#I will probably make a third part with a happy ending

[dailyralsei]

Y’know, it’s kinda weird that Ralsei doesn’t try to wear that cloak the whole time, if it’s the one shown in the Prophecy.

what do you think?

in chapter 1 susie tells him to get rid of the cloak because it was making it hard to hear him speak, so he figures taking it off is okay since it'd probably be harder to help guide the heroes to carry out the prophecy if they couldn't hear him properly. then throughout the rest of the game he realizes he's starting to like not hiding who he is, and at the end of chapter 1 he even takes off another layer of the disguise because he's so happy to have met new friends! ah it wouldn't matter too much if he's wearing something different to what's shown in the stained glass murals, he's still a prince from the dark. and after all, their fate is already decided!!

but susie wasn't supposed to be the one to enter the supply closet dark world with kris, no... it should have been noelle. noelle is the supposed second hero, the girl with hope crossed on her heart. and if it were noelle, she wouldn't have told ralsei to take the cloak off. noelle in chapter 1 was very "polite, out of your way, not one to speak up" and i seriously doubt she would have told him to do that like susie. that's the original prophecy, that's how it should have gone. that's why he's wearing the cloak in the prophecy, because susie was never supposed to be the second hero in the first place, him taking the cloak off was never intended but it happened and it's so great that it did.

without susie, ralsei wouldn't have gone through so much character development. he wouldn't have gotten so much out of this journey, he wouldn't have become his own person. he would have just stayed a shadow... the hat, the cloak.. him taking them off and never coming back is growth. he doesn't have to hide anymore, and the prophecy can certainly be changed...

edit: huh, i thought there being 4 characters in the prophecy was a well known theory (is it even only a theory at this point)

okay well if you wanna hear my take on it it's below the cut this answer has gotten longer than it should be. obviously spoilers for chapter 3 and 4 including secret boss spoilers

okay so. the prophecy panels talk about three heroes, right?

the first hero, the cage, with human soul and parts !

the second hero, the girl, with hope crossed on her heart

the third hero, the prince, alone in deepest dark

and last, was the girl. at last, was the girl.

last? i thought the girl was the second one? this wording seems deliberate. it points to the fact that there's two important girls in this prophecy

and take a look at the depiction for the second hero. she wields a sword, not an axe like susie does. you cannot equip swords to susie. but you can equip the jingleblade and the black shard to noelle, both swords. and take a look at the depiction for the last girl. it's the rude buster symbol. it's the same one in susie's room.

susie talked about always being picked last in life. and that's also an interesting detail to take note of. alphys also says in chapter 1 "... since you came in last"... she really is the last girl, isn't she? god the word last is starting to look like gibberish now

another small detail that's interesting, is that ralsei "knows what noelle can equip, but that susie should equip ribbons" and susie responds with "okay you know jack (you know nothing)" because susie won't let you equip ribbons on her. but guess who can equip ribbons? noelle. and her dialogue in the equip menu when you give her any ribbon is "... feels familiar." Hmm. i wonder why they put that in. i think this means ralsei has separate knowledge of what the second hero can equip and what the last girl can equip but he assumed susie is the second hero so that's why he thought susie is supposed to have ribbons. ralsei is not omniscient, he was just given a set of instructions and knowledge of the prophecy. he's just a little guy!!! the person who created him for the purposes of the prophecy probably never talked to him further than giving him the instructions or won't answer his follow up questions, leaving him completely alone. it explains why he thought he could change the prophecy by "being kind enough", he was left all this information and thought "hey, this ending is... too much. maybe it can change?"

another thing, in the gerson fight he says susie holds the pen of hope that can overwrite the dark. the girl with hope crossed on her heart? what if susie is the one that crossed hope onto noelle's heart with the pen? after all, susie's been helping noelle gain confidence in the normal route. she's been giving noelle hope.

and in chapter 1, if we followed the original prophecy, if susie didn't show up in her grand entrance, noelle and kris were supposed to get the chalk from the closet. it was noelle's idea to get chalk from the supply closet, and she wanted to go with susie, but alphys ignores that and says since susie came in late, susie should get the chalk and kris should follow. if susie didn't interrupt, alphys could have said noelle berdly and kris could be a trio, noelle would have gone to get the chalk, and kris could have followed her. also maybe the chalk wouldn't have gone missing so often if it weren't for susie but they also probably would have run out of chalk naturally without her.

the second hero not having antlers in the prophecy panel is irrelevant. it would have been a dead giveaway if there were antlers, and toby loves making things vague, interpretable. and wait, doesn't noelle's dark world outfit have a hood? and in chapter 3's sword route the white cloaked figure is supposed to be a parallel to noelle. hmm.. (shitty phone doodle i'm answering this on mobile)

the prophecy was reinterpreted. it got a twist. just like gerson said in chapter 4, stories can be reinterpreted and they're more fun if you add twists and unpredictability.

[penumbralwoods]

May I know your undertale opinions. Literally anything that you wanna talk about or opinions about it that you are very passionate about, I just wanna know what you think about it :}}

yuo know that one part in the lego movie where they encourage benny to make a spaceship finally. youre doing that to me rn

FIRST AND FOREMOST. this is probably obvious by the everything about me but i am a huge fan of the AUs. i think people should keep making their own sanses and frisks and charas until the end of time. cringe is dead error is the best one geno is close behind. yeah ink is in third. being my favorite doesnt mean hes the BEST. anyway now onto something completely irrelevant to that

i think gaster is very interesting i also think people should remember the mystery man sprite is not explicitly gaster and there are many FUN value events that arent tied to him in any way and hes not in deltarune. hes not. i was there when people started building up the fanon lore i watched it happen i know exactly where all these theories come from and its not in either game. anyway read handplates.

BEST SOUNDTRACK OF ANY VIDEO GAME EVER. NOT TAKING CRITICISM. EVER. undertale is one of the best songs in any ost. so's megalovania but everyone knows that. toby is the reason im insane about leitmotifs and screamed about it on main every time i heard any part of requiem in a different ultrakill song bc i CANT TELL WHAT ITS THERE FOR!!!!!!!

asriel dreemurr is my favorite character design. ever. specifically god of hyperdeath if i have to choose, but all 3 of them are just. A+. hopes and dreams/SAVE the world also amazing themes, probably my favorite final boss ever as well.

sans is also very interesting and the fandom obsession was completely warranted. i only wish it didnt mean people stopped caring about the rest of the cast

i adore alphys and the true lab segment. it never becomes less impactful to find out the tumblr stereotype character is actually dealing with severe anxiety and guilt about horrors she didnt even mean to commit. "ill send everyone back tomorrow :)" haunts me. that said i love that they get to go home eventually. and theres no angst about how theyre Not the Same or whatever, everyone is just happy to have their family members back, even if theyre sharing a brain now.

new home segment is the best-written part of the entire game. the progression of every monster you've ever seen as the story gets darker, walking around the house with hints to how the tale ends, the fact that it's identical to home in the ruins, and then. first enemy you ever saw. "you're going to be free." i don't understand why "despite everything, it's still you" is used out of context (which imo completely evaporates any impact. just seeing the "it's you!" flavor text will NEVER compare to how it is actually going through the entire game and looking at the mirror again at the end.) when thats there. i painted "071" on my graduation cap, under the delta rune.

i love deltarune but people need to stop comparing the two. and also acting like the lore of each game is interchangeable.

its kind of sad that people primarily get caught up in the angst and horrors of undertale when that's such a comparatively small part of it. undertale is about hope. when the 6 human souls disappear in the neutral ending, sans still tells you they're getting out someday in the phone call. undyne has an entire monologue about it. every time the end theme is that it's going to get better. sooner or later, we're going to get out of here and live the lives we want to.

i think this is a game a lot of people need right now.

[lanialania00]

misunderstandings part 2

[twilightofthesandwiches]

Man, this is such an interesting exchange, cause, like… in most stories, when a character says they'd like things to go on forever, that they want something eternal, they're pretty much setting themselves up for a very rude awakening. You know, nothing lasts forever, sometimes you have to learn how to let go, sometimes you need to move on. I mean, that's one of the core themes of Undertale.

Flowey/Asriel's whole motivation in the Pacifist Route is to make the Game go on forever, to put the ending eternally out of reach, to trap Frisk in an infinite time loop because he just can't move on from Chara's death.

Part of the narrative is that if the Player RESETs a Pacifist Route then they are no better than he was, since now they are also yanking everyone away from their Happy Ending so that we can play with them again, because we can't accept the game has Ended. The Murder Route is less focused on that whole theme but you replay it over and over again Chara will basically call you a weirdo for your obsessive clinginess to this world.

Part of Undertale's themes is the importance of an Ending to a story. A True Pacifist Player's true and final act of selflessness is to let go of their desire have things keep going for forever, to give up on Eternity… for the sake of the happiness of every other character in this world, for the sake of their Happy Ending.

On the other hand, as a Wise Dog once said…

Both Undertale and Deltarune love exploring the ways in which the world of a game is different or similar to the real world, how the perspective of a Player is so different from the perspective of an actual character living in this world and... Real Life doesn't have a clear set ending.

The Player is the only one from whom the story just ended. Everyone else just kept living their stories of friendship together, although they probably never experienced something as high-stakes as the events of 'Undertale' ever again. And... when endings do seem to come, they're not going to be as clear-cut and satisfying and clearly communicated as the Game Ending is to the Player.

…But on the other other hand, it is still true that some things in life do end and we do have to accept that. Like… you know, the most famous Ending in life… is Death.

Gerson hears Susie talk about how she wants things to go on forever, but he already decided he has no interest in Eternity himself. He knows that the Three Heroes are here to seal the Fountains that revived him, he knows that when they succeed he'd go back to being a dust-covered hammer, probably never to be revived again and… he's perfectly at peace with that. He's an old man who died from natural causes, he had a long, full and satisfying life, he already had his ending. What's happening now is some weird glorified epilogue, but he knows it will end soon. And that's fine by him, because the time for his story has ended.

He does have one major regret in life, his failure to properly support his son's writing, and he spends all of the time the Dark has given him to try and make up for it. But it's really just a matter of asking Susie to deliver his message. He doesn't try to maintain or expand the Dark World so he could make up for his mistakes or try to pull Alvin in so he could meet him again or find a way to come back to life in the Light World somehow… I wonder if Someone was expecting him to do something like that and that's why they tried to give him that Shadow Crystal, but we all know that didn't work

In a way… we've already seen Susie's rude awakening for her desire for a 'forever'. She formed such a powerful bond with "the Old Man", she definitely would've wanted their time together to last longer, to last as long as it could, to last forever. But that's not possible.

And even his appearance in the Third Sanctuary was kind of a surprise stroke of luck that shouldn't be taken for granted.

The whole point of the Second Sanctuary is that Susie realized that Gerson was dead in the Light World, and trying to cope with this idea, went straight to a kind of denial.

Well, she can just pop over to the Dark World and, like, ask him what the Door Code is, right? No big deal! I mean, it's not exactly like Susie and Kris were really at a dead-end, there were plenty of areas in the Church they haven't checked thoroughly at all (not just the Fire Extinguisher)…

It wasn't because she HAD to do it for the Door Code, it's because she had to do it to reassure herself that her new friend isn't really gone, that maybe he'll be there waiting for her in his study if she just High-Key Stab Reality and Unleash the Flow of Pure Darkness Energy…

But it wasn't that simple. At best you can say his appearance in the Third Sanctuary means that he can manifest in any Church Dark World created by the Knight… but seeing how Susie's whole goal at the moment is to stop the Knight from making more Dark Fountains, that's not exactly increasing her chances to see the Old Man again.

When they go to seal the Fountain, Susie muses about her 'stupid dream' that things will just… stay the same. That she'll keep having fun Dark World adventures with her friends through eternity. But she knows that although Kris fully understands her, that's not what's going to happen. It's both about how the stakes and seriousness of the story have been so overtly raised for her, the Knight and the Titans aren't just an ominous background detail. She has fought them both. But it's also because she is already experiencing an Ending right now. She knows that when Kris seals this Fountain, she will probably never see Gerson again.

…But despite all of that, I don't think the narrative completely rebuke Susie's desire for Eternity. After all, Gerson heard her say that, fully knowing his own fate, and he mostly seemed intrigued? It doesn't seem to waver his belief that she's the one who should be writing the story, that he could count on her to defy fate in the name of Justice. Y'know, Susie wasn't really thinking of the Inevitability of Death at that moment, she was just thinking that… she would like to keep having fun adventures with her friends in perpetuity. And is that such a bad thing to wish for?

I mean, just because something was a theme in Undertale doesn't mean that Deltarune can't use Susie to drive home the point of 'well, yeah, you're not wrong, but it's a bit more nuanced than that", there's precedence, in fact.

I'm thinking about, like, the Tenna storyline in Chapter 3. That was also about someone who needs to move on, Tenna is clinging to his happier past in unhealthy way and wants the fun of his game show to last forever. He also wanted his own version of Eternity. But the game still draws a contrast between Ralsei, who just tells him to remember the happy times and accept that everything ends, including his use

And Susie, who is the one who rejects this mindset. Her solution still has some level of moving on and accepting that the Dreemurr-Holiday Family Unit has ended, but that doesn't mean he's just got to lay down and accept that his whole life is over. She comes up with a plan that ensures the continuation of his life and his dreams. It's an Ending of sorts, but an Ending that has a continuation attached to it. And it came specifically from Susie's distaste for endings, from her aggressive rejection of going gently into that good night.

There are certain things, certain endings, we all have to accept, but there is also so much that is worth rebelling against, that is worth fighting for. Susie's desire for an 'Eternity' might be a bit oversimplistic, but it is also the source of her rebellious spirit, out-of-the-box-thinking and the shining hope that Gerson sees in her. So I don't think the story will dismiss it outright, we really just have to wait and see just how much of that 'Eternity' Susie will manage to keep...

[monserelates]

Love, Actually

⇨james potter x f!reader

⇨summary: Everyone knows James Potter is hopelessly in love with Y/N. So when he suddenly starts mooning over another girl, the entire school is left confused—including Y/N, who isn’t the type to sit around and cry. She's loud, proud, and absolutely not affected. Until she is.

⇨warnings/notes: stubborn!reader, outspoken!reader, use of y/n, cheeessyyy, fluffy ending, light angst, swearing, emotional angst, mutual pining, jealousy, protective Marauders, happy ending

word count: 1.6k

It starts with confusion.

James Potter has loved Y/N since third year. That’s not an exaggeration, it’s Hogwarts common knowledge. Professors are in on it. First-years whisper about it. There are unofficial bets in three different Houses about when he’ll finally make a move.

So when he shows up at breakfast grinning like a fool and sits beside Eleanor Buckerfield instead of Y/N—everyone pauses.

Then he leans into Eleanor's side and says, “Has anyone ever told you your eyes shine like the color of a summer meadow?”

Sirius chokes on his pumpkin juice.

Peter looks up. "What the bloody hell even is that compliment?"

Remus stares.

Y/N freezes, toast halfway to her mouth.

“What the actual fuck,” she mutters.

“Must’ve bumped his head on a Bludger,” Marlene says under her breath, glaring across the table.

“No,” Lily whispers. “Look at his pupils. Too dilated. Something’s off.”

“Obviously,” Y/N snaps, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder like nothing’s wrong. “Potter’s just being a fucking idiot again. What else is new?”

She doesn’t storm off. She walks like she could, but she won’t give anyone the satisfaction.

Not even him.

The worst part? He keeps it up.

All day.

Charms, Herbology, dinner. James follows Eleanor like he’s under a trance. He carries her books. Laughs at her jokes. Brings her a carnation from the greenhouse and tells her, “It matches your lips.”

Y/N doesn’t care. Of course she doesn’t.

She definetly does not want to bang her head into a wall or jump to the black lake.

In fact, it’s not like she ever liked James.

Sure, she used to laugh at his dumb Quidditch metaphors and ruffle his hair when he was pouting and take care of him when he's sick and know his favorite flavor of the Bertie Bott's beans ( Tutti-Frutti ) so whenever Sirius bought some she'd always set them apart for James and pretend not to notice how he stared at her when she wasn’t looking—but that meant nothing.

So when Lily gently says, “Are you okay?” that night in the dorm, Y/N just scoffs.

“Obviously I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be? He can fall in love with whoever he wants. It’s not like I ever gave a cared.”

Dorcas raises an eyebrow. “You just crushed your quill.”

“It was old anyway.”

“You stabbed it clean through the Transfiguration schedule.”

“It was an ugly schedule.”

