."

"Well, shit, you're not only old, you're lame too," Jeff laughed. "So...let's go back in? Before Eddie sends a search party."

"Hey, does he tell you guys not to fall into the toilet when you go to the bathroom too?"

---

Once you got back to your seats, Eddie hemmed and hawed about how the two of you missed the "best part," which he theatrically reenacted for you with Gareth and Dave after the show was over and you headed back into the mall.

He also couldn't shut up about it as he walked you back to your car in the employee lot. The other guys left, Gareth proudly showing off his new license by driving the other guys home in his mom's station wagon.

"The blood, the flesh," Eddie gushed, creepily running his fingers over your neck and shoulders, giving you the chills as you swatted at him. "It was so gross!!!"

"I'm sorry I missed it. Guess we're just gonna have to go see it again."

"We should do a group zombie costume for Halloween; it would be so cool. We could go trick or treating; the people around here don't really care how old you are. Scare all of the kids with some blood and guts. What do you think?"

"Sounds fun, I think you guys would look great!" You agreed.

"No, I meant you too," he insisted and then immediately backtracked. "Shit...unless you don't want to. Or you had another costume planned. I mean Halloween is months away but..." He continues rambling and you shake your head and stop him.

"Hey, I just figured it was something you'd want to do with the guys," you explained. "Not...me. Who am I? Not part of the band, not in Hellfire Club."

"Why wouldn't I want you there," he smiled, a little bashfully. Not the full, world-moving smile that changed the topography of his face, but a quiet one, one that made him look deceptively innocent. One that you hoped deep down, a little, was just for you. "With me--with us?!"

You couldn't get your hopes up.

You really couldn't.

“I-I mean, the guys all really liked you,” he continued. “I’m sure they’d want you there too.”

"I really liked them all too," you began. "They were cool...so if the guys are ok with it...and we don't do some stupid costume contest at work--they do things like that you know? Corporate sends out a stupid contest for a pizza party and...

"A-anyway, yeah I'd like to be part of your zombie group costume."

"Really?" he asked, similarly to earlier when he asked you to the movies.

"I mean...I might need to be bribed."

Eddie fell to his knees theatrically as you reached your car and you giggled, earning weird stares as people walked by on their way to their cars.

"Oh Queen of Glitter Kingdom," he began, one hand grabbing yours and the other over his heart. "I, your faithful servant, do promise to provide you with whatever sour candy you desire, as much as you please, from the collective treat buckets of the Hellfire Club if you deign to grace us with your presence during Trick or Treating this All Hallows Eve.

"Too much?" he asked after a short pause.

"Maybe," you tilted your head back and forth in consideration. Maybe too much, but that was part of what made him...him. "But I accept your most tempting offer."

He kissed your hand again before jumping to his feet with an excited yelp.

And once again, that thought returned:

How could anyone purposefully hurt a sweet nerd like Eddie?

"See you Sunday sweetheart?" he asked, wet eyes glistening happily.

"Yeah," you agreed. "See you Sunday."

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.03

Sales Associates (AKA the tag list): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytch @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle @blue-eyed-lion @aysheashea @blue-mossbird @abibliophobiaa

If you weren't given hours this week (if I forgot to tag you), I'm really sorry, we're just tight on payroll. I'll make sure you get a shift next time. ;)

(GUYS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS BIT!)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future installations of the Store Manager Verse.

[andieanderson-writes]

LIMBO - An alternate ending for Nanami Kento.

Posting this here from my wattpad since today is THE day (iykyk). Read on if you want to see the beloved Nanami Kento safe :)

Wordcount: a little over 2k. Nanami�� female reader, but the reader is an OC in this fic.(p.s. if you enjoyed this, comment what y'all think of the writing!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The yellow glow from the overhead lights still flickered minutes after the impact– the impact of the blow dealt to Haruta by none other than grade 1 sorcerer, Nanami Kento. He crouched in front of Akari Nitta and Nobara, making sure they were alright, as he spoke in low tones. The atmosphere felt ominous and held the warning of impending danger. Everything was going wrong one after the other, and cursed spirits were running havoc through the stations and roads of Shibuya.

“...It looks like you all really haven’t heard about Gojo-san yet,” Nanami explained, going over the catastrophic ordeal of the sealing of Satoru Gojo and how even though he’d been sealed in the prison realm, he was holding up pretty well.

“The fact that he’s holding out after being sealed makes it sound real,” Nobara mused out loud.

It was getting late, and Nanami knew he was needed elsewhere. There were many more cursed spirits and villainous creatures running rampant in the city… Haruta was the least of his growing concerns that night. “You two, please wait here for rescue,” Nanami instructed, getting to his feet. “I’ll join Zen’in-san, and we’ll head down to B5F.”

Nobara perked up. “I’ll go too–”

“No, you won’t,” came Nanami’s stern reply. He was firm on his beliefs that no matter how powerful of a sorcerer she might be, Nobara was still a child and merely a first year student at Jujutsu High. Besides, he was the minimum level required to face the dangers of the fights ahead.

Even if it meant death.

Nobara pouted, her face downcast, but Nanami didn’t have time for that. According to him, the stakes were too high to care for sentiments and feelings and–

The familiar clacking of heels against the polished floor of the station echoed in their direction. Nanami felt his body tense at the sound, though he was as stoic as ever to the naked eye when he turned around to face the woman.

“Nanami,” came her breathless voice. Mika Ito was one of the other grade 1 sorcerers, and at the sight of her, Nanami’s heart stuttered in concern. She was disheveled, hair sticking out in odd places from the low tidy bun she usually had it in during emergency battles.

Nanami took a step towards her, then paused.

No, he thought, This isn’t her.

He knew her like the back of his hand. In fact, she was the only person he’d allowed himself to know so much ever since he lost someone as dear to him as Haibara.

You see, Mika, in particular, had a unique cursed technique, which allowed her to make clones of herself. The clones that she created could also become another person if she willed it– when the clone touched the person she wanted to replicate– having the same abilities as that individual.

“Where is she?” Nanami asked her clone, a lump clinging to his throat. The clone smiled, uncannily just like the same smile he’d become fond of over the past year; though he’d never admit it out loud. He didn’t want to spoil whatever they had built together, so both him and her kept their longing glances and accidental touches a secret from the rest of the world and each other.

“She’s near the scramble crossing in Shibuya,” the clone responded. “Injured but alive.” Then, lifting its shirt, the clone showed a deep red gash in its side, dried and damp, sticky blood encrusting around the oozing wound. “This is not my wound but hers. She sent me here to get you.”

Nanami had to physically restrain himself from sprinting to her. If Mika was in no real danger, he had enough faith in her strength to know that she could handle this on her own. After all, he was supposed to aid Zen’in-san where things were undoubtedly more serious.

But she had called for him, and that made so much difference.

“She also sent me here to replicate you, if you will allow it,” the clone added on seeing the indecisiveness in his eyes.

Never mind where he was supposed to be, Nanami would go to her regardless. He knew that much. He just had to stop himself in his irrational hastiness to be by her side, to consider the repercussions of his actions. But since she’d offered to clone him so he wouldn’t really be absent from those who needed him at platform B5F…

“Alright.” He sighed, adjusting his signature glasses. Nanami nodded in departure to Nobara and Nitta and followed the clone.

When they were some distance away, the clone held his forearm and closed its eyes. Part of him wished that it had been the actual person he had come to care for instead of just her clone. He realised he should probably do something about these unrequited feelings once it was just him and her– nevermind the raging fight, he didn’t even know who would make it out alive and who wouldn’t.

However, those wishes disintegrated immediately when the flash of light dimmed, and a copy of him stared back instead of her.

