#< that tag gets more fitting the more he grows. oops!

[tiredassmage]

" I lay claim to this corrupted legacy - art of my kin, my forefathers... in desperate, blasphemed hope it'll do us any damn good, for once... Damned. I'm afraid 'damned' is about all it'll get me.., and them. Mark me another fool begging for forgiveness. I merely hope it has not cost them all chances of salvation... "

aka I'm bullying him with picking up a sorta gone-wrong version of reaper sometime during his adventures in the first. an art he was barely familiarized with as lapis manalis was abandoned and the last of the reapers fled a crumbling legacy in garlemald.

in desperation, perhaps, to save his companions some of the burden of hunting the lightwardens, tyr searched his old memories and teachings for any sway they might offer over the sineaters, but such bargains are always struck with a cost, and in a world so terribly out of balance already, gambling his own life for the most fleeting tease of control over such a creature may have been a fool's bargain.

but there's little help or recourse for that now, short of carrying on to the bitter end with a shaky prayer it will not be the foolish specter of guilt with the last laugh at the curtain's fall - or his life might be the least of the casualties.

[joshujin]

dude, nice try!

◀ part one • series masterlist • part two

joshua hong has had the immense privilege of living 30 whole years without ever feeling so much as an ounce of jealousy. that is, until you come prancing into his picture-perfect life on your dumb burner account with evidence that his long-time girlfriend is cheating on him… with your boyfriend.

as he gets tangled up in your chaotic plan to get back at your adulterous partners, he begins to wonder if this growing discomfort in his chest was ever even heartbreak to begin with, or if it’s something entirely new to him—something that has the ability to eat him alive from the inside out.

♫ get him back! olivia rodrigo ⟡ my kink is karma chappell roan ⟡ see u never niki ⟡ good to me seventeen

pairing: joshua x fem!reader part two: 14.6k words cw: strong language, mentions of/implied sexual activity, kms joke, reader is highly emotional and tbh kind of crazy maybe even toxic but idc bc i support women’s rights and wrongs <3 tags: cheating (not between main ship), strangers to partners-in-crime to partners PERIOD, joshua pov, pining, he fell first AND harder oops, he’s also so incredibly whipped from the jump, a few smau bits but mostly writing, no smut, inspired by get him back! by miss rodrigo a/n: oh nothing, just me getting carried away with the dialogue and my word count like usual :) to the anon that requested this: pls feel free to pop back into my ask and tell me how you think this is going LOL. i'm having fun writing it but i know the jealousy isn't fully fleshed out yet. to everyone else: ENJOY!

dividers by @cafekitsune cover by yours truly!

joshua was being sincere with you when he told you he wasn’t a good bar to set yourself against when it came to breakups. 

there was stephanie from when he was still in college in the U.S.; they broke up because he decided to move back to korea. it was amicable for the most part, but he probably could’ve given her a more generous heads up than the two weeks he did give her. it wasn’t until a year or so later that she realized how unfair that had been and made sure joshua knew—with a series of voice memo texts that were nearly 15 minutes each. 

then, he dated miyoung. she was nice but she also decided she wanted to get married within the next year only three months in, and as a 23-year-old, joshua was freaked out enough to run almost immediately. his relationship with miyoung ended on a phone call that lasted three hours because she was sobbing so hard, he didn’t have the heart to hang up even though he had no idea how to comfort her. he saw her consistently for weeks after out of pure guilt until jeonghan pointed out that this was just a disguised way of stringing her along.

after that, there was bada, nari, bora, aram, and hana, all girls he casually dated for no longer than a handful of weeks before one of them decided it actually wasn’t a fit for various, mostly dumb reasons. nari told him she didn’t like that he collected cologne and had three times as much perfume as she did. he left aram because she ate so messily, it gave him the ick. though apparently, that might be something he doesn’t mind anymore.

he dated yumi for six months, and to this day, she’s still the only serious girlfriend of his that broke up with him. she told him that she felt like after six months, she still barely knew him, and that he was “too concerned” with upholding an image of himself that “didn’t feel real.” he went straight to therapy for that one.

and when he felt a little better in his own skin and ready to put a “realer” version of himself out there, he met mina. mina, his longest relationship, and up until now, someone he was convinced was his first love. he said as much anyway. he was the first to tell her he loved her, he reminded her he did every day, and he thought they had a nice, long future ahead of them. what he pictured in that future exactly, he had no clue. but after an odd and somewhat unlucky streak in dating, he finally felt like mina was a nice and comfy place to land.

he’s never been more wrong about something in his entire life. 

and after the laughable amount of breakups he’s experienced, he’s also never been angrier after the end of a relationship in his entire life.

mina was proving to be a lot of firsts for him—first cheater, first master manipulator and liar, first person who’s ever made him wonder if he could possibly switch over to dating men instead… or simply stop dating at all! sure, he would die alone but he would die in peace. 

whatever the case, he's quickly approaching the conclusion that “first love” is not among those firsts, and it probably never was. no amount of teasing from you or jeonghan did it, but in less than a handful of minutes spent breaking up with mina, he is a million percent sure this was not someone he could have loved. or else what did that say about him and his taste?

sixteen minutes earlier

joshua arrives at mina’s apartment exactly two hours after work ends for her—5 p.m. every day because she always scheduled a pilates class at 5:30 p.m. thirty minutes for her to get to her class, one hour for her to finish it, 30 minutes for her to get home, zero minutes for her to get clean because he doesn’t care how presentable she is when he dumps her. 

plus, however long it takes joshua to end this—hopefully a lot shorter than his experience with miyoung.

he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was coming over; he didn’t think she really deserved that courtesy. he may be intent on a clean break, but he also wanted this to be as annoying for her as it has been for him.

so at a prompt 7 p.m., joshua finds himself casually leaning against the elevator’s railing, ascending the floors of mina’s apartment and feeling almost excited to be free of this experience. 

after he got off the phone with you, he decided he would bite the bullet when work was over. he spent the rest of his day absentmindedly finishing his reports, periodically stopping to scribble an idea for what he would say to his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

he takes the folded piece of paper out of his pocket now and runs over his options again.

his levels of shame and self-pity were sky high when he first pulled out his notepad at the office to write his thoughts out, but after texting you and letting you know what he planned to do, you insisted on meeting at a cafe beforehand to brainstorm together while he waited for mina’s pilates class to end. and once you both workshopped the entire list, his embarrassment diminished almost completely.

it was clear you took this a lot more seriously than he did. he doesn't know what he expected; you probably have a manila folder stuffed full of notes for what you plan to do to siwoo.

as such, you were very helpful. sure, you were also really distracting, with your subtle, spiced perfume he recognized as lola james harper, and your daunting and unrelenting eye contact, and the way your eyes smiled all on their own when they weren’t busy crying over siwoo, and the fact that you graced him with your laugh in person for the first time (every bit as fun as he thought it would be), and everything else that came with just existing in your presence.

all of it was really distracting—almost to the point of it being entirely counterproductive for him. almost, if it weren’t for the fact that you were so determined on his behalf to make this the most unpleasant experience for mina. he was mostly pleased with where you two landed, and if anything, he at least had a better idea of what he wanted to say.

he reads the completely ruined paper, a mess of his black ink and wrinkles where you kept trying to grab it out of his hands. it was already a vulnerable enough occasion talking about this with you; he did not need you seeing his notes on top of it.

TALKING POINTS FOR BREAKING UP WITH EVIL GF i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because someone sent me proof! — cannot say this without exposing that y/n knows about siwoo!!! i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because i went through your phone and saw your text messages! — better, but am i willing to look crazy just to cover for y/n?  yes  what am i saying NO  this will do ✓ how could you do this to us? i loved you! — seems disingenuous? note: yell at jeonghan and y/n for putting ideas in my head later! i literally gave you everything you could’ve wanted, and that still wasn’t enough? what does any other man have that i don’t? — ok met with y/n for feedback. says this sounds pathetic and that i can't let her think this affected me. but she cheated on me? this LITERALLY affects me. i will come back to this one  ok y/n made a different, better point: i am perfect •ᴗ• and i shouldn’t present myself as lacking. so true. she's very good at this! •ᴗ• do you really think anyone with half a fucking brain cell who's willing to homewreck a relationship is really going to give enough of a fuck about you to be capable of putting up with your insufferable ass and treating you as well as i did? — y/n suggested. had to workshop bc she's alarmingly vulgar. plus, maybe toxic to say i "put up" with mina ?? not sure do you even regret hurting me? — y/n says this is silly bc siwoo and mina obviously do not regret anything, but i want mina to feel guilty. y/n now agrees and says i should add: "or are you just so heartless you don't care?" she said this more colorfully, but i will remain respectful  why should i remain respectful? mina is literally the most disrespectful person i’ve ever met. i’ll say what y/n suggested ⤵ your commitment to being a heartless asshole has you by your ugly ass neck and i hope it starts squeezing with both hands  GET SOME HELP! — more for catharsis. won’t be yelling this at her you're going to regret this and if you think there's a world where i take you back when you do, you're mistaken — wow, no notes from y/n! must be very good •ᴗ• definitely say this one!! please never contact me again — note from y/n: "why are you being so goddamn polite? tell her to fuck off and if you ever see her number on your phone screen, you'll set up an appointment on her behalf to get a lobotomy." ????? note from ME: have a serious discussion with y/n at a later time about why i, a MAN, can't just talk to WOMEN like this!

despite the circumstances that led to having to make the list at all, joshua can't help but grin at it. the time spent with you at the cafe was not only helpful; it was fun. maybe the most fun he’s had with a woman since he started dating mina, who chased off all his female friends within the first two months of being in his life. joshua winces as he pockets the list, wondering how he didn’t see the red flags. 

his thoughts are interrupted with the loud and obnoxious ping of the elevator as it arrives on mina’s floor. the doors slide open, and immediately, he hears the obscene sounds of a woman moaning down the hall. his eyes widen as he steps out and turns down the hall in the direction of mina’s apartment. 

the walls of her place were always thin; they were constantly getting into wars with the neighbors that involved banging on the floor, ceiling, and shared walls with her broom. still, he had never heard this kind of noise from her neighbors. 

“tell me about it.”

joshua looks to his right to find an older woman stepping out of her apartment and locking her door. he must have a look of shock on his face because she snorts and nods in what seems like solidarity as she tucks her empty reusable bags into her armpit. 

“that girl doesn’t seem to ever stop,” she informs him. “i’ve complained to the building manager so many times, and still, here she is, screaming like a little banshee and disrupting this entire floor’s peace.”

joshua feels his skin break out into a cold sweat as his mind starts to go a mile a minute. “huh… interesting…”

“i mean,” the woman turns to step into the elevator joshua just walked out of. “what is she even doing? auditioning for a god damn porn? she sounds like my fucking shih tzu’s squeaky toy!” 

he forces a laugh, too distracted to even feel uncomfortable over the inappropriate joke. “maybe,” he mutters. “she sure is putting on a performance.”

“oh my god!” the voice shrieks in perfect timing, making him flinch. 

“ugh, inconsiderate! all hours of the day! does she even work?!” the woman shakes her head and clicks her tongue in disapproval as she presses a button and the doors close. 

joshua stands there for a moment, staring at the elevator, unable to move as he listens to the noises of what could possibly be his girlfriend having sex with siwoo right now. it didn’t even sound remotely like her, and that fact terrifies him even more because if it is her, then she had to be faking it with someone. was she faking it with joshua or with siwoo?

he groans, letting his head fall into his hands. 

“who cares?” he grumbles to himself. the last thing he should be worrying about is whether or not an adulterous liar like mina thought he was good in bed. he should definitely not care anymore. “i don’t care.”

joshua can practically hear jeonghan’s voice telling him, sure you don’t. he shakes his head, trying to banish his jeonghan-shaped conscience from his brain.  

he doesn’t even know if it’s mina. it could very well be some other female neighbor; it’s not far-fetched for people to be having sex. he could just be paranoid right now since he knows she’s cheating on him. 

each floor of mina’s apartment is huge—a maze, really. dozens of units, at least ten near the elevator, several people who could be having sex. 

he always counted himself lucky that mina lived so close to the elevator, just down the hall a few units down. today, though, as the wailing reverberates off the walls of the hallway leading to the elevator, he thinks mina’s floor plan is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

his phone is to his ear before he can fully consider what he’s doing. 

“did you do it?” you seem to dislike greeting people on the phone properly like a normal human being. you speak a little louder than usual, your surroundings lively and buzzing with the noise of what sounds like several conversations. “that was fast.”

“uh,” joshua elongates the sound for a few seconds while his brain tries to tune out the “porn audition” long enough to comprehend your question. “no… nope. i haven’t done it yet.”

“oh. then what’s up? you need backup after all?” you ask too seriously for him to confidently say you’re joking. 

before you both parted ways at the cafe, you offered him company and said you could tag along and jump mina for him. you both laughed and said your goodbyes, but if what joshua fears right now is true, he definitely doesn’t hate the idea of you jumping her. 

“i’m a little busy—well, kinda, not really—but i can fake some kind of horrific emergency and get out of here and over to you in…” you trail off, probably checking the time. “twenty minutes… maybe ten if i’m okay with breaking a few laws. which, rest assured, i am!”

he feels the dread over his predicament slipping as you keep talking, his emotions turning into an incredibly confusing mix of panic, amusement, anxiety, relief, and so on and so on. the number of odd emotions you elicit out of him are countless. 

joshua glides over what he assumes is a joke and straight to the point; the faster he finds out what he needs to, the faster he can hopefully escape this building.

“do you know where siwoo is?” he asks, taking the first few tentative steps to mina’s door. he walks painstakingly slowly, almost tiptoeing even though there’s no possible way anyone could hear him over the lewd moans. 

“he’s at dinner with his vile parents,” you say, sighing like you’d rather talk about anything else. 

“are you sure?”

“yes… why?”

“like… how sure?” joshua presses. 

“uh, 100 percent.” he can picture the frown on your face that usually matches this tone of yours—confused bordering on annoyed. “i’m literally staring at him as his awful monster of a mother tucks a napkin into his collar like a little fucking devil baby, bro.” 

joshua doesn’t know how at a time like this, his brain has the capacity to still take note of how much he loathes when you call him bro. it’s a weird thought to have to process alongside the thousands of other things he’s suddenly feeling.

“i’m at the bar of this pretentious ass restaurant waiting on the bartender to finish their drink orders while they eat all the appetizers without me, like a good, little stay-at-home girlfriend slash maid slash server slash revenge connoisseur!” you inform him, your voice sarcastically cheerful. “i’m going to spit in all their drinks.” that bit comes out in your normal, low—and a little irritated—voice.

“wow” is all he says because his brain doesn’t supply him with anything else.

“like i said, revenge connoisseur,” you say, sounding bored. “so yes, i’m 100 percent sure he’s here. we have to have dinner with these assholes once a week but—” you cut yourself off as you address someone else. “ah, thank you! oh wait, can you actually remove the espresso beans from this one? the abominable woman who gave birth to my boyfriend doesn’t want to have too much caffeine this late in the day.”

joshua realizes his brain has the capacity to do a lot of things in stressful situations as long as he’s talking to you. because he stops walking and immediately starts laughing when he hears the bartender deadpan: “it’s an espresso martini.”

you sigh like you’ve had to explain this a million different times to a million different bartenders. 

“joshua? hold on, okay?” you tell him before immediately addressing the bartender without waiting for him to reply. “listen, i get it. you don’t have to tell me. i know! she’s a ridiculous airhead who gets her life force from making little people like me suffer and ask for embarrassing things on her behalf. i don’t even care if you stick your bare fingers in there to pluck them out—in fact, i actually kind of prefer you do that. i just need them gone before she comes poking her snobby, little nose over here and demands you make her an entirely brand new one.”

that seems to do the job because the next thing you say is: 

“thank you so much. and please give yourself a 50 percent tip—100 even!” you shout the last part as, joshua assumes, the bartender walks away. “it’s on their card, go crazy!” 

the bartender says something that he can’t make out and you laugh. the sound of it—so light and mischievous and charismatic—completely severs the already increasingly weakened grip his panic has on him. he feels like he can breathe a little easier, even among the horrible sounds filling the hallway. 

“okay, i’m back, sorry,” you say into the phone, picking up exactly where you left off as if you never stopped talking. “like i was saying, we do this shit every week, so i can definitely get out of this if you need me to. why are you asking about siwoo anyway?” 

there’s something comforting about the way you’re ready to drop everything to get to joshua even though you just said bye less than an hour ago and you don’t even know why he’s calling. though, he does realize your eagerness is also probably due to the fact that you just don’t want to be around your cheating boyfriend and his family.

joshua exhales slowly through his nose. “well, it’s not quite your 100, but i am like, at least… 70 percent sure that mina is having sex with someone in her apartment as we speak. i thought it was siwoo, but…” he lets you come to your own conclusions.

the silence on the other end of the phone is so much more threatening than the gasping and yelling he expected. it stretches for so long that at some point, joshua wonders if you even heard him. 

“did you—”

“i heard you,” you say, your voice clipped. you pause again for a shorter period and when you speak, you sound a lot less short. “i was trying to ignore it because i couldn’t imagine what the hell it was, but you definitely sound like you’re on the set of a porno.”

joshua grimaces, stepping away from the side of the hallway that mina’s apartment is on as if that will help—it doesn’t, not with the way it echoes off the walls. he cups his hand around the mouthpiece of his phone, hoping that it will keep the shih tzu squeaky toy sound effects from traveling to you. “shit, i’m sorry,” he breathes, scurrying down the hallway and several units past mina’s apartment in a desperate attempt to get away from the moaning. “i didn’t realize you could hear it clearly.”

“are you running away from the noise, joshua hong?” you ask, obviously amused.

“um, maybe.”

“wow, what a gentleman, protecting my innocence like this,” you fake-sigh like you’re swooning on the other end of the line and he blushes furiously. he can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “chivalry is not dead.”

“you’re so insufferable!” he whisper-yells at you. the poor residents of this floor already have to deal with ‘round-the-clock sex; they don’t need to add him being obnoxiously loud on the phone too. “i’m having a horrible time right now, and you’re joking around?!”

you giggle. “okay, fine. i’m insufferable. but at least i made you smile.”

“and how on earth could you possibly know that if you can’t even see me?”

you snort. “please. i can hear it in your voice. your smile transcends all obstacles, hong. you could smile on the other side of the world and i’d know it.”

the claim makes joshua’s hands clammy, and he finds he has no idea what to say to that. he can barely breathe, but this time, it feels a little different—not quite so wrought with anxiety like it was when he first exited the elevator.

sensing you may have gone overboard with your compliment this time, you clear your throat and steer the conversation back on track.

“mina is a real piece of work,” you state the obvious before rambling a little. “cheating on you… cheating on siwoo… though, is that called cheating if siwoo is also her sidepiece…? no, right? she’s just cheating on you twice—fuck, sorry, that was so callous and dumb to say.” he hears something that sounds like you hitting your forehead repeatedly. 

“yeah… i don’t know…” his mind is not on the logistics of the cheating.

“okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” you say, voice kicking into high-gear. “i’ve been gone from the table for almost… 10 minutes; these rats get impatient after, like, two.”

joshua leans against the wall, finding your little plotting voice weirdly comforting.

“siwoo is going to stand up any moment now to see what’s taking so long at the insistence of his egg donor.”

he closes his eyes and tries to calm his heartbeat, smiling a little at your refusal to call siwoo’s mom anything but his mom. 

“and when he does, i’m—oh my god, i’m amazing.”

joshua opens his eyes and frowns. “what?”

you laugh in disbelief before frantically whispering, “siwoo just got up and is walking over here. he is so predictable. also, i just got the ick so bad. this idiot forgot to take his little napkin bib off. okay, he’s almost here. don’t reply to anything i say, alright?”

“al—”

“oh my god, are you serious?!” you shriek at joshua. he immediately brings his phone away from his ear. “are you okay?” you pause like you’re listening to a nonexistent response. “holy shit, girl—” your next words are an exaggerated whisper. “—it’s soph, she’s on a date, having… explosive diarrhea!”

joshua looks at his phone incredulously. he doesn’t know how you manage to sound so convincing when it’s clear to him everything you say comes to mind the very second before you say it. 

“that’s disgusting.” his eyes involuntarily narrow at what can only be siwoo’s voice. he sounds just as dumb as joshua thought he would.

“i have to go!” you exclaim. 

“what?! why?”

“did you hear me?! soph is having a crisis! what am i supposed to do, just leave her in the bathroom of some dingy sushi restaurant covered in her own shit while her date thinks she snuck out on her?!” she speaks back into the phone. “hold on, girl.”

he snorts as he passes a hand over his face in embarrassment even though he’s completely alone. he’s truly amazed at how committed you are to your act. he would’ve cracked before he ever even got to utter the word “diarrhea.”

“uh, yes? we’re at dinner with my parents and that sounds like a really gross her problem.”

joshua rolls his eyes. siwoo is an asshole through and through. 

you pause and he likes to imagine you’re taking a moment to really process what a fucking dick your boyfriend is. “i’ll be quick, baby,” you say through barely concealed annoyance. his eye twitches at the term of endearment anyway. “tell your parents i said sorry! i’ll text you when i’m on my way home! soph, i’m on my way!”

“y/n!” his voice is further away than he previously sounded. “what about our drinks?!”

“ask the bartender!” you practically bellow at him. “fucking incompetent. ‘what about our drinks?’” your impression of siwoo is simply an exaggerated baby voice, and joshua thinks it sounds exactly the same. “what the fuck kind of question? where else would you get your drinks?” you mutter—to yourself, joshua presumes. “okay, shua, i am free and i am on my way!”

he doesn’t even have the opportunity to be surprised about you coming to mina’s apartment; he’s too caught off-guard by the sudden nickname. 

“hello?” you call, suddenly sounding like you’re, at the very least, brisk-walking if not fully running. “you can talk now! i am not in the restaurant anym—oop, excuse me, sorry!”

“shua?” joshua repeats mindlessly.

“aw, don’t like it? we can workshop that too,” you huff, excusing yourself as you navigate whatever street you’re on. “i think it’s cute, though. no? shua... shua!” 

you repeat it a few more times like that will get him to agree. most of the instances of “shua” are breathed out in a quick exhale as you move, and joshua is almost completely convinced you’re running. 

“okay, i’m kind of losing the meaning of ‘shua’ now. i swear it’s cute, though.”

he smiles. “uh, yeah, it’s… cute. different but cute.”

“right? josh is tired,” you claim. “shua feels more fitting for you. anyway, give me… 12 minutes and i will be there.”

“why are you coming here again?’ he asks, remembering to feel confused about your plans. 

“for moral support, hello?” you answer like it’s obvious. “ah! sorry!” you shout at someone who curses. “you have me now, dude.” dude is better than bro, he supposes. “we don’t have to go through these traumatic events alone anymore! i’ll be there and if you want me to blow my cover and this entire plan so i can slap mina across the face, i will!”

his mouth twitches to keep from smirking. the thought is tempting. “you really don’t have to—”

“shut up, i just told siwoo my best friend is having explosive diarrhea for you,” you point out, practically panting now. “we cannot walk this back! now go break up with that horrid bitch, and if she really is fucking someone in there, you tell me and i’ll march up there and win my very first fistfight… uh, what floor is her apartment, by the way?”

joshua shakes his head, trying his hardest not to grin. “no, you stay downstairs. there will be no fistfights tonight. i’ll see you in a bit.”

“got it, boss.”

“and stop running,” he orders. “you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“mmm, agree to disagree,” you heave. “see you soon!” you hang up in a hurry, giving him no time to say bye. 

as he stands in the hallway, he realizes that in the time he spent with you on the phone, the moans subsided. between the absence of your mayhem and the vulgarity of maybe-mina’s maybe-cheating, it’s almost eerie how suddenly quiet the floor is. 

he drags his feet as he makes his way back to mina’s door. when he gets there, he tentatively presses an ear to the wood, and when he can’t hear anything, he raises his fist and knocks before he can change his mind. several seconds pass and he doesn’t hear anyone coming to the door or even speaking. his discomfort eases a little as he starts to think maybe she’s not even home.

mina isn’t one to deviate from her plans; she gets irritable when she has to, so joshua knows that pilates definitely had to be on the agenda today. and if she’s not home yet, then she should be arriving any moment now. he punches in the code for her apartment, determined to wait it out and get this over with because he has no plans to spend another day tied down to a cheater.

“mina?” he calls out as soon as he steps in. he almost bends down to take his shoes off, thinks twice about it, and leaves them on. what did you call it again? taking your small joys wherever you can. tracking dirt into mina’s apartment felt like a small joy right now. 

with no response, he heads into the kitchen to grab himself a water bottle before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. he’s about to take his notes out again when he hears a door click. he frowns. 

“hello?” mina’s voice tentatively calls out from the hallway. 