In the corridor the next day, James walks by with Eleanor, hand in hand.

Y/N doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t say a word.

Just turns to Sirius and says, “That’s not James.”

Sirius frowns. “You think it’s Polyjuice?”

“No,” she says. “It’s him. But it’s not him. You know?”

And Sirius, who knows James better than anyone, nods slowly. “Yeah. I do.”

By Thursday, it’s not funny anymore.

James is paler. Slower. His laugh sounds forced. His eyes are always red-rimmed like he hasn’t slept.

And Eleanor? She’s smug. Too smug. Her hand never leaves his arm.

At dinner, he tries to feed her strawberries.

She giggles.

Y/N drops her spoon.

The clatter is deafening.

James doesn’t look up.

“He’s sick,” Lily says later that night. “You saw the way he stumbled. He didn’t even finish his dessert.”

Marlene nods. “Probably a love potion. But it’s too strong. It’s eating him alive.”

Y/N is silent.

Then: “How do you break a love potion?”

Dorcas looks up. “Depends on the spell. Some wear off. Some need antidotes. The powerful ones?”

She pauses.

“True love’s kiss.”

Y/N rolls her eyes so hard it could crack glass. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Lily pushes.

“Because I’m not the protagonist in a cheesy romance, Lils. He can rot.”

But she doesn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, James faints in the courtyard.

He hits the cobblestone hard, face ashen, lips cracked. Eleanor shrieks and drops him like a sack of potatoes.

Madam Pomfrey is summoned. She takes one look and says, “Someone’s cursed this boy.”

Up at the top of the stone staircase, Y/N stands frozen.

Then she sees Eleanor's—arms crossed, trying too hard to feign shock.

And Y/N snaps.

She storms down the steps, fury radiating off her like wildfire. Her wand is already in her hand before anyone can blink, Peter tries to stop her, but Sirius holds him back. "I've been waiting for this one."

“You,” she hisses.

Eleanor turns, smug until she sees the look in Y/N’s eyes.

“I didn’t— I don’t know what happened—”

“Cut the bullshit.” Y/N’s voice is low, dangerous. “You spiked him. You put him under something, and now he’s dying, you stupid cow.”

“I didn’t mean—he liked me—!”

“No. He never liked you. He barely tolerated you. He’s been in love with me since third year, and everyone knows it—except your delusional ass.”

Eleanor pulls out her wand.

"Talk about delusional, you're just mad little Jamie got over you."

Y/N raises her wand.

“Expelliarmus!”

Eleanor's wand flies out of her robe.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Eleanor stiffens mid-stammer and crashes backward into a bush, frozen.

There’s a beat of silence.

Someone claps.

Sirius mutters, “Hot.”

Remus elbows him.

"She ate that up, to be honest" Marlene said, whispering to Lily who nodded.

Y/N doesn’t wait. She throws her wand back in her pocket and bolts toward the Hospital Wing.

The Hospital Wing smells like mint and moonflower and antiseptic.

Y/N’s hands are cold as she sits beside James, who hasn’t stirred. His skin is too pale. His lips have lost that familiar flush, and his curls—usually a mess of warmth and chaos—are limp against the white pillowcase.

Madam Pomfrey had said the curse needed to be broken willingly. That something true, something pure, had to reach him through the fog.

But Y/N’s not thinking about that.

She leans down.

"James," she whispers. "C’mon. This is ridiculous."

She places a hand on his chest. Feels the irregular thump of his heart.

“You were mine first. Do you hear me? Mine. I’m the one who made you laugh in Potions and the one who goes to your parent's house every christmas break, helping your mother bake cookies—me.”

He doesn’t move.

She swallows. Her voice breaks. “You don’t get to leave me. Not like this. Not when we’ve spent years dancing around this thing like idiots.”

Still nothing.

And then—

It’s not desperate.

It’s gentle. Affectionate

Her lips brush against his like a promise kept, broken. Like she’s daring him to come back to her.

Like she’s always known he would.

It’s not a grand kiss. Not the stuff of legends.

It’s soft.

Warm.

Honest.

Like home.

For a breath, everything is still.

And James gasps.

Eyes flying open.

He stares at her.

“Y/N?”

She hugs him so tight his ribs might crack.

“You absolute dimwit,” she breathes into his shoulder. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

His voice is hoarse. “You were jealous.”

“I was concerned.”

“You kissed me.”

“You were dying.”

“You slapped me.”

“I did not?”

"Oh, that must've been Eleanor then."

"She did what? Does she really want to be hexed again?" You picked up your wand.

"M' just kidding, love. Wait. You hexed her?"

You smile sheepishly. "Maybe."

“I—bloody hell, I think I’m in love with you,” he mumbles, dazed.

Y/N grins, smug as ever, and presses her forehead to his. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I know.”

Meanwhile, in the staffroom…

Professor McGonagall slides a galleon into Professor Sprout’s palm.

Slughorn hums. “Told you the kiss would break it.”

Filius chuckles. “I bed she'd deck him or hex someone. I stand vindicated.”

Binns floats by. “They remind me of a young couple in 1642…”

Everyone ignores him.

Dumbledore walks in, eyebrows raised with amusement. “She hexed Eleanor.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Slughorn beams. “Brilliant, that one.”

Sprout nods thoughtfully. “That spellwork showed real control.”

Filius whistles low. “She managed a silent hex under that much emotional strain? Impressive.”

McGonagall smirks into her tea. “And with excellent aim, I might add.”

Sprout leans forward. “Next wager—when do they finally shag?”

McGonagall sputters mid-sip. “Pomona!”

Slughorn claps. “Put me down for next Hogsmeade weekend.”

Dumbledore smiles, eyes twinkling. “Ah, young love.”

Back in the dorm later that night:

“She kissed him,” Dorcas hisses, dramatically flopping onto her bed like it's breaking news while you laugh.

“Aw, he's like a puppy,” Marlene says through a yawn, “an over-excited one that just found its favorite toy.”

Lily sighs dreamily, arms tucked behind her head. “I’m just glad they finally stopped being so bloody oblivious.”

Dorcas rolls her eyes. “True love’s kiss. Classic.”

Marlene perks up. “And did you hear what Flitwick said on the way out of the Hospital Wing? ‘Pay up, Minerva. I told you she’d crack first.’”

Marlene snorts, then cackles. “I love this school. They should just shag already.”

From the hallway:

“I HEARD THAT!” James’s voice echoes from beyond the dormitory door.

Lily doesn’t even blink. “Good! Tell Y/N to kiss you again so we can start round two!”

Y/N, sitting on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a blanket and holding a mug of cocoa, freezes.

“What?! We’re just—best friends!” she says, way too quickly.

Three heads snap toward her in unison.

Dorcas raises an eyebrow. “You're a dumbass.”

Lily snorts. “You kissed him and hexed a girl for flirting with him.”

Marlene, deadpan: “You called him ‘love.’”

Y/N blinks. “Okay… but like… in a platonic way?”

Dorcas throws a pillow at her. “You’re the spell that needs breaking.”

Marlene leans over, whispering to Lily: “Five sickles says she’ll kiss him again before Friday.”

From the hallway, again:

“MAKE IT TWO!” James yells.

Y/N groans into her cocoa. “I hate all of you.”

Lily just smiles. “No, you don’t. You’re in love.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Break In (Part 1)

Summary: Someone breaks in while reader is home alone but her boyfriend isn't too happy when he finds out she called him first...

Pairing: Tim Bradford x reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, break-in

A/N: My first Tim fic! If you're a fan of The Rookie, check it out and let me know what you think!

Your eyes were closed, music quietly playing through your bluetooth speaker, warm bubbly water surrounding you. It was Friday night and while you would have loved to have been spending it curled up in your boyfriend’s lap while he tried and failed once again to get you interested in the baseball you’d have been inevitably watching…a self-care night was in full swing while he worked a double.

*NYSNC came over the speakers as you sunk lower into the water, smirking as you wondered what you’d have to do to get Tim to take a bubble bath. Probably a back massage or the promise of-

Something crashed outside the shut door, your eyebrow raising. You turned off the speaker, listening intently, a quiet creak of the floorboards at the end of the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Someone was in the house. No, someone had broken into your house. While you were very naked in a tub with no way to defend yourself.

Don’t freeze up.

Some voice in your head had you moving without thinking. You stepped onto the towel on the floor, not caring about the water you splashed everywhere. You tugged the robe on the back of the door on, quietly locking the door. The floor creaked again, farther away this time, your pulse sharp, painful. You looked around, flipping off the window. Sure, you maybe could have crammed your body through but you really didn’t feel like cutting yourself up before falling fifteen feet to your driveway below.

You snatched your phone and wide paddle hairbrush off the counter, pressing your back against the door. Maybe it wouldn’t do much but at least you’d get one good crack in if somebody came inside.

With wet, shaky fingers you hit the number you’d last dialed and held it to your ear. It rang and rang and rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Tim Bradford. Leave a message.” You re-dialed, heart hammering as another crash, this time glass, echoed throughout the house. You turned off the bathroom light, gripping the phone tight. “Tim Bradford. Leave a message.”

“Pick up the damn phone,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes tight when it went to voicemail a third time. Something broke outside and you cancelled the next call, instead hitting 911 and hoping the cops got there before whoever the hell was in your house found you.

Tim POV

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” I gave her a nod before jogging down her front steps and back towards the shop. A gust of cold wind whipped across the yard, unusual for this time of year. I’d have to throw on my jacket tonight.

“...code 3 at 4192 Sunset Ridge,” crackled over the radio on my hip. I froze for only a moment, ripping my radio off my belt as I ran to the shop and slid behind the wheel.

“7 Adam 15, can you repeat that…” I trailed off as I saw my phone on the dash, four missed calls from Y/N appearing.

“There’s a code 3 at 4192 Sunset Ridge. Home owner reported a B&E. Suspect is inside. Home owner is unable to leave the-”

“Fuck,” I said, hitting the gas, dialing with one hand. “Y/N, pick up the damn phone.”

“Hi. You’ve reached Y/N. Please leave your name and-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I slammed the gas, blowing through an intersection. “Be okay, please be okay.”

Reader POV

“I’m not in trouble am I?” you asked after giving your statement seven minutes later, the officer taking your statement giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Oh no. You acted in self-defense,” he said, screeching tires outside on the street making you both turn your heads towards the open front door. “Stay there a second.”

He stepped outside, allowing you to follow. You peaked your head around him when you heard some sort of commotion. You stepped on the front stoop beside the officer, the man mid run across your front lawn coming up short, staring at you.

“Sergeant? What-” The officer was ignored as Tim walked quickly over and up the steps, breathing hard. 

“Are you okay?” he asked loudly and a little harsh. You glanced at the officer and nodded. Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand on his hip. “If someone breaks in your damn house, you call 911. Immediately. Not me. 911. Children know that for fucks sake.”

“Well fuck you,” you shot back, flipping him off, turning to the officer. “I want this asshole off my damn property.”

“You’re mad at me?” Tim scoffed, the officer trying to back away but you grabbed his arm. 

“I want this insensitive ass gone. Now,” you growled. Tim shot the officer a look, the man shrugging you off.

“Just a wild guess but are you and Sergeant Bradford by chance dating?” he asked calmly. 

“Nolan, leave before I demote you.” The officer scurried away, leaving the two of you glaring at one another. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Why are you yelling at me for calling my cop boyfriend who does patrol in my neighborhood? It was less than a minute before I called 911. Forgive me for not being one of your trained boots and instead hoping my boyfriend would, oh I don’t know, make me feel better when I’m scared shitless right now.”

You stormed inside, going to the kitchen and getting a beer from the fridge.

A gentle hand grasped your wrist, setting the bottle down on the counter. You frowned and turned your head, Tim pulling you into his chest. “Bradford-“

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“You already asked me that.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. You shrugged, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I smacked a guy with my hairbrush and broke his nose…and then I kicked him in the balls and might have bruised his dick…and I don’t feel safe here.”

“That is…impressive and you are staying at my place tonight with me.”

You were about to argue that being alone at his place wasn’t any better but it finally registered what he said. You leaned back and stared up at him. “But you’re working.”

“Just trust me.”

Forty minutes later you were on Tim’s couch in one of his shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. He was talking on the phone before it went quiet and you were greeted to him walking out of the hall in a pair of sweatpants and nothing more. He slipped a smile on his face and took a seat on the couch beside you. 

“Are you in trouble because you left work early?” you mumbled, flicking your finger over a thread that was coming loose on one of his decorative pillows. He sighed, your head turning away when you felt strong arms wrap around your middle and pull you into his side. “Heaven forbid the great Tim Bradford get a mark on his perfect record. I’m fine. Just go back to work.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine but I’m not.” You scrunched up your face but didn’t turn to look back at him. A finger grazed over your cheek, his forehead resting against the back of yours, warm breath fanning over your hair. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I am. But you know I’m…working on my communication skills. I panicked and that’s not something I can do in my job, even when I’m terrified, I have to keep that in check.”

“So what does that mean? You need a smarter girlfriend who calls 911 first?” you said, closing your eyes when he tensed. “Sorry, that was bitchy.”

“All I’m saying is I’m not in the right headspace to go back to work and be safe and you always tell me be safe at work so I’m just doing as told.” You closed your eyes as he kept both arms around you, sliding you into his lap and against his chest. “I’m not picking a fight. I just want to know why you called me first?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought you could get there faster since you were working or you could tell me what to do but I mean, it was like thirty seconds at most before I stopped trying you. You made me feel like a moron in front of people you work with. People who apparently don’t even know who I am after dating for six months.”

“Can you forgive me?” You rested your head on his shoulder, turning into it. He tucked your head under his chin, his skin warm and flush from his shower.

“Yeah. Don’t treat me like that again and I won’t call you in emergencies.” 

“Uh, that is not what I want. You absolutely call me, just call the authorities first.” You threw your head back, looking up at him with a frown. His smile was more teasing now, eyes gentler. “Got all that?”

“You’re annoying,” you grumbled, unwrapping your arms from yourself, giving his body a good squeeze. “But I forgive you.”

“Great. Tomorrow we’ll sign you up for a self-defense class.” You spun out of his hold, Tim holding up his hands as you glared. “I’m joking.”

“Are you? Because I already broke one man’s dick tonight,” you said. He glanced down to where your hand was resting on his stomach, the gears turning in his head. 

“Yeah, but you like my dick. You wouldn’t-” He chocked on his words when you slid your hand down over him. He coughed, swallowing once. “No class, unless you ever wanted to, but that’s totally your call. Honey.”

“Smart boy,” you said, patting his dick lightly and settling back in. He was quiet as he turned on his baseball game and tugged a blanket off the back of the couch over the two of you. You half-watched the game, your mind drifting back to the break-in every few moments. 

“How many square feet is your house again?” he asked out of the blue. You rattled off a number, Tim humming. 

“Why?” 

“Because you can threaten my dick all you want but I am installing a security system for you tomorrow.” You spotted him typing on his phone, adding two more motion sensors to the cart for whatever system he was on. You smiled, sitting up and interrupting his order to cup his cheeks and kiss him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For a second I thought you were going to ask me to move in with you.”

“Eventually,” he countered, tucking the blanket around you further. “But I don’t want to stick a band-aid on this either. Anyone capable of breaking a dick should be confident enough to sleep alone…with a brand new alarm system.”

“But still with frequent sleepovers.”

“Well, that’s just a given.” You sunk back down, starting to finally relax as head rested against yours. “You can sleep. I’ll be right here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[deikshen]

Hear me out: a sort of spiritual communication array that works like a group chat of some Binghe's wives where they gossip and live together more carefree behind their husband's back... where the transmigrated and current rogue cultivator Shen Yuan is accidentally added.

Shen Yuan probably ignores all the messages at first as, well, fuck. A group of gossipy women. He's been in worse group chats, and the company is entertaining when he's been through more two weeks without a trace of another human being hunting a beast. However, you could send some useful answers, some knowledge about plants or medicines that they appreciate!! And they call him "Meimei", so Shen Yuan assumes that they have surely made a mistake with his communication array password... Which is weird, he suppose, because who uses "blessed heavenly pillar" as their password? Anyway. Shen Yuan appreciates the gossipy friends he's making.

Apparently they all live in the same place, are they like, a community? Given certain comments and insinuations between them, perhaps a community of lesbians living under someone's protection? Cool! He was sure that the heavenly pillar definitely wasn't something that could treat lesbianism like a sick and "cure" it (even if he knows that the bastard Airplane would have considered it, nor would he have been capable of that disrespect), so good for them! He liked them too much to end up like part of that harem!! Although being Binghe's wife is a privilege, of course, but one in three hundred...