Nanami and the clone went their separate ways, him more in a hurry to get to her at Shibuya Scramble Crossing than the clone was to follow his instructions, like it knew the peril that lay in wait ahead.

****

There was a mounting trepidation and tension in Mika's shoulders as she slumped against a wall. Her thoughts spiraled out of control, forcing her to chant her mantra when her mind went hazy on her. Block. Aim. Kill. Protect.

Where the heck is Nanami? She wondered, squeezing her eyes tightly as she pressed a cloth to the injury in her side. He was the closest to her location and, embarrassingly enough, the only person that came to her mind after being injured and panic stricken.

A gurgling cursed spirit tried to spring up on her in surprise just as she stabbed it with a special cursed tool— her flaming dagger— its blood oozing all over her leather jacket. Thankfully, it was a smaller one than the others she’d been fending off all evening. When Mika opened her eyes, blurry from being shut too tightly, Nanami had materialised in front of her, reaching for her arms and pulling her into him to support her weight against his chest.

"Hello, you." He said in a soft voice, his hand gently against the back of her head.

Her heart went warm despite the biting cold that Halloween usually brought. A peaceful smile found its way to her face as she settled in his arms and allowed herself a rare moment of steady and calm, breathing slow and deep. Nanami often had that effect on her; He was logical and sensible, but that never overrode his caring and protective side. Despite the stress being a first grade jujitsu sorcerer brought on the two of them, he had been the one to tether her frantic tendencies. She wondered what she did for him, hoping it was equal to how much he always did for her.

“Let me help you,” Nanami murmured into her hair, resting his chin on her head.

“That’s why I called you, Kento.” Mika felt his traitorous heart race beneath her cheek and chuckled. The use of his first name felt right only when it was just under the privacy of the two of them… at least, until they sorted out whatever their feelings were for each other.

A grotesque scream tore through the neighborhood, and chattering crowds turned into cries of horror, interrupting their little moment. Nanami immediately sprung into action, kicking a one-eyed cursed spirit in the face as he tucked her behind him out of harm's way and the brunt of danger.

She laughed, moving to stand beside him– albeit a little unsteady, “I said help me, not baby me.” Mika's limbs were lithe and quick. In the blink of an eye, she was bringing down her fiery dagger on yet another creepy looking cursed spirit.

Frowning, Nanami opened his mouth to protest, but before anyone could move another muscle, a black dome was thrown on top of them, trapping them beneath its concave surface like a coffin would the dead. He'd heard that Mei Mei had been trapped in a similar cursed coffin. "Damnit," he swore through grit teeth. His fist flared in a seething blue glow that matched the scowl on his face as he punched against the walls of the dome.

Nothing.

Another punch.

Not even a dinge.

The veins on his arm strained as Nanami raised his purple-bruised fist a third time when Mika pulled him back by the arm. “Nanami! Stop!” she commanded in panic and worry, “You’ll hurt yourself! The only way we can break free is if someone cuts through from the outside. I think it's a curse called ‘Limbo’... I rescued someone who was trapped in the same thing just an hour ago, and they could not get out till I showed up.”

Nanami paused. She could see in his eyes the way his mind worked overtime as it sorted through the possible solutions– if there were any at all. His jaw tightened when he came up with nothing, fist clenching about his tie. “Then we–”

Suddenly, he staggered forward with a loud groan gripping the side of his body. Mika's eyes widened as she dropped to her knees beside him. “Shit, what the– Kento, look at me. What just happened? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. My body–” Nanami bent down, his chest heaving with hoarse coughs. He curled into himself as she held him. Nanami placed a palm to his throbbing eye, feeling something like the sharp point of a hot poker maiming it free of its socket. His face contorted in raw pain, unable to form a coherent explanation as to what was happening besides the feeling of one side of his body lit ablaze. As his eyes met hers then, a spark of realisation lit up both their minds at the same time. “The clone.”

Whatever damage was inflicted through the injuries on the clone may not be seen on the real person, but the initial agony and pain that came from it was felt just as if they were feeling it in person. It was one of the disadvantages of Mika's cursed technique.

That only meant one thing: somewhere, in some part of Shibuya, Nanami’s clone was fighting for the lives of the innocent and now, probably his life too. Neither he nor she knew what would become of this clone, death or victory, and Nanami almost found the guilt of his absence as unbearable as the feeling of the simmering coals coursing through his side.

But as Mika held him, doing whatever she could to ease his pain and whispering encouraging sweet nothings to him, like a jolt of lightning in the pitch blackness of the night, Nanami realised that he loved her. No matter how much he tried to brush it off, deep inside, he knew it had been a long time coming. The realisation made his breaths heavier as if they were not labored enough.

Meanwhile, as selfish as it sounded, Mika was glad that he was stuck there in Limbo or whatever this curse was. Yes, they might be there for a while, and yes, he was in pain– but he was alive with her. She would rather him be still breathing in captivity than die anywhere else apart. She whispered it like a prayer of gratitude over and over in her mind. Then she told him. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you're with me, alive."

Nanami sighed, and for once in his life, he let himself lean on someone else as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Mika felt his warm breath on her skin, the caress of his thumb on her knuckles that grasped his hand.

"I'm not proud of myself for unintentionally avoiding danger. I mean, you especially know how death is brushed off as an inevitable side effect of being a Jujutsu sorcerer, right?" Nanami paused as she nodded, bracing himself for the words about to spill from his lips, his voice low and careful. "But if I could cheat death— if I were to stay alive for anyone. Just know that I would shamelessly live for you."

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

Hi All,

I won’t name the website but at this point we’re all in this shitshow together. 😅

I was looking through some older “threads” IYKYK…… and I saw a lot of people did similar observations as we do now, but on Chris’ relationships with Minka and Jenny. I’m reading through what took place and it’s like rinse and repeat.

Unfortunately now we have……

Racism

Age gap

Messy Relationship

Marriage

Legit evidence that leads on to assume this is PR

Like the 2023 Celebrity Wedding list…..the biggest star on that list should have been Chris, yet he wasn’t added and the same media outlet had to create a separate article titled “Hollywood Bachelor’s We’re Sad to See Off The Market” or some crap, just to add the fact that Chris was “married”, yet all the other men listed were on the official marriage list…..EXCEPT him. Stuff like that made me go, now wait. 🤔

But reading through things that happened back 2012 and 2017……Chris has always been in mess and apparently I wasn’t fully aware of that.

Like I don’t assume him and Jenny weren’t real, but some of the same ones currently screaming how him and the “wife” are legit, treated Jenny like shit (screenshots all over google and elsewhere) Jenny trolled, tweeted awful things and I guess it’s just crazy to see the dynamic shift between people while some stuff seems the same, is all.

But the difference between Jenny/Minka vs this crap is we all could SEE Chris clearly loved or liked them very much to the point majority never assumed it was only Pr. Real relationship being used for PR at times, sure, but never just straight up PR.

Yet this current BS, screams ONLY PR!

I don’t know if Chris thought this girl was cool in the beginning but by the time this shitshow debuted it was obvious dynamics changed once they were public because he acted like he couldn’t stand her, so people screamed PR, plus the trolling and her racist friends, but to add a marriage to this is where people were like 😳 like you didn’t even propose to Jenny yet you chose this chick?!

I don’t want to sound overly invested in this man’s life, but it’s crazy to read and see various types of similarities which makes me go…..okay so Chris likes drama, has always had issues in relationships public wise which is why some believe this is legit, but what exactly is this situation because even if it’s legit, why all the orchestrated stuff plus as I mentioned before he wasn’t added to the official wedding list, various things that led to logical questions still leave us stomped. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just interesting is all.

you bring up a lot of great points that i think are worth consideration. a lot of things i've seen discussed by many fans as well. i won't pretend that people don't change, because they do. and we also change with each relationship. but making note of the stark differences in overall relationship patterns is valid.

it's also a good point to bring up that ce has always been messy. i think a lot of people forget this. the only thing i will challenge is that we don't know if he did or did not propose to jenny. we can just assume that they were never engaged.