“it’s me,” joshua says, leaving his notes where they are in his pocket. “i knocked but i guess you didn’t hear.”

“josh?” mina rounds the corner, in her bathrobe. she smiles brightly when she confirms it’s him. “hey, baby. what are you doing here?”

she walks up to him with the ease of a loyal girlfriend. he’s astounded by it, actually; how she can act so sweet and kind and cute when she’s sleeping with siwoo every chance she gets. if he thinks about it too hard, it actually scares him. 

she loops her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, hooking her chin on his shoulder. he tenses and immediately slips off the stool and out of her grip. 

“i wanted to talk to you, remember?” he says, stepping away when she tries to reach for him again. she frowns like she’s finally understanding there’s a problem. “yesterday. but you said you were busy.” busy fucking siwoo. 

even with a direct reference to her infidelity, mina doesn’t bat an eye. he thinks she could probably thrive in a career in acting. “yeah, i had to clock some overtime yesterday,” she lies. “it was such a drag,” she complains as she gets her own water bottle from the fridge. “i paid for my pilates class and everything and had to pay the fee for missing it.”

the lies roll of her tongue so effortlessly, joshua knows he would’ve easily believed them if he didn’t have cold, hard proof. even with the cold, hard proof, he wonders if there’s any way you could have still gotten it wrong. he knows you didn’t. maybe he is gullible because after two days, he already trusts you more than he does mina. 

“pilates,” he repeats in a daze. 

she raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip. she caps her bottle again and nods slowly. “yes, baby, pilates… is everything okay?”

“mina, have you ever cheated on me?”

joshua sees it then—the crack in her facade. her eyes widen, not with surprise or disbelief the way an innocent person’s probably would, but fear. to her credit, it passes quickly as she schools her expression into one of bewilderment. if joshua hadn’t known to look for it, he knows he would have missed it. he would have missed it along with all the other red flags he’s missed. 

“why are you asking me that?” she asks, her voice sharp with the vexation of someone who’s been offended. joshua doesn’t let it faze him.

he shrugs, clenching his jaw briefly before speaking again. “just answer the question, mina.”

mina seems to realize joshua isn’t in the mood for games because her shoulders deflate the tiniest bit, her eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other as she tries to think of what to say. he knows it’s because in the year they’ve been together, joshua has never—not once—lost his temper or expressed any kind of annoyance with her.

it’s always “joshua is so sweet,” “joshua is such a gentleman,” “joshua is so kind,” “joshua is so mild mannered,” “joshua is so fucking gullible.”

joshua is done.

“mina.”

he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out sharp and raised the way it does, but when she flinches, he realizes his patience is slipping faster than jeonghan could ever dream of making it.

“wh—?” she squeezes her eyes shut like she’s trying to understand how they got here. “what?” she suddenly shrieks, eyes opening wide with disbelief and what he’s sure she thinks is translating as devastation. “what are you even saying, joshua?!”

the sheer amount of willpower it takes to keep from rolling his eyes is staggering. “it should be an easy question to answer,” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly. “so i think the fact that you refuse to is an answer in itself.”

he sets his bottle on the counter and moves to step around her so he can leave and just let it be over with—going out, not with a bang, but with a pathetic little sigh—but she steps the same direction, palms out like she’ll shove him if he gets any closer to the door.

“what the fuck are you on right now?” she asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into an ugly, displeased sneer like a switch just flipped.

joshua feels the hair on the back of his neck stand as he frowns down at her. she doesn’t try to wrestle her face into playing along with her placating, innocent girl act. instead, she wears her scowl proudly, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance as she blocks his way from his emergency exit. 

“you’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re asking me that,” she states.

he finds her rage as discomforting as yours but in wildly different ways. your anger makes him freeze up and almost panic; it renders him unable to speak or even think, and he’s still not even sure why. but mina’s makes him physically cringe away. it… annoys him.

just like she wasn’t used to his impatience, he wasn’t used to her being angry—at least not at him. all mina’s ever been angry about have been baristas who used 2% instead of fat free milk in her lattes (and yes, she insists she can tell), long wait times, and her boss demanding she work overtime. though joshua realizes that was probably just an excuse to see siwoo.

“mina, why are you doing this?” he asks, exasperated.

“why am i doing this?!” she repeats, scoffing so obnoxiously hard in his face, spit lands on his cheek. 

he closes his eyes for a brief moment as he wipes it away, willing his patience to hold out long enough to get him out of this building.

“why are you doing this?! why are you as—”

“because i know!” he shouts over her increasingly high-pitched whining. “i’m asking because i know all about how awful you’ve been, mina! and i wanted to see if after a year together, you’d at least have the decency to be honest with me!” 

mina’s attitude drops, her hands immediately combing through her hair frantically, a nervous tic she always had.

“i know you were faking business trips, i know you were sleeping around, i know you were fucking him last night when i told you i needed to talk to you—when your boyfriend of a year wanted to see you!”

she stares at him helplessly, mouth hung open and her eyes quickly filling with tears. he realizes as he stares back, feeling nothing but resentment and disdain for her, that your wildly fluctuating emotions unnerve him because he wants to find a way to get you back to your baseline, if not all the way to the other end to happy.

as he watches mina begin to weep, he feels none of that. for the first time in his life, joshua yearns to be cruel. he wants to make her cry harder, and it makes him resent her even more—for making him think and feel something so reprehensible.

he suddenly sees why you’re so open to letting your fury flow through every part of you before unapologetically releasing it right out into the world the way you do. after a lifetime of insisting on being the calm one, the collected one, the unbothered one, the unfeeling one, he realizes that being angry like this is addicting—freeing.

“baby, i…”

“don’t, mina, i’m not your fucking baby,” he says. even he can hear how tired he sounds. 

“i’m so sorry,” she whispers, voice cracking. “i am, i really am. i don’t know why i did it. i—i don’t know—i’m so—i…”

“save it,” he puts her out of her misery of trying to find the right words to manipulate him into thinking she’s anything other than the deceitful cheater she is. “i know you don’t regret hurting me like this. i—”

“no, i do!” she wails, throwing herself at him now.

he immediately starts untangling himself from her hold but she makes it impossible, her grabby hands all over him as she tries to get him to stop attempting to escape her.

“mina, let go o—”

“i regret it, joshua, i swear to god i regret it!” she weeps so loudly now, he starts to feel dread gathering in the pit of his stomach the way it did when he broke up with miyoung. “i never wanted to hurt you, i love you!”

“holy shit,” he grumbles, shoving her hands off him and stepping away from her even though it meant being farther from the only exit. “how can you even say that to my face right now?”

“it’s true!” she screams, grating his nerves. “i love you! i want to spend the rest of my life with you! it was all a mistake! minhyuk was just a temptation i gave into at a weak moment, and i swear it didn’t mean—”

“who the hell is minhyuk?” he asks, frowning when her words finally catch up to him.

mina freezes, and it’s like her tears get the memo because they stop too. it’s the only reason joshua knows that no matter how convincing, this was also just an act.

he glares now.

“who. is. minhyuk. mina?” he staggers his words like it’ll help her few remaining brain cells unite long enough to understand and answer his question.

“i… what do you mean? you said… you said you knew that i… you said—”

“i know about siwoo,” he clarifies, his temper at its breaking point. he’s a moment away from calling you to come up here and make sure he doesn’t land himself in jail, wrecking mina’s entire apartment in an attempt to claw his way out of it. “who the fuck is minhyuk?”

joshua doesn’t think he’s ever cussed this much in his life.

“i—”

“who the fuck is siwoo?” 

joshua’s head whips around toward the voice, coming from the hallway that leads to mina’s room. the laugh that immediately escapes his mouth is instinctive and hysterical. he doesn’t know any other way to react than to start laughing; if he doesn’t, he’s positive he’ll somehow spontaneously combust. 

because standing in mina’s hallway is one of the many reasons her neighbors despise her. a very half naked reason, dressed only in boxers.

“are you for fucking real?” mina hisses, shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as if joshua isn’t even in the room. “i told you to wait in the room and be fucking quiet, you moron. are you—”

“who is siwoo?!” the man shouts now.

joshua’s laughs peter out, and with them goes his anger. he sighs, shaking his head and remembering how drained he feels. 

“i take it you’re minhyuk.” the man glares at him but doesn’t respond, so he nods. “well, mina, i guess you were truthful about one thing: you really were busy last night, weren’t you?”

“how did you even know siwoo stopped by here?!” she yells. joshua hopes building management kicks her out after the noise complaints she’s bound to get from today alone.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking cheating on me!” minhyuk disappears back into mina’s room, shouting nonsense as he gathers his things. 

“you’re definitely not the one who was cheated on!” joshua calls after him, rolling his eyes. he turns back to mina, mustering up the very last of his energy to finally end it. “mina. you’re disgusting. i will move on from this remembering you as nothing other than a nasty stain on my otherwise amazing life.”

a squeak of protest erupts from her mouth, but he doesn’t let her get a word in.

“but you... you’ll continue to do whatever sleazy shit you’ve been up to for who knows how long, and one day, you’ll wake up and realize how empty and tragic and ugly you and your life both are—” she has the audacity to look offended at the word ugly. “—and you won’t be able to do anything to change that because no one worth having around will have cared enough to stick by you.”

her tears start again and this time, they feel real—they don’t come with screaming or begging or lying. they steadily stream down her face and it makes joshua feel like he’s high.

“your commitment to being a selfish asshole really has you by the neck and i pray to god it starts squeezing with both hands,” he says, delivering your line with a tight-lipped smile.

he finally steps around her, making his way to the door. he opens it and just before he leaves, he thinks, what the hell? and turns back.

“mina,” he calls softly. she turns back to him, face red and splotchy. “don’t contact me. if i ever see your phone number on my screen, i’ll personally call every single cafe on this fucking continent and make sure they only serve you whole fat milk for the rest of your life.”

she gasps like he just made a legitimate threat, and he gets the immature and overwhelming urge to ridicule and laugh at her.

“oh, and get some fucking help,” he adds before turning away and leaving without waiting for her reaction.

fortunately, he gets the elevator immediately. 

unfortunately, none other than minhyuk comes barreling in before the doors close. he has the sense to at least look ashamed, throwing joshua a pitiful smile, but it isn’t enough, so he steps forward and presses a finger to the button that keeps the doors open.

he doesn’t say anything, blankly staring at the man who apparently had sex with his girlfriend either before or after siwoo did last night. minhyuk gets the clue and sighs.

“bro, we’re on the 13th floor,” he protests.

he still doesn’t respond. finally, when several seconds of minhyuk fidgeting have passed, the man groans dramatically—not unlike mina herself—and he stomps out of the elevator and toward the stairwell.

joshua smiles to himself, releasing the button and letting the elevator doors close and take him down to the lobby—down to you.

when joshua exits mina’s building, you’re waiting exactly where you had accosted the two of them the night before, sweaty and disheveled from your run over, but somehow still looking so incredibly pretty. 

you take one look at his face and know exactly how the entire conversation went down without even having to ask. then, an interesting thing happens: you do something joshua thinks is akin to exploding, and he has to hold you back from storming the building. you don’t even know where mina lives, but he knows if he lets you go, you’ll knock on every single door of all 25 floors until you find her and sock her in the face. 

and even as he tries to calm you down now, something warms his heart knowing you care enough to do something as ridiculous as that.

“you’re causing a scene,” he grunts, stepping in your way again when you try to dodge him.

“if you think this is a scene, you’re gonna hate what i’m about to cause on whatever goddamn floor that bitch lives on!” you inform him. 

“i’m not telling you and the front desk won’t either. he’d probably call security on you before you even get to the elevators.”

“i don’t care! i’ll punch the man at the front desk too! my fists are rated E for everyone!” you shriek wildly, darting back and forth as you try to get around him. against his will, an amused snort escapes him.

when it’s clear to you that joshua’s height and long legs are going to make it impossible for you to fake him out, you give up on going around and decide to go through.

joshua shouts in surprise when you barrel right into him, opting for pushing him backwards to get a few steps forward. he catches on quickly and digs his heels in, gripping your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length.

“she’s not worth this time or energy,” he tells you. 

“oh, i disagree, i think she’s worth a lot of my time and energy!” you refute. “i think she’s worth as much of my time and energy as it takes for me to rock her shit!”

you groan as you struggle against his hold, and he almost laughs at how hard you seem to be trying because it’s relatively easy to keep you where you are. you shrug his hands off and slap him away, charging forward again, but before you can, he plants his palm on your forehead, stopping you in your tracks.

“yah! joshua hong!” you shove his arm away from your forehead, and he can’t help when the laughs finally break free. “how are you laughing right now? i could kill her!”

he shrugs, his laughter suddenly snowballing until his hands are on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. 

he can’t do anything other than laugh. he has to laugh at the year he’s wasted with mina, or he’ll drive himself crazy asking himself what’s wrong with him that his taste led him so astray (something to unpack when he inevitably returns to his therapist). he has to laugh at the memory of walking in while minhyuk was still there or he’ll fixate on the fact that he has no idea how many men mina’s cheated on him with—and the fact that he needs to go get tested for STDs immediately. there is no other option but to laugh because he has no idea how someone’s life can change this fast because of an instagram DM.

when he finally stops, he sighs, straightening up to find you looking at him with a blank expression.

“oh, you’re so not okay,” you mutter.

“i’m fine,” he insists, shaking his head. he rests his hands back on your shoulders, this time gently, and he nods once. “this has just been the most ridiculous 24 hours of my life, and i’m tired and i’m starving. can we please escape this hellhole and eat? i’ll even pay.”

your eyes narrow at that, studying his face like you’re trying to see if he’s lying to you about being okay. he isn’t—at least he doesn’t think he is—but he also doesn’t think you’d be able to tell if he were anyway.

“i know a ramen spot near here?” you offer hesitantly.

it irks him that you not only have a go-to fried chicken spot in the area but a ramen spot too, and only because you’ve followed siwoo here enough times to have favorites. he thinks you deserve to find favorites in more meaningful ways.

he doesn’t say that, though, of course. instead, joshua looks you up and down before he scans himself, pointedly staring at how sweaty the two of you are in this sticky summer heat. 

“ramen is good for the soul,” you say, reading his mind. “the best comfort food. plus, you’ll sweat out all your heartache.”

“i have no heartache to sweat out.”

“right,” you agree, nodding easily and in a way that makes him question if you’re being sarcastic or not. “maybe we should invite jeonghan.”

he tilts his head. he’s not opposed because he needs to fill his best friend in, but he’s also not enjoying you being the one to suggest it. “why…?”

you shrug. “my offers to dole out violence on your behalf can only go so far. your best friend will probably be better equipped to handle… whatever that was that just happened right now.”

he snickers and rolls his eyes. “okay, i’ll text him.”

“no need, i already did!” you say as you loop your arm through his and begin to pull him away from the building. 

he scoffs, a little too aware of the scowl that erupts on his face. “how do you have jeonghan’s number?”

you look up at him and snort. “we all exchanged information last night, remember?”

no, you and joshua exchanged information last night after he insisted on it so he knew when you got home safe. his eye twitches when he thinks about jeonghan sneaking you his number too—and maybe even texting or calling you as much as he was today.

“he’s waiting for us at the ramen shop.”

he clenches his jaw before forcing a smile. “you really are such a well-prepared individual, aren’t you.”

“gotta be if i’m going to ruin siwoo and mina’s lives.”

“mina? i thought—”

“oh baby,” you say it with fake pity like he’s actually a child, but he finds he likes it a hell of a lot more than dude. infinitely more than bro. “she doesn’t get a pass anymore. that ship sailed when she decided to do my shua like that.” oh, he likes that one a lot. “she’s officially back in the plan.”

joshua grins genuinely now, nodding without arguing. even if he didn’t want you to wrap your metaphorical revenge hands around mina’s ugly neck and shake violently (he does), he knows arguing with you is futile.

“okay.” he feels the exhaustion from earlier slowly leave his body, already feeling lighter as he walks with you, arms looped together like you’ve been best friends for years. “let’s ruin some lives then.”

you look up at him and squeeze his arm, jumping a little as you squeal, “let’s!”

“bye, y/n.”

joshua tries not to glare as jeonghan pulls you into a hug, one arm snaking around your waist as he grins over your shoulder at him. he flashes his eyebrows at him and all his efforts go to waste. he gives him the nastiest glower he can. his best friend’s smirk just widens. 

he doesn’t know what’s going on—with jeonghan, with you, with the both of you, with himself. for the first 40 minutes sitting in the restaurant, joshua retold the hellish afternoon he experienced and took all of his best friend’s many i-told-you-so, what-a-bitch, and i-knew-she-was-a-snake comments with grace. but as soon as that was over, jeonghan flipped a switch.

all night, the man has been acting so weird with you, laughing too hard at everything you say, touching you any chance he gets, saying things just because he knows you’ll agree. and all night, for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on, it’s been driving joshua up the wall. it’s probably because you’re literally still in a relationship. his best friend could at least wait until you’re properly single before he starts doing whatever jeonghan-styled mating call this is.

nope. that’s not it. that thought drives him even further up this insufferable, metaphorical wall.

“later,” you say as you step back. “don’t forget to send me that brand of hair remover you were looking at.” you turn over your shoulder and joshua immediately drops his glare and smiles. if you saw the look he was giving jeonghan, you don’t show it. instead, you wink at him. “we’re going to need that for mina’s shampoo now, huh, shua?”

“shua,” jeonghan repeats, obviously delighted, eyebrows rising and grin quickly entering shit-eating levels. “cute!”

you turn back to him excitedly. “right?! i think so too!”

“you’re such a genius, y/n,” he says, sounding nauseatingly lovesick. joshua silently scoffs at him behind your back. he should know better, though, because that just eggs him on. “i’ll text you the link as soon as i get home. or—” he meets his eyes again. “—i’ll just call you!”

“sure, whatever,” you shrug, as indifferent as ever. it makes joshua happy. maybe a direct rejection would make him even happier, though. “get home safe!”

“yeah, get home safe,” joshua echoes as jeonghan steps around you to hug him as well. “don’t fall into a manhole or get run over by a massive truck or anything,” he mutters too quietly for anyone else but him to hear. 

“i love you too, man,” jeonghan laughs, rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulder as he steps away. “call me if you need to drink your sorrows away. see you two!”

he finally walks off toward his car as you step up to joshua’s side, looping your arm through his again. his heart immediately slows, recovering from the irritation of dealing with a menace.

“jeonghan knows i have zero interest in dating him, right?”

joshua can’t help the bark of laughter that all but rips its way out of him.

“no, like,” you laugh a little, “he comes on so strong? i don’t think i’ve ever met someone as bold as he is.”

that’s ironic, seeing as joshua has never met anyone as bold as you.

“i don’t know if he knows that,” he says honestly. “but either way, he wouldn’t make a move until you were single.”

he gets brief flashes of jeonghan’s fingers brushing up against yours, jeonghan delivering wings onto your plate, jeonghan hugging you a beat too long, jeonghan existing around you. 

“i think,” he adds, frowning.

you make a sound of disbelief as you both watch jeonghan pull out of his spot and drive away. you both stay rooted to the spot, watching nothing in particular.

 “i am single. for all intents and purposes, i am absolutely single.”

joshua is alarmed at how horrible the chill that runs up his spine feels—like an omen of how unbearable his life will become if two crazy people like you and jeonghan join forces to become one.

“i just happen to be a single woman pretending to still love her ex so she can obliterate his entire existence from the inside out.”

“right,” he says, nodding. “of course. i just mean that… i—uh… i have no idea what i mean. but i’ll tell jeonghan to fuck off.”

you whistle, laughing after you do. “i think that’s the first time i heard you cuss,” you inform him. “my shua cussing…” 

you don’t finish your thought because you giggle, and he thinks the sound triggers his fight or flight. he lets you laugh and when it fades, you shake your head.

“don’t tell jeonghan to fuck off,” you tell him. “it’s fun. flattering.”

“flattering?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

you shrug. “i’ve been with that idiot, siwoo, for two years. i guess it’s nice to know that someone thinks i’m cute enough to flirt with. at least i know i’m still an eligible bachelorette.”

joshua huffs out a laugh of disbelief. “are you serious?”

you yank your arm out of his, startling him. “what?! you don’t think i’m cute enough to flirt with?!” you ask, half offended but obviously thoroughly amused.

“quite the opposite, actually,” he says before he can convince himself not to. he’s about to start sputtering about how he means it in the most platonic and objective way possible, but since you’re you, he doesn’t need to.

“good, that’s what i thought,” you say, grinning and weaving your arm through the ditch of his elbow again. “i’m very cute.”

joshua is glad you’re so comfortable to be around. he knows if he agreed with you now, you’d happily accept the compliment, but if the roles were reversed, he would be flustered for the next week. 

you two enjoy a comfortable silence before he sighs contentedly and looks down at you to ask if you’re ready to leave. he forgets what he’s about to say when he meets your eyes, though.

you’re already looking up at him and smiling softly. “did you like the ramen? do you feel better?” you ask, tilting your head.

he thinks you would look nice resting it against his shoulder. “i feel much better,” he confirms. “thanks again—for coming so fast and so last minute without me even asking you to.” he pauses to think, frowning when he confronts how ride-or-die you’ve been for him today. “and even before that. thanks for workshopping all those horrible lines with me.”

you grin. “don’t mention it, dude.” he’s too content right now to make a face at that. at least it’s not bro. “it was a lot of fun, actually.”

“i still don’t think i have any heartache to sweat out into any other bowls of ramen—” you snicker. “—but it’s nice to know i have two people to cry to if i ever do.”

you nod enthusiastically. “exactly! you have jeonghan, and you have me now.”

he hums, feeling an intense desire to say you have him too—because you do, and you unfortunately already have jeonghan as well—but he stops himself. he’s only known you one day, and he’s just not as courageous as you are with your words. 

“it’s nice,” you mutter, “to have people to go through these things with.”

joshua doesn’t voice his curiosity about your own friendships. were there no other people you were able to expect this kind of support from? where was this soph you used to excuse yourself from dinner? any other friends? family? 

he lets his curiosity simmer. you’ve already subjected each other to incredibly intimate parts of your life; the rest can come another day.

“hopefully, it’s the first and last time we go through this,” he remarks, chuckling.

“one can hope,” you agree. “and the ramen?” you prod. “was it good?”

“i loved it,” he says honestly, “but—”

“‘but’?!” you practically shriek. “but what?! the ramen here is really good! what could you possibly have to say about the ramen here?”

he laughs, looking away from you and rolling his eyes at how fast you are to pounce. “i love the ramen, but,” he continues, “we need to find you some favorites that don’t involve roaming around the area that siwoo and mina happen to be in. i’ll show you some of my favorites. away from here. and if you want your own favorites, then we’ll go to a place you’ve never been and we’ll find you new favorites. but i hate to inform you… this will be the last time we eat in this godforsaken area so i hope you enjoyed that.”

when joshua looks back down at you, you’re no longer smiling. he tenses when he realizes you look a little sad, your mouth turned down at the corners so slightly, he probably wouldn’t notice if he weren’t so close to your face.

“oh,” he breathes, “y/n, i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

you shake your head quickly and he clamps his mouth shut.

“y’know,” you say quietly, like any louder and you’ll start crying. he doesn’t doubt that you would. it’s been a whole 24 hours since you did—at least in front of him. “it really fucking sucks… finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, and on top of that, having to continue relying on him.”

your hold on his forearm tightens for a moment, and before he can think about it, he removes his right hand from his pocket and closes it over yours.

“and i know that we’ve only known each other for like… a day,” you say, laughing even though your voice is getting dangerously watery, “but every time we talk… i stop to think i’m really lucky that of all the people i could’ve been suffering through this with, it turned out to be you.”

joshua’s mouth parts to say something, but nothing comes out because nothing even comes to mind. there you go again—so honest and forthcoming and bold and you. there you go again, making his brain the most useless organ in his body without even trying.

“you’re really nice,” you sigh. “thank you.” you turn away and wipe at your eyes quickly before taking your hand back from his and releasing his arm altogether. he immediately feels a little colder. he returns his hand to his pocket. “for my last dinner in this stupid fucking neighborhood.”

he clears his throat. “you’re welcome.”

“i’ll hold you to it, y’know,” you warn him, bumping his shoulder. “don’t think you can say nice things like that and then have no follow-through.”

from the way you say it, he knows you’re thinking of siwoo. he wonders what sort of tiny things siwoo promised you that he never delivered on if he couldn’t even do something as simple as stay true to you. joshua thinks it will be easy for him to show you how nice people can be when they aren’t taking you for granted.

“good, hold me to it.”

“i will! you owe me a favorite chicken shop, a favorite ramen shop, a favorite boba shop, a favorite ice c—”

“jesus christ, how often were you here?”

you laugh loudly. “you owe me so many favorites.”

joshua smiles. “come on,” he says. “we’ll get you all those favorites. but for now, let’s get you home.”