Shen Yuan doesn't talk much in the group, but he has his favorite "Jiejies"! They're all sweet and nice to him, and even the most unfriendly ones become fond of it after a good recipe for scented soaps or moisturizing creams. Sometimes they even ask him privately with any questions. Shen Yuan feels bad when he has to decline invitations to eat or go listen to music, because he's not even there!! In fact, at this point he's already embarrassed to admit that he was added by mistake and he remained silent about it!!

And, in the midst of one of his travels, Shen Yuan encounters the core of the world. Binghe! Emperor Luo Binghe! They share a small adventure hunting the beast — Luo Binghe looks quite haughty and arrogant, yet vulnerable when he's cooking, illuminated by the fire and with that tiny disheveled braid in his hair. Shen Yuan enjoys his meal and read in the chat, commenting that he remembered some flowers that can be used to dye fabrics, sending the specifications and receiving tens of happy comments about it.

Ah, actually, he doesn't have a bad life. He thinks so. He keeps randomly running into Luo Binghe on his travels, and his friends in the group chat are as gossipy and fun as ever.

And then, one day, Shen Yuan wakes up with an exaggerated amount of messages:

» "I think we'll have to add another one soon"

» "Another one? Damn. How many of us are there?"

» "Three hundred and twelve?"

» "Not everyone is here, in this group there are less than a hundred. The main wives have their own group, too."

» "I thought lady Mingyan was at the beginning?"

» "She was, but she got bored. Mingyan never wants to be in our groups since we criticized thata bad novel about the ice king and his spy"

» "Hualing neither, but she caused the first group to collapse with her rudeness"

» "But why add another one? You're getting off topic, ladies. Husband's been away again?"

» "Phew, honey. If only you knew. He goes off and comes back like a puppy. I've never seen that look on his face"

» "He looks young and adorable. Hualing was complaining about that the other day"

» "I mean, husband always looks handsome, but he has this glow. The glow when he's falling in love, again. I haven't seen him like that in a long time"

» "Me neither! I thought I'd never see him shine like that again after the third week of our wedding"

» "Same sis. Since the second one. It's nice to see him shine happily even if he's not looking at me"

» "Do we know who she is? From which realm? A demon? A cultivator? Details, details!!"

» "We need more demons, badass girls"

» "Husband says he's going hunting. He comes back with beasts and flowers. But also with that smile. So I'm guessing a cultivator"

» "Hell, more? They'll beat us by a landslide"

» "Girl, don't complain. More to bite on"

» "When you stop being being super close and eating together, we can talk about how we can't let husband ruin it with this?"

» "Why would a husband ruin it?"

» "He is our husband"

» "You're absolutely right. Fuck he's going to ruin it"

» "What should we do?"

» "First, find out about her! Warn her! Tell her that our husband is a fool but has a good heart deep down!! Who has permission to leave the palace? Has anyone spoken to Yingying lately?!"

» "We have to warn her about the size of his dick"

» "That too. I would have appreciated being prepared"

» "I married him after reading the yellow books about him, AND I WASN'T PREPARED"

» "No one is. My poor flower"

» "Too much information"

» "I'm not sorry"

» "Girls GIRLS GIRLS. For heaven's sake. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I JUST FOUND OUT."

» "If it doesn't have to do with our husband's new conquest, it's irrelevant gossip."

» "It has to do with"

» "SPIT IT OUT"

» "His new conquest is not a woman"

» "what"

» "WHAT?"

» "?????"

» "Listen, but it makes sense, right? Husband could be a cut sleeve that didn't notice until now. So that's why there are so many of us. None of us can be enough because we're missing something, you know, important."

» "A dick"

» "I was going to say a pillar, but you get the point."

» "Where did you hear that from?"

» "Our husband was telling General Mobei. That he should prepare a trunk of fine men's robes, that he would soon bring his new traveling companion to see the palace. That he plans to move him into his private chambers."

» "NO FUCKING WAYYY"

» "Hualing will explode"

» "I haven't seen a good attempt in years, do you want to bet?"

» "Do we know anything else?"

» "I don't know his name, sorry, that's all I have. He is a small rogue cultivator"

» "How small?"

» "By the measurements that husband requested for his robes, 5'6"

» "Damn it"

» "Short"

» "Oh damn, his poor chrysanthemum"

» "OH FUCK"

» "NO WAY"

» "HOW THE HELL DOES OUR HUSBAND'S COCK FIT IN SOMETHING SO SMALL? FUCK"

» "I will put incense in the name of his hole"

» "Oh girl, me too"

Shen Yuan stops reading with a mixture of horror, shame, and panic. What. The. Fuck. HOW THE FUCK DID HE END UP IN THAT GROUP? In the DAMNED BINGHE WIFE GROUP. Fuck. Oh fuck.

And yes, HE HAD agreed to visit Luo Binghe's palace, BUT only because he had mentioned that it had been a long time since he had slept in a bed and had a nice hot bath!! And Luo Binghe had been an exceptional gentleman and good friend offering to visit the palace and receive some care! Nothing perverted like those wives talked about!!

Oh, those wives. Damn. How come he'd been infiltrating that chat for MONTHS without realizing it!? Yes, it was true that when there were MANY messages he would ignore them and just skip them... But he would have stopped immediately if someone had mentioned Binghe directly!! But FUCK. They only mentioned him as "husband" and Shen Yuan's radar on anything where Binghe was mentioned didn't go off. Fuck.

Well, that's fine. He's not... a conquest. Nothing like that. Shen Yuan is sure of that! The protagonist is 100% heterosexual, no matter what those wives say!!! They're his wives damn, they should know how straight he is!!

He'll go to that palace, prove that he's just a good friend of Binghe, and that's it!

(In the future, when he is already married with Luo Binghe and one of Binghe's many wives asks for his communication array password to add him to a group chat to, he know, chat and share, Shen Yuan runs away with a red face. That same night, everyone is saddened because the kind and sweet Meimei who knew a lot about beast, flowers and remedies left the group.)

[girlfromflor]

alpha!kyle has been a current thought in my head, so i wrote about him coming back home after a long mission.

it's his fourth day home since his last mission ended.

kyle has you tucked close to him, under the covers inside the big nest you made for yourselves. he still smells a bit like tiredness, the exhaustion from the battlefield clinging to his muscles but it's almost imperceptible now.

your sweet, honey-like scent mingles with his and into the fabric enveloping you. there's a low, constant purr rumbling in your chest, scratching an itch on kyle’s mind that he waited so long to get rid of.

he's home. safe and sound with his omega so close to him, happy and purring at his presence. the notion makes his own chest vibrate with a purr as an answer, the growl of it making clear how his alpha scrapes the edges of his consciousness.

it's probably early in the morning, kyle doesn't look for his watch nor his phone, instead just basking in the dim, morning light seeping through the window – which is opened only a bit, the cold wind from outside making the fabric of the curtain swing ever so slightly.

despite the breeze, he's warm where he lays with you. the heavy weight of faux fur fabric working well on keeping your naked bodies' warmth secured inside the blanket fort you call a nest. you've been naked ever since he came home – his clothes smelling like blood and gunpowder, alpha stressed and tired, growling grumpily at the thought of fabrics keeping your skins from touching each other.

you haven't fucked nor have you indulged in any type of sexual activity, it didn't felt quite right yet. instead he just stripped off his clothes, dragging you around the house so you both can, in this very order: get cleaned up in a quick shower, eat something light and settle on the big nest you have in the corner of the living room, napping on the cushions that cover the floor inside it.

he knows you're awake and you're aware he's too, but none of you say a word. it's peaceful like this. the calm, quiet atmosphere working the remaining of his stress away, giving you time to fully push away the sleepy haze that has been pulling at you, until you move from his arms to stare up at his beautiful face.

his eyes are closed, eyelids shut very lightly. his lips pressed to one another, but they part as soon as he takes in your shifting scent – which is reacting to his relaxed, laid back expression –, nose twitching to take it in better. he grumbles, one hand brushing down your side to hold your hip as the other runs its fingers to your hair.

his eyes are sharp and lidded when he opens them to stare at you, making a shiver run down your spine. you've never been so close to having him bared to his soul in front of you, alpha so present it makes his scent almost fresh out of the woods. it brings your omega from where she was resting far inside your mind, her claws scratching softly around your head, urging you to sleep so she can step in.

it's been like this for four days. it's always rough for him, coming down from mission-mode, but this time kyle's inner alpha seems ready to fight for control, begging for your omega to comfort him at all costs. you both allowed it to happen the first day – and the second –, having to hold back on it by the morning of the third day. you couldn’t risk going feral together, not without someone to watch over you two.

kyle seems to read your mind, your bond doing most of the talking as you bask in the silence, the room quiet except for the – now almost inaudible – purr coming from deep within your chests. his voice is low and hoarse when he speaks, a groan following as he cleans his throat and tries again.

"could ask john to come over, honey..." he mumbles on his thick accent, holding you while he watches your reaction. "he could watch us next time, mhm? he's a good alpha, he'd take care of us..."

"mhm..." your hum of agreement is barely an answer, the grunt coming from him making it clear that he wants you to elaborate. "if you trust him, than it's fine by me, love."

kyle hums then, pleased with your answer. his adorable omega, relying on him whilst taking care of his once exhausted body, helping him work through the tiredness and out of the alert mode he had to depend on so much over the last few weeks – giving him enough support so he could recover from weeks of soldier-like routine on a hostile environment in only a couple of days.

he truly does love you a lot and maybe it's time he shows it to you, rewarding you for been so good to him.

a/n: part of I'LL CALL THE MOON: COLLECTION (coming soon)

[milatiny-xx]

starry eyes | p.sh

pairing: park seonghwa x gn!reader summary: it's not like hwa to be distant or distracted. he keeps canceling on you last minute. things are bad, and you're starting to get suspicious. when he calls you by the wrong name during an argument, it feels like the end. how will your star make it up to you? (requested) warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, happy ending! wc: 3.1k a/n: i bought 2 versions of golden hour part 3 and GUESS WHOSE photocards i gotttt. i did get a sannie pc and a yeosang credit card sticker but EVERYTHING ELSE was seonghwa like relaxxxx mother. he's coming for yunho's spot ig. also this photo of him??? criminal.

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You blink away tears as you stare down at the message. You read it over and over again, as if your desperation would magically change the words.

Your dinner reservation is in less than an hour.

It's the third time this week he's cancelled a date on you last minute. The fifth time this month...you think? You're starting to lose track.

It's very unlike Hwa to act like this. He's always so organized, put-together, almost annoyingly so. His room is spotless, his legos and other decorations dusted and displayed neatly. He's never late. He's never dirty. He never forgets anything when traveling. Cancelling a date in general is not something he normally does. Backing out last minute? He hates schedule changes like that.

It's that stupid model. You know it. You were practically told that by KQ.

Of course, you were overjoyed for Seonghwa when he told you he had the opportunity to model and walk in a show for Dior. Nothing in this world could have made you prouder. You want him to do it—you really do. It's just...

The campaign he's modeling for requires a variety of couples shoots. There's one model in particular that he seems to be spending a lot of time with. And, of course, that model is one of the most gorgeous people you've ever seen. You know he would never cheat on you or hurt you intentionally in any way.

But it's not easy when he shows you the proofs of him grasping a woman's nonexistent waist or trailing a finger down a man's sharpened jaw. As always, he looks absolutely radiant and totally chic in every shot. You just wish he had more solo photos.

To make matters worse, he's been insanely busy. With his new modeling responsibilities on top of his already jam-packed ATEEZ schedules, he's barely had time for you recently.

Part of it is his busy schedule. The other part is KQ's doing.

A blurry photo of you and Hwa holding hands while leaving a restaurant had raised some attention on social media. Not viral level but enough that Hwa was catching some heat online. KQ suggested that he spend some more time working and interacting with other celebrities publicly. Just until the rumors died down.

Like a professional, Seonghwa had done exactly as they asked. He went to work and came home, sneaking time with you at odd hours here and there. You didn't like it, but to protect him, you'd do anything.

That had started three months ago.

You weakly raise your thumb to like his message. You don't know how else to respond. You could say "okay," but it doesn't feel okay anymore. It hurts.

Okay...so no dinner tonight. You'll have to figure something out and will probably be eating by yourself. Again.

By the time you've gathered the energy to get off the couch and shower, it's late. You're not even hungry anymore. You aim for the bedroom and curl up into the sheets, preparing for more doomscrolling. Your eyes are starting to blink closed until a headline catches your attention.

ATEEZ'S SEONGHWA SPOTTED OUTSIDE A-LIST RESTAURANT WITH MYSTERY PARTNER

You scramble up in bed, heart pounding as you click through the article. Your eyes move rapidly across the screen, frantically trying to digest the words.

Then, the photo—two figures in masks walking side by side, shoulders brushing. It's partly obstructed by a building, so it's hard to tell who it actually is. But it does look like Seonghwa. You zoom in as far as you can, groaning when the photo gets too pixelated to see clearly.

Something in your gut lurches when you notice a dainty silver bracelet on the wrist. It's him. Hwa has a bracelet exactly like that. A gift. From you.

You feel sick. Exhausted. Betrayed. Most of all? Enraged.

You don't even feel like crying, you're so angry. With shaking hands, you gather your blanket and plant yourself firmly on the couch, turning off all the lights. Then, you wait.

Three hours later, at two in the morning, the front door softly clicks open. You slowly turn your head toward the sound, gritting your teeth and flattening your lips. Seonghwa's thin frame slips through the crack in the door, and he quietly puts down his things. He flips on the light and turns. A yelp escapes his throat, arms frozen halfway through shrugging off his jacket.

"Oh my god, Y/N," he says, holding a slender hand to his chest. "You scared me half to death. What are you doing up? It's so late, my star. You should be in bed."

"Couldn't sleep," you deadpan.

"Oh no, really?" his eyes soften, and he moves toward you. "Why not? Bad dreams?"

"You could say that."

He kneels in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. He smiles up at you, softly, gently, and so handsomely. It only makes your heart burn more.

"Well, how about I change my clothes, and then I'll snuggle you until you can fall asleep."

You clench your jaw, tears already threatening to spill. You feel so sick. Your blood is boiling. How could he act like this, like everything's fine and dandy, when he's been treating you like this? Canceling your plans just so he can spend time with someone else... Your anger must be evident on your face, because Seonghwa's smile drops. Concern floods his expression.

"What's wrong, darling?" he asks quietly, eyes searching your face. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

He reaches up to touch you. Instinctively, you jerk away.

"Oh, I don't know," you snap. "Why don't you tell me?"

You shove your phone into his outstretched hand.

He fumbles to grasp it, glancing up at you with knitted eyebrows. You watch his gaze flick back and forth as he scans the article. His eyes widen, mouth dropping open in disbelief. You cross your arms over your chest and try not to cry. Seonghwa shakes his head.

"Oh no. No, no, no," he mutters. "No, this isn't right. I...this isn't true." His eyes catch yours, round and panicked and glassy. "Jagi, please, you have to know this story isn't true. It was just a company dinner."

"I don't know. You look pretty cozy in the photos. Oh, let me guess, next, you're going to tell me that's not even you."

He hesitates, long enough that you know it is. He was outside that restaurant. With them. Rage beats through you. You pop to your feet, moving to step around him. His hand lunges out, circling around your thigh.

"Y/N, my star, please listen. It wasn't anything. It was nothing, I swear. We didn't do anything. It was just a company dinner, that's all. It was last minute, and I...please, what can I do? How can I fix this? I-I'll never go out to a company dinner again if-"

"It's not just that, Seonghwa!" you explode, pulling back your leg. "It's everything! I barely see you anymore. You never make our dates. You always cancel, and you don't even have the bravery to do it in advance. These days my plans are always changing last minute. And then I see you out there with these other people? What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to trust you?"

"You can. You can trust me, I promise. I-I haven't done anything with anyone. I don't know how to...to prove it. But please just listen to me."

You shake your head.

"No, I don't want to anymore. I'm tired."

He sighs frustratedly. As you stomp toward the bedroom, you can hear him raising his voice to try and keep up with you. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears that you have no idea what he's saying. You're in the middle of slamming the door closed, when his hand launches out to stop it. You gasp, glaring up at him. His expression has turned angry, aggravated like how it gets when you mess with his legos while he's trying to build something.