[rainyfestivalsweets]

Slim Pickins

9/1/24

Ever seen those reels or tik toks that tell you to run to the dollar tree?

Ya'll. Is dollar tree sponsoring just an epic shitton of those videos?

Because I was just there and it was terrible. It was the last of the 3 stores in my vicinity that I hadn't visited yet.

So you know I have some some hauls there before, on the hunt for some healthy shit. Pickles, banana peppers, a hidden gem here and there (True North 4 packs, iykyk).

It is barely worth mentioning today. I did pick up some sf hard 🍬 candies & some little bags of Russell Stover sf chocolates (portion control). The only other notable item was a couple cans of G Fuel. And consumer alert- watch the caffeine content in those. Idk if they all are, but some are 300 MG caffeine.

What else did I get? A 6 pack of pretzels. Again, small bags = portion control. Especially for me with carbs. My activity level is pretty high tho so I am trying to give myself on watching the carbs but.... I am starting to think I have a gluten intolerance from some recent lab work.

I got some drink mixes too, but I am pretty sure they are cheaper at walmart. (Confirmed- $1.08 vs 1.25)

Sf Cherry jello 🍒 4 pack

Some coffee. Jim Beam Bourbon Vanilla small bag.

Green tea.

But I swear I looked for some things that people keep saying to run to the dollar tree for ...and didn't find shit. No fun lotions. No quantity of health food.

You also have to watch out because at $1.25 some items are cheaper at walmart, or in packages too small to be a deal. See the drink packs above and the tuna and salmon below.

I did see a pack of freeze dried strawberries and 1 other freezer dried fruit. But the price point on that should be ... a 6 pack like the pretzels or at least a 3 pack. It was a 1 serving bag.

This time, I knew to pass on the tuna & salmon, spices, and certain other staples. They did have nuts but I passed on those because I have some already and too many nuts can make a deficit become a surplus really fucking fast. And I have been plateaued for a bit now.

The plus side is that the store was well kept and maintained, and it was busy so you know product turn over was high.

I remarked on the store being busy and the cashier said, "Yeah, we are always busy the first of the month." That broke my heart a little because the food picks were pretty damn sparse and like I stated earlier- cheaper elsewhere. If people are on food benefits, those little cents add up and it might mean they don't have transportation to Walmart or a grocery store.

I picked up a couple cans of spaghetti sauce, turkey gravy, & white cheese sauce. I thought about getting some pepper stir fry- which I think is a good price still 🤔 but I think my freezers are full right now.

Alot of their other freezer stuff was .... just pre packaged garbage. I think the pepper stir fry was the only vegetable in sight.

Sometimes saving money means not buying stuff at dollar tree even though all those influencers are highlighting their products. If it isn't a good deal and won't save you time or actual money, it's ok to pass. It's OK to walk to the dollar tree. And be skeptical. Price check.

Also beware of items that have higher prices. I think the reason I used to like them is because I didn't have to think about the price so much just see and grab. But that is when everything was a $1, before the 25% price hike. 🤔 but now they have $3 items and $5 items. Be skeptical!

An example of a time/energy/diet saver is when you are in desperate need of lunch and you are in a sea of fast food places. You see a dollar tree and boom, you could be saved: A jar of pickles, a pack of tuna = $2.50. Spring for a beverage for 3.75 total... that is still beating out most fast food places for a meal... or some of them even a plain ass little burger. Idk about ya'll but without a veggie just a burger doesn't really satisfy me right now.

An "I'm craving something sweet" could be those freeze-dried fruit packs or sf jello, a beef jerky & a beverage. It's totally worth it if it stops you from going into a different store and being inundated by all the various high calorie prepacked garbage.

[mirror-to-the-past]

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

The ask game

🦷-> Writing original characters has always been fun for me, either in original works or fanfiction. Typically in fanfiction I delegate original characters to only existing as background roles or vessels to further the plot, and they are not central characters in of themselves. But in original works, although laborious, I love fitting these little guys born from my mind into a larger world. Feel a sense of ownership and pride over them. I've never actually written a reader insert, it's not an appeal to me.

🔪 -> Unsure. I've researched so many things as a result of writing that they all blend together. They're mostly things for the smallest of details that I've later forgotten about, with hours going into each detail. It's pretty ridiculous and is why writing ends up taking me such a prolonged time to have a finished product. If I was published (maybe someday), I'd be a publisher's worst nightmare, probably, when it comes to making deadlines. I know that for the OMORI fandom (IYKYK), I've reseached extensively what damage to which cervival vertebrae do what, as well as the plausibility of paralysis versus death for blunt trauma to the C1-C3 range, so that probably made me look effectively deranged.

❄️-> Having to do with the Kingdom Hearts game series, a dream project I'd like to see eventually realized would be a rewrite of the game "Birth By Sleep." I have a lot of nitpicks with that game. I'd probably like to be the one to write it- not saying a good job *couldn't* be done by anyone else, but rather, as a rule, I'm a very particular person when it comes to reading and writing things and know just how I want it. It's why I started writing fanfic in the first place- I wanted to read things that I couldn't quite find elsewhere. Also Edit: A longtime potentially silly plot bunny thing I've wanted to do for several years was write a whole plot for a Pokémon game that's got a darker tone, stars a detective protag a la the Detective Pikachu spin-offs trying to bust an underground Pokémon Evil Team™ trafficking ring of people trying to sell them for parts/food in a society that's outlawed that, with legendaries that represent the themes of the Hunt/Harvest and Bounty. It's a classic "take wholesome thing and make it grimdark," but that's what playing Pokémon since early life and growing up through all the Pokémon creepypasta stuff does to you, lmao.

Thank you for sending the ask, dkniade!

[lightyaoigami]

for the love your fandom ask game, 1, 2, 3, 8, 16, 24? and if i may ask, why is your ask box labelled "get in the fucking robot"

get in the fucking robot is a reference to neon genesis evangelion which is my other favorite anime besides dn.

1) list 3 positive things about your current fandom(s) - still active after 20 years - birthed some of the best fan created content i have ever seen in any fandom - spirited debates and fandom wank that is objectively so stupid and problematic and horrible but funny for me to watch because i'm always right

2) a headcanon you weren’t sure about at first but have come to like! flat butt light. fine. he can have a flat butt. i still think he's a gym bunny because of reasons that i have detailed elsewhere but the pancake ass truthers can have this one.

3) a character that fandom has helped you appreciate near! i was literally so middle of the road on him but reading some brilliant meronia works by besties like @neallo & @brothercrush really helped me understand why he's a beloved fan favorite.

8) you hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc) don't cancel me but i hope more people come to enjoy a bit of the darker/edgier/dead dove content that used to dominate the fandom. before anybody comes for me and says 'well you don't really write dead dove' 1) i have a few dead dove fics & 2) i started writing lighthearted stuff because i couldn't find any fluff that i liked.

16) a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate light is one of the only manga protags with a massive wardrobe.

24) how has fandom positively impacted your life? i don't know how to say this in a non-melodramatic (haha) way so i'll just be melodramatic. i actually think that rejoining the fandom and becoming a creator within it saved my life. i was at the tail end of the longest depressive episode of my life and i had to do SOMETHING. i racked my brain for the last time i cracked a smile and i remembered going on tumblr back in the halcyon days and looking at my light yagami jpegs iykyk. so i did that. and here i am. thank fuck!

fandom ask game

[balloon-garden]

✧.•°{RULES}°•.✧

✧1: 18+

We will be publishing smut, so no kids. Anyone without an age in their description will be blocked.