“goodbye forever, ramen shop,” you bid the establishment farewell happily. “and goodbye, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

he grins. “good riddance, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

you’re consumed by giggles hearing him curse again.

acting normal while texting you proves to be the hardest thing joshua has done every single time he does it. it’s either you’re being incredibly funny and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot, or you’re saying a bold inside thought and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot. either way, even if he thinks he does a good job at appearing normal via text, he knows he looks crazy in person.

“you’re cheesing real hard, bro.”

joshua immediately locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket as he forces his face into a blank stare. 

“smooth,” jeonghan says, snickering from where he’s sprawled across the other side of joshua’s couch, no longer paying attention to the movie he begged to put on. “texting y/n?”

“no.” the lie comes out before he can even think about it. “watched a funny video.”

he hums, a soft smile on his lips. joshua knows he doesn’t believe him. “well, speaking of her, what’s going on with the two of you anyway?” 

“what?”

“what’s going on with—”

“no, i heard you,” he laughs. “i just meant, like… what do you mean? i’m helping her with siwoo. you know that.”

he narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly, but being his best friend, joshua is educated on all the nuances jeonghan’s face comes with.

“what?” he asks again. 

“do you like her?”

“yeah, she’s cool. kind of intense but cool. don’t you?”

jeonghan rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s trying not to smile too widely. he cocks an eyebrow at him. “i mean, do you like like her? do you fancy her?”

joshua scoffs. “what?”

it’s such a ridiculous question to ask someone who broke up with his girlfriend not even a full week ago. he thinks he was mostly telling the truth when he told you he had no heartache for him to expel from his body because both his heart and brain have been fairly quiet since that afternoon, but even then, he’s still too disoriented from how fast his life changed to think about liking anyone.

“it’s been days since mina and i broke up,” he reminds his best friend. “how could i already be interested in someone else?”

“well, mina didn’t wait to break up before she bec—”

“okay,” joshua holds a hand up to stop him from pointing out mina’s infidelity for the thousandth time since they found out. “mina and i aren’t the same. i can’t just jump into something else so quickly after. and it’s not even about mina.”

“oooh,” jeonghan sits up properly and crosses his legs, folding his hands over his knee. “explain.”

he shrugs. “i don’t really feel all that torn up about her as much as i am about how bad my instincts are.”

he frowns. “your instincts?”

“yeah, like… the signs were glaringly obvious,” joshua explains. “you knew she was a snake before all of this; you just didn’t know why. how come i didn’t see any of that? and,” he practically yells as he resituates himself on the couch so that he’s fully facing jeonghan, “how could i have thought i was going to possibly marry someone like that? i can’t even think about looking at another person until i wrap my mind around how i could have ever thought i was in love. what if i don’t even know what love is?”

“whoa, okay—”

“what if i end up with another mina?”

“—slow down,” jeonghan raises his hands like he’s trying to calm a bull. he mirrors his position, fully turning to him on the sofa now. “first of all, you know what love is. your judgment was just clouded for a little bit! you were lost in the joy of having a girlfriend that lasted a lot longer than the others. or you were being a weirdo and getting swallowed up by the plight of being in your 30s with no prospects for marriage, so you deluded yourself into thinking mina was it.”

joshua’s mouth pops open in shock a little at that. “i mean… that’s… plausible.”

“whatever it is—even if it is that she fooled you and you were blind to all the red flags, that doesn’t mean you don’t know what love is. how could you not know what love is when i’m your best friend? i love the shit out of you.”

he does crack a smile at this. he lets the reminder sink in and marinate in his brain. jeonghan could very much be right on the money with this one; after all, mina came at a time when joshua was starting to question if his love life was cursed. he was fresh out of therapy he sought out because his ex broke up with him for essentially being a robot, and he was eager to share more of himself with the next one—to love the next one harder than he had the rest. maybe he really was just forcing something to be that wasn’t meant to be.

“say it back.”

he laughs. “i love you too.” he sighs. “what else?”

“huh?”

“you said ‘first of all.’ i assume you have a second of all?”

jeonghan frowns for a moment before a light bulb goes off in his head. “yes! second of all, y/n is not mina.”

“wait, what?”

“you said, ‘what if i end up with another mina?’ y/n is not mina.”

“of course she’s not mina,” joshua says. that much is obvious; if mina is one end of the spectrum, you’re so far on the other end, it went all the way back around to mina. “but why are we even talking about y/n?”

“because it’s clear you like her,” he informs him, amused. 

“i don’t like her like that,” he disagrees confidently and somewhat exasperatedly. whenever jeonghan got ideas like this in his head, it became an inarguable truth to him regardless of what anyone else said. he knows if he doesn’t nip it in the bud, he’ll run with it for the rest of their lives. “she’s funny and nice and cool to hang out with, but she’s just a friend.”

“is that why you’re texting and calling her 24/7 when the rest of us feel like we’re pulling teeth trying to get you to respond to us?” jeonghan points out. joshua opens his mouth to refute his point, but he steamrolls right over his words. “is that why you’re extra mean to me whenever the three of us hang out?”

“we’ve only hung out all three of us twice. and what do you mean i’m mean to you?”

his best friend laughs openly in his face. “you’re really going to tell me you don’t notice the way you kick me or interrupt me or glare at me whenever so much as an ounce of y/n’s attention is on me instead of you?”

is that what his odd behavior at the ramen shop was about? he was trying to get on joshua’s nerves as some kind of experiment?

joshua narrows his eyes at him. “i do those things because you’re annoying me.”

“i’ve annoyed you our whole lives,” he shoots right back. “you’ve only started abusing me recently.”

“you’re so dramatic and wrong.”

“okay!” jeonghan agrees too easily. he stands up.

“where are you going?” joshua leans back to look up at him. “aren’t we getting dinner later?”

he hums in thought before quickly saying no. “rain check! i think i’m going to ask y/n if she wants to go out instead. i’ve been thinking about asking her out.”

joshua is not dumb. joshua is actually very smart. he graduated top of his class from an ivy league in the U.S., he has an MBA, and he—much like you were supposed to be before siwoo upended your life—became a director at his company before 30, still on track to become the youngest senior director.

joshua is smart and he knows what jeonghan is trying to do, but his dumb face frustratingly doesn’t get the memo. before he can even fully process the words, his eyebrows are pulling down, eyes sharpening into a glare, and jaw clenching so hard, he knows jeonghan can hear his teeth grinding.

“oh, really,” he deadpans. 

“yup!” he has the audacity to grin at joshua, eyes so full of mischief and mirth, he wants to kick him again and give him something to really complain about. “i’ll see myself out, don’t worry about getting up. bye joshuji! i’ll tell y/n you said hi!”

joshua scoffs as he watches him actually leave his apartment. and again, because various parts of his body seem to be missing signals from his brain that he doesn’t care, once the door clicks closed behind jeonghan, he throws himself back onto the couch mindlessly and hastily, struggling to retrieve his phone from his pocket. 

“why are these jeans so fucking tight,” he mumbles as his hand gets a little stuck. when he finally rips the phone out of his pocket, he briefly considers texting you but lands on calling you instead. what he’s going to say, he has no idea. 

“i was just about to call you,” you once again answer without greeting him first. 

“oh. hi,” he says, a little thankful for the non-greeting for once because it gives him some time to come up with an excuse for calling you other than he wanted to beat jeonghan to it. “why were you going to call?”

“because you were taking a long ass time to reply again,” you say simply. he snickers at your streak of impatience. “why are you calling?”

that wasn’t a lot of time to come up with an excuse at all, but joshua thinks “so we can make plans. i don’t feel like texting” is more than good enough. 

“oh yay,” you accept the fib easily. “well, as an unemployed idiot, i am free… let me see… oh yes, all day every day, but extra free on whatever day siwoo’s parents decide to hold me hostage at dinner with them.”

joshua laughs, slowly relaxing against the couch once more. “well, how about tonight?”

“ugh, unfortunately, they do not want to have dinner tonight, but yes, i am free.”

“how about we meet to discuss your top secret plan tonight and then hang again whenever your dinner with that nightmare family is?” he suggests. 

“joshua hong, my knight in shining armor,” you joke. his cheeks warm at the words. “sounds like a plan. can we meet at yours, though? i don’t want to reveal how crazy i am in a public setting. that seems too vulnerable. and i’d invite you over here but it’s probably best we don’t discuss these plans in the home of the man whose life i’d like to destroy.” joshua truly admires your way with sarcasm. 

“yeah, i’ll text you my address,” he agrees. and because he’s extra irate with jeonghan for thinking he can manipulate him into becoming some kind of jealous monster, he adds: “you can come over whenever—even now if you want. i’m free all day” just in case his best friend calls you too after you hang up.

“oh great!” you say. “siwoo is out all day doing lord knows who or what and i’m done brushing the toilet with everything he owns, so i can be on my way once you send it.”

joshua smiles. “perfect.”

he knows he literally just played right into jeonghan’s game, but somehow, he still feels like he won.

it doesn’t take you long at all to get to his apartment, and when you do, he’s a little stunned to open the door and find your arms completely empty—no files full of information only the CIA would have or fat manila envelopes stuffed with plans to eviscerate your exes like he expected. instead, you stand there, hands clasped in front of you with nothing but your purse hanging on your shoulder. 

“nice place,” you comment as you look around his apartment, unabashedly looking at the books on his shelves, art on the walls, even running your fingers across the strings of his guitar in the corner. “you play?”

he hums as he plops back down on his couch. “yeah, since i was young. do you?”

you laugh like he told a joke. “no. i’m not creatively gifted. it doesn’t really surprise me that you are, though.”

he’s about to ask you what makes you say that but you turn to him and clap your hands together once. 

“okay! let’s do this! we have a lot of material to get through tonight.” 

you throw your purse on the counter of the breakfast bar, make your way to the coffee table in front of him, take your phone out of your pocket, and sink to the floor. 

“let’s start with mina; i think she’ll be much easier since she doesn’t have a family-owned empire for us to topple.”

joshua’s eyes widen. “a family-owned what for us to what?”

you wave your hand like it’s an irrelevant detail. “we’ll get into it later,” you assure him as you get to wherever you were swiping to on your phone. you read a few lines and then nod, looking up at him. “so mina is a grade A gold-digger.”

joshua huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. “i’m not saying i disagree because you have very solid evidence—good job, by the way—”

“thank you!” you chirp happily, smiling widely.

“—but i am not rich enough for anyone to try digging for gold around here.”

your smile disappears, expression flattening into a glare as you pointedly look around his apartment. he follows your gaze, and yes, he sees what you see: a very spacious apartment, all of the interests and hobbies he can afford to indulge in, and furniture he hired an interior designer to curate for him. he’ll give it to you—he’s definitely a little more than just comfortable, but he’s not gold-digging material. he never even gave mina much money; he just paid for dates, and he tells you as much.

“well, i did some digging, and that’s all she would’ve really needed you to pay for. little miss busy body had multiple streams of income,” you tell him, swiping on your phone until you’re showing him screenshots of instagram profiles. the first is siwoo’s. 

joshua would never admit it, but his curiosity got the best of him after overhearing your conversation with siwoo over the phone, and he found his profile after combing through the accounts you follow. the man’s face was tolerable enough, though not anything special to look at, in joshua’s opinion. he definitely thinks you can do a lot better. but for mina, though, he’s perfect. they’d make monstrous, ugly, little children.

“so here are my theories,” you announce. “correct me if you think i’m wrong with any of this since you know mina better.” he nods in agreement. “i think siwoo was target number one. she thought because he’s the heir to a sizable company, that he would be a good sugar daddy to land, but he was already taken by a smart, beautiful, kind, and insanely funny woman that turned out to be way too good for him.” he grins at you. “and because too many people have eyes on his finances—mommy, daddy… and me but only because i started snooping—”

joshua snorts, looking down at his lap when he thinks of the things you’re pushed to do when a man is making you feel insecure. it’s not fitting for you and he hates it.

“—he probably couldn’t give mina as much money as she was expecting. but she thought she’d keep him around in case there was ever an opportunity to go full-time with him,” you theorize. you turn your phone back to you, swiping to the next account. “minhyuk.”

joshua looks up and rolls his eyes when he sees an account full of shirtless photos of the man he met in mina’s apartment. “yeah. minhyuk.”

“he lives about 30 minutes from mina’s apartment in the opposite direction of siwoo, putting them about an hour away from each other,” you inform him.

“how the hell do you know that?”

you smile slyly. “i have my ways.” when he keeps staring at you, you roll your eyes. “his full name is on his instagram so i looked him up on linkedin and facebook, and the latter had photos of him moving into his apartment, okay? kids nowadays don’t care about internet safety; it’s not rocket science, shua. anyway,” you point back to the screenshot of his account, trying to redirect his attention, “that’s a healthy enough distance that she probably felt safe dating these two. on top of that, minhyuk is a pilot for korean airlines—did you know they can make up to 300 million won a year? absolutely rich enough to warrant mina’s attention.”

joshua has to admit that maybe he should reconsider what he thinks is rich versus what is comfortable if 300 million won was impressive to you.

“so mina snatches him up, knowing it won’t be much of a time commitment since he’ll constantly be flying all over the place,” you explain. “then, we have…” you swipe and sigh, shaking your head. “this guy.”

joshua narrows his eyes at the screen where he’s met with the account of a man he’s never seen before. he’s very tatted, with a kind face and a nice smile, and if his photos are any indication, he works out just as hard as minhyuk apparently does. 

“and who is this?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“boyfriend number three,” you say a little uncomfortably. “jeon jungkook.”

joshua grunts but says nothing, so you continue.

“before you ask how i found him, i went through all of the people mina follows on instagram, and—”

“her profile is private,” joshua points out.

“that’s what burner accounts are for,” you respond.

“she approved aggretsuko’s request to follow her…?”

you smile. “no, silly, i followed her from my believable burner. aggretsuko is more just for being able to blindly like and follow whatever and whoever i want to. i have a fake account featuring a fake person with a fake life and fake followers. she let that one follow her.”

“i should really stop questioning you. you’re obviously very capable at this whole revenge thing.”

“yeah, the sooner you do that, the faster our conversations will be. so i went through all the accounts she follows, which thankfully aren’t many because the bitch likes having a skinny mini following to follower ratio.” 

joshua shakes his head at your name-calling but fights off a smile anyway.

“i picked out every man—again, not many because she was probably mindful of them being able to see each other’s accounts—and i looked up their occupations on linkedin and if they made a good salary, they made the cut. from there, i just heavily cyberstalked them until i had no choice but to rule them out, or in jungkook’s case, until i found something incriminating.”

he doesn’t bother asking because he can see you get a kick out of explaining this to him.

“a photo of him and mina at a romantic dinner, dated a year and a half ago.”

“before me.”

you nod. “yup. jungkook is an investment banker, aka basically a bank, period, to mina. and seeing as the korean stock exchange is based in busan, he’s constantly flying between there and here for work—”

“making him another good candidate for a boyfriend since he wouldn’t demand a lot of her time.”

you nod and point at him. “exactly! which brings us to boyfriend #4.” you put your phone on the table and gesture at him. “you.”

he nods. “me.”

you tilt your head at him. “honestly, i couldn’t figure out what it was that made mina choose you.”

he scoffs. “wow.”

“no, don’t get me wrong,” you say, shaking your head calmly. “you’re a fucking catch—leagues better than any of these guys as far as i can tell.” he feels his cheeks get hot. “but that’s why i couldn’t figure it out. mina digs her claws into these rich, kinda vain, kinda power-hungry men, and then she found you, and you’re yes, rich, but also kind, sweet, caring, and all of the other good words in the dictionary.”

the heat spreading across his face grows exponentially warmer. 

“therefore, i concluded that mina chose you to be her real boyfriend.” 

joshua frowns. 

“doesn’t it make sense? she chooses guys who are either romantically unavailable or physically unavailable, so she still has all this time on her hands. the girl is evil but she’s also human so she craved an actual partner. she chose you.”

it sounds like it should be a compliment, but joshua feels even more repulsed by the idea that three just wasn’t enough for her. she really went out of her way to find him and torment him when she had more than enough to go around.

“this is the kind of greed the bible warned us about,” joshua mutters under his breath, mostly to himself. you hear it though, and the sound of your laugh immediately makes him smile back at you.

“yeah, mina is definitely a warning sign from god.”

“wish i listened.”

you give him a smile. “eh, where’s the fun in that?”

he knows you’re just trying to make him feel better but that you probably don’t believe that. he hasn’t forgotten what you were like the first night you met—how you cried and drank so miserably. still, you somehow found it in yourself to joke around like this. it makes him stop moping.

“okay,” he says, nodding and leaning forward with renewed vigor. “so she’s really good at time management. now what?”

you laugh. “she doesn’t need to be good at time management because i learned that mina doesn’t even fucking work, bro.”

the information is jarring enough that he doesn’t fully register what you call him. “what?”

“i called the company you mentioned her working for and pretended to be a recruiter calling for a reference, and they said no one by that name has ever worked there,” you report. “i think she’s making her living off her boyfriends. which is why i said that she only needed you to pay for dates. the others are funding her whole life.”

“oh my god, i hate her,” he says plainly as he thinks of all the “overtime” she had to clock in and the “business trips” she went on and the never-ending complaints about a boss that didn’t even exist. “what kind of fucking sociopath…”

you nod solemnly. “it at least makes our job easier; all we have to do is cut her from her money source.”

“the boyfriends.”

you hum affirmatively. “you and minhyuk are already done, so we just need to get siwoo and jungkook to cut her off. but now that she’s suddenly out two streams of income, i’m sure she’ll be really laying it on thick with those two to make up for it. we’ll have to be a bit creative.”

the craziest, most intrusive thought enters joshua’s head and in the next second, it’s exiting his mouth. “mingyu returns this weekend.”

you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic but you don’t comment on it. “mingyu, the man you kept accusing me of being when i first messaged you?” you ask, sneering at the mere mention of his name. “that mingyu?”

he nods. “yup. there’s always been three of us: me, jeonghan, mingyu. he’s been traveling and he comes back in a few days.”

“okay… and what exactly does that have to do with ruining mina’s life?”

joshua grins, feeling excitement bubbling in his stomach. “kim mingyu, y/n, is rich. and not just comfortable—actually rich. as in rich enough for mina to drop all her boyfriends and quit scouting rich guys for the rest of her life if she had reason to think he was willing to fully support her.”

“does she not know what one of your best friends looks like…?” you question, making the most judgmental face joshua thinks he’s ever seen. he snickers.

“nope,” he says, popping the p. “mingyu’s been gone for the entirety of our relationship, traveling all over the place, so she never met him and his social media presence is equivalent to your aggretsuko account—for looking, not posting. all he does online is try to prank me.” he laughs more fully now, shaking his head at how perfect it is. “he’s a bored trust fund baby who knows how to act. he’s going to love doing this.”

your mouth drops open in awe, staying there for several seconds before you realize you haven’t said anything. “well,” you mutter, a smile very slowly beginning to spread across your face, “if you say he’s rich, then he must be absolutely rolling in it. and if he’s rolling in it—”

“then mina’s going to take the bait.”

you grin widely now, leaning forward onto the coffee table and shaking your head. “you, joshua hong, are so much more diabolical than you let on.”

he smirks. “learning from the best.”

“oh, she is so over.”

a/n: thanks for your patience! i'm afraid i will require more of it as i continue getting used to my new schedule LOL (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment here or send me an ask! if you requested to be on the list but weren’t tagged in this post or the reblog, it’s bc you don’t have an age indicator on your page. pls add that (and lmk that you did) if you want to be tagged next time.

part three teaser

"i really lost myself in this, y'know?" you whisper, head tilting up at the sky like maybe you'll find whatever it is you think you lost up there in the never-ending black. 

joshua follows your gaze. “i don’t think you lost anything. i think it’s all still there.”

“how would you know? you didn’t know who i was before siwoo changed every aspect of me and my life,” you remind him like he needs to be reminded at all. every day, he found himself thinking about what life would be like if he had met you before siwoo had. he doesn’t need the reminder.

“i know because there’s no way any part of you that’s here with me right now is because of siwoo,” he tells you confidently. “you’re so… funny and smart and confident and reliable and cool. and you want me to believe any of that is because of siwoo?”

that gets him a small smile. “careful or i’ll start to think you have a favorable opinion of me.”

he snorts. “if you don’t already think that, i’m probably not being a good enough friend.”

joshua looks down when you press your shoulder against his. the breeze blows strands of hair into your face, and he suppresses the desire to tuck them behind your ear. “you’re a great friend. probably the greatest i’ve made in my adult life.”

he nods. “you too. all of you—every version of you before, during, and after siwoo. i like them all. even the ones i never got to meet."

"you're so..." you start but never finish.

"hmm?"

"nothing," you say. "thanks."

"for?"

"saying all of those nice things."

"pfft, don't get too big-headed about it," he says, trying to play it cool. you smile. "i just can't stand the idea that you think any part of who you are today is due to an idiot like siwoo."

you sigh and rest your head against his shoulder. he has to actively try to keep his body relaxed when you do. “did you know that the name siwoo means divine intervention?”

joshua shakes his head. “i didn’t.”

“divine intervention,” you repeat, scoffing this time. “like, yeah. he definitely intervened and derailed my whole life, that’s for sure. i have no idea where the fuck ‘divine’ comes from, though.”

“are you sure you didn’t misread it and it’s actually disturbing intervention?”

you laugh and slap his arm softly. “what does joshua mean?” you ask after a few moments of silence.

“uh,” he squints as he tries to remember what his mom told him, “salvation, i think.”

you suddenly lift your head up off his shoulder and look at him, eyes narrowing a little as you very closely and openly study his face. he feels self-conscious, a feeling he seems to have gotten used to around you.

“salvation…” it sounds like you’re testing the word on your tongue. you scan his face for something he doesn’t have the composure to ask about right now. no, his composure is nowhere to be found as your gaze rakes every centimeter of every feature of his face, taking your time like you're simultaneously trying to understand him and committing him to memory. “huh" is all you say when you're done.

“what?” he asks quietly, resisting the urge to pass a hand over his face in case there’s something on it. 

“nothing,” you say, face relaxing one again. you smile a little, and even with the lessened intensity, your stare is starting to feel like it’s burning a hole right through him. “it’s just… fitting. joshua. salvation.”

and why exactly would that be fitting?

tag list: @coupsma @tokitosun @nothingbutadeadesceane @ateez-atiny380 @minghaofied @reiofsuns2001 @turtash @https-seishu @gaslysainz @dawn-iscozy @mrsjohnnysuh @sunnysidesins @thepoopdokyeomtouched @faizaa09 @hearts4itoshi @iamdkayyyyy @randojeon @iwannakisspoutycheol @youre-on-your-ownkid @justanotherkpopstanlol @sanaxo-o @seokqt @tjtales @ilouvwonwoo @littlemisshyperfixation @mxelatrix-x @papichulomacy @o-schist @sumzysworld @alyssa19123456

[cycat-carisi]

My Heart In Your Dreams

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve Harrington used to be your best friend but things went south when the two of you started high school and the Steve you knew became someone very different. Now, after years apart, he's shown up to a business dinner hosted by your parents. Why has he come and will you and Steve be able to overcome the past?

Tags: canon adjacent (post S4/pre-S5), flashbacks (in italics), former best friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort/angst/fluff, mention of child neglect (Steve's dad is an a-hole), mention of class differences, mutual pining, no use of y/n, reader has a gap in her teeth, self-consciousness, some cursing.

Words: 10,825 (oops)

A/N: This one goes out to all my fellow gap-tooth girlies! The idea for this one came about when Djo first performed "Gap Tooth Smile" live. I appreciated this song so much because it was finally a piece of media that painted this unique feature in a positive light. It gives people like me me a new reason to be proud of our smiles. The fic began as a single scene born from the positivity of the song, and kept growing the more I filled in the gaps (pun intended)! It's been a long labour of love, and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it 🩷

Fic below the cut or on AO3.

Summer 1988

“Oh.”

“It’s definitely…unique.”

“Has it always been that wide?”

“Ever thought about getting it closed in?”

Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, like every other time, you can’t help but notice it too. The way that it always seems to be staring back at you.

There was a time when you stubbornly refused to even think about it in a negative way. It was a feature so uniquely you that a swell of pride would rise in your chest when you saw it. It was something that helped set you apart from all those snooty high school peers during a time when being different was your badge of honour.

That was then. Since, you’ve grown up and have gone on to college. And suddenly you are engulfed by a world where all your precious differences have mutated into your greatest insecurities.

In the mirror, you observe your styled hair and mascara-coated eyelashes, but as you part your lips to tint them in a soft pink hue, its presence seems to dominate over all the other effort you’ve put into your appearance.

“It” being the three-millimeter gap between your two front teeth. You force a smile, wondering for the umpteenth time whether it’s too large. Sure, it’s symmetrical and straight, but all those comments your brain has accumulated over the years get pushed to the forefront each time you catch a glimpse of it.