"You're being so unreasonable," he says through gritted teeth. "You won't even let me try to explain-"

"No! I shouldn't have to listen to you! You're obviously a liar anyway, and I-"

"Just give me five seconds, Alex!" (if your name actually is alex, so sorry i was trying to pick a GN name and this was the first one i could think of LOL)

Your breath catches in your throat. You can feel your heart cracking into a hundred tiny pieces. You blink at him, mouth quivering. It takes a moment before the realization hits him. He called you by someone else's name...

His anger melts immediately, replaced with desperate panic. He shakes his head, falling onto his knees in front of you.

"Y/N," he says your name—correctly this time—so quietly, so softly that it hurts. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

You just shake your head, tears overflowing and streaming down your cheeks.

"Go away. I can't..." your voice chokes. "...be around you right now."

His eyes grow glassy, lips trembling. He reaches out for you, but you back away. Hot tears slip down your face as you stare at him, helpless and desperate on the floor. He's crying now, too. His mouth opens as if he's going to say something but closes. He stands slowly, avoiding your gaze, and backs out of the room. Before he closes the door, you catch him through the mirror, looking pathetically back at you as you crawl into bed.

"I'm sorry..." he whispers.

You pretend not to hear.

Seonghwa closes the door softly. You bury yourself under every blanket and pillow you can find. You don't even bother to take your socks off. You just lie there, enraptured in darkness and pain. You cry and cry and cry until your nose is so stuffed that you can barely breathe. Then you blow your nose and pull the cover over your head. You don't even know when you finally pass out from exhaustion.

The first time you wake up, it's still dark outside. You feel groggy and confused. You have no idea what time it is. You stay awake for a few moments before fading back into sleep.

The second time, the sun is up. You lazily glance at the clock. It's after noon. Nothing in the room has been disturbed. It doesn't look like Seonghwa has tried to come in. You wonder if he's been at the door, if he's tried to say anything. You reach for your phone just to check. Nothing. Your heart aches. It's so quiet in the apartment, you wonder if he's given up. Your stomach grumbles, but you ignore it and bury yourself deeper into the covers. Sleep takes you again.

The third time you wake up, it must be only a few hours later. A soft knock on the door brings you out of sleep. You can hear Seonghwa's soft voice asking if you're hungry, pleading with you to eat. You ignore it and bite away more tears.

The fourth time, it's dark again. When you go to turn over, something under the door catches your eye. It's a bowl with something inside. Looks like ramen. Probably cold. There's a note beside it that you don't bother to read. The room has been tidied slightly, the fallen pillows replaced on the bed, the blanket straightened over your body. You wonder how long ago he snuck in to do all of this. Your heart aches. You wish this fixed the hurt in your heart. But it doesn't.

The fifth time you wake up, it's because Seonghwa is gently shaking you. Despite sleeping all day, you're exhausted. When his face comes into view, your heart cracks. You sigh frustratedly and move to turn away. He catches your shoulder. You glare back at him, heart totally shattered at the sight of his adorable little boba eyes.

"Please, don't ignore me," he says quietly. His voice is raspy, strained like he's been shouting. No...crying. He's been crying. Even in the dim light spilling from the hall, you can see the red rings around his eyes.

"I know nothing I say can make up for what I did," he continues, "how I've been acting and treating you. But...I have something I'd like to show you. If you let me."

You shake your head and open your mouth to say no, but he interrupts, "Please. I'm begging."

Even though you're still angry, your heart swells. You love him. God, you love when he looks at you like that. Like you're everything. You nod.

"Fine, but make it quick," you reply. "I'm exhausted."

His face breaks into a smile, the relief evident across his delicate features. He carefully helps you to your feet and leads you into the bathroom. You fight him the whole way. You wash your face, and he turns away while you change into a clean set of pajamas. Once cleaned up, he wraps a blanket around your shoulders and guides you into the kitchen where he hands you a warm mug. You sniff it and smile slightly.

"It's my favorite," you muse quietly.

"I made it just how you like it. I thought you might be thirsty."

You feel angry suddenly. Why is he acting like this makes up for everything? Like he can just make you some tea and bring you pajamas and cold ramen and suddenly everything's fine. You flatten your lips.

"So...is this it? Because if so-"

"No, no this isn't it," he blurts, eyes widening. "No, please, come this way. It's out here."

He gestures to the balcony. You raise an eyebrow but let him lead you out of curiosity.

The string lights he'd hung across the balcony when you moved in are lit up. They cast a gentle golden light over the small space. Positioned in the middle of the balcony is a telescope that you don't remember seeing there before. You glance back at him, and he nods.

He leads you to it and straightens it for you. You stand in front of it stupidly, wondering what he wants from you. He slides in behind you, his breath warm on the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Look."

You point at the telescope, and he nods again. You peer down into it, adjusting your eye so that you can see whatever he's trying to show you.

"What am I looking at? It's...a bunch of stars," you say dryly.

"Do you see the one in the middle? The really bright one?"

"Yeah, sure. What about it?"

"That's Y/N."

You pull away from the telescope, looking back at him confusedly.

"What?"

"That star, it's name is Y/N."

"What are you talking about, Seonghwa?"

"You're my star, my guiding light. I wanted to give you something to show you that, to show you how important you are to me. So, I bought that star and named it after you."

Your heart swells. He's always called you his star. That's his special nickname reserved only for you. You don't know how to react. So many emotions are swirling around your head at the same time. You just stare at him blankly.

"A-and I got you this, too," he stutters, rummaging behind one of the chairs.

When he comes back up, he hands you a little navy box with a silver thread wrapped around it. You glance up at him before taking and carefully unwrapping it. You can feel his eagerness as he watches you like a hawk, his eyes flicking between your face and the box. Your breath catches when you lift the lid.

It's a small silver necklace with a star pendant. You look back at him again. His eyebrows are lifted in hope. You gently pick up the necklace to examine it. The pad of your finger scrapes against something on the back. You flip the pendant. The words My star are engraved in Hwa's handwriting with your anniversary date inscribed below. Your lip quivers.

When your gaze lifts, Hwa is on his knees—when did that happen?—staring up at you with his hands clasped. Wound around his fingers is a matching necklace.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he says. "I never, ever meant to hurt you. I would never want that. I know I've been busy, distracted, disrespectful to you. I know I can never make up for it. I know those photos looked bad. But I promise you, it was just a company dinner, nothing else. I should have made time for you, and I will moving forward. Please, don't leave me. Because if you do, every time I look at that star, my heart will break all over again. I'll wear this," he gestures to the necklace, "every day of my life. Everyone will know I'm yours and that you're mine. I'll carry you in my heart every second of every day, because you're my star. Always and forever."

As soon as the last three words escape his lips, you crash onto your knees and throw your arms around his neck. He teeters backward but rebounds in a second, arms wrapping around your waist. He drops his head into your neck. His panting breath heats your skin. Tears stream down your face, soaking his shirt under your chin. His hands roam everywhere, over your back, shoulders, neck, hair. He clutches you like if he were to let go, you would vanish into thin air.

"Oh, Hwa...I'm sorry," you mumble. "I'm sorry I was so harsh. I shouldn't have been so angry. I know you're busy, and I want you to succeed. I want you to have all of this. I'm so proud of you, and I should have said it. I should have trusted you. I know that. I was just...I was so scared of losing you."

Somehow, his grip tightens even more around you.

"You could never lose me. I'm here, forever and always."

You pull back, sniffing and wiping your tears messily. But you smile when you see his sweet eyes staring back at you. You reach up to wipe his tears from his cheeks.

"I'll be better," you say to him quietly. "I promise. More supportive, more understanding, more trusting."

He smiles, sliding his palm onto your face. He gently moves your lips to his, savoring the taste of your kiss. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on yours, his fingers gingerly brushing your hair back.

"I'll be more attentive, more present, and I'll never, ever cancel on you last minute. I promise."

You smile, nudging your nose against his.

"I love you, Hwa."

"I love you too, my star."

taglist: @rileylovescats @wooyoungsbrat @estrnrea @strawberrymars98 @elunicornus

[twisted-broth]

Emergency Rendezvous

Introduction

TW: accidental drugging, aphrodisiacs (no actual smut yet but reader is v horny)

You swat Grim's paws away from the ingredients on the table for the third time while Crewel continued explaining the science behind your assigned potion. He grumbled impatiently, resting his chin on the workbench. With the hand not prepared to Throw Down, you copied Crewel's drawing of some kind of chemical synapse with little bubbles in between labeled "endorphins".

"What makes this solution so potent is the ability of our magic ingredients to act directly on endorphin-releasing pathways in the brain, encouraging the body's natural painkiller system rather than introducing an artificial one. This greatly reduces the risk of addiction seen in non-magical analgesics. While this potion is relatively low risk, and hopefully easy enough that even you pups can't mess it up, there is a significant overlap with nearby pathways that may produce unintended effects. I trust that I've trained you properly enough to thoroughly check the labels on your ingredients and weigh them carefully."

The moment Crewel ended his lecture, Grim was grabbing at the various powders and herbs. With barely a glance given to the textbook in between you two, he started haphazardly shaking the magical- and probably expensive- elements into a weigh boat on the scale.

"Grim! What part of 'read the label' did you not understand?" You reach for the bottle, but are too slow to stop Grim from tossing the ingredient into your cauldron. You sigh wearily, resigned to leave the fate of your grade in Grim's trigger-happy paws. You manage to double check most of the ingredients before they're added to the mix, surprisingly in the correct order. After over a year spent with your troublesome pet/friend/roommate/co-student, you've learned to adopt an "it is what it is" mindset.

When the concoction is finally done, you're honestly shocked to see that your potion is the same color as everyone else's. To make it even better, nothing exploded in the process! You swirled the blue potion around in the flask, admiring the iridescent tone.

"Good dogs!" Crewel congratulated the class, almost sounding surprised that nothing had gone wrong. "Since you've all signed your waivers, and the risk associated is low, I'll allow you to test your products now or save them for later. If you experience any adverse side effects, inform me at once. Class dismissed!"

You eyed the potion on the desk in front of you, weighing the risks it posed. A tap on your shoulder stole your attention, and you swiveled around to see Ace sporting his usual self-righteous smirk. Beside him, Deuce was curiously sniffing their own creation.

"What d'ya think, prefect? Gonna give it a taste test?"

You respond with a weary laugh, finding that the shimmer of the potion was becoming less and less appealing. "I don't know... I mean I don't really have any pain right now. I guess my back is a bit sore?" You reply noncommittally.

Ace rolled his eyes with a tsk. "Aw, c'mon! Crewel never lets us try the potions we make. I, for one, have a killer headache. Cough it up Loosey Deucey!"

Ace swipes the flask from Deuce's hands, ignoring his scoff of protest. With disturbingly little hesitation, he downs the potion in seconds and licks the stray blue droplets from the corner of his mouth. The three of you watch him with mixed expressions of anxiety and curiosity, waiting for the potion to take effect. After another minute or so, Ace's eyes widened in excitement. "Hey, it's totally working! Damn that's a lot better!"

"And of course you had to go and hog it all to yourself," Deuce grumbled, resting his head on the workbench.

Grim pushed your experimental product closer to you. "Well? Go on, henchhuman! Anything the Great Grim makes will be 10x better than those two."

You raised an eyebrow, highly doubtful of Grim's claim considering his disregard for proper measurements. You open your mouth to voice your hesitation, but the excitement in his eyes gives you pause. Well, Crewel did say the potion was pretty low-risk, even if you did make it wrong. And you suppose even Grim deserves some semblance of a win on occasion. With a heavy sigh, you raise the flask to your lips and down the concoction.

You're pleasantly surprised by how good it tastes. Not that you were really paying attention to the ingredients, but you just assumed it would be terrible. Instead, the faint taste of honeysuckle and lavender dances across your tongue, gracing your throat with a warm coating on the way down. You can trace the warmth down your chest and into the stomach, where it slowly dissipates throughout the rest of your body. Despite the pleasant sensation, you say with certainty that your back ache had gone away. Rather, you were distracted from the dull pain as the same warm feeling flooded and settled in your groin.

Either from the potion or the realization of your situation, a furious blush burned your cheeks and ears. It took nearly a minute for you to regain your composure and notice the voices of your friends calling out to you in concern.

"Y/n! Are you alright?" Deuce gently placed a hand on your forearm, trying to bring you back to reality. You gasp at the touch, quickly withdrawing your arm as though you had been burned. Noticing your friends hurt expression, you cleared your throat in embarrassment.

"Sorry! Just a different sensation than I was expecting. You did great Grim! It works really well." You laugh unconvincingly, already feeling a drop of sweat budding at your temple.

Ignoring the various expressions of concern and confusion, you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your chair over in the process. You make quick work of gathering your belongings, using all your focus to hold onto your last bit of composure.

"Sorry guys, I forgot that I uh... told Azul I would help out at the lounge! It'll be suuuuper boring though, so you guys should go on without me. I'll catch up to you later!" Without leaving room for protest, you rushed out of the lab room, hiding your beet-red face behind your free hand.

Within minutes, you were urgently knocking on Crewel's office door. The sudden noise summoned two large black noses to the narrow gap under the door where they sniffed intently at your feet. From within the office, you hear Crewel call out for you to enter. The dogs retreat from the door at the sound of their master's voice, allowing you space to slip in and close the door quickly behind you.

Although Crewel initially only glances in your direction, he does a double take at the sight of your flushed face and sweat-drenched brow. Two lanky Dalmatians regard you with mild intrigue from their large bed in the corner, where they lay daintily on top of one another. A rare look of concern crosses Crewel's features. "Prefect? Are you alright?"

You stay pressed against the door, trying to distance yourself from the tempting scent of Crewel's cologne. Your hand feebly attempts to cover your nose and mouth, and you shake your head no. "O-our potion," you stutter, "I think something went wrong".

Continuing to test your self control, Crewel stands and approaches you, assessing your vulnerable state. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead to feel for a fever. To your continued humiliation, a quiet whine escapes you at the contact. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly dawns a mask of professionalism as he retracts his hand.

"I see. Well, as I mentioned in lecture, slight alterations in the potion's formula can trigger alternate pathways which are also mediated by endorphins. One such pathway is the arousal pathway. It would seem that significant enough errors were made that your potion activated your arousal pathway, rather than the intended pain relief pathway". He explains the error matter-of-factly, returning to his desk.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. Arousal pathway? Doesn't the universe ever get tired of playing practical jokes on you? The persistent throbbing in your core sent the clear message that it doesn't. You groan, burying your face in your hands in an attempt to disappear from the face of the earth. "Can you undo it?"

"I'm afraid the only inhibitor of such endorphins is prolactin, the neurotransmitter released after orgasm. Unfortunately, we've yet to artificially synthesize an effective substitute. Otherwise, your body should metabolize the potion in eight hours." You were appreciative of Crewel's calm and even tone. Even if it didn't cure your current predicament, maybe you'll be able to look him in the eyes again someday.

Making the choice to not dig this hole even deeper, you gave him a grateful bow and quickly departed. Your mind was swimming as you made a beeline for Ramshackle, hoping to make it home before your knees started buckling. At last, you shut the door to your quiet dorm building. Your heart pounded in your ears, though if it was racing from the speed walking or the overwhelming arousal coursing through your blood, you weren't sure.

In any case, your options were to suffer for eight hours, or to get fucked. Well, you would be fucked either way. Your legs finally gave out by the time you had crawled to your bed and curled up on your side. The pillow trapped between your thighs did little to reduce the pressure that consumed every thought. As you stripped down to your underwear, your trembling fingers and raging heart made it very apparent that you weren't in any state to be able to take care of this yourself.

Several faces flashed through your mind, innocent encounters with your friends being quickly perverted in your brain. With less apprehension than was probably warranted, you pulled out your phone and opened your contacts. It wasn't an impressively long list, but nonetheless you quickly found the name you were looking for. The voice of reason in your head insisted that you would never live this down, but it was quickly gagged by the larger majority of your brain that was begging to be fucked.

With shaky hand, you pressed the call button.