✧2: Be polite, and patient

We are busy beings who have a lot going on in our lives. We may need breaks, and we're writing for ourselves and for each other.

Being nasty towards the mods will get an instant block.

✧3: Give details, we will ignore simple asks that give us nothing to work with.

Anything too vague or "F/O x (Something)! Reader" or "(Something)!F/O X reader" are not enough.

We like freedom but we need ideas and a plot to work with.

✧4: Time limits are a no go

We made this blog to make things for each other, so unless you're paying us, then we're going to block you

✧5: We will only answer requests through the ask feature.

Do not ask in DMs, we will ignore and delete the conversation.

✧6: Will not accept any fandoms that are NOT listed

Look below, as the fandoms will be at the bottom. We will delete requests like this.

✧7: Too many details lead to things getting cut out or something that's not quite what you requested

Too many details might get some cut out. whether it be because they don't make sense, make the story jumbled, or maybe we have an idea that works with the request and it just gave us different inspiration.

It happens!

Remember, these are REQUESTS, not commissions, if we had to cut stuff out or inspiration takes us elsewhere, we'll tell you at the start.

You can always write for yourself. We don't take offense to that.

✧8: Ocs and Readers

We will not write for ocs, but we will write for readers

✧9: Edit or drawing requests

These will be things we will be picky about, but we might get inspired or have some fun with your requests

✧10: Pay attention if we're Closed or Open

Any requests that are sent while closed will be deleted.

✧.•°CAN DOS°•.✧

✧Platonic/Familial; Can be adults or children with an adult and rookie(and other staged) Digimon

✧Romance; Only adults and non-feral monsters

✧Queer; Bi/Pan, Ace, Poly, etc.

✧Sex; Female, Male, Nonbinary, and Trans, all are welcome

We don't mind neopronoun stuff too 👍

✧POC; Everyone is welcomed here

✧Disabilities; we have disabilities ourselves

✧AU's/crossovers; We can be picky though

Might be selective about it, but if you explain it to us, we'll likely try!

✧Crackships/Ships; Picky

Can be fun, but we might not have any ideas or may feel uncomfortable with some

✧ Yanderes/Tsunderes/Derederes/etc.; slightly picky.

depends on if it might fit the character. incredibly unlikely to do the "kills your family" type tropes for Yandere's unless it's a character we could genuinely see doing such things

✧TROPES/TAGS✧

✧ Fluff; Cuddles, dates, X

✧ Angst; (Picky) X, X

✧ Domestic

✧ Post-Canon/Pre-Canon/Mid-Canon/Bad Ending/etc.

✧ Redemption/Redemption Arc

✧ Roomates

✧ Mutual Pining

✧ Friends/Enemies to Lovers

✧NSFW✧

✧ Bondage; Rope, strapped down, cuffs, benches, Stocks, stuck

✧ Size play; Big top and small Sub—Big Sub and Small Top

✧ Creampies

✧ Body worship

✧.•°WILL NOT DO°•.✧

✧ Cancer; Of any kind, just won't do

✧ Kidnappings; No partners, readers, children, pets, or friend kidnappings

✧ Aging up characters

✧ Alpha/Omega/Beta

✧ Real life people; Actors, singers, just no irl people

✧ Gore

✧Self harm/Eating disorders

✧ Fetishizing Disorders of any kind

✧TROPES/TAGS✧

✧ Hospitals/Life threatening situations; Surgeries, crashes, abortions, etc

✧ Pregnancy/Birth; Female and Mpreg, Just won't

✧ Cheating; We promote healthy relationships 👍

✧ Abuse; Emotional, physical, etc.

✧ No Whump/Death fics

✧ Highschool AU

✧ Coffee Shop AU

✧ Divorce

✧ Love at first Sight

✧ Fake Relationship/Fake Dating

✧SHIPS✧

✧

✧

✧

✧

✧NSFW✧

✧ Underage; Anyone under 18 or considered underage for a race/species wil not be tolerated, yes, we will check

✧ Ageplay

✧ Petplay

✧ r@pe/general SA

✧ incest

✧ Ferals or sentient animals

✧ Feet

✧ Guro; Gore, missing limbs, etc

✧ Hentai; Ahegao faces, X

✧ Unrealistic sex; any hyper stuff [iykyk], impossible fits

✧ Certain fetish things; Vore, Inflation, etc

✧ Body fluids; Piss, shit, and vomit

(Will be added to as needed)

✧ If we are uncomfortable with an ask, we will delete it and may block you✧

✧.•°{FANDOMS}°•.✧

✧.•°{Mutual Fandoms}°•.✧

✧ Fandoms listed are ones we are okay to be requested from. We may post for fandoms that aren't listed here, and are stuff for the mods, that we were willing to share✧

✧ Creepypasta/Slenderverse

✧ OFF

✧ Splatoon

✧ Digimon

✧ Monster Fucker stuff

✧ Ace Attorney

✧ Final Fantasy (6, 7, 10)

✧ Dungeon Meshi

✧ Trapped with Jester

✧ + Maybe more

✧.•°🎪°•.✧

{Mirth Fandoms}

✧ Johnny the Homicidal Maniac [+ Vargas AU]

✧ Postal [1, 2, 4, + Brain Damaged] + Hatred

✧ Camp Camp

✧ BtD

✧ Slashers

✧ Homestuck/Hiveswap/Friendsim

✧ MDHM/John Doe/Lurking for Love/Frost Bite/SWwSDJ/etc.

✧ JJBA [Limited parts]

✧ Hetalia

✧ Osomatsu-San

✧ DDaDDS

✧ Faith : The Unholy Trinity

✧ + prolly other stuff too maybe

✧.•°🎪°•.✧

✧.•°🎡°•.✧

{Mask Fandoms}

✧ Mortal Kombat 10 and 11

✧Read dead redemption 2

✧The Witcher/Thronebreaker

✧Batman

✧Spiderman/Venom/Deadpool

✧X-Men

✧Duke Nukem

✧Darkest Dungeon

✧Ava's demon

✧.•°🎡°•.✧

✧.•°{Links}°•.✧

✧Introduction: {×}

✧Masterlist: {×}

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✧.•°{Please consider donating!}°•.✧

[starry-mist]

Oh hi. Welcome to my blog.

If you've been following me for more than five minutes, you'll know most of this already, but since there are some new folks, let me introduce myself and what you will/will not find here.

I'm a big (probably an understatement) Hudson & Rex fan. Specifically, I'm a huge Sarah Truong fan and probably one of the OG Charah shippers, but I love all of it. The cast, the scenery, the stories. That being said: I am critical of shit the show does that I dislike, or (more often than not) things that I find particularly problematic. I firmly believe in being appropriately critical of the media I consume (h/t to @farfarawaygirl for the creation of my absolute favourite tag), and it's not always going to be sunshine and roses here. I don't do toxic positivity. If you're looking for "OMG Charah are forever perfection and these characters can do no wrong ever," look elsewhere. I don't do character hero worship. Characters have flaws. They'd be boring AF if they didn't. For example, if you were here for my H&R season 4 journey, which also included a bit of a mental breakdown, you know I will just as easily criticise my faves when they're being...not great...in the same breath as I will gush about how much I love them. I try to keep it real.

Occasionally I reblog stuff from other fandoms, but I have a tendency not to use tags for ships/fandoms that get...shall we say, a little *heated* from time to time (IYKYK.)