Those comments war with your confidence, flip-flopping you between pride and self-doubt. After all, you’ve been painfully single for your entire twenty-one years on this planet, and perhaps it has something to do with your smile. Maybe you open your mouth and guys high-tail it in the opposite direction the minute they get a view. After all, a gap-tooth smile surely doesn’t fit the college girl norm. No, all the girls you see are petite with perfect smiles, and attached to their arms are the most handsome guys on campus. The evidence is clear, and it’s hard not to let the insecurities wreak havoc when you definitely do not meet the conventional beauty standards on display around you.

Blinking once, twice, three times, you cram your eyes shut to perform a hard reset on your brain. There’s no time for wallowing in self-pity. The Harringtons, a family that prides themselves on wealth and appearance, will be arriving downstairs any minute for dinner.

The worn carpet on the stairs scratches on the pads of your toes and the aroma of fresh bread and roast beef floods your senses as you reach the bottom landing.

“Oh, there you are, sweetie! Can you come set the dinner rolls out on the table, please! They’ll be here any minute!” Your mom whirls past you, scurrying to perfect the place settings in the dining room. Your father is at the counter, furiously hiding away any loose dishes that cause too much clutter.

Earlier you had helped too, dusting and vacuuming, chopping vegetables and polishing the fancy utensils. The fact of the matter is that dinner with the Harringtons always stressed your little family out.

Right around the time you were born, your father took a job with Mr. Harrington’s business branch. It allowed your dad to work close by and provided a decent wage for his young family. The downside was that Mr. Harrington was his boss. And as Mr. Harrington climbed the corporate ladder, your father had stayed firmly in the same position for nearly his whole career. To make matters worse, included in this working relationship are the “business” dinners.

Except, these business dinners always had a similar outcome: either the Harringtons hosted, allowing them to flaunt their wealth, or your parents hosted, causing this.

“Done, mom,” you say, adjusting the two wicker baskets of fluffy white dinner rolls on the table. You try to peek around for any slight imperfections that may still need correcting. “Is there something else I can do?”

“The begonia!” she exclaims suddenly, looking absolutely horrified as she wipes down the counter, again.

The sad little potted flower sits on your living room windowsill. It doesn’t get as much love as it should with both of your parents working all the time, yet somehow, just like your family, it hangs on.

The reason a silly little houseplant has your mother so worked up is due to how years ago, at a dinner just like this, Mrs. Harrington spotted it looking like its usual wilted self and felt it necessary to comment. The dinner was delicious, the house was immaculate, yet the most minute flaw was the one thing that drew the woman’s attention. It made your mother feel like shit and that made your blood boil.

“On it!” you chime, but you are swiftly halted.

“Forget it!” she squeaks. “They’re here!”

As per routine, you scurry towards the door to greet your ‘esteemed’ guests.

Your mother smooths out her pleated skirt as she takes her place at the front of the assembly line. You are just behind her, and try to stand up straighter, adjusting the large, woven leather belt that sits snuggly around the waist of your floral dress. Behind you, your father attempts to hide the deep breath he takes to calm his nerves when your mother reaches for the door.

“Hiiii!” comes the unmistakable shrill voice of Mrs. Harrington. She files through your front door with a large, albeit fake, smile plastered across full scarlet lips. Your mother greets Mrs. Harrington in kind, quickly acknowledging her husband who towers behind her as well.

Your father and Mr. Harrington lock gazes and nod out cordial greetings to one another like they would in the office. Arms extend for firm handshakes as the Harrington patriarch enters your home.

You force smiles and pleasant hellos to each. Even though you would rather be up in your room hiding away, this dinner is important to your parents. You need to be there for them, just like they have always been there for you.

But as Mr. Harrington’s full build clears the doorframe, your breath hitches.

The couple is not alone.

Slumped shoulders and deflated, hazel eyes meet your gaze.

Steve.

Before you have time to react, your attention is pulled away by Mrs. Harrington. She leans in toward you for an air kiss to your cheek and a half-hearted hug. “It’s so good to see you, darling!” she exclaims into your ear, making you flinch. Pulling back, she continues. “It feels like ages since we saw you last.”

As you default to a smile in response, the woman’s brows knit and her perfectly painted lips flick downwards. Her gaze, laser focused on your mouth, makes you feel exposed.

And then, there it is.

“Oh,” she begins, running her hand down your arm, voice laden with disapproval. “Was Doctor Nelson unable to close in your gap?” Doctor Nelson; the orthodontist Mrs. Harrington had given your mom the number of before you went to college.

Mrs. Harrington can nitpick the cleanliness of your mother’s house. She can criticize the quality of the cooking. She can even insult the lack of attention given to that stupid begonia. But the one thing that your mother will not allow Mrs. Harrington to do is berate her daughter. 

“Her smile is gorgeous just the way it is, wouldn’t you say?” Your mother injects sharply.

The Harrington matriarch raises an eyebrow and answers curtly. “Of course.”

Head spinning, your attention is drawn back to Steve. He looks the part of high-class son with a navy blazer resting over top a crisp, white dress shirt. But said shirt is neatly tucked into a pair of dark jeans - a look that is still very much Steve. It makes him appear slick and cool, just like he did in high school. Yet, despite his attire, the Steve Harrington that stands in your doorway lacks the confidence you had been used to seeing from him back at Hawkins High.

His gaze finds yours once again, and you’re met with a partial smile and a quiet nod. It’s certainly a stark contrast to how things used to be.

As if suddenly remembering he had accompanied them, Mr. Harrington voices, with little sincerity, that he hopes it is all right to have brought along his son. Your mother shoots you a sympathetic glance before giving a dismissive not-a-bother wave to her house guests. She then whisks away to add another place setting to the dining table.

Fall 1981

Hawkins High. Its ivory halls with orange and green stripes are a foreign passageway towards your future.

Your head bobs up and down, double, triple checking the piece of paper in your hands that identifies the location of your new locker. Silently counting the numbers as you go, you dodge sophomores, juniors, and seniors who cheerfully reunite with one another after summer break. They pay no mind to the likes of new freshmen such as yourself.

Finally, you find the metal door set aside for you. It’s stiff from months of disuse and creaks when you manage to pry it open. You set your backpack down and begin unloading your repurposed binders and supplies, stacking them neatly into the metal cubical. As you work, a group of girls gathers nearby. Their excitement, much like the fruity aroma of their perfume, drifts towards you as they begin comparing flashy school supplies and fashion accessories.

You know all four of them, of course. They are part of the cohort coming up from Hawkins Middle School, too. Except, summer has treated them well. They’ve slimmed down and grown taller. Each girl sports the latest Stevie Nicks-inspired blowout as well as the newest tops and skirts that you had seen while passing by store windows in Indianapolis. Surrounded by their giggles, you pluck at the hem of your t-shirt, wondering if anyone will remember it from the previous school year.

As you arrange the last of your belongings, your ears are met with a familiar voice counting locker numbers out loud. Turning around quickly with a large, toothy smile at the ready, you find Steve pacing up the hallway. Relief floods you, reassured that you will be facing the first day of high school with your best friend.

Enthusiastically, you raise a hand to wave him over and his hazel eyes flit towards you. The moment, however, is fleeting as Steve’s gaze quickly shifts back to an approaching Tommy H. Your friend greets the other boy with an eyebrow raised skeptically while Tommy thrusts a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the group of girls nearby. You follow the stare of the two boys and realize immediately what now has them grinning ear to ear.

“Oh. My. God!” squeals one girl to the rest. “He’s looking this way!”

“Steve got so hot over the summer, it’s totally unreal,” replies one companion. She smacks her pink bubble gum to emphasize her point.

Another giggles while biting her lip. “I know right?!” She unsubtly flashes her large, mascara-painted lashes across the hallway towards the object of her affection. “He’s so tall, and he let his hair grow.”

All girls then coyly shift their bodies towards Steve and Tommy, twirling strands of their perfectly styled hair around hot-pink-tipped index fingers.

Tommy H is grinning like the devil. He’s lapping up the attention and gives Steve a teasing shove. And to your surprise, Steve’s smile widens, returning flirty glances towards the girls that make them erupt into a fit of even more giggles.

The world around you seemingly falls away. You are invisible, and it feels as though you’ve been slapped across the face. Worse yet, the sight of Steve soaking up the attention from those girls causes your gut to clench in an unfamiliar way. You watch helplessly as both Steve and Tommy beckon the four teens to their side, flirty smiles and playful banter sucking the oxygen from the hallway. You need to get out of here.

Turning, you slam your locker door shut just a little too hard and cram your eyes closed to disguise the tears that threaten to fall. Your first day of high school marked the last day of your friendship with Steve. For the rest of your time at Hawkins High, you gave him a wide berth. Though, never a day went by when you didn’t hope that King Steve, as he would soon become, might have a change of heart and come back to his best friend.

The six of you gather around the wooden dining table; its meager size sparing just enough room for the abundance of steaming food laid out across its top. A delicious mix of savory aromas fill your nostrils as you move towards your seat. Mr. Harrington and your father take their places at opposite ends, while mothers sit next to their children to complete the ensemble. You gather the skirt of your dress and smooth it behind your legs before finally sinking down onto the fruit-patterned cushion of your chair. Glancing upwards, your gut somersaults. The evening’s seating arrangements just so happen to have Steve placed directly across from you.

Pleasant ‘thank yous’ are passed around the table with casseroles of food as guests and hosts alike spoon out portions to complete their plates. “Scrumptious spread as always,” complements Mrs. Harrington while handing a ceramic gravy boat to her husband. “Thank you for having us.” You can never be sure by her sickly-sweet tone whether the praise is genuine or not.

“Our pleasure,” responds your mother, brows furrowing with worry. Her eyes dart around the tabletop for any sign of missing items. You place a calming hand on her lap, reassuring her that her dinner is perfect.

A brass light fixture, with its surrounding glass panes, hangs overhead and casts the space in a warm glow. The cozy atmosphere matches the sounds of clinking utensils and muffled chewing that befall the small room. Pleasant conversation about the weather and current events soon follows while food is enjoyed. But as your head turns to track from one speaker to the next, your body is rigid with nerves. You refuse to meet Steve’s gaze even though you can feel those hazel eyes wander across your face in careful contemplation.

Finally, while tipping your glass of soda to your lips, you sneak a glance across the table. What you find are the freckle-smattered features of the boy you grew up with, except now his youth has waned, leaving behind a grown man with weary eyes and a faded smile.

The tendons in Steve’s hand shift as he uses his fork to glide a slice of beef around his plate and coat it in golden-brown gravy. Then, as Steve lifts the utensil towards his mouth, his darkened eyes catch onto yours through the stray locks dangling across his forehead. You quickly avert your gaze.

What is he playing at? Why did he even come here tonight?

In fact, Steve had stopped coming to business dinners a long time ago – right around that fateful first day of high school. Initially, you had thought you had done something to push him away, but your mother was quick to reassure you that Steve’s decisions were no fault of yours. That sometimes people just change.

Perhaps that was true then and is once again true now. Had Steve finally let go of who he was in high school? Had he come here to –

The sound of your name makes you jump. You quickly shift your attention back to the conversation.

“So,” continues Mr. Harrington through a mouthful of buttered dinner roll. “I hear that you’ll be going into your last year of college this fall. Time certainly does fly. What a wonderful accomplishment!”

The compliment from the usually stony Harrington patriarch puts your defences on high alert.

“Yes, sir,” you answer as politely and cautiously as you can. “I had an internship for my first two summers but decided to spend a summer at home after all that’s happened in Hawkins the last while.”

From the corner of your eye, you notice Steve’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“Very good,” the businessman agrees before shifting focus to his son. “She got into Tech, Steven. Isn’t that something.” His words drip with ridicule, purposely crafted to drive a proverbial knife into his son and twist the blade. And from the way that the colour drains from Steve’s cheeks, you can assume that they’ve achieved their purpose.

Suddenly you feel queasy; there’s a pull inside your chest that you haven’t felt in ages. No matter how terrible Steve had made you feel in the past, he still doesn’t deserve to be treated this way by his own father.

“Steve works at WSQK now,” his mother attempts to smooth over. “He’s learning about all the fancy gadgets they use there in broadcasting.”

Steve parts his lips to contribute, only to be shot down.

Steve’s knuckles blanch from the grip he has on his fork. The tendon in his neck pulls taut, and it seems to be taking all his willpower to keep his breathing level.

“Always had an aversion to real work, this boy.” Mr. Harrington’s voice grows deeper, more empowered. “Too scared to get into college and too stubborn to accept a job from his old man.”

“Such a waste, really.” His father concludes, casting a demeaning gaze down upon his son.

And just as you think Steve might combust, your own father jumps in. “I’ve seen you hard at work around town, Steve,” he offers to the young man. “You were especially helpful at the volunteer center when the community needed it most.”

“Yes, that’s right!” your mother chimes in. “We had brought over food that day and Steve was generously helping in the kitchen. Speaking of food, who’s ready for dessert?”

Summer 1977

It feels as though you are being pulled. Tugged harder and harder by an invisible force away from the blissful comfort of nothingness and towards something you can’t quite put a finger on. It tugs and tugs until your senses begin to regain consciousness.

Ringing.

You suddenly recognize the sound of the landline announcing itself from its place on the foyer wall between the kitchen and the staircase.

A coarse groan leaves your throat as you begrudgingly slip out of bed - the perks of your room being closest to the stairs. You rub your eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the lack of light in the early morning hours. A hand on the wooden banister guides you down the carpeted steps, footing growing more sure the farther you progress. The phone, meanwhile, continues to ring incessantly.

“Hello?” you manage after picking up, vocal cords still groggy from sleep.

A pitifully quiet voice speaks your name from the other end of the receiver.

“Steve?” you question, your 10-year-old, sleep-addled brain working hard to decipher why he would be calling at this hour.

It’s after his next words jolt you awake that you remember that his parents had left him alone for a weekend business retreat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “but I thought I heard someone trying to get into the house and…”

Steve Harrington is the bravest person you know; hearing the fear that laces his voice drops your stomach to your toes.

“I’m gonna go get mom and dad,” you blurt out. You speak his name and clutch the receiver in both palms. “Stay on the line. I’ll be rightback!” You don’t set the phone down until you hear him manage a small “okay”.

Your parents spring into action without question. After getting Steve to reluctantly hang up, your three-person family is piled into your clunky station wagon and speeding the short distance across town towards the Harrington residence.

The house towers in its little corner of suburbia, magnificent even in the darkness. It takes calm knocks and calling through the large wooden door before Steve will open up. As he does, brightness from every possible light fixture pours out into the night while Steve stands sheepishly in the doorway.

Immediately you jump in, knocking him off balance with the force of your tight hug. Steve’s cheeks flush from embarrassment, but your mother instills further assurance. “I’m glad you called, Steve. You did the right thing,” she soothes, before adding that your father has set off to inspect the outside of the home. Concern for the boy growing, she then asks him about his parents.

“I don’t know the hotel they’re at,” he admits with a shrug. “They didn’t leave the number.”

“It’s okay, hon,” comforts your mother. “Go grab a few things. You can stay with us until they get back.”

You watch as Steve’s features flood with relief, though his eyebrows raise as if asking “really?”. Your mother nods with an affirming smile and ushers the two of you to go upstairs and pack.

You return a few minutes later with Steve’s brand-new Nike sports duffel filled with sleepwear, everyday clothes and toiletries. Your father gives the all-clear, but Steve still looks guilty for having dragged your family out of bed for seemingly nothing. “It’s better to be safe, son,” your father reiterates as he gives the boy a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

Once back at your house, extra linen and a spare pillow are gathered to create a makeshift bed on the floor of your room. Unlike the Harringtons’, your cozy little two-storey only boasts enough space for two modest bedrooms. Though it lacks grandeur or expensive furnishings, tonight your house is perfect for the boy who simply needs a home.

The adrenaline from earlier has subsided and sleep once again threatens to overtake you. You lie belly-up underneath your pink fleece blanket; its satin edges tickle the underside of your chin. Darkness coats your bedroom, causing your eyelids to droop. Yet, the shaky breaths sounding from the floor adjacent to you nudge you to speak up.

“Steve?” you whisper warily. “You okay?”

The boy releases an unconvincing hum. The silence that follows conveys his unease.

Finally, another whisper drifts up from the floor below. “I’m…scared.” The last word sticks to his tongue, almost refusing to be spoken.

You have never heard Steve admit that he was afraid of anything. He always trudges bravely into the unknown, sometimes even on your behalf. But hearing his voice tremble in the night just doesn’t sit right with you. Your young brain doesn’t fully comprehend it, but there is this pull inside your chest that desperately wants to be the one who is brave now – brave for your best friend, Steve.

An idea materializes in your thoughts, and quietly you ask, “Do you wanna lie up here?”

You half expect him to say no – Steve never usually likes to accept gestures that lessen his air of confidence – and that’s why you are so surprised when you hear a faint “yeah”.

Without hesitation, you lean over to turn on your bedside lamp. Its white-coloured shade, yellowing from age, casts an amber glow that spreads from its ceramic base, out towards the edges of your small room. You scoot over to the opposite side of your bed as Steve rises from the floor, gripping his borrowed pillow and blanket. He cautiously sets the items down and smooths out your bedsheet for him to lie on top of. Finally, the mattress dips as he stiffly settles himself down. The fragrance of clean laundry and minty toothpaste join him.

“You good?” you question gently as Steve pulls his sheet up to his chin. All you receive is a wordless nod.

In the pale lamplight you can still see the fear etched across Steve’s freckled profile. It burns your insides to witness his lack of a smile. “Steve,” you speak more seriously this time. “You’re safe here. It’s gonna be okay.”

The boy turns his cheek towards you, brown locks haloed by the light emanating from behind his head. His eyes, blackened by shadows, send a silent message of thanks.

“Good night,” he speaks softly, releasing a pent-up breath before turning over to shut off the lamp.

“‘Night, Steve,” you hum in return.

As Steve lies with his back to you, still not yet asleep, a protective feeling emerges from inside your chest. You watch the silhouette of his shoulders rise and fall. It’s unsteady at first, but as time passes, Steve’s breathing eventually evens out. It’s not until you hear his faint snores that you, too, allow yourself to drift off into dream land.

“Hey sweetie,” speaks the gentle voice of your mom entering the kitchen. “How are you holding up so far?”

Turning away from the metal sink where you’ve begun to wash the supper dishes, you give your mother a solemn nod.

She smiles softly back at you. “I know it can’t be easy having Steve here tonight, but he’s been relatively quiet. Ultimately, it is your choice, and I will support you no matter what, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think he’s the same boy he was back then. Perhaps it may finally be time to talk things through.”

Your mother has always been your number one fan. Her advice has only ever steered you in the right direction. Plus, she was the one who dried your tears over what Steve had done. Her suggestion terrifies you, but deep down, there’s a wiggle in your gut that tells you that she’s right.

Giving her a resounding nod, you see hope flicker in her eyes. A reassuring smile is cradled on your lips as she leans in towards you. Her delicate hand rubs warm circles into your back while a loving kiss is placed on your cheek.

Just then, a familiar figure appears in the open archway to the kitchen. His hands are shoved into denim pockets as he takes a cautious step forward.

Your mother follows your line of sight, realizing what has suddenly turned your body rigid. She quickly grabs a plate of cookies, her skirt swaying as she darts away to pair the sweet treats with the tea already served in the living room.

Panic floods your veins, yet your feet feel glued to the floor. After seven years, you have no choice but to ultimately face Steve Harrington head on. God only knows how this encounter will unfold.

Avoiding the inevitable for at least a few seconds longer, you spin back around to the sink and plunge your hands into the steaming dishwater. Fluffy white suds splash back up and cling to the front of your dress.

A distinct voice sounds behind you. “Want some help?”

No.

Yes.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Steve then appears in your periphery like a dream. He effortlessly shrugs off his navy blazer and rolls the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt to the elbows. Collecting a dry towel from the front of the stove, he reaches into the sink for a clean plate and begins to wipe the moisture from its surface. The two of you fall into a silent synchrony: wash, rinse, dry. Wash, rinse, dry.

The oak cabinets with their curved trim flank the sink and the window above it. Steve remembers exactly where each piece of dinnerware belongs – he’s spent enough time in your house to have it engrained in his memory. Except, this time, he leaves them all in a neat stack on the counter, feeling more like an outsider than someone who once used to fit seamlessly into your home.

The last plate is in your grasp. The trickle of the tap pings against the basin of the secondary sink to your right. You place the dish beneath the flow and watch absentmindedly as water rinses the remaining suds away. Your true focus, however, is on the familiar presence beside you. You can feel warmth emanating from where he stands close by; the heady scent of his aftershave saturates your senses.

As your wrist twists to rinse off the opposite side of the plate, Steve’s hand reaches forward just a moment too soon. Your fingers brush against one another and neither person retreats. Your eyes travel from his hand, up the sun-kissed skin speckled with moles of his bare forearm.

Two pairs of eyes then meet. Green and amber flecks gleam back at you under the kitchen light; a war of uncertainty and hope waging on within them.

“Can we talk?” he asks, words released as barely a whisper.

Your chest tightens. Another silent moment passes where you are lost in your thoughts. Steve Harrington is here, standing beside you in your kitchen, seeking some sort of resolution to the happenings of the past.

“Okay,” you answer at last, giving an earnest nod. Steve’s lips form the barest of smiles.

Releasing the water from the sink, you dab your wet hands on a towel and begin to move towards the foyer. You glance back at Steve, whose dark eyebrows raise knowingly, before gathering his blazer and following you up the staircase.

Summer 1979

Eager eyes scan the adults headed into the living room, watch them take a seat; sip from their glasses. Peering around the corner, poised in front of the staircase, you decide that the coast is clear. “C’mon, Steve!” you grasp his hand and yank him towards the first step.

Always vigilant, your mother calls out. “Make sure to keep this music down this time, sweetheart!”

“Yes, mooooom.” A sing-song voice trails up the stairs, echoing your reply as you and Steve giggle to yourselves mischievously.

It’s a beeline for your bedroom – a safe haven from all the business talk and second nature by now for you and Steve. You both have tried staying downstairs with the adults, but all you end up hearing is your fathers discussing quarterly reports and your mothers trying to engage in pleasant conversation. For a pair of kids, it was just too boring! So lately, it didn’t matter if you were at your house or his, the narrative always ended up the same: music.

Putting out a hand, your fingertips brush along the textured wallpaper as you round the corner into your bedroom. Releasing Steve’s hand, you bolt straight for the shelf where you keep your records.

“Don’t look!” you chide, purposefully keeping your shoulders square and back to the boy who moves to plant himself cross-legged beside your bed.

“I’m not!” he whines in defence.

“Close your eyes!” Steve huffs without conviction at your demand but does exactly what you ask. His eyes move beneath soft lids as your shadow approaches.

You take the album you’ve slipped out from the stack and hold it in front of you; your nose and eyes are the only parts of your face now visible. “Okay! Open!”

Steve’s hazel eyes flash wide at the sight of a crisp, new album cover and your hopeful gaze staring back at him. His smile widens. The two of you had been excitedly talking about this album coming out for months.

“You got Candy-O!” he exclaims, and you allow The Cars’ newest album to slip lower to reveal your exaggerated grin.

“I did! Saved up enough allowance to buy it last week. Wanna play it? I haven’t opened it yet so that we could listen together!”

Steve’s features soften. You always took him into consideration, no matter what. “Actually,” Steve’s soft smile morphs into a smirk. “I wanna show you something too.” He raises a hand and waves for you to come over.

You scramble to Steve’s side and plunk yourself down onto the floor, back bouncing off the side of your mattress as you do. Anticipation bubbles through you, making you feel as though you’re going to pop.

Tonight, Steve is grateful that his mother always makes him wear a blazer to these dinners, even if it’s two sizes too big. The article gives him the perfect opportunity to spring a surprise on you – one that he knows will make you squeal and throw your arms around him for a hug.

Steve’s grin is now immeasurable. “So, I got Candy-O, too, but I’ll do you one better,” he begins. “Have no fear of being yelled at when we blast it because…” He reaches inside his blazer, fishing for the pocket before pulling out a Sony Walkman.

“NO. WAY!” You squeal, arms instinctually squeezing his shoulders into a side-hug. You stare at the device in awe. “How did you –” a tentative hand reaches out, but you’re still afraid to touch it. It couldn’t have been cheap.

Steve unceremoniously hands it over for you to inspect. “My dad pulled some strings and got me one.” Your fingers run delicately over the buttons and metallic logo that adorns the front case. Steve then leans over into your space, breath tickling your cheek. He touches a button, and the cassette door pops open. You read the tape that’s already inside and look up to meet Steve’s gaze. The space between your front teeth lights up your features. “Haven’t listened yet either,” he winks. “So, what’re we waiting for?!”