A/n: if you missed the poll, I'm hoping to make this a series (no promises). Either way, the first victim will be Leona 😮‍💨

[erwinsvow]

OMG I WAS THE ANON WHO SENT SMTH ABT ASKING JACK ABBOT TO BE UR BOYFRIEND A BAR AND SITTING IN HIS LAP TO ESCAPE A CREEP (unless tumblr ate my ask bc it hates me), BUT IVE BEEN WATCHING ANIMAL KINGDOM AND IM FROTHING AY THE MOUTH NOW THINKING ABT POPE AND THAT SITUATION GRHAGEHEH

im only on s2 of animal kingdom but i just ADORE how you write pope and i needed to share this with you because whenever i think of pope's characterization i think of you frfr

i actually went so physically insane over this prompt. i was counting down the minutes until school ended so i could write this and it's so small but i hope you like it. it would be perfect for jack but ohmygod for pope. imagine this is how he meets wifey or something. jesus lord

he sits on a stool at deran's bar, right against the counter, because he doesn't have anywhere else to be. anywhere else to go right now. there's bruises littered across his back and a visible scratch on his neck and one on his forehead that's still healing. a wrapped up hand picks up his beer and takes a long sip before setting it down a little harder than he intended.

the place is packed—it always is. some part of andrew, deep inside, is happy for deran. the people here are drunk and chattery and he knows that there's regulars and locals who prefer this place. his brother created something that others love, that people go to willingly.

and andrew hasn't felt anything close to that feeling in forever. he takes another drink of his beer, this time until it's empty, and raises it towards the bartender. he doesn't know where deran is tonight, probably out mixed in the crowd, mingling and talking. craig is probably with him. and like always, andrew is alone.

the bartender brings over another and takes the empty bottle away. it's his third or fourth—though it takes so much to get him drunk, he hasn't even begun to feel the stupid effects of it yet. and all around him, people keep partying, talking, drinking. loud over the music that plays in the background. it's all too loud.

this one will have to be his last. he needs to go home. but the idea of going inside the house, to his bedroom, to the bedroom that was lena's, makes him think the beer might come back up. he'll take the truck to the beach, sit there for a few hours. roll the window down so there's nothing but quiet and ocean waves. nothing can fix how he's been feeling recently, but maybe that can patch it up for a few hours, a temporary band-aid. (what he really needs is something closer to surgery, but he can't think about that right now. band-aid it is.)

he takes a breath, shoulders rising in the black shirt he'd worn today. another sip of his beer. and just when he decides it's time to go be alone—always, he's always alone—he feels a tap on his shoulder. there's a healing bruise, yellow and green, there so he winces briefly before turning to face who it is��craig or deran. he's not sure who else it could be.

and then he sees you. blinking up at him, eyes fluttering quickly. breathing heavy and turning your neck as if someone's following you. you look jittery and nervous, though for once, it's not directed at him. it makes something dark and protective wash over him briefly. you take little shallow breaths, he can tell from how your chest heaves, when he turns and faces you all the way. he doesn't think he's ever seen you before.

"yes?"

"w-what's your name?" you turn again, like you're waiting for someone to show up behind you.

"my name?" he repeats quietly. he can barely hear you over the continual drone of the bar and the shitty music. you nod quickly, taking a step closer to him. you slide between his seat and the seat next to him, standing there, so close that a couple more inches and you'd be touching him, skin to skin.

you don't look drunk. you're not slurring your words or stumbling. your hands are empty, your eyes still scanning the crowd. you're wearing a pretty dress and he stares at the strap of it on your bare shoulder momentarily before meeting your eyes again.

"your name. please, i-"

"it's andrew."

"andrew. andrew, i-" he almost doesn't catch the rest of your sentence. the way you say his name catches him off guard. slow and sweet and you said it twice like you're really making sure it's him. you say it as if you're happy it's him. he doesn't think he's ever heard it said like that before. "-i know this is going to sound crazy, but i really need help, um-"

and some instinct in him rises up quickly, washing over his body like a flood wave. that you need help. that you picked him to ask for it. that you seem jittery and nervous but maybe a flicker calmer than you were a moment ago. and he did that. and the satisfaction from that makes him incredibly glad he didn't leave after his last beer.

"what's wrong?" he interrupts you, but you notice it. how he sits up straighter, how his bruised hand twitches. it doesn't hover over you, yet, but he keeps it ready as though he might have to at any moment. his eyes are hyper-focused on yours. he listens to every word. and somehow, though you just walked up to the first guy you thought wasn't completely drunk, you think you're safe with him.

"this guy-" but you don't get to finish. since andrew locked eyes with you, you hadn't looked around to see if the guy that's been bothering you all night was getting closer. you couldn't find your friends and he'd used that opportunity to get right next to you and not take no for an answer. so you'd split the second he turned around, getting through the crowd as quickly as you could, wondering if maybe the bartender could help. but realizing a lesson your friends had told you a long time ago—the only no a guy like that will listen to is if it comes from another guy—you walked right up to a stranger in a black shirt instead.

"there you are-" the voice booms. you freeze mid-sentence, something andrew does not like at all. your expression changes, worry drapes over your face again, and despite andrew never being good at these things, he knows you're very uncomfortable. "was looking all over for you. where were we?"

you don't turn right away. your eyes stay locked on andrew's, taking one step closer to him.

but andrew doesn't half-ass anything. certainly not this, when you're trembling like a leaf and he can tell his drunk asshole won't stop bothering you. wordlessly, just from your pretty, worried eyes. he moves his hands to your waist—gently, but firmly. he doesn't wander them, just keeps them in place, still sitting down, moving his gaze from your eyes to the guy's.

but you worry, momentarily, that it's not enough. the asshole looks from you to andrew, to andrew's hands. before you can stop to think about it too much, you perch yourself against him, sitting on his lap. you swing your arm around his neck and keep a hand on his bicep to steady yourself. and andrew plays along perfectly, finding it too easy to bring one hand to your knee and keeping the other on your waist and look up at the guy in question.

he doesn't have to say anything. he knows that he recognizes him.

"oh," the guy starts, backing up a step right away. "i thought you were kidding about the boyfriend. you didn't say it was-"

"she wasn't," andrew says, though unbeknownst to you, he means it. "do we have a problem?"

"no, no, pope, no man. sorry about that, i'll-"

"tell her sorry." you turn your gaze from the encounter between the two men to andrew, not sure why he said that.

"i-i'm sorry-" he stumbles out, before walking away quickly. you must have picked the right guy to ask for help—he seems incredibly scared of andrew. briefly you wonder if you should be scared too.

"thank you," you say, looking back at andrew. he's looking at you too, and you don't realize how close your faces are until you can feel his breath against your cheek. he blinks up at you, not looking away. "oh, i'm sorry, i'll move-"

but his hands are firm on you, keeping you in place.

"stay." the way he says it, it doesn't feel like you have much of a choice. but you'd be an idiot to run from a man who just helped save you when you couldn't find your friends or anyone else to do so. his huge arm feels tense and taut under your hand and it's easy to melt into his grip, getting comfortable against him. you almost feel like you can trust him, like you didn't just meet him ten minutes ago.

"can i buy you another beer? to thank you?"

"yeah. sure."

[captivating-flavors]

mine | caleb

pairing: college au caleb x non mc reader

prompt: -

summary: you're going on a date. caleb wants to stop you.

words: 1,221

warning(s): possessiveness, obsessiveness, mc being referred to as caleb's adoptive sister

a/n: ok its like almost 3am and i got work tmr lol but i got so inspired whilst i was on my way home from work today so i kinda just finished this like half an hour ago and in one sitting and so yeah this is pretty much unedited andddd i sort of told @mayooness that i might make a part two of this into either a jealous caleb smut or fluff but i still dk (also putting into consideration the fact that i suck at writing smut, so the jury is still out) anywaysss enjoy? reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated <3

masterlist

Caleb is a Grade A pretender. Especially when it comes to you.

The first time was in ninth grade, when he had to pretend that he didn’t have a crush on his adoptive sister’s best friend, as she teased him for his attentiveness towards her best friend as he handed you his umbrella and had to walk through the rain home.

The second time was two days after the first incident, when he had to pretend that he was fine as one of his classmates asked you out.

The third time was later that day when he had to pretend that he had no feelings whatsoever towards you when his sister teased him for being jealous of the classmate who asked you out.

Of course, with them being tight as thieves, she knew he was lying. The three of you grew up together, so of course she also knew that he had a huge crush on you. She knew she wouldn’t mind you dating him, all she wanted was for the two most important people in her life to be happy and if that’s with each other then so be it.

From then on, Caleb has definitely lost count of the times he had to pretend that you were nothing more than his friend or his sister’s best friend.

That ends today, though.

Ah yes, he should probably start with a little bit of a life update and context first.

It was yours and Caleb’s second year of college and you had just been cheated on by your moron of an ex a few months ago. Caleb had been there for you, as he always was. He comforted you, kept you company, even warded off unwanted advances from the other guys on campus.

The pretty, heartbroken art major. That was what people were saying about you, unbeknownst to you of course (because Caleb made sure of it!). Your douchebag of an ex had cheated on you with a professor and it even made headlines for a local newspaper, so of course it was like an open secret.  

It had been a few months, but you still weren’t ready to date, obvious by how you kept rejecting advances here and there (fret not, the creeps and the ones who couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer were all handled by Caleb!), or so Caleb thought. When he heard from his sister, who went to a different college, that you called her to tell her that you had a date with ’Devon’ from Art History, he knew he had to rush to your apartment.

The two of you lived in the same apartment building, but he lived on the floor above you. The two of you had each other’s keys so it was normal for the two of you to drop by unannounced at each other’s places.

“Y/N? You home?” Caleb called out as he closed and locked the door of your apartment behind him.

“In here!” You responded, your voice slightly muffled, coming from the direction of your bedroom.

Caleb walked past the entry way and the kitchen to get to your room. As he reached the open door of your room, he saw that you were wearing a bathrobe and that your hair and makeup was done. There were also several dresses laid out on your bed.

Oh, how it killed him to know that you had dolled yourself up so, so prettily for someone else.

“Perfect timing! I need your input.” You beamed.

“What for?” The pretender was back at it again.

“Which one looks better? This one?” You asked as you held out a yellow sundress in front of you before putting it on your bed and grabbing the other dress, “Or this one?” You asked again, this time holding a light blue midi dress.

“The blue one. Where are you off to?” Caleb tried his best to keep his tone to his usual light and cheery tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we have plans for tonight?” You said distractedly as you grabbed the yellow dress and turned to put it back on your closet. Caleb could only watch as you walked towards your bathroom with the blue dress in your hand.

“No… we don’t. But I was about to ask if you wanted to go to that new café that just opened a week ago. I knew you wanted to try their cheesecake.” He answered as he heard the shuffling sounds of you changing in your bathroom.

“Oh. I can’t… uh… I’m going on a date tonight.” You responded as you walked out of the bathroom, now wearing the light blue dress he had chosen. The sight of you looking so beautiful sent short circuited his brain and it was like no words could come out of him at the moment.

He blinked and tried to keep it together before saying, “Oh? Whom with?”

“This guy from my Art History class. His name’s Devon.”

“That… sounds nice.” No, no it doesn’t. He wanted to delete the guy from the face of the earth.

You gathered your phone and purse and walked towards the door as you said, “Yeah, I’m actually running late. He says that he’s picking me up at seven and its…” You put on a pair of heels before pausing to glance at your watch and pointed out, “Oh! Won’t you look at that. I’m already five minutes late. I gotta run. See you later, Caleb!”

No. No. No! There was no way he was going to let you go on that date. Especially when you’re dolled up that pretty! There was also no way that he’s letting you go to another jerk who didn’t know you as well as he did. He didn’t even know this ‘Devon’ guy, but Caleb was sure that the guy didn’t deserve you and won’t be able to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

You reached out your hand and opened the door to your apartment. The door, unfortunately, didn’t manage to open all the way for you to go through. Caleb rushed towards you and planted his palm on the door, slamming it back shut.

“Caleb.” You said, trying to stay calm and not flip out at the fact that Caleb was going to make you extra late, “What the heck are you doing?”

Caleb had your back flushed against his chest, “Caleb. Let me go.” You still had your hand around the handle of your apartment door.

He took your hand and spun you around, so you’d face him, before planting both his hands right on the door, caging you.

“What are you doing?” You asked once more, looking up at his much taller frame.

Caleb looked down, let out a dark chuckle before looking right back at you, “I can’t let you go.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re mine. I’ll be damned if I let you go on a date with another man. Not again.” He leaned down and moved his face closer to yours.

You gulped. You had never been this close to him, so of course there was an unfamiliar nervousness that crept down your spine, “Caleb, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been right here all along. When are you going to realize that?” He said darkly before slamming his lips onto yours.

-

taglist: @mayooness

[livinginshambles]

You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

______________________________

“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a  bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,”  he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

 Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld

@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks

@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

[sillyseraphie]

hi sweet seraphie! LOL im sending all my mutuals a request and im particularly excited about it!! i wanna know what its like to req 👰‍♂️

so something w phai maybe? reader had a ginormous crush on him b4 but lost feelings since he never reciprocated but hes realizing he loves them now and is trying to win them over again 🫦 cute, subtle ways!!!

kisses and hugs to u seraphie 🙇‍♀️

- cipher (sage in disguise)

“Love is never too late.”

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in which: you had a very huge crush on phainon before but long after knowing he never reciprocated your feelings, you lost feelings for him — only for him to develop feelings for you and the first thing that went inside his head was to win you over again.

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pairing/s: phainon x gn!artist!reader

cw: might be ooc as this is only the second time i write phainon and my third time writing an hsr fanfic! + loserboy phainon, bcs me thinks he's a loser when he's smitten! + unedited, there may be errors ahead!

au: college au

today's teas are: angst, hurt/comfy!

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HALO, LOVELY SAGIE!! (or cipher ;p) thank you for letting me be a part of "sending all my mutuals a request" event of yours! your idea is almost giving "she/he loved him, and he loved him/her too late" LMAO since i'm nice, i'm going to give this a happy ending!! but that doesn't mean my evil arc has ended >:)) might write mydei next based on the anime frieren(?) and on a song "multo" by cup of joe!

thanks for the sweet kissies and huggies! hyacine(disguised as seraphie) is sending u kisses as well!! enjoy reading my first longest fanfic in my life!!

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you glanced at phainon, who was laughing and teasing mydei to rile him up, as usual, then back at the page of your sketchpad that was once again filled with sketches of him.

you were never one to express everything through words as it always felt difficult for you. so instead, you poured all your feelings into sketching the man you adored.

almost all of the pages of your sketchpad were filled with doodles and sketches of phainon. some were sketches of him smiling, some were him sleeping on his desk (during class), some mini versions him, and even him as a puppy!

yet, even with all those masterpieces, nothing could compare to the real one.

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just as you were about to finish the outline, phainon leans over and takes a peek. "is that me?"

you almost jumped from your seat at his voice and you immediately turned your head to face him, only to freeze when you did and everything seemed to slow down until you snapped back to reality.

too close!

you thought to yourself as your heart gave a flutter at the proximity between your faces.

you wanted to push him away but you just sat there, not moving an inch.

"yes." thankfully, you knew how to control your expressions. otherwise, you would probably be a blushing mess right now.

phainon hummed in amusement. "you're quite talented at this, (name)! i didn't know i was one of your muses."

one of your muses? oh, how you wanted to say how wrong he was and tell him that he was your only muse but instead, you just kept quiet — as if the words were stuck in your throat — and averted your gaze to the sketch before you.

"thanks." you mumbled, shrinking into your seat, not used to receiving compliments.

phainon merely smiled, knowing and understanding that you were a person of few words who struggled to express yourself, and he accepted that.

so he reached for your head and gently ruffled your hair, making you huff under your breath and swat his hand away in response — only for him to laugh at you, oblivious to the way his touch sent a wave of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

(oh, have i ever mentioned how his laughter was always a music with the perfect melody to your ears? you could listen to it over and over again and you'd never grow tired or sick of it.)

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you plopped down to the mattress of your bed.

man, you were exhausted.

tilting your head to the side, you glanced at the plastic bag that had your newly bought sketchpad inside, which lay on the desk beside your bed.

you sighed.

this was your second time buying a new sketchpad, as the other two were already filled with sketches of him.

what am i going to do? you asked yourself. and before you knew it, your mind drifted to your feelings for him.

you never expected any of this to happen.

at first, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that would be gone in a flash for a few days — only for your feelings to last longer and bloom into something even deeper.

maybe it wouldn't hurt to confess, right?

...

yeah, maybe it wouldn't hurt.

you weren't the best at words, but you're willing to try, even if it means you'll have to face rejection— not that you weren't mentally prepared for it.

you spent the whole night thinking for the right words to confess,, some leaving you curled up in the sheets out of embarrassment.

curse the titan of romance, why must it end up this way?

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...

"sorry, (name). i couldn't return your feelings."

ah.

of course, he couldn't. you were just another friend in his eyes anyway.

you ignored the painful ache in your chest, pushing the feeling down with a laugh that sounded convincing enough for anyone to believe that it's fine.

"no need to apologize, phai. i completely understand, i wasn't even expecting you to reciprocate them anyway."