I'm "fandom old." AKA I was probably reading/writing fic before many of you were born. Why is this relevant? Because I'm not an "I write fic for engagement and kudos and whatnot" person, I'm more "I write fic because I enjoy exploring characters, and sometimes I'll share it on AO3." Basically: I'm probably way too old for this site, and I'm definitely too old to care about things like clout, or being "fandom famous" or infamous, or whatever the kids are into these days. I write because I want to. I don't engage with "you must interact with creations in this specific way or else you suck" takes. I get that there are people who take that stuff very seriously, and that's cool, you do you.

I write smut. If you can't deal with that, don't read it. I'm not going to apologize for including sex scenes in many of my fics. Tags and ratings exist for a reason, and I will always use them appropriately to ensure readers know what they're getting into.

If you know who I am on other social media, no you don't. Seriously. I keep my fandom life separate from my real life for a reason. Please respect that.

I love engaging in lively debate. I don't block often (unless you're a pornbot, which, if so, GO AWAY.) If I do, it's to protect my peace. If you block me, I assume it's for the same reason, and wish you well, or whatever.

I don't do fandom gatekeeping. It's weird. People engage with different media for different reasons, and expect different things from it, and that's okay.

Anyway. Just felt like putting that out there, in case people are in any way wondering where I'm coming from when I post certain takes, or reblog certain things. Thanks for reading.

[sulisstuff]

Sulisstuff explained!

Hello there! And welcome to my blog!

I've been on Tumblr for over 6 years. In the past I've had several blogs with this one previously being a meme page for Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks' miniseries Band of Brothers.

Now. I still love Band of Brothers, but I decided that I wanted to turn this blog into something more general.

So, why not get to know me a little?

In this post I'll discuss a few things:

Who I am

Where I'm from

What languages I speak

Fandoms I'm active in

My type of content

Well. You know the drill...

So, if you'd like to get to know me a little bit, read it below the cut!

PS. At the bottom you'll find a very heartwarming surprise : ')

First of all:

This blog is NOT dedicated to the godess named Sulis OR to Aquae Sulis, known for the Roman baths.

My blogname is just an easy way of writing Suli’s stuff. Gotcha?

Suli’s stuff = sulisstuff

Yeah? Okay, good. You can go on.

Soo, second of all:

What's my name?

My name is Suli.

It's not my actual name, but it's the name I'm comfortable with to put on the internet. So you can just call me Suli on this blog, even if you do actually know me ;)

Now, I mentioned Sulis and that my blogs name is just a version of Suli's stuff

But to those who are fan of James Cameron's Avatar and Avatar: The Way of Water: I'm sorry. My name also doesn't have anything to do with Jake Sully's Na'vi name "Tsyeyk Suli"

I do absolutely love Avatar and I love the connection it has, but it's not based off of it.

Where am I from?

I'm from the Netherlands. I was born and raised Dutch and I'm proud of it! (gekoloniseerd)

So, since I'm Dutch, I feel like I have to mention that the Dutch people seem to be known for their fondness of swearing and cursing.

And I do feel like I also have to mention that I'm no exception.

Like, not in the slightest. Sorry

Iykyk...

My blog won't be filled with swearwords though, but I also won't make sure that it isn't. So if you have a problem with swearwords, you should probably look elsewhere.

Still love you all <3

What languages do I speak?

My first language is Dutch! I'm completely fluent and it's the language I speak on a daily basis.

My second language is English. I was not raised speaking English and I started taking English classes in school when I was about 12 years old. I consider myself pretty fluent in the language, but naturally I still make some mistakes as it is not my first language.

And after that I've had five years of German classes when I was in school, but I can't say I speak the language very well. I do understand it moderately though, but just don't ask me to translate it haha.

What are my pronouns/preferences?

I was born as a female and I identify as a female, so my pronouns are she/her.

I'm straight, and not part of the LGBTQ+ community, but I love and support everyone to be who they are and I will not accept any form of racism or discrimination on my blog! People who comment negatively on those matters will be reported and blocked immediately. No hate on this blog, just love!

What fandoms am I active in?

I'm active in several fandoms. Here are a few things listed that I absolutely love. Though you will see some stuff more regularly than others

Movies

Avatar

Avatar: The Way of Water

Dune

Series

Band of Brothers

The Witcher

Stranger Things

The Alienist

Knightfall

Reign

The Pacific

Currently watching: The Tudors (But I'm progressing very slowly because I never seem to have the concentration or motivation to finish a series. Sometimes I'm hooked and can't be "unhooked" for months but I still have to find that "hooked-button" for the Tudors)

Books

The Ranger's Apprentice / De Grijze Jager

Sports

Formula 1

What type of content can be expected?

On this blog I will post just random stuff related to the fandoms I'm in.

I actually love to write and I've been writing stories since I was 10 years old, but I've never actually published them anywhere. And if I do write, it will only be in Dutch. I master the English language very well, but not well enough to actually write stories I will be satisfied with.

So, if people would like me to write anything for the things I listed above, I will surely try, but it has to be okay if it's only written in Dutch :)

Furthermore I will probably post memes and other content related to the things I love!

Also, here's the heartwarming surprise I promised you. It’s the beautiful profile picture I created especially for this blog.

Gotta love Microsoft Paint.

We tried... Wef

ailed

:')

(Tap for better quality. you'll need it)

[x3rrorx]

2- It is pathetic to use the argument: “We support your lifestyle”. Bitch, please shut up.

I haven't seen anyone say that (on here anyway, iykyk). You might not like the brutality of the facts but we are paying consumers of their art, which allows them to continue living that life. If fans stopped consuming, they would have to look elsewhere for a way of supporting their lifestyle (your phrase, not mine). No one is stomping their feet and acting like they 'own' them just because they're stating a simple fact.

Jeff Bezos wouldn't be living the life he is if everyone stopped 'consuming' Amazon (obviously he's kinda past relying on Amazon but you get my point). It's a fact of life. Hell, I wouldn't live the lifestyle I do if my career didn't exist.

Their chosen career isn't as straight forward as working in retail (random example). If you lose your job in retail there are a hundred other stores on the street you can go find a job in. If they lose their fans, and people stop consuming their music and going to their shows, they start losing income. So common sense tells you that they should keep their fans sweet. That doesn't mean becoming their friends, or sharing more of their personal life than they're willing to. It doesn't mean people should be invading their personal life or doxxing them or making up shit.

But from a business perspective (and Bad Omens is very much a business) making your fans feel appreciated would go a long way for them. I don't know how they missed the memo.

As people, I understand they might not know how to handle certain situations, I think emotionally they definitely don't (and that's even before they blew up). But there are people out there who do and could easily be brought into their circle to not only advise them but also deal with a lot of the 'drama' that they themselves perpetuate at times.

I think there are times when things are said about them professionally and people jump in emotionally to defend them on a personal level when it has nothing to do with that.

Professionally, saying thanks and showing gratitude to your fans makes amazing business sense, and it actually wouldn't cost them anything personally.

[neo-shitty]

under streetlights — s.cb

description. when his own light dims, changbin wades the darkness of both the night and his mind alone. he needs someone tonight but that isn’t something the local convenience store across the street can offer. or can it?

pairings. seo changbin x female reader

genre. hurt/comfort, fluff, platonic(?), student council!au, high school!au

warnings. mentions of passing out, a nosebleed and a lot of overthinking.

word count. 5k

notes. a very much needed backstory for my favorite checkmate duo, iykyk :’D happy changbin day!!

Changbin wakes to a brightness that burns, the type that forces your lids back shut when a sliver of it slips in. The tears sting as they spring from the glands in his eyes, blurring his vision but cushioning the blinding beam. It takes a few blinks for him to open his eyes wide enough and a few more for his vision to refocus. There’s a white ceiling above him, adjacent to an off-white wall with peeling paint. He makes a mental note, request for repaint, until he realizes that the council office’s walls were never white nor did the office have a bed. 