Steve clicks the Walkman closed before producing two sets of headphones which he plugs into twin audio jacks. He then hands you a pair, the two of you settling them atop your ears in unison. Steve delivers you an excited smile with a waggle of his eyebrows and presses the play button.

The funky synth of “Let’s Go” erupts into your ears. Your jaw drops in amazement. To your right, Steve bites his lip and begins to bop his head in time with the beat. He turns to glance at you, and you start mirroring his actions; the song’s peppy rhythm makes you buzz with excitement.

All that can be heard from the living room below is the patter of two pairs of feet that soon get up to dance along to the music.

The wooden banister guides your palm as you ascend the steps. It’s a route that should come second-nature to you, yet in this moment, it feels like a journey into the unknown. Your nerves mount with each step you climb; the soft thud of the extra set of footsteps behind you worsens the unease that grips your gut. You need to compose yourself.

At the top of the landing, you quickly turn to your guest. “I’ve got to use the washroom for a moment.” Steve’s lips part to respond, but you are already darting down the hallway before he gets the chance.

He knows where your room is. He’ll be alright for a few minutes on his own.

Steve continues onwards and locates the entrance to your bedroom - right where it used to be. The door sits half-open, and Steve uses his fingertips to gently push inside. Its hinges whine as they give way.

The small space is like a time-capsule. A shelf lines one wall with your vinyl records stacked neatly by the record player. The old ceramic lamp with its yellowed shade still sits atop the nightstand. Your bed is neatly made up with a floral comforter that Steve doesn’t recognize, but peaking out from beneath it is the same old pink blanket with satin edges. Next to your vanity, a corkboard hangs against the wall; a series of pushpins secure several polaroids to its porous surface. The collection mostly includes close-ups of elegant plants and flowers, but hanging near the edge is a photograph that stands out from the rest. A sunset. Pink and lavender swirls of colour are splashed above the silhouette of what looks to be a park. The scene stirs a memory deep inside of Steve and tugs at the strings inside his heart.

Summer 1981

“Hey, wanna get out of here?”

The proposition catches you off-guard, causing you to reopen your eyes to the evening light streaming in through the window. It casts patterns across the spacious room, bathing the blue and white grid-line wallpaper in a golden glow. Plush carpet cushions your head as you lay spread out across it, much like your companion beside you. In the background, the low pulse of a pop album drones on from a record player.

Your eyebrow lifts in question. Steve must sense your reservation because he quickly adds, “We could ride bikes – I still have that spare you can use – and we could just do whatever.”

You sit up then, brows sewing together and mind trying to decipher what is making Steve so antsy to escape. The teen mirrors your actions, propping two hands behind him as he scans your features for an answer.

“No one will even know we’re gone,” he attempts to reassure you. “We can sneak out…like ninjas.”

Your resolve cracks. A goofy smile curls the edges of Steve’s lips, and a laugh erupts through your nose. Shaking your head at his antics, you finally deliver your verdict. “As much as we used to practice being ninjas like fiveyearsago, I’m still not going to lie to my parents.”

Steve’s smile falters ever so slightly.

“Besides,” you turn up a corner of your mouth into a sly grin, “you catch more flies with honey.” A wink caps it all off, which lets Steve know you’re on board with ditching the confines of his bedroom in exchange for some fun.

The two of you scramble to your feet and laugh out into the hallway. The staircase is grand in comparison to yours, and you indulge in squishing your toes into its spongy beige carpeting as you compete to reach the landing first.

On the main floor, you lead the way into the expansive dining room where you find the Harringtons and your parents sat sipping expensive wine from equally expensive crystal goblets. Your mother grips her glass firmly as if it could jump out of her hand at any moment and shatter.

Coming into view with Steve behind you, your parents’ heads are the first to turn away from the conversation. You put on your most innocent smile and announce the reason for your appearance during business talk. “We’re just gonna go ride bikes for a bit, ‘kay?”

Your mother returns your smile, “Sure honey, just make sure that you’re home before ten.”

Nodding a silent thank you, you also turn towards your father where he, too, offers a reassuring grin.

“Thanks!” you chime before turning to skip past Steve and into the main foyer. You stick your tongue out at him for good measure as you pass by.

Being out of earshot, however, you don’t end up hearing how Mr. Harrington sternly calls to his son. “Have her back on time, Steven. And no fooling around.” Your early exit from the house also means that you don’t comprehend the resulting flush of embarrassment that still overtakes Steve’s once-joyful features when he meets you outside. But before you can quiz him on it, he dashes into the storage shed to retrieve a pair of bicycles.

At first, the two of you don’t have a plan. The wooded area around Steve’s home gives way to a growing number of houses as you travel along; the steady clack of bike chains at work and the rush of wind past your faces are the only sounds for several long minutes.

That’s what’s nice about having Steve as your best friend; you can be doing nothing at all – not even talking – and it feels so comfortable. Just knowing he’s there surrounds you in a sense of ease.

The summer’s heat is still in full swing despite how the sun has begun to lower towards the horizon. The stickiness of sweat clings under your arms and to the backs of your knees where they bend to help push the bike pedals along. Finally, you break the silence. “Should we get ice cream?”

Steve’s brown locks flutter in the breeze as he glances over at you. “Sounds perfect!”

Pedalling with purpose, the two of you find the local ice cream stand and each order two-scoop cones to go. It’s Steve’s idea to bring the sweet treats along for the ride until you find a better spot to enjoy them. You mumble your annoyance but ultimately love that the evening is turning into a bit of a silly adventure.

The rest of the ride is a wobbly one. One hand is on a handlebar while the other grips onto your cone for dear life. “This is impossible, Steve!” you giggle, front tire weaving as you crane your neck to lick up a trickle of melting cream.

“Aww, suck it up, buttercup!” he teases, edging his bicycle closer to yours on the roadway. Steve uses the proximity to lean over and bop the mushy tip of his cone on your nose.

“Hey!” you squeak, trying – to no avail – to clean up the cold, sweet substance with your tongue.

Steve starts laughing so hard that he nearly loses his balance. His tummy somersaults. His eyes grow wide, and he unleashes a little “whoaa!” before clumsily correcting his course.

Now it’s your turn to wear a Cheshire grin. “Neener neener!”

Steve sticks his tongue out at you before taking a long, spiteful lick of his ice cream.

The ride continues for a short distance until you find yourselves at the local park. Lush green grass spreads out over its expanse. An empty playground sits tucked into one corner. Tall trees, thick with emerald leaves, line the park’s perimeter, yet a small break in the treeline provides an unobstructed view into the distance. You hold Steve’s cone as he props up your bikes, making sure to sneak a lick when his back is turned.

An old, wooden park bench becomes your resting spot, its splintering edges a welcome respite while you enjoy your cold treat.

“How can you eat that stuff?” recoils Steve after having accepted the taste you offered him.

“Bubble gum is the best!” you state matter-of-factly. “Ice cream meets bubble gum chunks. Perfection!”

“Eugh,” he exaggerates again. “I tell ya, classic butterscotch is where it’s at.”

“Agree to disagree.” You nudge Steve’s shoulder with your own. He returns a grunt that holds no heat.

Comfortable chatter continues between you - talk about music and movies, middle school blunders and local town gossip - until you both crunch down the last of your dessert.

The summer sun now dips below the horizon, casting the sky above Hawkins in streaks of pink and lavender. A silence descends as the two of you sit in awe of the beautiful sight.

As you take in your surroundings, thoughts begin to swirl in your mind. “I can’t believe we’ll be starting high school in a few weeks.”

Steve exhales deeply beside you. “Don’t remind me.”

“I wish we could stay fourteen forever.” Without thinking, you gently lay your head against Steve’s shoulder. His warmth seeps into your cooling skin. “I love hanging out with you,” you add with a wistful smile. “You just get me and all my weird.”

You don’t know it, but the weight of your head tipped against him is the only thing keeping Steve from floating away. You’re the only person in his life who truly seems to want to spend time with him. And, as the lavender sky darkens to an indigo hue, Steve carefully sets his head on top of yours, too. It’s a simple gesture, but he hopes it’s enough to show you that he feels the same way about you.

The tenderness of his action sets off a million butterflies in your stomach and suddenly, as you sit on the worn park bench watching the setting sun, the only person you can imagine ever being here with is Steve.

The intimate moment, however, barely has time to linger before Steve abruptly straightens up. Your cheek slides off his cotton t-shirt and a rumble reverberates from within his chest as he awkwardly clears his throat.

“It’s getting dark,” he speaks stiffly before switching his tone to one of friendly banter. He turns to give you a signature smirk. “Gotta make sure to get you home. Don’t wanna be late for that ten-p.m. curfew.”

It’s impossible to not return a full smile. “Oh, shut up, Harrington. You love my folks, too.”

As the two of you pedal back home under the glow of streetlamps, you can’t help but wonder if there was more to what happened on the bench. And more importantly, whether Steve had felt it too.

“Get it together, girl!” you exclaim internally into the bathroom mirror. A low clap from dual pats to your cheeks sounds off in the cramped bathroom as you try unsuccessfully to calm the flock of birds taking flight in your stomach.

Your mind flashes back to that moment in the kitchen. Why had your heart skipped a beat at a simple, innocent touch? Your cheeks had flushed, too, while observing his features. Steve’s appearance has certainly matured, yet he is still unmistakably good-looking – perhaps even more so than you last remember. His chestnut hair had lightened at the tips; his jaw had become sharper at its base. His hazel eyes are now bordered by hooded lids and dark lashes. The frame of Steve’s body had even grown more defined than it was in high school. Objectively, Steve Harrington had developed into a handsome young man.

But as you continue to peer at yourself in the mirror, that old adversary inside your head grows louder. Not much is different about you. Sure, you had let your hair grow a little longer and had styled it for the evening. And sure, your lashes have a coat of mascara spread across them. But those are superficial additions. Everything else about your appearance remains relatively unchanged. Your curves are still larger than the beauty queens of high school and college. Your clothes are still relatively inexpensive compared to the chic attire adorned by the Harringtons downstairs. And your smile…

Tentatively you part your lips, and the shadow of your gap immediately emerges into view.

Was Doctor Nelson unable to close in your space? Mrs. Harrington’s words bounce around in your brain like they are part of a game of pinball.

The grip you have on the edges of the porcelain sink tightens, eyes cramming shut. No wonder it had never crossed Steve’s mind that you could be together. You were nothing like the effortlessly beautiful girls he always had on his arm in high school.

October 1984

A shrill screech sounds off from down the hallway, causing your textbooks to clatter to the floor with a resonating thud. Alarmed, you turn quickly towards the sound, but your heart sinks when you take in the source of the commotion.

Nancy Wheeler is clutched around her middle and being twirled in the air by a joyful Steve Harrington. Her reaction has him laughing in a way that he only used to with you. Perfectly styled chestnut locks bounce in front of his forehead as he peers at his girlfriend through a pair of large sunglasses. Nancy thwacks Steve’s arm while his fingers move to grip the small of her back. He leans in to cradle her face. And then his lips are on hers –

You rapidly turn away, bending to pick up your fallen books. Straightening, your thoughts betray you for the thousandth time.

Nancy Wheeler. When Steve first began pursuing her, you thought she would just be another notch in his belt. All the flirting and kissing…surely, he only wanted in her pants. But then months turned into a year, and Steve seemed to genuinely be in love.

And you suppose that is the thing that eats you up the most.

You like Nancy. Even though she’s a year younger than you, she is hardworking and takes her education seriously – a trait that you both share. Plus, Nancy is just plain nice – totally unlike the stuck-up girls Steve had dated in the past. No matter how hard you try, it’s difficult to find any valid reason to dislike her.

Except…Nancy is also naturally beautiful, and you hate how jealousy has creeped into your bones because of it.

She has a petite frame and girl-next-door charm with a perfect smile to match. It appears when Steve whispers all those little I love yous and gazes at her with an affection you’ll never know. The feeling squeezes at your heart and forms a lump in your throat, allowing self-doubt to gnaw its way into your thoughts: “Maybe if you were just a little prettier or a little more charismatic, that could be you instead.”

Hearing the pair continue to flirt across the hall sends your tongue brushing up against your front teeth inside your mouth. The muscle pokes its way between the gap. “No,” you tell yourself as you turn back to see Steve walking off with Nancy tucked lovingly under his arm. “Your brain and your smile make you, you! No one can take that away. And someday, someone will be happy with you just as you are.”

Silent footsteps carry you down the hallway towards your room. Peeking in through the wooden doorway, you find Steve with his back turned. Golden light from beyond the window outlines his figure. Broad shoulders are stooped; locks of dark hair fall forward as his head peers down at something held delicately in his hand.

A subtle shift in your weight sets the floorboards creaking, and the sudden noise causes Steve to flinch. He turns quickly on his heels to find you glancing down at his fingertips.

His cheeks flush, appearing like a deer in headlights. Yet, as Steve quickly moves to refasten the polaroid to its place on the board, he regains his nerve and delivers a comment in the fondest of tones. “It doesn’t quite look the same as the night we were there.”

Your heart begins to hammer against your ribs.

He remembers.

But how do you answer him? How do you admit that no matter how hard you tried to throw that little piece of plastic away, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not when it bared such a striking resemblance to a night that had been so simple and so perfect.

Buying time, you shift towards the record shelf that resides to your right. Pensively, you trace a finger across the stacked spines. Music had been such an important part of your friendship, saving the two of you from many the business dinner, just like the one being hosted today.

Chancing a look over your shoulder, you find that Steve has not moved; his attention is fully focused on you. Those kind eyes wait patiently for you to be ready to speak. As you study his features, your mind suddenly whisks you back to tonight’s dinner table. You recollect how Steve's tanned cheeks had paled at his father’s words. How the curve of his throat had swallowed coarsely and the tendon within had tightened under so much strain.

You know exactly what needs to be said.

June 1985

This is it. Tonight is the end of an era.

With a raised chin, Steve smooths down the satin lapels of his black suit and straightens his matching tie. He takes a long, hard look at himself in the mirror. Staring back at him is the image of an 18-year-old man with perfectly styled hair and expensive attire, yet underneath is a lost boy who grew up too fast.

Steve exhales unsteadily as he checks his watch. Time to go.

But as he makes his way towards the staircase of his home, the harsh sound of an argument rises from the space from below. Steve pauses, heart sinking as he listens in.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet, dear?” exclaims his mother with frustration. “We have to be there in ten minutes!”

A sharp, unfeeling tone answers back. “You know very well why not!”

The tension downstairs grows palpable. “This is your only son’s graduation! It’s a significant accomplishment for him!”

“Significant?!” Mr. Harrington’s already deep voice booms louder. “He barely squeezed by! He slacked off, his grades went to shit, and he got rejected from Tech. What kind of accomplishment is that!”

Steve’s gut churns.

“He’s a teenager!” the woman argues back.

“Well, maybe if you’d kept on top of his behaviour, we wouldn’t be in this situation!” Steve doesn’t need to see the scene unfold to know that his father’s face is flushed, with wide eyes and that vein in his temple threatening to burst.

The feminine voice of his mother scoffs and retaliates, “I can’t very well stay home all the time, now, can I? Not when I need to follow you around and make sure you’re not off screwing your secretary!”

That's it. There’s a storm of emotion brewing inside Steve, and he doesn’t know how it will erupt if he sticks around any longer. He descends the stairs two at a time and slams the front door on his way out. If neither of his parents showed up tonight, so be it!

He plunks himself into the driver’s seat of his burgundy BMW and roughly twists the keys in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life and Steve wastes no time throwing the car into gear. For a moment, his vision is blurred as he poises with an arm behind the passenger’s seat to reverse the vehicle. He quickly blinks the watery obstruction away before speeding off to his high school for one final time.

Once back in the gymnasium of Hawkins High, a standard gown and cap are thrust at Steve to wear and he is ushered to his assigned seat. Triumphant music swells, signalling the beginning of the ceremony causing a pit to settle heavily inside Steve’s stomach.

His knee bounces restlessly beneath the long, silky fabric of his gown as person after person is called to the stage. Steve knows that his mother is sitting a few rows behind with palms poised elegantly on her thighs. An expensive suit and blazer with prominent shoulder pads adorn her figure. Round earrings dwarf her earlobes, and an effortless smile is pasted across painted lips. But Steve also knows that there is a reserved seat beside her that remains unfilled. He doesn’t need to hear it to know that excuses for her husband are being whispered to anyone who will listen.

The sound of your name being called propels Steve back into the present. He watches in awe as you elegantly ascend the stage towards the awaiting principal. The distinct sound of your mom and dad’s cheers from the crowd draws your attention out into the audience. You feign embarrassment, but it’s the gorgeous, full smile that breaks out across your face that shows how truly special this moment is for you.

The principal announces your college plans as you shake his hand and collect your diploma. The accomplishment earns applause from the crowd. And in that moment, with the spotlight framing your features, Steve’s heart swells. He recognizes how hard you’ve worked to earn this moment, and he feels something tug at him from within his chest.

He acted like a giant asshole towards you, choosing popularity and flirty girls over his best friend. Yet, despite how he treated you, you never let it stop you from being the best version of yourself. Not once did you bend to social norms and now look at how bright you shine.

You were the one person who cared about him unconditionally. Together you’d jam out to music and ride bikes until dusk. You were the person who saved him from the monotony of business dinners…and you were the person who calmed him when he felt afraid. That tug inside his chest grows stronger. Steve selfishly wishes he still had you; still had the person he’s loved all along.

After several more students pass, it’s finally Steve’s turn to be called up. He stands, straightening his gown before taking a deep breath. When he climbs the steps and looks out into the audience, he doesn’t search for his mother. Instead, he searches for you. But when he finds you sitting there with diploma in hand, he sees you looking on with indifference. And it’s then that Steve is forced to accept that having you back in his life is just not meant to be.

Gathering your courage, you shift until your body is fully aligned with Steve. Your words are spoken with utmost honesty. “I’m sorry that you had to deal with that, your father – at dinner.”

A corner of Steve’s mouth turns down subtly. “Thanks,” he replies, shaking his head, “but it’s all par for the course.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand before folding his arms protectively against his chest. His gaze shifts meekly away from yours.

“Still,” you press, wringing your fingers together and taking a step forward. Regardless of what has happened in the past, that pull inside you needs Steve to understand that you would never take sides with his father. “Careers and degrees don’t define who we are.”

You catch Steve’s lip pinching briefly in the form of a smile. His eyes glance back up at you.

A heavy silence descends, and you watch the way that Steve regards you. There is no scrutiny, only something that can only be described as affection.

“How do you do it?” The sound of his voice breaks through the quiet and makes you aware of how little distance there actually is between you.

“Do what?” you manage.

Steve stands up a little straighter, smiles a little broader. “How do you always manage to lift me up? Make me feel better about myself?”

The muscles in your eyebrows arch, lips parting in soundless shock. That rapid heartbeat in your chest now thrums loudly in your ears.

“I never realized how much you gave me until it was completely gone,” he adds.

A thickness forms in your throat. Your brain is a jumble of words that plop onto your tongue, but you have no idea how to express them.

Your silence and lack of objection provide Steve with the opportunity to continue. He rakes a hand through his thick hair nervously. “I guess you’re wondering why I showed up tonight…after all this time.” He then speaks your name, soft, tender. Sincere. “I’m sorry.”

The dam breaks and a strangled breath chokes out from your lungs. The two simple words that you’ve waited seven long years to hear have been spoken at last.

The room around you blurs. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“Look,” Steve gestures with one hand, shifting to rest his hips against your windowsill. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just had to -”

You honestly don’t know what comes over you. A heat swirls up from inside, spreading like wildfire from your toes to your cheeks. With it, erupts several years of pent-up emotion, emotion that you thought you had locked safely away.

“Dammit, Steve!” you exclaim in a tone so raw that even you don’t recognize it. “You ripped my heart out when you chose Tommy H. on that first day of high school!”

Steve recoils at your intensity, yet winces from your truths. He hasn’t come here to justify his actions from the past. “I know,” he admits, hurt evident in his creased brow. “I have no excuse for treating you the way I did. I got so caught up with my ego and then in all the crazy shit that happened in town that by the time I came to my senses, you wouldn’t even look at me. I should have sought you out, but the more time that passed, the weirder it felt to even try.”

Anger subsides into heartache. “I would have listened,” you murmur. Tears prickle at your lash line. Steve’s face visibly falls. “I only kept my distance so I wouldn’t get hurt. I still cared for you, Steve. You were my best friend, and a part of me always hoped that you would remember that.”

Years of regret are etched across Steve’s face. “I’ve missed you more than you could ever know,” he confesses. This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him since that night when you were kids.

The familiar pull inside your chest returns, but this time it urges you to let yourself be vulnerable too. “I’ve missed you too. So much.”

Steve allows himself to smile. Hopeful. “Do you think we can start over? I know I’ve fucked up, but would you be willing to give me another shot?”

There’s no apprehension within you, no sense of unease. You nod affirmatively and return him a smile.

Steve’s demeanour brightens, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he moves to the side of your bed. He kneels and lowers himself to sit on the floor. His squared shoulders rest against the side of your mattress, much taller than when you were kids. You observe him curiously as Steve slides his denim-clad knees upwards and rests his forearms atop them. Toes wiggle against the carpet in black dress socks. Peering up at you with a cheeky grin, Steve motions for you to join.

Your eyes narrow fondly at the familiarity, crossing the short distance to gingerly set your body down next to his.

Steve turns his gaze on you, swirls of green and brown circle his irises. Then, he reaches into his blazer, fishing for the pocket. A second later, his hand produces a cherished sight: the Walkman.

Reaching in again, he retrieves two sets of headphones. Joy shines through the rosy tint of your cheeks.

“Care for a listen?” he grins back, eyes crinkling at the corners. With a wink he adds, “For old time’s sake.”

Steve extends a hand, allowing the metallic band of a headset to dangle on his outstretched index finger. Reaching, you accept and settle the orange foam pads overtop your ears. Steve mirrors your actions and double checks the connections.

“Ready?” he motions with raised eyebrows.

Your enthusiastic nod is his green light.

You ready yourself to take in the music by turning your focus to your lap. The play button clicks and the next thing you know, the funky synth of “Let’s Go” fills your ears.

A warmth bubbles through you, and you release a wet laugh. Turning back to face Steve, you find him already admiring your reaction. Playfully, you knock your knee against his, offering him a broad smile that places your gap on full display.

And just as the chorus rolls into the second verse, Steve reaches to remove his headphones. You follow his lead, concerned that something might be wrong. Strands of chestnut hair stick up comically on Steve’s head; a stark juxtaposition to the serious expression that now stares back at you.

The quaint room has grown shadows as the evening sun begins to fade. Your pulse quickens with the intensity of the moment.

“I’m glad you didn’t get it closed in,” Steve finally remarks, words calm. Deliberate.

“Huh?” you utter, your brows marrying as you try to decipher his meaning.

“What my mom said earlier. Your gap.”

Your tongue brushes over top of the feature inside your mouth.

“Your smile,” Steve’s chest expands as he takes an unsteady breath. “It’s…”

Unique?

Cool?

Nice?

“Beautiful.”

Oh.

As you absorb his words, you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are; how the small distance buzzes with a magnetic charge. You admire the gentle slope of his nose and the birthmarks that dot his complexion. The scent of his aftershave and something distinctly Steve surrounds you. Once again, that pull inside your chest resurfaces, encircling your heart and tugging with all its might in the direction of Steve. Your Steve.

Soft words break you out of your trance. “You know, I think it has always been something more than friendship.”

Butterflies explode inside your stomach. Your insecurities melt away.

“That evening in the park,” continues Steve, eyes searching your face. “I felt something that I didn’t know I could; like you were my home, and I wanted to stay there forever.”

It hadn’t just been you.

Steve then places a hand tentatively on yours. Your skin tingles with the heat of his touch. “Did you feel it too?” he implores, trepidatiously, as if he were a fourteen-year-old boy again.

You nod and, with a whisper, say, “I don’t think I ever stopped.”

“Neither did I.”

And then the two of you are moving. Leaning together, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug Steve tightly. Steve responds in kind, large palms splaying across your back and pulling you flush against him as if you fit together like two lost pieces of the same puzzle.

Unspoken words of love transpire between you as you hold each other close.

And in that moment, you both understand that home is the person who accepts you just the way you are.

Thank you for reading! If you've made it this far, I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🩷 And please consider reblogging your favorite fics 😊

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

[wordbunch]

dad Boromir headcanons

a/n: more specifically this is girl dad boromir!! purely self indulgent and based on my personal fantasies. oops. still hope u think it's cute and leave it a nice comment/reblog/sth... 🥰💌

for a few days after she is born, Boromir just walks around on the verge of happy tears

needless to say he is wrapped around her pinky finger from the very first second of knowing her

nobody except you, him, Faramir and your fellowship friends are allowed to hold her (maybe don't let Merry and Pippin babysit immediately)

his protectiveness grows tenfold, both of you and your daughter

"now i have two queens of my heart"

my headcanon is that Gondor hasn't had any princesses born in a loooong time so historically it would also be a very exciting occasion!