"thank you for listening to everything before saying anything else and for being honest. you may say that it's nothing to thank you for, but it means a lot to me. if you don't mind... could you at least accept these?"

you held the two sketchpads out to him, gesturing for him to take them from you and he did.

with a polite bow, you thanked him again and left.

all that mattered was that you finally confessed, and moving on would be a lot more easier for you now.

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phainon's a popular guy on the campus, a social butterfly with a charm that drew everyone in. he excelled in academics, dominated in sports, had good looks and a smile that could light any darkest room.

and you? you were just a normal, introverted student — known for your artistic achievements, but often overlooked in the crowd.

locking the door to your room, you slid yourself down to the floor with your back against the door.

you could finally move on without trouble.

you knew he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

you knew you had it coming and prepared yourself for it.

you had convinced yourself that you were okay with it. watching him laugh with friends, effortlessly connecting with everyone while you felt like a ghost in the background admiring him from afar. you told yourself that feelings like these were inevitable when you admired someone so vibrant and alive. and yet,

why did it hurt so much?

lost in thought, something warm and wet suddenly landed on your lap.

you blinked, confusion washing over you. you wiped at your eyes and noticed that your vision was blurry.

when was the last time you cried? the question echoed in your mind, heavy and unsettling. you couldn't remember. the emptiness you often felt had numbed you to every pain, dulling your emotions to the point where tears seemed like a distant memory.

as you fought to regain your composure, more droplets followed, cascading down your cheeks. each tear felt like a release, but also a reminder of the weight you carried.

you had grown so accustomed to the numbness that the sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed you, catching you off guard.

maybe letting go of your feelings for phainon wasn't as easy as you thought, but you knew for sure that you will be able to let go of them soon.

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phainon sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers tracing the outline of the sketches as his eyes fixated on the image made from pencil before him. each doodle was a glimpse into the world of someone who saw him differently, someone who captured his little moments.

he flipped through the pages, observing every expression— the way his smile lit up the page, the peacefulness of him sleeping during class, even the silly sketches of him as a puppy. it was as if each drawing held a story, and he felt his heart getting heavier on every page he flips.

as he continued flipping through the sketches, something tugged at his heartstrings. realization dawned on him that these weren't just sketches,

they were pieces of your feelings and thoughts.

he paused on the page where you had captured him laughing, the joy and lightness in that moment reflected back at him.

it was as if he could hear the laughter in his mind.

setting the sketchpad down, he lay down with his back against the soft mattress of his bed and placed an arm over his now closed eyelids before letting out a sigh.

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a month passed in a blur since you had confessed your feelings, life on the campus went smoothly as usual. well not for phainon at least.

phainon and you maintained your friendship, still sharing laughs, joining him for lunch and studying together as if nothing happened between the two of you. however, there was something different these days and phainon isn't stupid not to notice that.

while you still treated him the same, (with kindness, warmth, and respect) you rarely glanced his way like you used to anymore.

you laughed alongside him, but the spark that used to light up in your eyes when you look at him seemed dimmed.

he complimented you on your art and instead of the shy, grateful reaction he was used to, you kindly accepted it with a smile. (it felt more like a polite acknowledgement than the shy excitement he had grown accustomed to.) as if you were silently telling him that you no longer hold those feelings for him.

phainon couldn't shake the feeling that he lost something so precious. he often caught himself watching you and deciphering the subtle changes in your demeanor.

you had moved on, and while he was glad you did and you no longer have to suffer from your feelings for him that could never be returned, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

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he sat there at the cafeteria with mydei, glancing at the direction where you were sitting and laughing with your small circle of friends, seeming engrossed in a conversation.

why did it bother him so much? he has always been popular, admired by many, yet he felt a pang of something when he saw you laughing with others? (jealousy perhaps?)

in quiet moments, he found himself thinking about the sketches you had created. each drawing was a glimpse into a side of you he had never really recognized — your creativity, your perspective, and the way you deeply saw him in a different light.

(strangely enough,) it made his heart ache.

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phainon found himself staring at you again, his gaze glued to you as you sat with your friends. you were in the midst of a conversation, laughing at something that had been said, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

he watched as you tuck a strand behind your ear, a small smile forming on your lips. such a simple action, and yet it captivated him in a way he didn't expect.

he couldn't help but admire the way you moved, so unnatural and unguarded.

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phainon rested his chin on his palm as his gaze fixated on his seatmate.

he took noticed of you resting your head on your arms that was placed on top of your desk, your breathing soft and even as you drited off to sleep. the calm and peaceful sight of you brought a smile to his face, and something deep stirred within him.

"earth to phainon."

mydei's voice cut him off from his daze, and phainon froze in realization. "ah, sorry. i wasn't listening, what is it?"

mydei raised an eyebrow. "you seemed to be distracted these days, what's on your mind," he paused, his eyes landing at your sleeping figure.

"or rather, who is on your mind?" he finished in a playful manner.

shoot, he got caught!

phainon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, letting out a nervous laugh.

was it obvious or was he staring at you that long?

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phainon looked at the ceiling above him as he recalled the days that had passed. his mind flooded with memories, each memory of you now felt more clearer and meaningful.

sitting in the cafeteria, watching you laugh with your friends and feeling a pang of something he hadn't felt before. but he ignored it and instead listened to your laughter that seemed to melt his heart. it sounded perfect to his ears, bright and carefree.

the smallest and simplest things you do, like when you were sketching, lost in your world, the way your brows furrowed in concentration or how you'd occasionally tap the tip of the pencil against your lips made his heart race.

those little gestures, once overlooked, now held a beauty that captivated him entirely.

he remembered the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a simple action that sent fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

the moments you'd fall asleep during class breaks, as if you were blissfully unaware of the world around you.

is this how you felt back then? he asked himself.

each memory deepened his confusion and longing. he had always seen you as a friend, but now he felt something more these days— and it honestly thrilled, yet frightened him at the same time.

he wanted to be the reason behind your smiles, the one who encourages you in your passion for arts, and who stands by you through everything.

and yet, he couldn't shake the fear of losing you. you had already moved on from the feelings you once had for him, and phainon worried that his feelings for you might push you away.

but he knew he had to confront these feelings. if he wanted you to see him in the same light you once did, he would have to take the risk before it's too late.

the first thing that came to his mind was to win you over again, and he was determined to do it.

though, will it be worth the risk? only one way to find out.

─────────────────────────

sigh.

phainon exhaled and his groan soon followed, his face resting against the desk. he had been trying to win your heart again these past two months, but he always ended up failing with his sudden clumsiness, and the unexpected things happening.

impressing you with his drawing skills? failed. he knocked a bottle of water over (that had its lid opened) in an accident, spilling it all over your sketchbook. he tried cleaning it up with a paper towel, only for him to smear the sketches he had already made, turning his masterpiece into a messy blur. you tried assuring him that it was fine and it was an accident, and yet that didn't stop the sad expression that formed on his face, looking exactly like a kicked puppy and you had to hold yourself back from laughing.

(cute. you thought.)

impressing you with his skills in sports? failed. while he did manage to shoot the ball, he got distracted when he caught your gaze and before he knew it, a ball flew to his way at a rapid speed and hit him right on the head, almost knocking him out.

sending you a sweet message about how much he enjoys spending time with you? failed. he accidentally sent the message to the wrong person. and worst of all, the person he accidentally sent the sweet message to was one of the professors in the campus; anaxa.

he doubts he'll even forget that memory.

he tried to pick your things that had fallen to the ground, only for both of your foreheads to bump against each other really hard.

he also tried flirting, but you were so slow and oblivious, it backfired.

mnestia, could you please be nice for once?

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phainon always had a bright smile on his face, but there was a subtle change about him lately, and everyone on the campus could see the way his eyes would soften or light up with stars, the way the expression on his face would brighten with a grin, or even the way his imaginary tail would wag furiously whenever he sees you or when he's with you. (as if he was a dog with an owner that just got home from work.)

during class, phainon would steal glances on your way while the professor was busy discussing. only for anaxa to catch him daydreaming later, staring at you instead of paying attention and taking down notes. he eventually calls him after clearing his throat to catch his student's attention, "care to share your thoughts, phainon of aedes elysiae?" and the class erupts into laughter as phainon stumbles over his words, cheeks flushed and an embarrassed smile on his lips.

you also could tell that there was something more about the way he acts around you, but you kept denying it, convincing yourself that you're just imagining things or phainon was simply being... well, phainon.

yet despite your attempts to brush it off, you couldn't shake off the fluttering feeling in your chest from the way he looks at you like a lovesick puppy (you honestly find that cute), or when gives you those bright, charming smiles that always seemed to widen whenever you agree to tag along with him, or the way he still spots you in the crowds despite blending in perfectly, or—

titans.

you were falling for him again. but oddly enough, you didn't feel scared or hesitant about it, and it felt different this time, you didn't question everything like last time, you just accepted it without overthinking and complaining.

you didn't mind that he turned you down before, those moments had already felt like a blur now. and you found yourself clinging to the small hopes that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time.

─────────────────────────

phainon was unusually quiet today, but as two of your friends called out to him, his gaze landed on them first before you and the moment it did; heat crept up to his cheeks.

"how do they look, phainon?"

cipher and hyacine had just finished styling your hair (out of boredom) and now they asked him for his opinion, only for him to remain silent and leave their question unanswered.

"i told you, i look ridiculous in this. i prefer my usual hair style much more." a sigh left your lips, embarrassment washing over you as you brought a hand to the clip/pin/hair tie, trying to take it off. But cipher stopped you before you could.

"ah, ah, ah. he hasn't given us an answer yet."

phainon was too stunned to speak and he couldn't help himself from staring at you, not when you look so...

breathtaking, beautiful, stunning, lovely, majestic, adorable, charming, enchanting, divine, and effortlessly gorgeous.

i mean you've always been, but seeing you in a different hairstyle than usual was new to him, and he doubts words are even enough to describe how captivating you are.

with a hand covering half of his flushed face and his shy smile, his eyes averted elsewhere before finally giving them an answer.

"they look pretty." he muttered and he returned his gaze back to you (and only you), his voice barely above a whisper but it was enough for you and your friends to hear.

while the pair cheered, he didn't fail to notice how you seemed to freeze in your spot.

was he seeing things? he could've sworn he saw your cheeks blooming into a faint red colour before you turned your back to him.

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several months had passed since day one of phainon's clumsy attempts of winning you over, and now you stood there with him at the entrance of the amusement park, staring blankly at the screen,and holding back the frustration that washed over you as you read the message.

hyacine: sorry, (name)! we got so hungry, we had to go somewhere to eat. i'm pretty sure you'll be fine there as long as you're with phainon! o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

cipher: have fun

cipher: on your date! ;3

beside you was phainon, who was also staring at the screen of his phone.

mydei: we had been standing and waiting for so long, but since you were taking your precious time, i had lost my patience.

castorice: sorry, phainon. i couldn't stay in one place for too long. we're cheering for you though! good luck! :))

great.

they ditched us. you both thought at the same time.

a long silence followed, and phainon was the first to break it. "seems like it's just the two of us then. where do you want to head to first?"

while phainon was frustrated at the fact that the both of you just got ditched, a part of him was happy that he got to spend time with you alone— in an amusement park.

you looked around first before pointing at the rides. "the rides would be nice, i'd like to try them out." (you felt a bit childish, but you've been dying to ride the rollercoaster.)

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as you made your way through the bustling crowd, you suddenly felt a bit anxious. "hey, phainon?"

"yeah?"

"do you mind if i hold onto your arm?" you hesitantly asked him. "i don't really like crowds, and i'm afraid that i might get lost..."

phainon glanced at you, and then chuckled. "with your height, it might not be easy to spot you in all these people." he joked and you flashed him a glare. (you were offended. that joke was unfunny, sir.)

"but sure, i don't mind." he extended his arm for you before you linked yours with his (and suddenly, you're not that scared anymore).

whenever you feel overwhelmed by the crowd, your grip on him loosens. and each time that happens, phainon would gently pull you back closer to his side, ensuring your safety.

the both of you headed to the rides first, you started with the simple ones before the thrilling rides. excitement bubbled in your chest as you climb aboard the rollercoaster. the ride was thrilling and it made you scream in delight whenever it plummeted down.

once the ride came to stop, you stepped off of the ride. but when you stepped foot on the ground, your knees buckled. just as you were about to stumble, phainon caught you just in time, his arms wrapping around you securely, "woah, careful there!" he said, and both of you burst into fits of laughter.

after regaining your balance, you and phainon headed over to the food stalls to eat, before wandering over to the game stalls. (you could've sworn you saw two familiar figures with blonde and lavender hair, but before you could even look at their direction, a prize caught your attention.) you tried your luck at winning the prize while phainon cheered you on, and his encouragement was boosting your confidence.

when you finally knocked down the cans and won a stuffed animal, you beamed up at him with the plush in your arms, and he flashed you a proud grin.

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the sun had begun to set and both of you had decided to go home. (your parents told you to come home before night time.)

the excitement of the day was still buzzling in the air, and the smiles on your faces were still there. phainon had decided to take you home and everything was silent, but it wasn't the awkward silence you shared earlier— it was rather comfortable and warm.

as you've both finally reached outside your home, you weren't sure how to voice out the feelings that had been blooming inside you, but it seemed phainon had something to say as well.

before you could bid him goodbye and call it a day, your eyes widened when you saw the solemn look on his face as he muttered something under his breath and avoided your gaze.

"did i love you too late?"

it was almost inaudible, but you managed to hear the words that (accidentally) slipped past his lips.

you could tell that he was being sincere.

"what?" you said in disbelief, causing a wave of panic to wash over phainon. but before he could say a word, you beat him into it.

"and here i thought I was only imagining things." you stifled a laugh and you were now facing him entirely. "please, look at me." he did as what you have told him.

and there it is, the look in your eyes, the one he had been longing to see.

"you're never too late, phai. I might have moved on and lost feelings for a while, but somehow, my heart found its way back to you again. it's odd, but i'm not complaining. with all the things that's been happening between us, i couldn't help myself from clinging onto the hopes that maybe things would be different this time. so..."

"phainon, if you truly love me... can you promise me to hold and take good care of my fragile heart this time?"

phainon stood frozen, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in surprise. it was rare to see you express your feelings so openly, and the weight of your words hung in the air between you. He felt a sudden rush of joy, disbelief, and a slight vulnerability, all mixed together.

as your words sunk in, a bright smile replaced the solemn expression he had on his face. his eyes lit up, sparkling with warmth. you almost found yourself laughing at the sight of his imaginary fluffy dog ears perking up with excitement and his imaginary tail wagging furiously behind him.

after a moment, he finally answered, his voice steady and sincere. "i promise to and i will hold, cherish, and protect your fragile heart with everything i have."

he swore to the whole universe, that he won't let you down. and this time, he will show you how much you mean to him.

there is never too early, nor too late for you to love someone. it isn't something to rush on, as there will always be a right time for love to bloom like a beautiful flower.

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silly taggies! @sqgeism , @strawbairicake, @unabashedlyfamousprince

note/s: my tumblr was lagging when i pasted everything from my notes LMAOOO, + let me know if there's an error or you could share your opinion! (I would honestly love that, so feel free to drop your opinions, chat!) + did you all know that I based this on the things that had happened to me and my past crush? (Not entirely, it's mostly on the amusement park part and the reader's crying part LMAO)

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 3/3)

Third and final part of my angsty Steddie “Bullshit” story where Steve changes himself to try to keep Eddie’s love. I swear the happy ending is finally here everyone! Please put the pitchforks and torches away!

I hope it lives up to expectations and thank you everyone for showing such a keen interest in my story. This final part is LONG and dialogue heavy but hey, at least you finally get the fluff.

Part 1 || Part 2

-

It had been two weeks.

Which, sure, wasn’t the longest they’d gone without seeing each other before due to their lives being hectic, but it had been the longest they’d gone without even so much as a quick goodnight phone call since they finally got together. Steve’s hand had hovered over the phone every night, wanting to call Eddie and apologize and promise to do better, but he was too much of a coward.

Because, you see, as long as they weren’t talking, Steve could still pretend that they were together. He knew though that the moment his resolve crumbled and he called Eddie, or Eddie finally had enough and called him, that it would be over. Eddie would officially break up with him and this time Steve didn’t know how he was going to pick up the pieces.

He loved too much, too quickly, too earnestly. But it was never enough. It was always just bullshit and he didn’t know how to stop it from being bullshit. The first time he hadn’t taken Nancy’s own needs into account, had been too caught up in his own trauma to realize that she needed more than just to pretend that nothing had happened and move on from what couldn’t be changed.