He’s not in his office at all, he’s in the school clinic. The fresh linen beneath him is stiff and unused, the air around him smelling of diluted isopropyl alcohol. Now that he knew where he was, it was only a matter of how he ended up there. 

The memories come in a haze, a movie screen with too many cuts to black. His senses were dull, half-aware of happenings and never completely certain which moments were real and which weren’t. He remembers having his arm draped over someone’s shoulder, hearing their mutters but never making out what they’re saying. Most of his view consisted of the endless pattern of white tiles mazing around the buildings, the floor becoming his sole focus because looking up made the world spin. Next thing he knew, he was on the clinic bed, watching shadows crowd around him. Faces and voices didn’t match anymore, and he thinks it was the effort of trying to discern the figures apart that finally knocked him out. 

Then, he ends up here, on the other side of a familiar situation.

It didn’t feel like it had been a year since he got a call from the school nurse about a friend passing out in the middle of the day. He rushed from the fourth floor to first where the clinic was, causing a roadblock in the middle of the hallway with their other friends in mid-panic. He was the only one allowed in on the grounds of being Chan’s emergency contact. In the infirmary, Chan lay still on the bed, eyes shut with his breathing slow but steady. A sense of relief washed over the younger boy, his worries calmed at the thought that the older boy hadn’t been anywhere dangerous when he passed out. Beside him, a hunched Taehee rested on the free space on the bed, head tucked in her own arm pillow.

“You two. What did I say about overworking?” The thoughts come aloud but it’s not enough to disrupt the quiet of the room. The urge to rub it into their faces that he was right takes the under current, his concern for their health bobbing up to the surface. Earlier the same day he remembered greeting the duo in the hallway, recalling that they headed home past midnight the night before but were already on campus before first light.

“If you’re going to scold us about it, can you do it later? My head’s throbbing.”

The girl stirs, blinking at the other person in the room before she pushes herself off the bed. Her cheek is red, marks of a good nap imprinted on her skin. Her eyes were bloodshot, veins clear, and rimmed with a dark shadow from the lack of sleep. 

“What happened?” Changbin asks, walking over to be closer to the pair.

Taehee turns to the sleeping figure, her answer delayed. “He complained about his nose bleeding at first then he brushed it off for the rest of the morning. Then he passed out before we got to leave to buy materials.”

Across the room, Changbin couldn’t help but feel relieved that he hadn’t fainted elsewhere. A dozen scenarios raced in his mind, each one a far worse end than the other. What if he fainted while driving? The thought scared him but the reassurance of seeing Chan there was enough to settle his mind.

“Is it 1 already? I need to head back to the office. Are you here to take my place?” The girl stood up from her seat, walking over to a mirror hanging on the wall to fix herself up before turning to the doorway.

“What do you mean you’re heading back? Look at yourself. Do you want to end up like Chan?”

“There’s still a lot to do. And besides, I got to sleep.”

“Barely.” Changbin spat, stepping past the girl to block her way out. She stares, the turmoil of her internal tug of war showing in the way she doesn’t fight back. He shakes his head at her, “Leave it. Go home or head to the dorms or stay at Saeyeon’s place since it’s closer. Get some rest, you clearly need it.”

The girl hesitates and Changbin knows it’s because of the proximity of the event. They had more or less a day left to ensure everything went smoothly. There was a lot to fix, a lot to settle. But they’ve been at it for days now, classes disregarded with their time dedicated to nothing but preparations. He is adamant to make them sit this one out, seeing no other solution convenient for their own bodies besides this one. 

“If you’re worried about what you still need to do, we can help. Everyone’s waiting outside and I think we’re free for the rest of the afternoon with the teachers busy.”

What Changbin had in mind was a shaky plan but it was something they could execute. Lia already had the council’s permission beforehand, taking over obligations meant for the pair. It would be easier to carry out with more hands helping in. They had the resources to move around the city, the energy to find what they needed, and the motivation which was to get off campus without skirting around school authorities.

Taehee sighs and he takes it as a sign of surrender. “You know, you’d make a better president. Imagine getting mad at someone for passing out? I can’t wait for this school year to be over with.” She moves towards the bed, picking up a backpack from the bedside. “Thanks, Bin. You should try running for office next year. The council needs someone like you.”

Changbin clicks his tongue as he watches her leave, “The only thing I’ll get out of it is stress.”

But here he is, in the same place he scolded Chan for being in the year before, except there’s no one by his side when he wakes up. No one hunched by his side, no one on the next bed waiting for him to open his eyes. He’s met with a lonely silence with nothing but the faint hum of the fluorescent lights lined on the ceiling to keep him company.

He sits up, leaning over the bed to reach his things. His bag sat on the floor beside his bed, his things in the unorganized manageable mess he left it. Sifting through his things, he checks for anything that could’ve been tampered with. He finds his phone easily as the screen blinks bright with a new notification, then his car keys, then his wallet. There is a vacancy he couldn’t quite put his finger on until he realized the bag lacked the sole thing that kept it heavy. Papers, a binder full of it.

It throws his mind into a mini-panic, all rationality thrown out the window as his mind splits to figure where he might’ve misplaced it. Did he manage to pass every letter he needed to before he passed out in the clinic? Was it never in his bag at all? 

“You’re finally awake.” His things nearly slip out of his fingers when someone speaks from behind him. Turning to the doorway, he finds the school nurse by the door frame, waving as she walks in. “Did you rest well?”

Changbin nodded as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, packing his things up to leave. “Sorry for making you wait up.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s part of the job.” The older woman reassures him, reading his mind in the natural way that mothers always did. “Someone dropped by to take a file out of your bag. She said you’d know why so I didn’t bother asking much.”

“Who did?”

“The girl you’re with a lot,” the nurse answers, her hands moving as she details the features.

Only one face comes to mind and all his worries melt in a stream, reassurance replacing anxiousness at the thought that the binder was in good hands, better hands. He thanks the nurse a final time before he walks out, waiting for the nurse to finish closing up before he leaves her to walk the opposite way.

When he’s out the door, the school is quiet as he might’ve expected this late into a school day. The festivities haven’t started yet. It’s strange seeing the same halls with no people, half-decorated for the upcoming event but with no one there to celebrate it. The colored streamers web the halls, criss-crossing across opposite walls and putting a touch of life in the otherwise empty corridor. It looks different under a different light, or under the lack of it. It felt as if the school held its breath in the night, almost in the same way that he had been holding his for the past few nights leading up to the event.

It was the first of the many school activities he needed to spearhead as student council president. Everything about it was shaky, the foundation not sturdy enough to withstand what might come. The past administration set the standards high and all the pressure came crashing down on him and everyone who now stood in their place. But the weight was heavier on him as the leader in the course of action. There was an unspoken agenda for every meeting everyone in the room felt, the need to reach or out-do what the prior years had set up. 

So for every plan, he went all out. It helped being a son of someone known to the area, the web of connections reached places he never imagined. There were a lot of people he could invite with the snap of his finger, people he could hire with one call and a sure-yes answer, people willing to sponsor expenses. But the sheer number was overwhelming to manage, the number of approvals making him question if every single choice was the right one to make. He felt like he needed to please everyone, taking it roughly the first time he had to fold his hand to give way to another person’s idea. It was rough to rule with an iron fist and impossible to satisfy every single person no matter how hard he tried. He’d been told straight that past presidents were better, and that he only won because of the last name he carried. Those words stung most, but to give way to them would only mean proving them right.