Boromir is 101% hands-on and very quickly catches onto many tips and tricks for caring for an infant, all courtly protocols be damned! that is his babygirl and his wife and just you try keeping him away!

no matter his obligations and plans, if she falls asleep on him, or clutching a strand of his hair, his finger, ear, clothes, anything, you can bet he isn't moving anywhere

he covers her tiny ears if he hears anyone nearby uttering what he deems inappropriate words (his standards for inappropriate words also changed significantly)

comes up with the best stories and changes his voice to fit different characters

if your daughter's first word is anything close to 'dad', he will all but proclaim a national holiday complete with a feast istg

aunties Éowyn and Arwen love love having their little girl time with her and will teach her different, but amazing things respectfully

Boromir does his very best to openly express love and affection towards your babygirl - lord knows how he grew up

you know sometimes he isn't sure what to do or how to say something, but your heart swells while watching him give his best

your love for each other deepened as you watched each other grow into the new phase of life

for real, he was nothing but loving towards you before, but now...

he becomes so attuned to your needs it blows your mind

little appreciation gifts are a very common occurence

while you try to keep the bath time relatively tidy and not cause a flood every time, Boromir makes it his mission to make it as fun and chaotic as possible

the little princess of Gondor has the cutest clothes and toys imaginable

especially when she starts to express her wishes, Boromir will do anything to make them come true

"my love, don't you think she is a little too young for a pony?"

"but she said she wanted one!"

"...she was talking in her sleep, Boromir"

"see, it is her dream to have a pony!"

luckily you win and she doesn't get a pony at the ripe old age of barely 2, but you partially cave in and say she can feed and pet ponies when you visit your friends in the Shire

those family outings are always so much fun and some of your favorite memories

everytime your girl is being very stubborn, and your husband is exasperated, you like to remind him she's his daughter through and through

when she grows up she will take no shit but will be so kind and warm and interested in so many things

truly the best of combinations, Boromir and you almost congratulate each other on doing a splendid job

tagging some friends just because

@lady-of-imladris

@sotwk

@starladyy

@queenmeriadoc

@fenharel-enaste

@entishramblings

@coraleethroughthelookingglass

@shirefantasies

@asianbutnotjapanese

@ironmandeficiency

@glorf1ndel

@aidansloth

[snoopyhq]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ARCANE CHARACTERS AND THEIR POKÉMON TEAMS !!!

includes: viktor // jayce // mel // caitlyn // vi // jinx // ekko

a/n: if you guys want a part two with any of the other characters, feel free to lmk which ones :D !!! i had a lot of fun with this, and it kind of went into a whole AU direction with all my ramblings. oops!

tagging @anexcellentshot <3

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VIKTOR

For his team, I wanted a collection of 'mons that would kill it in a steampunk themed show, so here we are!

GOLURK

Its lore centers around it being an ancient Pokémon built by an ancient civilization, so not much is known about it

To me, this Pokémon would be perfect for Viktor due to its aura of mystery and its creation by human hands

It also fits well with Viktor's arc when he becomes the Arcane Herald (glowing eyes, larger stature, commanding presence, associations with otherwordly abilities)

LUXRAY

I'm a firm believer in the fact that Viktor is a cat person, so of COURSE he gets a feline Pokémon

Luxray is an electric type cat. Need I say more?

Viktor's Luxray hisses at anyone who looks at him wrong. It's very funny. A total lapcat and demands his attention at all times

Everyone else who isn't Viktor can get fucked

KLEFKI

END KLEFKI HATE 2025

Why do people hate Klefki?! Being so serious right now btw... like are they just allergic to fun and whimsy or what. IDGAF if its just a key that became a Pokémon, it's one of my faves forever and always

Anyways. As for its relevance to Viktor, I see it as sort of being a good assistant for him in the lab and such. Carries his keys, yes, but also his tools for him

ALAKAZAM

I'm pretty sure it's the most intelligent Pokémon, and Viktor is a whole genuis

The dots connect!

Alakazam likes watching Viktor work on his various projects, and it oftens plays chess with him. A very intellectually stimulating experience for them both. The score currently is very close, although whose ahead, we'll never know :-)

GALARIAN CORSOLA

OK SO ORIGIN STORY !!!

We know Viktor grew up in the Undercity, and where he was shown had a river with cave systems nearby. I believe him and Corsola found each other the same fateful day he met Rio

They see each other as kindred spirits, having suffered in the environment they were dealt. Viktor is protective of his Corsola, and caring for it makes him feel a sense of accomplishment

Very bittersweet

MAGEARNA

A Pokémon that was also built by human hands, specifically by scientists according to its lore

It also has an ability that makes it a wonderful caretaker of people

That falls in line with Viktor's motivation to use Hextech to improve the lives of the less fortunate, and this Pokémon fits his aesthetic so well. I think Magearna is a wonderful way to end his team with :3

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ JAYCE

His character grew on me. Jayce Talis, you should've been born into a shoujo, not forced to shounen </3

TIMBURR

Very helpful fella to have around a lab! Construction sites! Factories! That's the Talis family specialty!

His first Pokémon, and the two often played with wooden building blocks and LEGOs in his childhood

Specifically choosing the first evolution because I can see Jayce's Timburr growing alongside him in the craft and one day evolving into a Gurdurr, and perhaps even a Conkeldurr

Or maybe it can stay a baby, who knows?

HERDIER

Looks like Heimerdinger. I am GREATLY amused by this

Is the Talis family dog, and followed Jayce when he went off to the Academy

Always sighing like its got bills to pay but that's because it has to watch over Jayce away from home 😭 Get him a martini (dog-friendly) and a long vacation ASAP

Big theme of family and Pokémon with Jayce here hehe

TINKATUFF

Another great Pokémon to help Jayce out with his endeavors!

This one has the most attitude of his team, and only helps with extremely ambitious, daring projects

It wants to improve, and taking up easy shortcuts is an insult

Overall, a diva

He loves it anyways, and always makes sure to express his appreciation because its efforts DO pay off handsomely

DARMANITAN

Jayce works in a forge at some point in the series, so having a Darmanitan with him just fits

It can withstand the high temperatures and has the muscle to help him out

I was debating between this fella and Heatmor but I like Darmanitan's rotund look better, sorry Heatmor

CARBINK

Very mystical Pokémon. Parallels the Mage that saved Jayce and Ximena when he was a child

Also resembles a Hextech crystal lowkey

MELMETAL

I think it's SO funny that it has "Mel" in its name

Also, more continuation of Pokémon that can dabble in craftsmanship

Evolved from a Meltan that snuck into his luggage when he was moving to the Academy district and refused to leave

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ MEL

I wanted a team that serves both cunt AND power, so here is Mel's team! Looking for a transparent BG, full-body picture of her was actually so hard. What the flip. I thought it'd be in her Arcane Fandom Page Gallery, but it wasn't. AUGH

DELPHOX

Fox motif

Also a mystical one too, since its lore states that its burn marks were used in divination long ago

Mel being a mage means she can connect with her Delphox on a deeper level

KOMMO-O

Noxians are people who value raw, physical strength

Ambessa is canonically a warmonger. Mel having a fighting type Pokémon like Kommo-o goes well with that lore

It's powerful, dual-type with DRAGON, and just radiates aura

Also, its scale patterns and her braids can sort of match in style and it also works with Mel's gold accents!

UMBREON

Evolved from her Eevee

It happened around the time Mel left home for Piltover for the first time. Their bond runs deep

Hates being confined to a Pokéball, so it roams out and about at all times

SNEASEL

Devious Troublemaker #1

Smart AND sneaky

It's resourceful with its wits and stealth, like Mel

Tolerates her Fezandipiti

FEZANDIPITI

Devious Troublemaker #2

Abuses its pretty privilege to get away with EVERYTHING (it works)

Best buds with her Sneasel

INDEEDEE

A Pokémon that "never leaves its trainer's side", so it makes sure she stays taken care of and GOD KNOWS she deserves a break

Secretary Pokémon basically

Keeps tracks of her papers, blueprints, speeches, and council talking points

Hovers over her during the duration of those meetings and makes sure she's comfortable

Also really, really good at snooping around and finding out the most incriminating secrets. Memorized everything to the letter

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ CAITLYN

Firm believer that she would be a competitive player in a modern world.

FROSLASS

Cold as hell (figuratively AND metaphorically)

Just like Caitlyn

It's a feminine Pokémon and it's TERRIFYING, I love creepy/non-conventional Pokémon lore

Highkey judgemental. Has purposefully iced out a council membor on more than one occasion. Thinks they're useless

SINISTEA

They're kind of twinning. Tell me you guys see the vision too

Like... same side part and everything !!!

Tea parties and they're both the prettiest princesses. They also talk about the best way to 'get rid of' Salo. It's great

Caitlyn never utilizes her Sinistea in battle. It follows her around instead, offers an off-putting vibe to the function

YUNGOOS

Yes, this is because of the mongoose comment

Also I think it's really funny that you have these elegant and put-together Pokémon on her team, and then there's this guy

Bites ankles

DECIDUEYE

She's a sharpshooter and so is Decidueye

Had it since it was a wee Rowlet, and the runt of its litter (nestmates? flock? i don't know bird terminology)

With her in every shooting competition and practice she attends

Her ace Pokémon. They're so in sync, she doesn't even need to voice moves aloud anymore

GROWLITHE

Enforcer ☹️

CORVISQUIRE

It's intelligent, even compared to other bird Pokémon similar to it

Also has that air of innate curiosity

Caitlyn had her whole detective thing in Season One of the show, so her having a curious corvisquire on her team makes sense to me

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VI

If Vi has no lovers, I'm DEAD!!! Literally became one of my favorites the second she showed up one screen. I’m also the eldest sibling so maybe I connect to those characters more… Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen is another absolute faves of mine.

URSHIFU (RAPID STRIKE STYLE)

Matches her boxing fighting style

Very focused and disciplined

Her go-to sparring partner

LOKIX

A good kicker is needed to balance out a team of mostly fist-to-fists combat

Makes sure she does not skip leg day

Not that Vi would ever but it's nice to have someone look after her like an elder sibling for once

ALCREMIE

Similar to Caitlyn having Yungoos on her team, I find it funny to have Alcremie be the contrats on Vi's team

Her calling Caitlyn "cupcake" all the time? Please

Vi dotes on her Alcremie

First Pokémon she caught that wasn't in the Undercity, so it's a little bit of a primadonna, but who cares? It's adorable

Head chef of the team because picturing this little 1'00" Pokémon bustle around a kitchen area and whipping up delicacies makes me laugh

RIOLU

The youngest on the team and has the most to prove

Or at least, that's Riolu's mindset

Follows her Urshifu around like a little shadow, eager to learn and become the strongest of 'em all

Will evolve into a Lucario one day

CHARMELEON

Complements her color palette

I firmly believe she would choose a fire-type starter in any game route

Also has an insatiable fighting spirit, which I believe can be properly nurtured with Vi as its trainer and the rest of her team

Pairs up with her Riolu the most during sparring practices

ALOLAN MAROWAK

Both Vi and Marowak lost their mothers at a young age

Both watched their mothers die, even if the circumstances were slightly different

Not having a Cubone that evolved into a Marowak on her team would've been such a missed opportunity

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ JINX

Her team was the first one I finished putting together in my Google Docs. Very happy with how this one turned out.

BOMBIRDIER

The word "bomb" is kinda in the name

AND that fuckass bird is an asshole, according to it's Pokédex entry

I think it's hilarious, and fits Jinx's antics very well, especially with her first scene after the timeskip in season one

PANCHAM

The Pokedex entry for this one says it finds a Pangoro to look up to and trains relentlessly to get stronger like its mentor

Very much a reflection of how Isha looks (looked) up to Jinx, and wanted to be like her :')

NICKIT

Only surviving kit in the litter of Silco's Theivul

Naturally, it became Jinx’s Pokémon

Messes with her Espurr all the time. Gets lightly scolded, pretends to feel bad, and gets right back to it when her back is turned

Brings her scraps of metal and other shiny valuables it nicked (haha!) from unsuspecting citizens

HISUIAN TYPHLOSION

NOT A GOOD YEAR FOR MY BOY TYPHLOSION

Justice for him for REAL.

But anyways. Colorful flames, extravagant, explosions. It basically spells itself out

Keeps her Nickit in check when it gets too rough with her Espurr

INFERNAPE

Her signature calling card is the graffiti monkey

Her monkey bomb/gadgets !!! Motifs...

The most disciplined of her Pokémon

ESPURR

Look at it and tell me it isn't experiencing the horrors(tm) and the voices(tm) at all times

I think Jinx could see herself in it in a way, and having Espurr on her team is kind of a grounding experience for both of them

They save each other

This lil guy is her PRIDE AND JOY ok

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ EKKO

Ekko deserves the entire world and more, I'm being so serious right now. Ekko 4 President.

DRILBUR

Little guy who just enjoys digging. Yeah, put him on the team

Would be very helpful for finding trinkets that Ekko could bring to Benzo's (in a happier timeline, they continue spending their days like this)

When the canon events happen, its role now becomes finding/forming tunnels and escape routes

NOCTOWL

Scout in the air

Goes along with Ekko's owl motif :D

Caitlyn already had Decidueye, and I feel like a tougher, more rugged looking Pokémon like a Noctowl fits the boy savior better

His team is a lot of earthy tones I've realized

Undercity Represent 🗣️🗣️🗣️

CELEBI

Ekko's connection with time, the four seconds, etc. etc.

Celebi is a time traveling Pokémon. It's perfect :3

I think he's the only character with a mythical Pokémon on his team, and you know what? He deserves it. Big Ekko fan! He can have a mythical Pokémon, as a treat

HOUNDOOM

If aura farming was a Pokémon

Looks tough, is an even tougher fighter

The rear-guard of his team. It looks out for the other ones and makes sure they all get to safety whenever it's brought along during one of Ekko's missions

Acts as a heater for the others and Ekko himself

Completely chill with letting Noctowl perch on its back

SKWOVET

Ok hear me out, this is the comedic effect guy

I headcanon that he pulls a Meowth in the anime and taught himself to speak human. NOT for the pursuit of romance this time, but for the pursuit of gossip

One of the tiniest ones recorded, so it sneaks around really easily

Like Mel's Indeedee, it gathers talk and whispers that otherwise would not see the light of day, and relays it all back to Ekko

It keeps him up to date on movements of other political factions and certain people (Jinx)

Has grown spoiled on all the treats it gets fed from being really damn good at its job

KROOKODILE

Found by Ekko during one of his explorations underground with his Drilbur

Battled against his Drilbur, and then his Houndoom when they broke up into the surface

Was eventually caught, and now goes on side quests with Ekko's Drilbur

Gives Ekko some peace of mind knowing that Drilbur has a bigger, more formidable friend watching out for it

Totes the coolest, rivalling Houndoom in levels of chillness

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wild Love 🔞 TEASER

A simple taste is not enough for him.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Smut, Tentacles, Knotting, ridiculous amounts of cum, very messy ordeal, it starts soft but gets a little rougher at some point, our alien boy ain't a quitter, he goes until his body gives out, unprotected sex but it's nor mating season so no babies, implied breeding kink, biting, cumplay, he's a growler oop-

Length: ???

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: a crumb of proof because people think I'm not writing on it anymore

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He's seen it before, and yet, it's entirely different now that it's you he's got positioned like this.

He can't be too rough, can he? You're delicate, fragile, he doesn't want to hurt you and yet, you've also proven to be much more than just what you appear to be. Your body is stronger than one might believe, and your mind has even greater strength.

Full of surprises. But right now, he wants you to be full of him.

With himself technically not in mating season, there's no amount of his translucent white that could ever put a child into your womb- and maybe that's for the best. That doesn't mean that he doesn't find the act of it any less appealing however, the thought alone making his painfully erect length jump in anticipation.

That, and the sight of your bare body squirming, small cunt stretched by one of his appendages that's abandoned its natural instinct to hold you close to his pelvis- instead now pushing inside you as far as it goes, bulging up your lower stomach, moving rhythmically to the beat of your heart pumping. Your back arches, spine curving off the bed, and his hands can't help but trace your sides, always seeking you out.

And he watches, mesmerized, how you writhe around like a higher being not meant to be seen by someone like him, while his palms grab at your soft chest, skin warm and inviting, and it feels forbidden.

But you're his, his bite, his marks, his love prove it to everyone, and he'll renew these things over and over again so no one can ever tell him he's not taking you seriously. You're more than a lover, more than a body, more than just a companion.

His second tentacle unravels from your thigh now as well, leaving a trail of arousal behind, before it runs over your clit, uneven texture of it causing your hips to jump and mouth to open. His mind fills with thoughts and fantasies even more obscene than what's happening right now-

But he's got time for that. Maybe one day he'll feel your mouth wrap around him.

Right now, he's growing impatient, he wants more, wants to see your core stretch open on his cock instead, wants to see your body shake with every thrust he delivers. What are you doing to him? This is a simple act of lust, and yet, it doesn't feel like it.

Nothing about this is simple.

He wants to ruin you, exhaust you, fill you up with his seed and let your skin soak up his scent. You deserve the best moment of euphoria he can give you, because your pleasure is his.

He's not like the rest of his kind, after all.

He wants to fuck you stupid until your head is filled with nothing but him, so you'll get a taste of the torture you've put him through. Only if he makes you understand the sheer primal need he's been suffering through these past few days will he finally be able to accept your love to its fullest, only then can he be sure he's really the best fit for you. He's already shown you most of what his love can be-

Can you handle this kind of love as well?

[acecasinova]

I really wanna know more about your vampire oc Lazarus(?) they’re so cute!!

Yesssssss my boy Lazarusssssss~

I love him so much lmaooooo (Wish I had like, a neat lil info page for him- I need to finish that rip)

Laz is my scrunky lil guy! He started as a dnd character for a (still ongoing but nearing the end) Curse of Strahd campaign and ended up being the Token Guy in a party of ladies (Truly the game of strong/scary ladies and like, wet rat guys lmaoooo) who also ends up being the PC most in distress too sdfghjkl He's a shadow monk and a bitch ass lil punk~

....This is gunna be a big one actually so I'll put most of it under a readmore,,,,

Because he's ALSO got a modern AU that got spun out of a hiatus in the game, which fits in w/ him very well but also just is So Much Worse for him rippppp (there's whump in his og dnd universe but it's toned down)

He'd been in Barovia for ~7 years before the party hired his mom the paladin who's barn he squats in and he tagged along~ Everyone in Barovia just assumes he's her "guard dog", so when he snaps at people, they'll just talk to her over him (and TBH it doesn't help that she'll scruff him or tell him to drop it if he's biting someone oops) and until recently, it was a bit of an open secret in Valaki that the owner of the orphanage outside of town had a vampire under her thumb, but they tolerated it bc he (usually) listens to her and just offloads his morality to her

Lazarus was also already a vampire BEFORE he found his way through the Mists but he was completely feral before Eurydice (our paladin) got him to start staying in her barn. Like, can't read, can't write, couldn't or didn't speak any Common, growling and snarling in the woods feral. He didn't remember anything about what he'd been doing before and was really blase and indifferent about his vampiric status (mostly just.... Didn't want Strahd to find out there was another vampire in his territory and REALLY offended if someone insinuated he was actually a spawn and not a full vampire lmfao) even though the party and Esmeralda started gently trying to pry about how he "clearly" died young. ....He did NOT in face, die young. But he argued that if he DID, then that was fine because he's not a stupid weak living person anymore and everyone was like mmmmmmm should we unpack that??

We found out later that Lazarus can actually eat other vampires and when he DOES, he physically grows/ages and gets a little stronger. ....And then we found out Laz is actually a weird little flesh-crafted vampire that was made by ritual! And he's never been alive in the first place! (This also means the wizard is our One Single Party Member who was actually born, because the Warlock is an Awakened Mimic, Laz was a test tube baby ritual summon, and our paladin actually hatched from a gourd (even though she looks like a regular aasimar)

The DM/plot has put him through the WRINGER though- he gets the shit beat out of him a lot (made worse because everyone else has some kind of aura against undead or vampires lmao) and he fucked up and killed a guard who was running away WHILE Strahd and his ilk were in town, so they made an example of him and decided to "re-train him" at the Castle, which was mmmmmm tasty tasty~

One of the BIG ones was "Kindness"- a big, scary Conquest Paladin and one of Strahd's "Iron Nails" (the DM's rework of the Brides to make them the embodiment of each PC's fears) who took an interest in Lazarus. SHE wanted him as HER dog, not Eurydice, and SHE was the one to take him into custody after he killed the guard. She was the one guarding him while everyone figured out what to do with him (and going in and just exerting power over him for any little thing she wanted to) and the one who brought him to Ravenloft after Eurydice kinda sorta signed custody over to Strahd whoopssss

....And she DID kind of get in his head because Laz likes to lie to himself and say he believes "Might Makes Right" and Kindness scared him into instinctively wanting to listen to her because she WAS stronger. Kindness could choke him out like it was NOTHING and he landed a hit with his claws that did absolutely nothing to her, which scared the SHIT out of him (This turned out to be because she had armor or an aura that made her immune to bludgeoning and slashing damage, and hid VERY well that she was weak to piercing damage) While he was bound and gagged at the castle, Strahd also leveraged the orphanage's safety against him to force Laz to let him kinda sleeper agent charm him and mmmmmmmm it was so tasty~ He couldn't say what happened but he couldn't say he couldn't say, so it was a lot of him being cagey and frustrated~

BUT he did eventually, finally overcome what happened and snap out of it in a fight that went VERY sideways and he got to gut Kindness and tear at her throat!!!

In the Modern AU.... Modern AU-wise, he's uhhhhhh in a worse spot. He's a bit more defiant and argumentative here (hard to believe with how many fights he picks normally, but usually he ends up shutting up and letting someone else talk) Still squats on Eurydice's property but it's her shed in her backyard lmao~

....Or he DID because in the modern AU Kindness is the chief of police and scooped him up off the street, so most of what I draw is him trapped in her basement lmaoooo

He still killed some folks- including a vampire cop (which tipped her off) but his hobbies are more making fake IDs, trespassing, and making punk accessories but he's also VERY easy to disappear because he doesn't really exist in the first place lol.

Kindness still likes forcing him to obey her and breaking him in, but there's more of an emphasis on the "dog" part, because she's done a lot of K9 animal training in the police, so she's trying to make him her little "enforcer" pet. (What vampire wouldn't want a vampire who can eat other vampires under their control?)

Lazarus fucking HATES this, but Kindness knows how all his abilities work and how to counter or cancel them (and there's an actual day/night cycle) so he's shit out of luck and pretty isolated. And she doesn't even let him shapeshift into a wolf that much!

Laz ends up duct taped or muzzled a looooot, though whether she's leaving him alone shut away somewhere or actively invading his personal space and trying to grind his pride into the dust varies

[criblovr]

₊ ⊹ baby steps ₊ ⊹

pairing: cg!rhaenyra targaryen x little!alicent hightower

summary: alicent has been exploring her smaller side with rhaenyra for almost two years now. it’s an up and down journey for her up but today, alicent takes a big leap

tags: caregiver rhaenyra, baby alicent, pacis, gentle rhaenyra, diapers, bottles, angst, hurt/comfort, inner turmoil, small mention of alicent’s mother’s death

notes: requested by anon! sorry if this was rushed :( not edited either oops. i hope u like it at least!!!

Alicent’s journey in exploring her younger side had been almost two years in the making.

She spent the majority of her days with Rhaenyra. Whether that being held and rocked, or simply sitting beside her as Rhaenyra as she fiddled with her gown.

The process had been slow and difficult, she could not deny that. She had lashed out, cried, left Rhaenyra for several weeks, or spent an entire day small, in the arms of Rhaenyra.

The Queen was patient and caring nonetheless. She never spoke of ill of her behavior and only continued to be gentle and soft with the red head.

It was frustrating at first, Alicent would kick and scream and Rhaenyra sat there, with a kind smile, waiting for the tantrum to end.

And after almost a year, her crying fits and tantrums lessened. Crying became a cry for a bottle, tantrums became an indicator Alicent was to be put down for a nap.

Soon enough, Alicent looked forward to being laid down in her crib, to be held on Rhaenyra’s hip and gently bounced, and to have her dummy be placed in her mouth.

Seven hells, she loved her pacifier. (Even if she argued with Rhaenyra that she didn’t care for it.

The journey became so much smoother for Rhaenyra and for Alicent.

During bedtime, Rhaenyra held Alicent in her lap, reading her old Valyrian children books. Watching with her half lidded eyes as Rhaenyra flipped the pages and read the Valyrian words out loud.