Neither had been in the wrong, of course, both dealing with trauma and guilt in their own way, but in the end they had simply been too incompatible. He hadn’t been what she needed and she hadn’t been what he needed. They couldn’t change that, not even back when that spark between them still burned in an ember. But who they were simply couldn’t change to be what the other needed, or deserved.

So then he tried to change, for Eddie. Once Eddie and he got together, it was obvious they were too different. Their friends had commented on it enough, and then when Steve changed to be worthy of Eddie, they commented on that too. But Steve was fine with changing. He loved Eddie enough to become what would make Eddie happy. He’d do anything to make Eddie happy.

Except he failed. He failed and now he had gone two weeks without speaking to his boyfriend who probably hated him now.

Their friends wouldn’t tell him anything either, not that he really wanted them to know of his failure. Only Robin knew because she had been the first person he had called when Eddie had ran away from him when it became obvious Steve wasn’t good enough.

Robin, who had threatened to make Eddie’s balls into earrings, had muttered about how she’d always known he was trouble, but Steve also remembered how happy Robin had been when she discovered she wasn’t alone. She and Eddie had gotten on like a house on fire, bickering like they’d been siblings all along, and it had been so nice to have both his soulmates so close to him and each other.

He couldn’t let Robin hate Eddie because of Steve’s own failings. So he talked to her, told her it was fine, told her not to hate Eddie just because Steve couldn’t be what he wanted, though that only seemed to make Robin worse.

Until a few days ago.

She had suddenly returned with a smile on her face, and though she seemed impatient at times, she had at least stopped threatening bodily harm towards Eddie. She stopped bringing Eddie up entirely, actually, though she looked like she wanted to say something more than once.

Normally, Steve would have pried it out of her. It would have been easy too. A flash of wide eyes, downturned lips, tilted head, a soft whine to her name, and she’d be spilling state secrets to him…though he already knew all the state secrets that she knew. But she couldn’t hide from her soulmate. Ever since that first bathroom confessional, they were never very good at keeping secrets from each other.

Steve was too tired for that now. He just wanted Eddie. But Eddie didn’t want him.

Because he was bullshit.

Steve was curled on his couch, Dio blasting from the music system, the fancy new CD player rotating the shiny disc over and over again on repeat. Eddie had said he preferred vinyls, so Steve tried to only listen to vinyls when he was around, but Steve enjoyed the way he could set the new CD technology on repeat without having to get up. It let him wallow for longer.

Robin had been by earlier, though she seemed jumpier than normal, constantly looking at her watch. She’d finally jumped out of Steve’s bed they were lounging in and said she had to go about an hour ago, stuttering excuses and refusing to meet his eyes.

He wondered if Robin was beginning to realize he was bullshit too.

He couldn’t blame her. They didn’t really have much in common either. It was only trauma bonding that tied them together, or at least that’s what she had called it a few nights after everything to do with Starcourt, when she’d biked all the way to Loch Nora and pounded on the door until a bewildered Steve had answered.

She’d thrown her arms around Steve then, and he’d realized she’d been crying, and she kept whispering over and over “you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe” as though she needed to reassure herself. Steve had at first thought she was talking about herself, but then he realized she was talking about him.

That particular realization had been electrifying. No one had ever really checked up on him before. But apparently Robin had been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of what the Russians had done to Steve, plagued by the what-if’s of Steve not making it out of the underground bunker. It was the first night they slept in the same bed together, but it wasn’t the last.

She’d told him that they were trauma bonded, them and the rest of the group, that no matter how different they were, they would always have each other’s back. That was also the first night she’d called him her soulmate though, making certain he knew she meant it Platonic with a capital ‘P’ and nothing else. Steve realized that it didn’t make it any less important.

But maybe that had been a lie too.

Maybe Robin was beginning to realize that they were too different. That Steve would never be good enough for anyone. Not good enough for his family, not good enough for Dustin, not good enough for Nancy, not good enough for Eddie, and not good enough for Robin. Always wanting, always worthless. Always bullshit.

It was during this spiral that a very polite, though loud, knocking came from the front door. He supposed they had to be loud to be heard over the sounds of Dio, which he had cranked up to try to drown out the thoughts in his head.

Steve rubbed at his eyes, which felt crusty from dried tears, sitting up from where he had collapsed after showing Robin out the door. He’d think that it was Robin returning for something she forgot, a regular occurrence, but she rarely knocked anymore. She typically just let herself in with the spare key he’d given her. He’d given one to Eddie too.

Pushing thoughts of his maybe-still-his-boyfriend away as he hit pause on the music, Steve shuffled towards the front door. He gave a brief tug of his Iron Maiden shirt, which was actually one of Eddie’s, to attempt to make his rumpled appearance look a little more presentable, and then he was swinging the door open to reveal…

Eddie???

Except…it wasn’t an Eddie he recognized. No, this Eddie was wearing an orchid pink polo and light khakis, and…were those Oxford shoes he was wearing?? With a matching belt??? His hair was smoothed fully back and clasped into a professional looking bun and not a single ring adorned his fingers, made obvious by the way Eddie held up a bouquet of roses. Even the ever present pick necklace from absent from Eddie’s neck.

Steve gaped.

“Hello, Steve,” Eddie said, even his voice seemed softer, less wild, and his smile was the sort Steve had seen his father’s business associates give to each other when a good deal had gone through. Happy, pleased, but restrained. Nothing like the manic grins he was used to from Eddie.

“E-Eddie?” he croaked out, absolutely in disbelief. Behind Eddie, Steve could see a station wagon parked where Eddie’s van should be. “What’s going on?”

Eddie held the flowers out towards Steve, who automatically took them. He couldn’t help but give a bemused smile even as he brought them up to smell. Eddie took a deep breath, indicating the foyer with a small motion of his hand.

“Sorry, but may we talk inside?”

This strangely polite version of Eddie was making Steve feel weirdly uncomfortable, so used to the exuberance that normally surrounded the other man. He took a step back, however, because it was Eddie. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest at seeing Eddie again, even if he looked different.

Steve closed the door behind Eddie after the other man stepped forward, though not before wiping his shoes off on the doormat, which Steve could not recall Eddie ever doing before. He felt like he had somehow fallen into an alternate dimension, and not of the Upside Down variety. Maybe that would have been better; he knew how to handle that kind.

“Um…let me put these in water?” Steve said, though it sounded more like a question, at a loss for what was happening right now.

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you mind if I put on the game?”

Sweetheart.

Steve felt a hopeful flutter in his chest and gut at the use of an endearment. Sure, Eddie was no stranger to using such terms in retaliation to bullies or anyone else he disliked, but that was not the tone Eddie used just now. No, he used the tone he always used with Steve, making Steve hopeful towards the idea that he hadn’t actually ruined everything yet.

He was so caught up with that fact that it took him a moment to process the second part of what Eddie said. “Uh…yeah, sure?” he answered with a question again, brows furrowing, as he wondered if he had somehow forgotten that he was supposed to host Eddie’s campaign night that night.

He hurried quickly to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, suddenly worried about how his home looked. He hadn’t been expecting to host Dungeons and Dragons, didn’t have the snacking station set up or anything. Did he have enough beverages? Who all was coming tonight? He felt his hosting anxiety start climbing at these questions, as well as the worry that this was a test.

If he failed tonight, would Eddie finally be done with him?

Steve was just settling the vase full of roses on the counter when he heard…was that…?

“Oh come on, Coach! Take him out!” Eddie’s voice filtered through to him as Steve slowly made his way towards the living room. “That asshole is making Gochnaur look like a capable shortstop!”

Was Eddie…watching baseball?

Did Eddie know about John Gochnaur?

What was happening right now?

Steve stood in the doorway leading into the living room, watching with a completely gobsmacked expression as, yes, Eddie was currently watching baseball and giving correct commentary. Steve hadn’t even known Eddie knew what a shortstop did.

Eddie glanced over at Steve and his annoyed expression smoothed into one of happiness. He pat the couch next to him invitingly and Steve could do nothing but walk forward and take his place at Eddie’s side. His furrowed brows shot up into his hairline when Eddie pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he started rattling off statistics of the players on screen like he did monsters during his DnD campaigns as he indicated the probability of home runs and errors.

“What the hell is going on right now?” he mumbled mostly to himself. This was…this was weird. He wasn’t sure he liked this. No, he knew he didn’t like this. Whatever this was, it felt wrong. He turned his head to frown at Eddie who still looked caught up in the game. In sports.

“Eddie, what…” Steve shook his head slightly, wetting his lips. “Why are you watching baseball? Why are you wearing those clothes? You just left the other days and now you look like a completely different person. What is going on?”

Eddie glanced over at Steve, his own brows high into his bangs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve. I’m wearing perfectly normal clothing. And sure, it’s only baseball, but it’s not like it’s basketball season yet.”

Eddie paused then, his expression settling into a neutral look for only a moment before slowly morphing to one of pained regret. He sight and hung his head for a moment before grabbing the remote and muting the screen. He then released Steve just enough to turn slightly on the couch to better face him.

“I’m sorry for leaving though, baby. There’s no excuse for just running out on you like that. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…I had a lot on my mind and I needed to figure some things out. But don’t worry, Stevie. I have it all figured out now and now I can be an even better boyfriend to you,” he finished with a wide grin that looked nothing like his typical crazed charming smile. It looked more like the grins he used to make before he felt comfortable around Steve and the others.

Charming, yes, but not right. Not Eddie.

But Eddie was leaning forwards, brushing one of the limp pieces of his hair that he hadn’t even bothered to style these past two weeks—hell, had barely had the energy to even wash—back behind his ear. He then pressed forward to lightly kiss the tip of Steve’s nose with a smile, and Steve could only smile back. Eddie was here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

Except…

Except.

Eddie’s pink polo was still in his line of vision. It was Eddie, but it wasn’t Eddie at the same time. He looked nothing like the metalhead he loved. Not that there was anything wrong with what he wore now, of course, and honestly seeing Eddie in a polo was kind of hot, but…it wasn’t him.

Steve pulled back, his smile turning back into a small frown. His eyes tracked over Eddie’s outfit. Sure, Eddie looked nice in it, but it was incredibly wrong. The khakis even looked pressed. “But seriously, Eddie, what the hell are you wearing?”

Eddie looked down at his own clothing with a look of not understanding before looking back up at Steve. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’m wearing clothing. A shirt and pants I’ve even got underwear on underneath. Though I can wear a lot less of it if you prefer, baby,” he added in that sultry voice that never failed to get Steve going. He’d once accidentally slipped into it while DMing when he narrated a succubus type NPC and Steve had popped a boner right then and there at the table.

And Steve’s dick made a valiant effort to respond now actually, but everything was wrong and Steve didn’t like that. He continued frowning at Eddie.

“Why are you wearing a polo?” he asked more directly, because he knew from experience with Dustin and Robin and even Eddie himself that sometimes you just have to ask directly if you wanted a proper answer. And seriously. A polo?? “Where are your regular clothes. And why are you watching baseball?”

“I like baseball,” Eddie replied easily with a shrug. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I like that the players can have their little music intro. And I wear polos now, they’re surprisingly comfortable.” He gave Steve a gentle smile. “If you don’t want to watch baseball, we can do something else. You wanna put on some music? Have you heard Debbie Gibson’s new song? Truly heartbreaking. I bet it’s on the radio right now.”

Steve just gaped. It was like Eddie was speaking an alien language even though he knew that all that was English and he understood each word separately. All together though, coming from Eddie’s mouth? Yeah, nothing made sense.

“Eddie,” he breathed, slowly reaching out for Eddie’s left hand and feeling another swoop of wrongness at the lack of rings there. “When you said you wanted to put on the game, I thought you meant a campaign. And Debbie Gibson? Babe, you’re in a metal band. Debbie Gibson isn’t cool.”

“Hey! You treat Deb with respect. Girl’s got an excellent voice,” Eddie said with indignation. Steve could only roll his eyes because yeah, he knew that, but Eddie saying something like that? Unreal. It was Eddie’s next words that made him freeze solid, however.

“Besides, I quit the band. Dungeons and Dragons too. Figured I’m too old for that nerd shit. I’m thinking about getting a real job now anyways, so I don’t have time for all that anymore. Actually, do you want to go through the classifieds together with me later? Gareth said he’d try to get me an in with his dad’s company, but it’s better to be prepared.”

Eddie quit the band? Quit Dungeons and Dragons? Was talking about a corporate job? What. The. Fuck.

Steve scrambled up from the couch, his fingers moving up to squeeze the bridge of his nose before both hands settled on his hips as he stared at Eddie in disbelief. “You love Corroded Coffin. And Dungeons and Dragons! Why the hell would you stop doing something you love?”

Something flashed across Eddie’s expression then, something pleased like Steve had said exactly what Eddie had hoped he would, but it was gone the very next instant leaving Eddie simply staring up Steve with wide and imploring eyes.

“But Steve,” he said, and his tone was too earnest that it made Steve pause. “I love you more, and you don’t like those things. So I’ll change, for you.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water thrown back in his face. He couldn’t move, couldn’t react. Couldn’t resist when Eddie reached out and grasped his hand to pull him back to the couch he’d just vacated, pulling him against his side once more.

“You changed for me, so now I’ll change for you,” Eddie said like the solution was obvious. Steve mutely shook his head, but Eddie’s smile was toothy and sharp and so much like the smile he was used to that he couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since Eddie wasn’t done. “You changed who you were because you loved me so much and didn’t want to lose me. Is it so preposterous to imagine that I love you so much that I’m willing to do the same?”

Yes! Steve wanted to exclaim, wanted to shout and shake Eddie, because of course Eddie didn’t love Steve the same way that Steve loved Eddie; no one ever did.

Well, except maybe Robin. They were Platonic soulmates after all. He knew that he had started doubting her earlier, which made him a little nauseous to do actually, but she had been the only one so far who had never abandoned him. Who seemingly cared for him the same way he cared for her.

But to think he could possibly be blessed with someone who loved him, romantically, that same way? To think that he might be lucky enough to have that sort of fabled love twice? Impossible! Because…because he knew. He knew he wasn’t good enough. He wouldn’t ever be good enough. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t—

“Do you know why I love you, Stevie?” Eddie murmured, cutting off Steve’s thoughts and causing him to stiffen beside him. It wasn’t like he was unused to these declarations; Eddie never really shied away from telling Steve he loved him, though Steve had to fight back the inane temptation to make a bitchy little joke about it like he’d had before, teasingly crediting his ass or how pretty he looked on his knees. Eddie had given them as reasons enough for his love when they’d joked around before, just as Steven had teasingly cited his love as being because of how skilled Eddie’s fingers were, or the talent of his mouth.

He could sense, however, that trying to trivialize the moment would not go well this time. No, Eddie was looking at him earnestly once more, was reaching out again for Steve’s hand to hold and clutch between both of his against his chest. He thankfully did not seem like he was expecting an answer from Steve.

“It’s because you thought about my safety first, back then, at Skull Rock, even after I’d shoved a broken bottle at your neck. Even though we ran in two totally different circles, you immediately put me as a priority. It’s because you didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, not in belittlement of Wheeler and Buckley for being girls, or me for being…well, me…but simply because you were aware of your own qualifications and knew you were best for the job.

“It’s because, at the first real opportunity of being relatively alone with me, you immediately thanked me for coming to help you after you’d been pulled under, like there had been any other option. As if it wasn’t a given that you deserved to be made a priority too.”

Eddie paused then, thickly swallowed as his eyes closed momentarily. “Though you totally saved your own ass there, tearing that bitch apart with your bare hands. You’re a total badass, sweetheart,” he rumbled, the heat of hungry appreciation in his voice. “Wrapped up in soft yellow sweaters and ridiculously styled hair.”

Opening his eyes to look at Steve again, Steve could see some of that (still surprising) hunger lingering. Because yeah, he knew now that Eddie had near creamed his pants when he’d pulled an Ozzy with the demobat, and even though he questioned his boyfriend’s tastes at time, he was also always so gleeful to know that Eddie thought him sexy as hell.

But it was more than just that, and Steve felt his heart hammering away beneath his ribcage as Eddie kept going on, singing his praises as if Steve was truly something to be admired.

“It’s because,” Eddie continued saying, bringing Steve’s hand up to lightly nuzzle against his knuckles, “you always put everyone else first, even if you hide it behind your bitchy little snide words. Because you care about everyone else and would throw yourself directly into the path of danger to protect them. Protect us. And more than that, you take care of everyone around you, whether they show their gratitude or not. Dustin wasn’t wrong when he talked about how great you are.