Still there were nights like these that convinced him that maybe they had been right. The school year had only just started, this was the first of many chances he could use to prove to everyone that he was so much more than his last name. His confidence isn’t sturdy even when his facade says otherwise, and everything about him is unsure at best. How could he prove he is strong when he barely makes it past the first hurdle?

Changbin felt like he’d fallen back too many steps in the single afternoon. So when he regained his composure, he went straight ahead with the obligations he left for the few hours of rest he got for the afternoon. In seconds he was dialing phone numbers he should’ve rang hours ago, gearing himself up for displeased responses and coming up with back up plans in worst case scenarios. He rings the lights and sounds rental, then the person hired for decor, then one of the sponsors for the food stalls. But, to his surprise, everyone he called talked to him calmly, sharing the same response; everything has already been settled. 

It takes him the third call to check up on the council’s calendar agenda, booting up the app to check if everything on the afternoon to-do list had been ticked off. He’s surprised to find each one crossed out, the boxes faded and their text struck out with a single dash across.

The council group chat is noisy when he opens it, active with an exchange of what to do next until they notice that he’d seen the messages. Then it was a grand welcome, as grand as a bunch of exhausted students could manage anyway. He types in an apology that feels half-assed, half of his honesty too clouded by his pride. But he tries his best to lay out how his afternoon went, the reasons why he passed out in the middle of a busy day. As he expected there was a mix of emotions in its reception, others warm and others cold—unforgiving. He couldn’t blame them, if he were in their place he’d be disappointed in him too. 

In the middle of the overwhelming heaviness, there are small reassurances that they got everything done today. There were little setbacks, those that required his presence but they were nothing major. He hates the show of weakness, the shake on the podium he already never felt deserving to stand behind. It’s an unnecessary comparison to make, an insecurity he couldn’t quite shake off, but he hates the realization that he’d never seen the previous president let his team carry weight the way he did today.

The second he steps outside of the campus feels like his first breath of fresh air after a long dive, his lungs finally filling with oxygen after so long. But he isn’t completely free of its shackles, his shortcomings dragging along and scraping on the pavement as he crossed the street to the convenience store. The weight is heavier today than most days because the half-day he spent out of it was a tedious chunk of time that went to waste. There were still deadlines to meet and he’s not sure how to make sure everything still fits before the events starts.

But for now, he’s starving and he momentarily reassures himself that he’ll settle everything once his head clears. 

He pushes the door open, greets the staff before heading to the ramen aisle as if his feet were on auto-pilot. There is no choosing to do when his favorite is available, he picks it out with a packet of cheese and a side-dish before he spins back to the counter. 

Then the door swings open, the silence of the early night in the convenience store shattered when someone walks in, screaming into the phone in their hand.

“I said ‘okay’, okay?! I’ll be home as soon as I’m done. I couldn’t answer your calls because, as I told you, we were busy. I’m at the 7/11 by the school and I’m heading home after I eat. Goodbye!” Changbin didn’t need to eavesdrop too close to know that whoever was on the other end of the line didn’t have a chance to rebut before the line went dead.

His ears ring with the familiarity of the voice, the thin rise of pitch as it gets more and more frustrated. It’s the same one he heard during meetings when opposing parties started disagreeing, the one that tries to quiet the room in a calmer way than he did. He doesn’t think that you saw him and by the time he finished paying, you had already disappeared down the aisle to the back of the store. When he reached you, your pockets were full with your hands, your phone nowhere to be seen now. You stared down the chillers as you tried to pick out from the wide variety of drinks the store had to offer. 

He watches as you pick up a can of soda, your nimble fingers peeking out of your sweater sleeves to clutch the aluminum can.

“You’re scary to talk to on the phone. You sure you didn’t get them deaf?”

Your hands curl around the door, pushing it back shut to reveal who stood behind the frosted glass. Changbin stood with one hand waving at you, the other hooked around the plastic bag filled with the things he bought. “You’re here!” you beam at him, nudging his shoulder as you pass him on your way to the counter. “Are you okay now?”

Was he okay now? Changbin wasn’t sure why he dwells on the question far longer than he needs to. It was a standard question to ask for someone who passed out and spent the afternoon knocked out in the school clinic. But for him, it was overwhelming, a subtle culture shock. Has it been that long since he wanted someone to check up on him that when someone finally did, he’s stumped?

“Binnie?”

The nickname lures his mind out of the space it had wandered into, his head snapping up to meet your gaze as you glanced at him over your shoulder. He follows you blindly, weaving through the convenience store to pick up a bag of chips before heading to the counter. “I woke up so I’m fine, I guess?” he says. “The nurse mentioned that you took something from my bag?”

“Oh, yeah!” You set the items on the counter before you shrug off your bag strap, ripping the zipper open to hand the binder—now, lighter—back to him. “There were letters we needed to submit today. I remembered they were with you but I didn’t get to ask for them back before what happened. I didn’t take anything else, I promise.”

“It’s fine.” He takes the file back, holding it between fingers. 

The man behind the counter scans both items through, announcing the total in a grumble afterwards. Before you could fish out the bills from your wallet, Changbin slides over a few bills. 

You spin around to him to find him looking away, avoiding your gaze. “Really?”

“It’s nothing. A little thank you for taking over earlier. I couldn’t function well anymore.” 

You mutter a thank you to him then at the cashier then proceed to swipe your items up before they could bag them up in plastic. “Normal. No sleep and no food? Anyone wouldn’t function right that way.”

The room falls quiet as they split, you heading for the tables and him rounding back to prepare his meal. Your sudden appearance clears a patch in the clouds and allows a stream of light through the overcast. Somehow Changbin forgets what he’d been worried about, his mind set back into the present instead of worrying of what could go wrong in the upcoming days. He makes his way back to the front, finding your table and sitting across you.

Before he even asks you, you give him a run down of everything you got done—reading through the notes you’ve typed in your phone. He listens, nodding as you went, one task after the other as was listed on his own list. You’ve been to places today, all of which he would’ve gone to if he managed to pull through. But you did fine on your own, only having one incident set back the schedule a bit.

“They didn’t believe me when I told them I was calling for the SSA reservation,” you say, looking up to him. You startle when you find him looking down at you from across the table. The smile you give him is shy, small and sheepish, then you bow your head again. “I can’t believe you needed to do all that on your own. We were moving in teams and it was still a lot to handle.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” This time, you’re the one to meet his gaze, your brows in a thin knitted line over the bridge of your nose. “We’re a council of people and you’re doing everything on your own?”

With a single question, Changbin feels seen, the conversation heading somewhere he’d been avoiding for a while now. “It’s nothing I can’t do.”

“And look where that got you.” When he looks at you, he knows that you’re oblivious of the echo you’ve started in his mind. He never thought he’d hear it from you, his own words thrown back at him as if to call out that he’d lost sight of the principles he lived by, like he couldn’t bring himself to practice what he used to preach.

“I never thought I’d hear you scold me,” he says, shoving noodles into his mouth to avoid the way you were looking at him—the way you saw right through every wall he’d put up. 

“All I’m saying is don’t do everything when there are other people willing to help. We feel helpless and useless with you doing everything.” You’re talking to the table now, fingers playing with the chip’s wrapper now that you’ve eaten everything. “It’s almost like you look down on us, like you don’t trust us. We’re elected officers too, you know. The responsibilities that come with the titles are things we’re willing to do.”

Your eyes wander over to his and where he searches for resentment, he finds none. “I’m sorry. I never thought that you guys would feel that way. It feels like I’m putting too much burden on you.”

“Please, you’re doing enough, Changbin. Wish I heard that apology from someone else though,” you backtrack and it cracks a smile on his face and yours. “Next time, split the work with everyone equally. If you want to do a bit more, feel free, but don’t leave us with nothing entirely.”