She hadn’t known much Valyrian. She had been taught only a small portion of growing up and learned to speak a few words from Rhaenyra as teenagers.

It was still enjoyable to hear Rhaenyra speak her mother’s tongue.

But there was a word in particular that put Alicent on edge.

For the first few times, of their readings together, Alicent didn’t think much of ‘muña.’ She was so small during them that she didn’t pay attention to the meanings of the words, enjoying more the sounds that came from Rhaenyra than the storyline itself.

Then, as she held onto Rhaenyra, she puzzled the word and meaning together. Muña meant mother.

She had whined and wiggled in Rhaenyra’s grasp, hoping she’d get the queue that she wanted to go to bed. And she had. Rhaenyra closed the book and got Alicent comfortable in her cot. Rhaenyra patted her bottom and Alicent pretended to fall asleep.

In her head, each thought ran a mile a minute. It was all confusing, especially stuck between big and small. She wanted to cry out, for Rhaenyra to come and hold her and actually put her to sleep, but the bigger side of Alicent wanted to bolt.

What was Rhaenyra’s intentions when reading her those mother & child books? She felt the anxiety building up in her chest.

xxxx

Alicent’s mother had died early in her age. She was only 14, moving to King’s Landing shortly after.

Her death sadden Alicent, for years she spent her time in the Grand Sept, praying for her mother back. She was old enough to know that that was not possible, but she prayed anyway.

Alicent never thought of Rhaenyra as her ‘mother,’ she was her closest friend. It felt odd even thinking of her in that way. But— the way ‘muña’ rolled off Rhaenyra’s tongue. The way she said it with the softest tone, holding Alicent gently.

Was Rhaenyra her mother? Her weirdly formed mother? It didn’t feel right.

Nor did she think she could ever call her mother. Alicent was not a teenager, she was a defined woman. But Alicent wasn’t a woman with Rhaenyra. She felt like a little girl. She felt like Rhaenyra’s… baby.

That meant Rhaenyra was indeed her mother then, no?Rhaenyra clothed, bathed, fed her. It didn’t feel right, though. She felt like she was somehow forgetting about her mother.

So, weeks went on. Alicent felt fussier than ever, waking up during the night and having Rhaenyra put her back to bed. Cried more when having baths. It felt like their progress was going backwards. All she had in mind was ‘muña.’ And the embarrassing desire to call Rhaenyra— mummy. It happened quick.

She was being bottle-fed, something that made Alicent feel incredibly small, so easily. Rhaenyra rubbed her back gently, humming a soft tone. She looked at Alicent with pure admiration.

Alicent thought, “mummy.” Thank the gods she hadn’t said it out loud. But she had said it in her head, she thought of Rhaenyra as mummy.

After that, her smaller counterpart only thought of ‘her mummy.’ It frustrated to no end, if she could speak to this side of herself she would. She could only burn red of embarrassment. She’d constantly wanted to cry out, hold her hands up and call for her mummy.

And would Rhaenyra think ill of her? No, she couldn’t possibly— right? Rhaenyra held the most vulnerable side of her, nurtured it. Rhaenyra would not think ill of her.

The urge to call for her mummy became strong and constant.

xxxx

Alicent had gotten a nappy change, she hated wearing them, always cried throughout the entire process. Rhaenyra coo’ed, feeling sympathy for the small girl.

Rhaenyra knew it was difficult for her, so she always made sure to be quick and gentle with her.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s all done, I promise.”

Rhaenyra picked her up from the mat, laying her close to chest. Alicent continued to cry, but it lessened. “Oh, I know, I’m so mean, Nyra just wants you clean, sweet girl. It’s all done.”

Alicent sniffled, moving her head slightly to get in a better position. Rhaenyra knew her nap time wasn’t until later but she felt bad. Alicent had a difficult few weeks. They’d speak when Alicent was older and Alicent brushed it off.

Rhaenyra knew Alicent long enough to know something was bothering her but she couldn’t vocalize it. She did the best with what she had, her love for her friend. She continued to care for her.

Rhaenyra doesn’t swaddle Alicent during nap times usually, mostly because it’s warmer during the day than night and she doesn’t want her to overheat, but she sensed some pressure around her would help to calm her.

As she held Alicent on her hip, she opened the windows of her chambers. After, she grabbed one of Alicent’s thin swaddles and place Alicent on her bed.

Of course, Alicent cried but Rhaenyra hurriedly placed the blanket underneath her. She wrapped Alicent’s arms around herself and began to wrap her tightly, but gently.

Having had birthed multiple children and cared for them, she had mastered the arts of swaddling.

Soon, Alicent began to lower her cries, the pressure having calmed her down almost immediately.

“There’s my happy girl. Nyra is going to put you down for a nap, okay?”

Rhaenyra almost didn’t hear it. She was adjusting the swaddle on Alicent’s body when the little girl mumbled something. Something that Rhaenyra made her hairs stand.

Alicent whined again, and said, “mummy.”

It was muffled and not exactly clear, Alicent wasn’t the best at speaking when she was this small. But she said it. Rhaenyra couldn’t brush past it. Because Alicent had most definitely called Rhaenyra mummy.

As Alicent’s caregiver, Rhaenyra still had a duty to care for her. And even if she wanted to say, “Alicent, what did you say? Did you mean to say that?”

She didn’t.

Alicent was incredibly small and still— fussy. She needed to put her down for a nap. And when Alicent was down for a nap, she’d let herself spiral about it. She wasn’t going to throw Alicent out of her small state. She would never.

Oh but she felt this warm feeling in her tummy come alive. She could not understand it. She’s been called ‘mummy’ by her children, it’s not a foreign word to her. But it meant something completely different coming from Alicent.

She felt conflicted on how she should react. Truthfully, she felt immense joy. Joy she did not fully understand yet. It made this kind of relationship with Alicent so much more intimate, so much more raw and beautiful.

She would proudly wear the title of mummy if it meant she was Alicent’s. All she ever wanted for her friend was to be cared for. She had seen the grief Alicent went through when she lost her mother. And the grief every moment her father spoke to her in the harsh tone he had for her.

At their age, they did not have the authority to speak up. Rhaenyra was princess of Dragonstone but yet, she could not confront the Hand of the King.

She had the authority now. And if Rhaenyra was Alicent’s mummy, she would never let anything happen to her again. She would protect her in the way Alicent never was. She’d hold her close and never leave her side, she’d ride on dragon back with her if it meant she’d never have to depart from her.

xxxx

When Alicent awoke, she was big. She scrabbled to free herself from the swaddle and wanted to scream when she felt the nappy wrapped around her body. She rarely switched headspaces this quickly, not anymore at least.

She could see Rhaenyra in the corner of her vision, writing something as she sat at her desk, not noticing Alicent’s awaken presence.

Once she had successfully freed herself from the swaddle, she sat up on her knees, trying to figure a way out of the cot. Why must it so complicated? Urgh, seven hells!

She needed to leave, now. She could not face Rhaenyra, not ever. She humiliated herself, she humiliated herself to the deepest depths of hell. Her face was hot with embarrassment recalling what she said.

Then Rhaenyra turned, pausing momentarily when she noticed Alicent was not only awake, but in her big headspace. Smaller Alicent wouldn’t have been able to wiggle out of swaddle that quickly.

“Alicent?” She rushed to the cot, unlatching the simple lock in a quick second. Alicent scoffed.

“Alicent? What has happened?”

Alicent ignores her and gets out of the cot, she winces when she feels the nappy rustle around as she moves. She needs it off.

“I do not wish to speak with you, Rhaenyra, please.” Alicent does not glance to see Rhaenyra’s hurt expression and makes her way to her folded dress and undergarments.

Rhaenyra walks quickly behind her, her breath felt on Alicent’s lobe. “You will not leave me without explanation, Alicent. What has happened?”

Alicent ignores her again, she walks behind the privacy screen but Rhaenyra is quick. She takes a hold of her wrist, nowhere near a tough grip but Alicent stops and sighs.

“I cannot— I do not believe I can speak of this. Speak of what has happened. I ruined this, all of it,” Alicent throws her hands out to describe ‘this.’

Rhaenyra softens her gaze and lets go of Alicent’s wrist. “We must, Alicent. Please, you cannot leave me without explanation.”

Alicent rubs her temple, closing her eyes in contemplation. She finally nods, “But let me dress— I do not think I can stay like this any longer,” she says, speaking of the baby white gown and nappy she’s dressed in.

Rhaenyra smiles and nods, “of course. I will be here.”

When Alicent is dressed back into her formal gown, fit for a seasoned royal, she walks out from the screen. Rhaenyra is sitting on the edge of her bed, fidgeting with her fingers. Something Alicent rarely sees Rhaenyra do. She must be as nervous as she is.

“We may speak now,” Alicent says.

They both are sat facing each other, close enough to where their knees touch. Rhaenyra’s expression is soft and understanding, she does not seem disgusted or angry. It leaves Alicent confused.

“I did not mean to call you that. I don’t know what went over my head in that moment. I must’ve been very tired.”

“You did not mean it? Surely?” Rhaenyra’s expression turned hurt, but she quickly held it. Plastering on a fake smile.

“I- I do not know. I… am… Truthfully— I have had thoughts I do not understand.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“Of the role you play. Rhaenyra, I cannot deny that you have been patient with me. I cannot deny that I feel like a part of me has been healed. But I do not understand my desire in calling you what I called you.”

Rhaenyra takes a hold of Alicent’s hand, “Of being your mummy?”

Alicent swallows back her sob, “I— I do not understand it, Rhaenyra. But I feel so incredibly complete when I think of it. I had a mother, I had a person that I called ‘mummy,’ but it doesn’t erase the fact that you hold that role as well.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes water at Alicent’s words, she holds Alicent’s hand tighter. “You do not have to understand it completely to want it, Alicent.”

“I feel my role has your caretaker does intertwine with the role of a mummy. And I will not deny you of that desire you have. For I have the desire as well.”

“You do?”

Rhaenyra laughs sweetly, “I rock you to sleep and look down at you as if you were my own. I would feel honored to be your mummy, Alicent.”

Later, in the early hours of the night, Rhaenyra pushes Alicent’s beautiful, long locks of red hair. Her hair is still damp from her bath but she’s dressed in her sleep wear, changed in a soft, white nappy and held close to Rhaenyra, her mummy.

She finished burping her and now is simply rocking her. Alicent’s eyes are open and curious. “My love, my baby. You are with mummy now.”

[piscerte]

Kagami Taiga X Kuroko Tetsuya

Blue and Red popsicles

Ao3 link:

Summary:

Kagami writes a love letter to Kuroko after asking him to be his boyfriend (little flashback of that in the middle).

Notes:

I wish I knew how to write big fics, because I love this two so so much...

Words:

690

Additional Tags:

Love letters, Love confessions, Confessions, Memories, Everyone loves Kuroko Tetsuya.

When I first came to Japan I didn't give you any worth, sure you being like a ghost and nobody even noticing you was actually good for Seirin’s team, but it was not like I felt you added so much. And it wasn’t you previously being in the he Generation of Miracles that changed that, but the way you glow when you look at me in court, the way I can’t even see you running in game and the way that you matched me and made us win against Jabberwock that made me not only see you but also appreciate it.

You are not only my team mate and my friend , you are a part of my life I didn’t know I needed until I moved across the globe and learned the importance of companionship and love.

Playing with you has been one of the most pleasurable and enjoyable things I know, as well as eating popsicles on the side of court in a sunny day with you, seeing you play with Nigō (Tetsuya #2) and going on a ridiculous shoe hunt trying to find a sports shoe (other than Aomine’s) that fits me in this country.

Being “In zone” - a state of focused attention and energy that enhances one's performance - is very helpful while playing, but you know that our Kuroko-Kagami Alley-Oop is so so so special to me, maybe more than it is for you. You intercepting the ball as the opponent tries to pass, smacking the ball onto the ground in the direction of the basket, as I jump high into the air to grab and dunk the ball. Don’t you think it is the coolest thing we can do together? Don’t you think that this move is responsible for bringing us closer, for making us sync up for good?

I know I finally said "We've been friends this whole time, haven't we?”, but you know I wanted more than that. I need to wake up next to you every day, seeing the sun illuminating your face as I wake you up, I need to play with you on every single match and I think I may be required to watch our favorite movies together while cuddling up on the couch to live…

....

“So, kuroko Tetsuya, would you make me the happiest man in the whole world and be my boyfriend as well as my court partner? - Kagami asks with his hands trembling while taking out a beautiful silver ring out of his pocket.”

“I really thought you would never ask… but who am I to say no when you remembered I prefer silver over gold”.

“You are starting to try to be sarcastic, I am a bad influence on you.”

“Maybe, but yes, I do wanna be your boyfriend.”

“So, wanna have blue and red popsicles so we can kiss and make it purple?” - Kagami nervously tries to play as he slides the ring onto Tatsuya’s finger, contrasting his usual ambitious and stoic like personality.”

…

“So, now we are not only boyfriends, but embarrassing making out on a random bench in a random park after trying to one up the other practicing our throws?”

“You said it so bluntly, but yes.”

…

On that day forward, not only you became officially mine, but I also was made yours, hopefully forever and after. You brighten my days, even the ones you are a pain in the ass, and I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. So much so, I am certain that I will marry you, at least twice, in Japan and in the United States, so our bond can be confirmed and our destiny intertwined together.

Can you imagine it? Us getting married, living and playing together, adopting more dogs - sorry Nigō - and growing old together? Me, the grumpy old man and you, the friendly quiet neighbor living a quiet and peaceful life, enjoying retirement as much as we enjoy playing now, maybe even more, because we will get to spend all our days with one another .

I love you with all my heart Tetsuya and I hope you never forget that.

Kisses and hugs,

Your Kagami.

[babygurltash]

OC Name Meaning

Hi, I'm about two weeks late to this - thanks so much for the tag, @sillyliterature! :D

Rules: google and post the meaning of your OC'S name (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! bonus if you can find something for their last name too.

I'll do my BG3 Tavs (+ my Durge) and also some of my Shepards! <33

Laurel: My first, and main, Tav!! They're a Seldarine drow warlock with the Folk Hero background (I went in blind and didn't realize Wyll has the same class & background, oops). They've always tried really hard to forge relationships with all kinds of people to 'prove' that not all drow are evil and/or Lolth worshippers. Since their mom raised them to be a selfless hero who would improve public perception of drow like she does, they were named after the crown of leaves that would be given to heroes and victors in our world... which has been a heavy burden to bear. In meeting Lae'zel, they learned that it's completely possible to not care what others think of you or how you 'represent your race' - and it's taught them to be themself, instead of some ideal of a 'perfect' drow.

Estelle: My tiefling sorcerer that I made specifically to romance Astarion with! Estelle was born to a tiefling general and a marid (evil water devil). Their mother, the general, wanted a child who would have strong powers and an even stronger mind - that's how she chose Estelle's father. However, Estelle had a soft heart and no mind for strategy. Their parents abandoned them on the streets as a result. This made Estelle grow angry and cold, and they vowed to tap into their own strength, join the army, and get revenge on the parents who saw them as worthless. The Nautiloid got them before they ever made it off the streets though. I borrowed their name from a character I love in Arslan Senki - she disguises herself as a boy to join the army and fight for what she believes in, so I thought it was fitting.

Tharien: My sister told me she had a dream where I made a D&D character and called him Tharien, so I made a BG3 character with that name, hahaha. He's my little murder freak who's going to destroy the grove and romance Minthara!

Valiska: My first, and so far only, Durge. I really wanted to play with the contrast between the monstrous and the beautiful, so I chose a race that's seen as monstrous (half-orc) and gave her soft, beautiful hair. She's also a bard because she wants to add loveliness to the world, and hates the violence within her very much. 'Valiska' as a name kind of just came to me, I think it rolls off the tongue nicely and thought it suited her appearance somehow.

Seren: The githyanki cleric I made for my co-op pt with my bf! They're a cleric of Tyr with a strong moral code that leaves little room for subtlety or nuance. I named them after a character I like (again), this time from Magi: Princess Serendine. Magi's Serendine is brave and stubborn, and she learns that the country she believed in so strongly is actually rotten on the inside. I wanted my Seren to go through a similar arc, and they share a lot of Magi's Seren's traits, so I found the name very fitting.

Aria: My first Shepard!! I once again went in blind - imagine my surprise when I got to ME2 and met Aria T'Loak...

Aria Shepard is Earthborn, and was found on the steps of an orphanage in the middle of an opera performance at the nearby theater. Her caretakers heard the music and named her accordingly. She's always shut away the more poetic, soft side of herself in order to survive her harsh realities. That changes when she meets Thane, who draws out her most vulnerable self almost without trying. I'm still in the middle of writing a long (very long) fic about her and Thane that I'm hoping to maybe start publishing soon.

Ares: A renegade Shepard is something that can actually be so personal, as I learned when I made Ares. She's a tough career soldier who's wholly dedicated to the Alliance and its ideals, so ME2 has been a fun ride so far. I wanted her name to be equally tough and not too feminine, because she's nonbinary. When the idea hit me to name her after the god of war, I couldn't stop thinking about it until I sat down and completed her character creation.

Tobi: The Shepard I made so I could finally romance Tali! Tobi is a Colonist who has spent years hiding behind false identities. When the Batarians came and took his family, he ran until his legs gave out and his cousin Tobias had to carry him to safety. Tobias was then caught and killed. The incident shook Tobi up so badly that he kind of lost his sense of self, and instead took on Tobias' name and identity. He joined the Alliance under that false name, two years too young to be legally allowed to do so. Hackett figures out what happened eventually, but by that point, Tobi Shepard is an indispensible part of the military and is already of age. No one's called Tobi by his given name since his family died, and he prefers to keep it that way... though he's told Tali his story in private.

No-pressure tagging: @megatraven @aevallare @choccy-zefirka @jotarowan and anyone else who feels like it, feel free to say I tagged you!!

[eyes-talks-ocs]

Ten Song Tag

Tagged by @winterandwords

I love any and all tags involving music because music is a huge drive behind both my writing and art~

Rules:Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favorite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best

These are going to be from Macaw's playlist from my Social Throwaways project.

----

Caterpillar - Hollow:

"Petty people pushing petty problems onto me. Don't they see that I don't care? Ok, so. You can't force a caterpillar to change. So why try to force this on me? Never gonna be on the same page, never gonna see me grow wing." (Honestly this whole song is just vibes <3)

Met The Devil In Oklahoma - Josh Meloy:

"I've been waiting on the river now to come around and pull me out of this hole. 'cause I've run out of places to hide."

CHAOS - Hollywood Undead:

"Everything we've ever loved gets buried underneath another grave for pretty slaves. But you won't fucking bury me! I am the Alpha, the Omega, meet your maker. You're all empty souls and I'm your fucking savior. No one can save you, the chaos awaits you." (Again this song is just all the right vibes for his character/story.)

Scream With Me - Mudvayne:

"Ever feel like lying down inside a grave? Listen to the eulogy, a buyer of the hate. Ever dance beside the devil, taste the barrel of a gauge? Ever pull the trigger, the light begins to fade. Feel like slipping away"

Lowlife - Adam Jensen:

"I'm a lowlife tryna get my head right. Stuck inside a dream. Cake and ketamine. I'm a lowlife tryna get my head right. I'm too young to die. And too old to cry."

The Heresy - Mushroomhead:

"Foster the future and nurture the land. Stitches and sutures, divisions in sand. Mass evacuations, sanctions for land. It's time we stand for something. Walking hand in hand."

Still Counting - Volbeat:

"Counting all the assholes in the room. I'm definitely not alone." (This song is in his playlist literally for this quote. I'm happy it came up in the shuffle, ha.)

Revenge, And A Little More - Unlike Pluto:

"I just want revenge. I feel like someone's up to something. Betrayal in the air, I'm losing my mind. Just another knife in my back. Pull 'em out and watch my pain pour out."

Choke - Poppy:

"The demon has seen me. He said "I'm not leaving". The angel is watching me, knows he can't stop me. I'm guessing they're testing me. Getting the best of me. Don't know how long until they see the rest of me."

This Is The Time - Nothing More:

"You can't see because you don't know. You're caught below, beneath your own shadow. Stuck inside, half alive. Do you ever stop to ask yourself why? Close your mind, identify. Do you feel, do you feel? Do you call this a life? All you waited for. Drowning just to keep score."

---

Had to skip one song because it was an instrumental. Oops. 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' by Justin Johnson if any of you wanna check it out.

[oepionie]

— "PUFFS AND RUFFLES" malleus draconia

SYNOPSIS: On your birthday, Lilia hands you a black dress claiming that you should wear it for your date with Malleus later. He fails to mention how it's a traditional wedding dress in Briar Valley. Oops...?

Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

Tags: Drabble! Fluff, Established relationship, Reader wears dress, Mentions of marriage, Lilia third wheel era, Kissing and making out, Not proofread!

A/N: My last fic before I dip and go study for midterms lolz

WordCount: 600+ | 💌Masterlist

"Lilia?" You peered through the curtains, calling the old bat over. Lilia gave you a quick glance before sneaking into the dressing room with you, keeping an eye out the corridor to make sure no one was watching.

With a click, the door closed, and Lilia turned to face you. He gazed at you fondly, a smile spreading across his face.

The dress he gave you fit perfectly on your figure. When you walked, the long skirt with its ruffled edges trailed behind you, its puffy sleeves draping across and towards your chest exposing your neck. Atop it, a necklace proudly sat, it's vivid green gem gleaming against the sunlight.

That was Malleus' courtship present to you years ago, as Lilia had recognized it. You were such a funny little thing back then. You had misinterpreted it as a birthday present, not realizing its actual significance in dragon culture. It took months of miscommunication and Malleus' sulking before you finally realized what it truly was.

"Are you sure I should wear this? Would Malleus really like it?" You fumbled with your hands, staring down at your outfit. Lilia gifted you the dress as a birthday gift and it was beautiful—almost as if it emanated some sort of mystical glow. Now you weren't sure how he managed to get your precise measurements, but you chalked it up to magic.

"Would he 'like' it? My dear, of course he would! " Lilia beamed, raising his finger and twirling it around, signaling you to spin for him.

You did as asked, twirling slowly. The flowy black skirt of the dress swirled around you like petals dancing around a flower bud, it looked almost weightless as it delicately floated up the air. When Lillia enthusiastically applauded for you, you grinned, stretched out your arms, and spun around the room.

While tapping your bare feet on the chilly marble flooring, you burst out laughing.

"Lilia? Have you seen the pre-" Gasping, you whipped your head around to face the door, the skirt of your dress pooling around you. Malleus stood by the entrance, jaw slack as he shamelessly stared at you. Embarassed, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The last thing you wanted Malleus to see was you dancing around the room like a little kid.

'Oh sevens, you looked so precious.' Malleus snapped out of it and marched towards you, a giddy smile growing across his face.

Thump Thump Thump.

His heart pounded in his chest as he took notice of the necklace clasped around your neck. The dress had already sent him into frenzy but paired with the necklace, it was overkill for him.

"You look beautiful." He whispered, cupping your face in his hands.

His hands trailed over your shoulders and arms before landing on your hips. Your head spun, face flushing as he pulled you closer, your shaking hands finding recluse on his chest. Malleus chuckled and drew you into a slow sensual kiss, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your waist.

While Malleus showered you with affection, Lilia awkwardly stood in the middle of the room. Becoming the third wheel was definitely not part of his plan.

Clearing his throat, Lilia raised an eyebrow at the dragon. Malleus huffed and drew away from you but still kept a hand placed on the small of your back. He turned his attention back to you, examining the dress once more.

"How interesting…" he muttered softly, trailing off. "I'm quite surprised you managed to find a wedding dress in that style."

"Wedding dress…?" You froze, letting Malleus' words sink in.

"Khee hee-Ah that's right! I forgot to tell you, that dress is a traditional dress used for weddings in Briar Valley." Lilia mused, walking over to you and pinching the fabric between his fingertips. "A bit old fashioned but they look like such a dear don't they?"

Malleus gazed at you fondly, clasping your hands tightly in his own. As he fixed his attention on you, his eyes appeared to be gleaming.

"Truly."

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Oops

My hand slipped

*(warning: long ass post below the cut, and massive spoilers ahead if I ever do get around to fleshing this out into a fully-fledged fanfic)

(Also, if you saw this before it was finished... again, no you didn't)

I'm thinking Wayne took Eddie to his buddy's ranch once when he was younger, maybe like right after he moved in with him, and it just. Changed his life.

(I also wanna tie this into being around the same time he came out/realized he was trans, and maybe the trip was Wayne's way of being supportive and/or getting him out of Hawkins for a little bit so he could experiment with presenting more masc safely. I'm a forever trans Eddie truther so for me this is just a given lol)

He just sort of naturally connects with the horses, relishes the feeling of freedom riding gives him once he works up the nerve to try, and he feels inexplicably more at ease, more at home, in his brief taste of ranch life than he ever has in his small town

Next thing he knows he's obsessed

Unfortunately his lot in life doesn't really present opportunities for him to engage with this newfound interest. Wayne can't take off long enough to repeat the trip; he was toeing the line with his boss the first time, and no way in hell could Eddie ever afford to actually have a horse, but even if he could, there'd be nowhere to keep it. Hawkins isn't exactly known for its wide open rolling plains, and neither are the bigger cities he's considered moving to someday in hopes of finding a more... accepting environment

So he's resigned to the fact that his daydreams of being a cowboy will never be a reality

But that doesn't stop him from learning as much as he can, and gushing about it to his peers at every opportunity (full on special interest/hyperfixation style, along with a lack of awareness regarding others being uninterested and annoyed by his infodumping. Neurodivergent eddie my beloved <3, another headcanon hill I will die on)

It gets to the point that the other kids find it obnoxious and start making fun of him; rumors about the circumstances of his criminal father dumping him with his uncle- along with speculation about why he doesn't quite look or sound like the other boys his age- certainly don't help, and neither do his ventures into "violent" music and "satanic" games

Eventually the Eddie we know and love today develops, the metalhead who sells drugs at house parties and runs the school's d&d club and shepherds younger students who don't quite fit in, the guy who embraces his status as town freak, because hey, if that's how everyone's going to see him anyway, might as well live it up, right?

But his horse girl/cowboy phase is something he keeps close to his chest. It's a part of him that's a little too personal, a little too integral to his growing up, and he also thinks it clashes a little too hard with the persona he's built for himself. Fortunately for him, most of the students at Hawkins high either don't remember that phase or flat out don't recognize him anymore, so he gets by without anyone but Wayne knowing the truth (and regularly teasing him about it)

Except.

He barely remembers- there was so much going on, so much has happened since, and he isn't the only one who's hardly recognizable from his eleven year old self- but there was one kid in middle school who actually liked him during that phase, who would talk just as excitedly about cowboys and rustlers and horses, who played along with him at recess while all the other kids either ignored them or rolled their eyes from a distance as they played their own games of tag or basketball or hopscotch

That kid understood him like nobody else did, back then. But back then, she was a girl- as far as anybody else knew- and one of the least popular students in school

So how the hell was Eddie supposed to realize that popular, normal, golden boy jock Steve Harrington was that same kid?

After a fateful spring break filled with running from the Hawkins mob, reconnecting with his childhood playmate, and horrors beyond his comprehension, Eddie finally connects the dots, and by then, he and Steve both have plenty of reason to get the hell out of dodge

However, it's a bit hard to go on the run when you're both confined to hospital beds after getting very nearly eaten alive by alternate dimension bat monsters

(I will absolutely be taking the opportunity of them being in the hospital together for Eddie to notice Steve's top surgery scars and have an "oh shit, he's like me" moment, which is probably when it finally clicks and he understands why he's felt so familiar despite them never being friends in high school. For context, the kid he knew in middle school mysteriously disappeared in seventh grade and was eventually replaced by incoming freshman "new student" Steve Harrington, whom everyone immediately liked and who instantly rose to the top of the social ladder without really even meaning to, so Eddie had never gotten a chance to run the same circles as him before now)

Eventually they do make it out of the hospital, still nursing their wounds but stubborn and desperate to get far away from Hawkins and everything it represents, besides the family and friends they leave behind, but that can't be helped- Eddie was wanted for a murder he didn't commit and Steve had taken the rap for Nancy's sawed off shotgun (as well as a bunch of other shit the kids had gotten into over the years) and there were also whispers among the police about his involvement in the mall fire the year before, so they were both running from the law. Taking the others along only would have put yet another target on their loved ones' backs, and besides, they're not exactly in fighting form at the moment, so it's not like they can do much to protect them

Along the way as they're running to god knows where- more running from than running to, really- they encounter a farm

A farm with horses

Horses that are clearly being neglected or maybe even abused

And that opens up the biggest can of worms in Eddie's life, because, for one, horses, but also, he knows what it's like to have the people who are supposed to take care of you turn their backs and lash out when things are going south- he can thank his dear old dad for that

So basically, there's not a bone in Eddie's body that's going to let him just walk on by without doing something about the situation, and when he says as much, he's pleasantly surprised to find that Steve is enthusiastically on board, possibly just as pissed as he is, in fact

And hey, it's not like they have to worry about ruining a clean legal record, and they've stolen an rv, they're definitely crazy enough to steal some dick's malnourished horses

So they do

Perhaps it's just meant to be, because there happen to be exactly two horses and exactly two of them

They succeed in their mission and get away with both horses without getting caught, and they're far away already by the time the dude notices they're missing (don't ask me how they transported two weak, full grown horses I haven't figured that out yet so shhh)

They've found a place to hide out for the time being, and they get to work rehabilitating and nursing the horses back to health. Eddie, having gone through his whole intense hyperfixation on equine care, is weirdly knowledgeable about determining what exactly is wrong and how to treat it, as well as knowing more than he has any reason to about training and riding, and Steve- well, Steve is just naturally a caregiver, and determined as hell. Between the two of them, the horses end up far healthier and happier probably than they ever have been, and they've definitely bonded with the kind humans who helped them get there

And thus, sort of by accident, Eddie and Steve have scored themselves two loyal, sturdy horses, just in time for Steve to have to ditch his car because they realize they've been tracked by his plates

Obviously they take off, renegades on horseback, Eddie having taught Steve how to ride at some point because even after all this time he's never forgotten, and through some beautiful twist of fate they wind up back at the ranch where it all started, and Wayne's old buddy offers them a job as ranch hands, telling them he doesn't need to know shit about their background as long as they know how to handle horses, and they clearly do

Basically they get to fulfill their childhood dreams of being cowboys (and maybe fall in love along the way) and live happily ever after or whatever I'm not really sure how this ends yet

(Oh and obviously Robin is going to somehow end up at the ranch and be reunited with Steve because ~platonic stobin is love platonic stobin is life~ and also because Robin dressed as a cowboy is something I think we all know is Right and Correct)

Was working on a thing for the au and a new headcanon occurred

This most likely won't be plot relevant, like, at all, but for some reason now that it's in my head I'm kinda stuck on it

It's just that Eddie secretly loves horses. That's all. That's the headcanon.

Will this matter story wise? No, no it will not. I'm pretty sure they will at no point encounter even a singular horse over the course of this fic

BUT

Look me in the eye and tell me Eddie Munson wasn't a horse girl in middle school

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

Snowball Princess 🔞

In which Yoongi is just tired- but also the happiest he's ever been.

Tags/Warnings: Snowball Princess AU, Husky Hybrid!Reader, Idol!Yoongi, mentions of poly!BTS x reader, Fluff, romance, suggestive themes oops, hints at smut whaaaat?, cockwarming

Length: short >1k words

A/N: yes I just did that :)

❄���.━━━━━━━━━━.👑.━━━━━━━━━━━.❄️

Yoongi wakes up slowly, remembering barely that he's got a day off today for once to relax and recharge.

There's another body in the hotel bed, but he's not alarmed by it- you're here because he wanted you to be, after all, and he wouldn't have it any other way. When he moves a little to stretch his limbs, you move as well- snuggling up to his side, cuddly as always, legs entangling with his underneath the covers.

But there's something else he notices more slowly, realization kicking in as to what happened last night.

You're naked, well, almost- bare chest pressed against his arm as your breath fans over his equally bare skin. You're both only wearing the bare minimum, and he's reminded from the faint hickey he can spot on your chest what happened some hours ago.

Groaning a bit annoyed because the mere thought of it has him rise in his underwear yet again.

It had happened naturally, so to say. You'd talked, eaten something for dinner in the hotel room, had played around like always. But this time, when he'd turned in bed to lean over you and kiss you goodnight, something had changed. It had been a little strange at first, how easy and natural it felt to him to get so close, hands calm but also a bit hesitant to undress you at first. But the reassurance from your side and his own in return had created the perfect environment for something so monumental, the entire act a dance between gentle love and desperate lust.

He loves you- so much, and you know that, now more than ever.

Scenes from last night fight its way back into the front of his mind as he thinks about the way you'd looked at him, pure trust as you fell into his hands, giving him all control to love you the way he deemed fit that night. It's not to blame on your heat at all- that had just ended a few weeks ago, so you were completely clear in your head and aware of the step you took.

And from the sight of your red cheeks and wagging tail as you look at him with a tired smile, it's also sage to say that you don't have any regrets, which is the last thing he'd needed to let himself freely love you for sure now.

"Hello there." He greets you with a raspy tone, and you lean in a little closer, kiss the tip of his shoulder before you yawn, stretching. It's a bit embarrassing to admit to himself that the mere sight of your bare body moving next to him, combined with the satisfied exhale that you make after stretching your legs and arms, has him definitely up and ready yet again even though he's barely awake.

But yeah can't bring himself to be ashamed.

"Come here, love." He says, helping you move as you lift your leg and straddle him- the way your eyes widen a little a telltale sign that you noticed the clear election hrs Sporting. "You're so pretty, you know that?" He praises, and you smile to yourself.

"You tell me a lot." You say, voice still laced with sleep. You yawn again before you adjust yourself, forcing his eyes closed at the sensation of your warm body over his sensitive length. "Was it.. good?" You ask, presumably referring to last night. He chuckles, eyes still closed, hands however very much confident in where to go as his palms run over your bare legs, front the tips of your knees up to your very hips.

"Perfect." He almost purrs. You preen yourself at that.

"Do you.." you wonder, before you seem to grow a bit more serious. "Does that mean.. I can't love the others anymore?" You wonder.

Yoongi shrugs. "I'm already sharing you with the others, am I not?" He says. "You kiss Jungkookie too, after all. Don't think I haven't heard about you two making up." He teases sleepily, and you squirm a little.

"But.. what if.. let's say jungkookie.." you mumble down at yourself. ".. wants this too?" You ask with hesitance-

But yoongi shrugs.

"Like I said." He says, lifting his arms above his head for a moment. "I'm already sharing you. Who you love in what way is up to you." He explains.

"So-" you try again, and he chuckles.

"If you and Jungkook want to have sex, I won't mind. Neither will Hoseok, or jiminie, or Jin, or anyone." He clears up bluntly. "We all love you. Though I will make sure everyone knows that I was your first." He mumbles to you, making you a bit shy. "My baby has a lot of love to give-" he softly tells you, eyes watching how you move a bit now. "-and it's only fair she gets a lot of it back in return." He shrugs.

And it feels like you've finally realized.

Your hands move carefully as you take him out of his underwear, your own pulled to the side as you let the head of his cock run over your core, collecting all of your already present arousal. It forces a low purring sound from him, and you really think that he might be an undercover cat hybrid with the way he sounds like.

"God.." he sighs out when you sink down on him, taking him in and keeping him there for a good moment. As a hybrid, you can't get pregnant if not in heat- but Yoongi is still careful. "Baby- condom-" he reminds you sleepily, but you whine.

"Can we.. stay like that?" You ask. "Just for a bit?" You wonder, and he chuckles softly.

"Yeah." He nods, eyes still closed, thumbs drawing circles on your skin. "Yeah, fuck- come here." Here raches out to you, and you lean down at that, upper body flush against his as he holds you.

And you both do indeed stay like that for a while, before Yoongi can't help himself but chase you out to fetch a condom.

You're just too irresistible.

[salazarslytherin]

sex on fire (s.b x y/n)

summary: an encounter with sirius in the kitchen

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: smut, pussy slapping, fingering, dumbification, praise kink, like exhibitionism if you squint, age difference (reader is of age!)

word count: 2.14k

a/n: Inspired. SO HEAVILY by @thotbutpurple’s dilf!marauders headcanons, specifically this post for this imagine. also heavily inspired by @acosmis-t's fic peanut. honestly this is just, self-indulgent. might do a dilf!series, I'm not sure reblog to boost please xxx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

Some people would think that it’s weird to like someone almost twenty years your senior. And if we’re being honest, you thought the same too.

That was until Sirius fucking Black walked into your life.

One of your dad’s best friends from high school, Sirius appeared in your life when you were sixteen, riding back into town on a Bugatti motorcycle and a battered leather jacket. A photographer who’d travelled the world, he came back to your small town to spend time with his younger brother and his old friends from high school.

That spelt weekend barbecues at your house, watching the absolute hunk of a man walk around your house shirtless, or in the thinnest fucking white tank you’ve ever seen in your life. Whether Sirius owned clothes that weren’t band tees, white tanks, and ripped jeans, you didn’t know.

But secretly, you hoped he didn’t.

⚔︎.

Now it’s been three years since Sirius had returned, and yet another one of your dad’s friends’ barbecues was being held at your house. The men were out back barbecuing – they called themselves the Marauders, the name never not making you laugh. Unfortunately, this week you were unable to join them, holed up in your room to study for your finals.

With the weather heating up as it neared the beginning of the summer, you could feel each individual bead of sweat run down your spine. Unable to focus on anything with the immense heat and the overwhelming stress you were feeling, you took out your earphones and got up off your chair, deciding to go downstairs to get something cold to drink.

Opening your bedroom door, you could hear the music playing from the backyard, the booming laughter of the various men standing around the barbecue grill. Walking down the stairs, you recited the formulas you were revising earlier, not at all paying attention to anything around you. Stepping into the kitchen, you kept staring at the flashcards you held, opening the fridge door to grab the carton of juice you knew was in there.

“That focused, are we?”

The deep voice scared you, making the flashcards from your grasp fall all over the tiled flooring. You whipped around to see Sirius leaning against the kitchen sink, smirking as he watched you. You watched him in return, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he downed a gulp from his beer bottle.

Shaking yourself off, you turned back to the fridge and grabbed the carton, before placing it on the counter and closing the door. You bent over to pick up the flashcards that you had dropped earlier, only to hear a splutter of a cough behind you.

You turned around as you placed the cards next to the carton, seeing Sirius cough into his forearm, his abs flexing beneath the thin tank top he wore.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay, Sirius?”

The man waved his hand at you, placing the beer bottle between his lips as his eyes scanned up and down your body, smirking around the bottle.

“S’nothing, Y/N.”

Your eyes followed Sirius’s gaze, looking down to realise just exactly why he had his little impromptu coughing fit. Given the heat, you’d forgotten you were only wearing a thin tank top and booty shorts that day, meaning that when you bent over, you’d given Sirius quite the show. You felt yourself turn red as you realised, spinning around promptly to grab a glass from the upper cabinets.

Unfortunately for you, but quite a fortunate happenstance for Sirius, all the glasses on the bottom shelf had been taken outside for “public consumption”, and only those on the top shelf remained.

Conscious of your every move in front of the hottest man you had ever known in your damned life, you stood up onto your tippy toes, reaching for the glasses on the top shelf. You could feel your shorts riding up as you reached up as high as you possibly could, honestly just contemplating climbing on top of the counters to reach the glasses.

All you wanted was some damned juice.

As you struggled, you heard a chuckle sound behind you, then footsteps. Warmth emanating from behind you, and then a hard body pressed up against you. Your body tensed up as you felt Sirius’s body behind you, swallowing audibly. You saw a hand reach up above yours, the large appendage wrapping around the blue glass before receding as the warmth moved away from you.

“Here you go, pumpkin.”

The nickname made your mouth run dry as you turned around to take the glass from the man, smiling slightly at him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as your fingertips grazed his, having to grip the glass unreasonably tight as you felt your hands weaken at his warmth.

“Thanks.”

Your voice croaked at the word, Sirius’s smirk growing on his face yet again. You took the carton and poured yourself a glass, sipping on it as you leaned against the counter, mirroring Sirius who was back to sipping at his beer bottle.

You could feel your exam stress building up again as your hand reached for the flashcards again, flipping through them as you mouthed the different formulas and definitions written on them.

“Stressed, Y/N?”

You hummed in agreement as you focused on the cards in your hands, the glass having been returned to the counter as you sunk back into revision mode, barely registering the clink of the beer bottle being placed in the kitchen sink as the man made his way towards you.

“Want some help, destressing, hmm?”

You looked up at the man only to find him right in front of you, your body straightening up as you watched his teasing expression, lips curled and eyebrows raised.

You knew Sirius knew the way you felt about him. The way you sucked in a breath the first time you’d seen him, the way you licked your lips subconsciously at the sight of him, the way you thought about him when you touched yourself…

He wasn’t exactly subtle with hiding the innuendos.

You shook yourself free of those thoughts as Sirius watched you, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.

“More juice, maybe?”

The smirk only grew bigger as the man shook the carton slightly, uncapping it and tilting his head backwards, drinking straight from the carton itself. You watched with your mouth hanging open slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing entrancingly with every gulp.

“Oops, I might've finished it all. Though, I think there’s still a little more in here…”

Sirius watched you almost mockingly, mouth dropping open to show the bare minimum of juice left in his mouth.

The man knew you wanted him, and felt the exact same way towards you. He couldn’t help it.

The moment you stepped into the kitchen, he was a goner. The tank top clinging to your breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage, the shortest fucking shorts he’d ever seen you in barely covering your ass, the man was holding himself together by a thread at this point.

“Hmm? You want it?”

Sirius’s eyes scanned your every move, eyebrows raising as you pushed off the counter slowly.

“Come get it.”

⚔︎.

You didn’t know who moved towards who in that split second, only that a moment later your world was turned upside down. Sirius’s lips were soft and sweet – the entrancing taste of Sirius overwhelming you, beer and orange juice mixing together in the kiss. As promised, Sirius’s tongue pushed a dribble of juice into your mouth, making you moan into his lips as your arms wrapped around his neck, flashcards scattering across the tiled flooring yet again, his hands coming up to grip your waist. The man’s calloused hands fingered the hem of your top, pushing the edges up, his thumb drawing circles on your hip bone.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers on your skin, feeling Sirius chuckle against your lips at your surprise. Your own hands moved from his neck to his shoulders, sliding down to his arms. You could feel Sirius’s arms tensing at the feeling, the veins on his muscled forearms like braille under your fingertips.

Grunting into your lips, the man stepped forward, pushing you up against the counter, the edge right against the small of your back.

“Can I?”

Sirius asked breathlessly, lips bright red from what felt like minutes, but also hours, of yours against his. He ghosted the elastic of your shorts, eyes flicking between yours as he awaited your approval or disapproval.

You nodded, unable to speak as you held your breath.

Was this actually happening, or were you having some sort of heat stroke-induced delusion?

“Turn around and bend over for me then, doll.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you nodded again, rendered dumb by your disbelief at the situation. You bent over the counter, leaning on your forearms as you looked over your shoulder, watching Sirius crouched down, hooking his fingers into your shorts, pulling your panties down as well in one move.

The man sucked in a breath at the sight of you bottomless, making your face turn red.

“Such a pretty pussy…”

The blush spread throughout your body as you noticed how close Sirius was to you, his breath ghosting your clit as he did nothing. Simply staring at your cunt. His hands moved up from your ankles, where he’d brought your shorts down to, and spread you open, fingers dipping inside you unintentionally, but it was likely to have been intentional. You squeaked at the feeling, walls clenching around thin air.

This is so fucking embarrassing. But your body seemed to disagree, feeling yourself become wetter at the feeling of Sirius’s eyes on you.

Moving in to take a closer look, the older man sent you one of his signature panty-dropping smiles.

Literally, in this case.

“I’m going to fucking ruin it.”

You threw your head forward as Sirius ran his forefinger up and down your slit, the brief contact with your clit making you let out a loud moan of surprise. Your eyes squeezed shut as you hid your head in your forearms, Sirius’s finger stretching you out as you moaned into your arms.

“Don’t be so loud, doll. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as Sirius moved his finger in and out of you, growing wetter at the thought of anyone catching you here. In the kitchen.

With your dad’s best friend.

All coherent thought was interrupted as Sirius’s other hand landed on your clit, rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger. The movement made your brain short-circuit, letting out a loud gasping moan as he pushed a second finger inside you as well.

“S-Sirius. Fuck.”

The man tutted from behind you but didn’t even falter in his movements, seemingly spurred by your pleasure to pump his fingers in and out of you even faster. You were so immersed in the pleasure that your eyes shot open in surprise as a sharp slap landed on your clit.

“What the fuck?”

Your head whipped back to look at the older man, who merely lifted a brow at your outburst, his fingers still thrusting into you, the sinful sounds echoing around the kitchen.

“Told you to shut up, doll. Or are you too dumb to understand simple instruction, hmm?”

As he said that, Sirius curled his fingers inside of you, making you choke on your breath as he hit something inside of you.

“S-Sirius. I-”

Another slap landed on your cunt, but the pain mixed in with the insane amounts of pleasure you were feeling, your eyes squeezing shut once more to see nothing but stars in the midst of your pleasure.

“I told you to be silent, didn’t I? How’ve I fucked you dumb already.”

You whined silently, wiggling your hips slightly as your walls clenched around him, feeling your pleasure mount inside you, climbing towards its precipice.

“Your pussy’s so tight around my fingers. You wanna cum, love?”

You bit down on your forearm, moaning out into it as you nodded, your orgasm threatening to erupt on his fingers.

Sirius curled his fingers inside you, the movement pushing you over the edge as you nearly screamed, thanking the heavens that someone, probably Sirius, had come up with the idea of blasting AC/DC in the backyard. Convulsing around the older man’s fingers, your chest fell onto the countertop, your fluids running down your thigh as Sirius pulled his fingers out of you slowly. The feeling of being empty made you whine, hand searching blindly behind you to find Sirius.

“Want more.”

A chuckle sounded behind you, Sirius’s hand finding its way to your hair, threading his long fingers through it.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you, pumpkin?”

taglist: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @themoonwithprophets, @moonys-gf, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover, @remoony1, @siriusblackwifeeey, @iamnibbsi, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @tomriddle_whore, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts, @jeannelupinblack, @i-love-scott-mccall, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @shit-thats-true, @dorcasmeadowesx, @sunflowersandpansies, @elenapatricia99, @90sgoldentrio, @itsmentalillness, @sprucewoodlover, @kiaslily

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[tblsomedoodles]

So apparently the limit isn’t 500 characters cuz that one ask was as long as my google doc sooo I sectioned off and kept under 500 characters for now reason :/// anywayyys here’s the rest of my ask (feel free to chop this up into different posts it’s very long oop)

I ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY LOVE the concept of ‘Donnie needs to see the bad in order to quell his mind and prepare for all the situations and that Leo would get so lost with the doom’. So they would come together, support each other, and tell each other what they’ve seen, as to give their twin what they need to hear. It’s so absolutely beautiful imo. The idea that Donnie had all of his recordings for Leo to watch once he died would be devastating, because imo the seer thing would force them to be even closer with each other and they’d have an even greater bond. Plus they’d probably get into more disasters because of the visions which would make their nickname all the more applicable.

If there’s rumor that Master Leonardo has visions of the future, is there anything for Master Donatello? Because the line about Donnie’s future self giving him lottery numbers like he’d asked- is in my mind is if he’d always been able to see the future is that him just trying to deny the future and the visions a final time as he stares upon a kid that he saw grew up while he dreamt? Would the future lotto ticket line make Casey pick up on anything because of it?

(I came across your raph cuddles leo to help with the visions and saw glowy Leo and went 👀👀👀👀 I have to see this au and went it’s only 3, I took a really long nap at six and I have nothing to do tomorrow ima read this and then promptly consumed the entire tag in 2 hours and wrote for another two (including formatting to fit the seemingly correct 500 character limit) and went I need to know more and then the questions and ideas kept coming lmao again I know I’ve said this a lot but don’t how long this is it just latched onto my brain and now it won’t let go it’s a masterpiece I love it so much❤️❤️❤️🤩🤩🤩 I’m probably gonna come back w more questions as I have serious brainrot because of it and I love it so much (also your family web au and adopted donnie aus look great to so I’ll have to read them as well but maybe not now was I don’t need to start at 3am like I did yesterday lmao but) the point is you have a galaxy brain and you are wonderful — ☄️

Yeah, I think it's the replies that have a short character limit. Not sure if asks have one or not, but yeah!

But yeah, them having those powers would definitely get them into more trouble as a result. (i'm toying with a having an entire plot line dedicated to just that sort of trouble.)

And i think him denying it based off the lack of Lotto numbers really would be him still trying to deny the future visions stuff. Like there's this kid, sitting right there in front of him. He's seen him grow up in both Leo's and his own dreams, and now he's right there telling them the world is going to turn into Leo's nightmares (not in as many words but yeah) if they don't help him stop it. I don't think CJ would pick up on anything from that line though. He wasn't even aware Future Leo had future vision and Donnie was better at hiding his then Leo was. It's probably not until Donnie starts using the nickname he isn't supposed to know, that CJ realizes Donnie knows more than he's saying.

And that's very sweet! Thank yoU! i can't take full credit for it though, since a lot of this AU has come into being from Asks! But thank you all the same! : )