He nods his head.

“Promise?”

In the space between you, you held out your hand. You had three fingers folded, pinky jutting out his way. Pinky promises were a thing of the past, something he hadn’t used in keeping promises since he was in middle school. Promises had long lost their meaning, the power of locked pinkies no longer strong enough to keep what had been agreed upon.

But tonight, he makes an exception, especially with him being on the keeping end. It was something for the better after all. What reason did he have not to keep it?

“Promise,” he agrees, offering his pinky for yours to curl around. 

You lock your fingers together, grinning as you pull his hand up to seal them with a thumb to thumb touch. “Make sure of it or that finger comes off the next time you try to shoulder everything.”

The moment shatters when your phone’s vibrations ripple across the table, seconds before it begins to ring. Your hand hurries up to lock it, the phone going silent before too many heads turn in your direction but you leave the call unanswered. “I gotta go,” you tell him.

“I can drive you,” he says, downing the last of his soup before standing right after you do. While he fears indigestion, he couldn’t have you sticking around for him.

“It’s a waste of gas! Save the Earth, I only live a few blocks away.”

“Then I can walk you home.”

So he does. You walk out the 7/11 together, one following right after the other, and into the empty sidewalks. It was getting later by the minute and the streets on this side of town were growing more and more quiet as most of its occupants settled inside the comfort of their homes. 

The world around you still moves in the dying pace of the daylight rush but you walk at a leisurely pace. The cars speed past you, beating red lights, and leaving a cacophony of sharp beeps in its wake. The air is cooler now that fall was creeping in but the wind still carried a faint touch of summer warmth. Either that or Changbin felt that way because, for the first time since he started walking around the block to clear his mind, he had someone with him.

You weren’t even talking or touching, just walking side by side on the wide sidewalks as others passed you without even batting a glance your way. There’s a sense of relief that he hadn’t spiralled further than he would’ve. Tonight, he doesn’t feel lonely and he’s thankful for the company.

“Thank you.” The phrase comes out of nowhere as they stop by a red pedestrian light. The world falls out naturally but out of context. When you look back at him with a confused expression, he knew there was a need to elaborate further. “For covering for me earlier,” because he knows you were the one pulling the strings and everyone else just followed, “and for keeping me company,” because his thoughts would’ve gotten to him if you weren’t around.

You beam at him, smiling back as the lights ahead blinked green. “Thank you for offering to walk me home and of course, the free food,” you answer. “Asking for help isn’t really a sign of weakness, if you’re worried about that.”

He nods as he listens, even when the piece of advice was bound to slip his mind sooner or later. Your reminders were things he once lived by, some he said like a broken record to other people. To Chan when he was overworking himself the year before, to Minho when he got himself into one sticky situation after the other, or to anyone who needed to hear it. But he discovered that it was harder to carry it out, his own internalized dispute with seeing dependency as a sign of not being strong enough weighing him down more than keeping him balanced.

Hearing the same things echoed back at him was warming, even when he knew the deep-rooted mindset would require much more than that to uproot, he would at the very least try. It was a start, a tentative step in the right direction. He looks over you and the solemn face you keep as you walk down the streets. There was something about another presence orbiting, having someone ask how he was holding up that meant a lot more than he thought. He was always used to carrying himself, carrying everyone else’s burdens, utterly unaware that he was bearing more than his limit. 

But tonight, there was someone else willing to hold up the light for him as he waded through the dark parts of his thoughts, one who was willing to stick by as his facade crumbled, one who allowed him to rest when pretending became too tiring. Walking alongside a person whose concern bled between words and actions, he feels how it’s like to be the one to be reached out to, to be the one holding on to the helping hand not being the one to reach out. And while it doesn’t feel the same, his mind at war that he doesn’t deserve a treatment this gentle, it’s nice to have someone guide him through the dark even just for now. 

The establishments die down at the next corner, the commercial area slowly turning into a quiet neighborhood. Here, the buildings no longer held up bright signs for businesses. The tall, narrow houses stood side by side in varying heights on the slope leading uptown. You stop abruptly, a few doors down from what Changbin knew to be your house.

“You can leave me here,” you say, turning to him. “Sorry for making you walk here. Now you have to walk all the way back.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s fine? You wouldn’t have gotten home this late if it weren’t for me. It was the least I could do.”

The look on your face tells him that you still had something up your sleeve, some kind of rebuttal that would turn in an endless rally of proving the other person wrong until you both grew tired. But your phone was ringing endlessly in your hand, the angry caller ID still blinking as you bid your goodbye.

Before Changbin could turn back the way he came, he stumbles backward, yanked by the arm. He turns and finds you behind him. “Go to sleep early, alright? Don’t bother coming to school early if you’re going to pass out halfway. We have important appointments tomorrow afternoon, so if you’re planning to skip half a day, make it the morning. You’d need the extra rest, you’ll need it for the next few days.”

You’re walking backwards from him now, up the road until you reach your house. His responses are nothing but nods, the bobbing of his head making him a tad bit dizzy until he resorts to saying ‘yes’ out loud. 

It starts there, he remembers that it starts there—the little thing you shared that the rest of the world hasn’t stained with its touch. You raised a hand at him, this time it’s a thumb up as you stopped on the steps leading up to your door. “Okay?” you ask him, voice faint from the distance down the street.

Changbin holds his own hand up, thumb jutting out to mirror you. “Okay.”

It was a small thing in the grand scheme of life but he remembers the little gesture brightened his days. Mid-meetings, pre-speeches, at class when he spaces out, at the gym when the noise of the crowd seemed to drown him in thoughts of his own. It’s what keeps him reminded that in the midst of his own rainy days, there was someone out there who cared enough to make an effort to keep him dry. An umbrella against an endless downpour, a single light following him down a dark road. Just one, just you, but it’s more than enough.

© neo-shitty, 2022

[tllgrrl]

Snowed-In, Elsewhere

@SarahandBucky Prompt Fest / Week 1: Snowed In

#december in Delacroix eventually

A 300+/- words. G-Rated, drabblething based on the prompt “Snowed In”. Guess where it ain’t snowin’. Tha’s right, Delacroix Louisiana. IYKYK.

”…and the snow is still falling, blanketing the Eastern Seaboard. All flights in and out of La Guardia have been cancelled for the past 18 hours and now, all flights out of DC are cancelled as well, leaving passengers stranded at…”

Sarah opens her eyes and sees the Weather Channel Lady in front of a map with snowflake graphics covering a large swath of the East Coast, from above New York State, down past Washington DC.

The scrolling text lists all the airlines that have canceled flights coming into or leaving which airports.

There’s La Guardia…and there’s the flight they were supposed to be on yesterday afternoon. Today’s flights are also canceled.

She feels Bucky’s arm tighten around her and a scratchy face nuzzling her shoulder.

She looks over, sees their backpacks and carry-ons still waiting by the door…and his warm hand opens on her breast as he kisses the nape of her neck.

“Molo, baby.” Sleep still in his voice, making it all deeply rumbly in his chest, and she feels it on her back.

Yesterday morning after breakfast, they learned their late afternoon flight out had been canceled. All the flights out were canceled.

She had a good cry, phoned the kids, and he brought his mattress into the living room of the loft.

They made a blanket fort, where they spent the day reading, listening to music, dancing and napping.

After dinner, they watched movies, and he snuggled her closer. “This isn’t so bad, doll. Rather be here with you than being stuck, snowed in at the airport. We’ll get home to Delacroix before Christmas Eve.”

“Mmmm, true, baby.”

And he kissed her. And kissed her.

And she kissed him right back.

They fell sleep…afterward…with Netflix’s Fireplace video on the TV, as snow fell on Brooklyn.