“It’s because…” Eddie drew in another shuddering breath, his eyes wide and deep with emotion. “It’s because, when you look at me, you see me, not just another trailer trash failure who couldn’t even properly graduate high school. You see someone worth loving.”

“Eddie,” Steve broke in then with a cracked voice, his guilt unable to keep him quiet. “You were right about me, though. I was a douchebag. Even about you I was an asshole until everything went down. I called you a freak, and I didn’t try hard enough to stop Tommy from attacking you or the others, and I only cared about myself back then. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. “I won’t deny past dickishness, but I’m not so innocent either,” he pointed out. “I held my own prejudices, my own selfishness. I ostracized Lucas for daring to like sports, I nearly abandoned my bandmates the first time I thought I could make it solo, and I continually ran away when things got tough or hard, try as hard as I did to pretend otherwise.”

Eddie released Steve’s hand from one of his own so that he could snake it behind Steve’s neck to pull him in for a gentle kiss. Steve melted into it, terrified Eddie would eventually leave him still, while also taking great comfort in the kiss. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, that much he was certain.

“You love with your whole heart, Stevie,” Eddie whispered when he finally pulled away. “I will never be able to apologize enough for taking advantage of that, for not realizing what was going on.” He dropped his gaze to the Iron Maiden shirt Steve was wearing, sliding his hand from Steve’s neck to his chest. “The fact that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough exactly as you are will always haunt me.”

Steve didn’t want Eddie sad. He didn’t want Eddie to blame himself for Steve not being enough. He couldn’t get the words out though, not when Eddie looked so utterly heartbroken.

“I’m so sorry, baby. And I’m so sorry for leaving. I just…I realized what I did to you and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

Steve was horrified by the tears that began flooding Eddie’s eyes, causing him to reach out with his own freed hand pull Eddie in by his polo for another kiss. He didn’t understand what was going on, but…but…

Was Eddie truly not upset with him?

“Christ, baby,” Eddie murmured against his lips. “I love you in your polos. I love you listening to your own music in the car, the way your hair flops about as you jam out to Queen and Wham! and even Cydni fucking Lauper. I love how passionate you get about sports, the way you fuss over Henderson and the others, the way you call out other people’s shit. I love all of you, not in spite of you.”

Eddie pulled back to look properly at Steve, and this time it was Steve with tears brimming in his eyes. Everything Eddie said was like a revelation because the tone of Eddie’s voice, the look in Eddie’s eyes…he meant them.

“But…we’re so different,” he protested, because how was he supposed to accept that when they were nothing alike? Certainly Eddie had to have some regrets, or wish for some changes.

“Steve,” Eddie said on a near whine. “Of course we’re different. We’re different people.” He shook his head suddenly, taking a deep breath. He then reached out and caught Steve’s chin to force him to look at him, catching his eyes with his own. “Do you love me any less for being different than you?”

“No!” Steve yelled aghast. How could Eddie ever think that?

“Then why do you think I would ever love you less for the same?”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest again, except…except he didn’t really have an answer to that. Not beyond the fact that he would always be less than. Less than Eddie, less than the kids, less than everyone else he ever cared about.

Except…

Except.

The way Eddie was staring at him now, the way Eddie’s own pain reflected in his dark brown eyes, didn’t make Steve feel like he was lesser. Eddie had never made him feel lesser, actually. Eddie had instead made him feel like…like he mattered. Like he was something worth cherishing. Like…like he was loved.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve admitted, voice cracking, and the tears he’d been keeping at bay slowly spilled over and slid down his cheeks.

Eddie cupped his jaw with both hands then, and though his tears didn’t fall, he sniffled in a way that revealed that it was a very near thing. “I love you so much, baby. I was so ecstatic that you loved me too, that you seemed to be willing to take interest in the things I loved, that I didn’t realize I never did the same. I thought you were trying to figure out who you were, I never noticed that you stopped being you.

“I don’t want you to be just another metalhead who likes everything I like. I want you to be your own person, to like the things you like even if I don’t like them. I want to meet you in the middle of who we are, not a compromise, but as a sign of our love. I’ll take you to metal concerts and you can take me to sports games, even the ones with laundry baskets,” he gently teased. “Any of them, I don’t care. As long as I’m with you doing things you love, I’ll be happy. Because you make me happy, sweetheart.”

Steve’s eyes darted away, eyes catching on the screen where one of the players just stole a base and made themselves that much closer to winning the game, before looking back at Eddie. He didn’t see anything false in his expression, only genuine, hopeful sincerity. Like he truly meant his words.

“I’m fine doing whatever you want,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to sacrifice anything.”

“Baby,” Eddie implored. “It’s not a sacrifice to be with you. You’re so perfect for me, just like you are. Like you truly are. I fell in love with you not because of what you can give me, but because of who you are. I never thought you were actually trying to change to be who you thought I wanted you to be. Because I just want you, baby. If you still want me.”

“Of course I want you,” Steve murmured immediately, his hands moving to claps at Eddie’s forearms. “I’ll always want you.”

Eddie grinned at him, though it was still emotional. He at least managed to keep his tears at bay, blinking rapidly until there wasn’t fear of them falling anymore. He leaned in then to press a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, his thumbs lightly stroking over Steve’s cheeks. “And I’ll always want you. Hell, baby, I’d marry you right now if it were legal.”

That got Steve’s attention.

He pulled back again, pulling Eddie’s hands from his face to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Again there was only sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, and patience, as he let Steve process and work through his words. To understand just how much Eddie meant it.

Eddie loved him. He knew this of course, but…hell, they hadn’t been dating all that long, all things considered, and he’d once heard Eddie denounce marriage as just another conformist expectation used to take your individuality away, but here was Eddie saying he would marry him if given the chance. He knew Eddie wouldn’t say something like that unless he truly meant it too. Eddie loved him.

“But…we’re so different, Eddie,” he repeated in barely more than a whisper. “A-and I don’t want you to quit your band or Dungeons and Dragons or anything like that for me. I don’t want you conforming for me.”

Eddie just grinned again, his expression so full of love for Steve that it made Steve almost physically ache. “And I don’t want you changing for me,” he simply said, and…and maybe Steve was starting to get that, but…

“But you were so happy when I started listening to metal, and not all of it is bad,” Steve admitted. “I actually liked some of it. More than I thought I would.”

“I was happy,” Eddie admitted right back, letting out a soft sigh. “I was happy to share something with you, happy to help you develop your interest since I thought it was something you wanted. I didn’t mean to push it on you. I was just…I thought that if we had a shared interest like that, you wouldn’t decide I was too much. When you started dressing like this…”

Eddie moved to lightly tug at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “I had been so terrified that you would realize you could do better than someone like me,” he whispered. “Having you not be put off by the way I dressed, by the music I liked, by anything I liked made me happy because it calmed my fears that I’d scare you off or something, that you’d move on to greener and better pastures.”

And that was just not right. Better than Eddie? Someone like that simply didn’t exist. And all because Eddie liked a certain kind of music, or dressed a certain way? Absolutely not.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, and this time it was him reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek to make him look at him properly again. “You’re so amazing, Eddie. How in the world could someone better than you exist? You’re a fucking hero, man. And don’t say you’re not,” he said firmly when Eddie opened his mouth to say just that, like he always did when it got brought up. “You are. You’re brave and selfless and literally out your life in the line to protect others. You’re badass, baby. Just like me,” he grinned in tease.

Eddie softly snorted, placing his hand over Steve’s on his cheek so he could hold it as he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm. “You are a badass,” Eddie agreed. “And you’re sweet too, even though you deny that too. I love you so much, and I should have paid more attention to why you were suddenly into all the same things I was instead of just being happy to share them with you.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, placing another soft kiss to his palm before trailing his lips into gentle kisses against his fingertips. “And I should have done more to meet you halfway. I should have been doing this from the start,” he admitted, indicating the muted TV. “You were always willing to join my hobbies but I never even offered to join yours. I’m truly very sorry, baby.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Steve complained. “I forgive you, okay? It’s just…you’re…” Steve swallowed, making himself actually stop and consider Eddie’s words, their meaning, their truth. “I’d love you even if you always hated sports,” he said softly, a small light of understanding settling over him. Because if he could love Eddie without needing Eddie to like everything he liked…

“Then can’t I love you even if you hate the things I like?” Eddie murmured, as if finishing his thought for him. “I don’t need you to be a carbon copy of my interests, baby. I love you for you, Steve. I’ve missed your polos and your preppy look,” he grinned. “It’s hot.”

Steve flushed slightly at that, Eddie’s eyes telling him again just how truthful those words were. He hadn’t ever once considered that Eddie actually liked that part of him, not when Eddie always wore dark clothing and looked the way he did. They were so different…

His eyes moved once more over Eddie, taking in that ridiculously pink polo and khaki pants, so unlike the things Eddie would wear but so similar to something Steve would. And…yeah, okay, that was hot, but he didn’t want Eddie to wear it all the time because it just wasn’t him. If Eddie wanted to then of course he’d never say anything about it, but he would miss the way his metalhead usually looked. Like…the way Steve looked now, while Eddie…Eddie looked like how he would have normally dressed.

Because Eddie said he would change for Steve, would give up the things he loved, just to keep Steve happy. But Steve didn’t need that to be happy. He was happy just to have Eddie, exactly the way he was, without Eddie pretending to be something he wasn’t. He didn’t want Eddie to change for him, even though…yeah he would like to be able to share his own interests with Eddie sometimes. And maybe…

Maybe, if Eddie had started dressing like that gradually, started expressing interest in Steve’s hobbies slowly, he wouldn’t notice how much Eddie had been changing to try to fit in with him. Maybe he would have just assumed Eddie was genuinely branching out his own interests because he felt safe enough to do so without being ridiculed, like…like Steve had slowly done.

But Eddie had appeared so drastically changed that Steve couldn’t help but rebel against it, couldn’t help but clock it as wrong, could only see it for what it was:

Bullshit.

Steve grinned suddenly at that revelation. A bright happiness began filling him until he felt like he was full of fizzy soda and Pop Rocks. He realized that it was bullshit, but he wasn’t. What was bullshit wasn’t his love, or his inability to be exactly like Eddie, but the fact that he tried to be someone he wasn’t. Him trying to change who he was was bullshit. Because Eddie?

Eddie loved him anyways. Eddie loved him even if he was an ex-jock prep who cared about his appearance maybe a little too much, who cared about keeping his home and car clean, who listened to popular catchy music on the radio simply because it was fun. Eddie had fallen in love with Steve because of who he was, not who he could change himself into becoming.

Eddie loved him. And love like that could never be bullshit.

When Steve finally looked Eddie in the eyes again, truly looked and saw and heard everything Eddie had been trying to tell him, he felt tears escape down his cheeks again but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because he got it now. He understood. Eddie hadn’t wanted him to change, he had just been supporting Steve in what he thought Steve wanted.

“I’m such an idiot,” Steve wetly laughed, throwing his arms around Eddie to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

“Hey now, don’t insult my husband like that,” Eddie admonished, but his words sounded wet too as his own arms moved to wrap around Steve’s back and hold him close.

“We’re not married yet, asshole. You didn’t even ask me,” he pointed out with a giddy roll of his eyes.

“Right, right, silly me,” Eddie said, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice. “Guess I better go buy a ring first. And ask Buckley for her blessing.” Eddie drew in a shaky breath before huffing it out in a laugh. “Maybe she’ll let me keep my balls now.”

Steve pulled back with a confused furrow to his brows. He hadn’t told Eddie that his balls were in any danger.

When Eddie caught his expression, Eddie rolled his eyes next. “After I left, I spent probably a week trying to process everything, trying to figure out where I went wrong and horrified with myself for unknowingly encouraging you into changing for me, going over every little thing I fucked up. Then Buckley showed up and read me the fucking riot act.” He shuddered. “She’s terrifying.”

“I told her not to do that,” Steve frowned, though his lips twitched at his boyfriend’s dramatics. Christ, he loved him so much. And Eddie, somehow, apparently loved him just as much.

“Well I’m glad she did,” Eddie said with a small chuckle and shake of his head. “We came up with all this together,” he added with an indication of his clothing and the TV. “She heard my side of things and realized that if there’s an idiot in our relationship, it’s me. And then we came up with this plan to show you why I’d never want you to be someone you weren’t. Figured if I showed up completely changed too, you’d realize why it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Anxiety hit Steve suddenly and he stared at Eddie with wide eyes. “Wait, you didn’t actually quit the band, did you? Eddie!”

“No, no, not really.” Eddie paused. “Mostly.” He gave a little wincing smile at Steve’s fierce glare. “I told them what I was going to do, as well as saying that I may end up actually quitting if that’s what you needed of me. Because I meant it, Stevie,” he added with his own fierceness. “I love you more than I love being in the band or anything else. You’re it for me, hot stuff.”

“You are an idiot,” Steve groaned, and he didn’t know if he should be upset with Eddie, relieved, or insanely happy. He somehow felt all three at once, giving Eddie’s arm a small slap. “But I am absolutely determined to have a hot and talented famous rockstar boyfriend, Munson, so you better not quit. Or I’m dumping your ass for Jeff,” he said with a wicked little grin.

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasped, his hand moving to clutch at his shirt over his heart, falling back against the couch cushions dramatically.

Steve merely rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t keep the deliriously happy smile off his face because this was his boyfriend. This dramatic, goofy, absolute loser of a man. He was so fucking lucky.

“And that station wagon out front?” he asked, eyebrow arching.

“Borrowed,” Eddie grinned, propping himself up with an elbow to look at Steve. “Jeff’s mom’s. Really had to make it authentic, ya know?”

“And the baseball knowledge?”

Eddie laughed at that. “Wayne gave me some pointers. I think he was ecstatic to finally be able to talk to me about sports knowing I would listen. He also says we’re all watching the season finale together.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “It’s called the World Series, asshole.”

“Kind of pretentious to call it that, don’tcha think, seeing as how it’s only America playing?”

Letting out a huff, Steve crawled over Eddie to look down at him, straddling a thigh as both his brows raised high over his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. But…” Steve’s expression softened into a small, almost shy smile. “Thank you. For loving me.”

Eddie smiled back up at Steve, settling back against the couch cushions and bringing his arms up to lightly hook over his shoulders and crossing them behind Steve’s neck. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied simply. “Now, will you please go back to my preppy sexy boyfriend who listens to ABBA and complains about bad hair days? I miss him dreadfully.”

Steve felt his happiness bubbling up inside him again, grinning down at Eddie before leaning in to take his lips in a giddy kiss. “Maybe you should take your Iron Maiden shirt back then, right now,” he murmured meaningfully against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie grinned beneath him. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “And get this pink monstrosity off too.”

Steve pulled back at that, planting his hand flat on Eddie’s chest to stop him from moving to do just that, causing Eddie to still beneath him. Steve slid his gaze over said pink monstrosity, wetting his lips with darkening eyes.

“No,” he murmured, voice roughened as he slid his gaze back up to Eddie’s widening eyes, a soft pink flush entering pale cheeks. “Keep it on.”

And he did.

At least until it was too ruined to be saved. But they could always buy Eddie another polo later.

Steve’s insecurities weren’t magically gone from one conversation, of course, but it proved to be a great start. There were still moments when Steve felt like he wasn’t good enough, but it helped to know that Eddie felt the same way at times too, that they were both so in love and would do anything for the other person.

After that day, the two worked together to find a new middle ground. Steve still supported Corroded Coffin at all their shows, wearing their shirts and other merch frequently, and even kept his studded leather bracelet that matched Eddie’s own. He went back to wearing his polos in his day-to-day life, however, and styling his hair with near ridiculous amounts of hairspray.

They talked about their hobbies, with Eddie making a mix tape of the metal songs that Steve actually ended up liking, and Eddie even found enjoyment in playing the occasional game of ball with Steve and even Lucas and the others sometimes joined in. (Sure, he mostly liked the way Steve looked all sweaty and flushed with exertion, but he had some genuine fun shooting balls into “laundry baskets” all the same too.)

They made compromises in the movies they watched, the foods they ate, and Steve took on a more passive role during DnD nights. His character decided to strike out on his own, in story, though he would occasionally rejoin the adventurers when their paths crossed, allowing Steve to play when he felt in the mood and sit out when he wasn’t. Steve had even cajoled Nancy into rejoining the game with him sometimes, much to the Party’s (especially Dustin’s) delight.

Eddie never really took to polos for regular wear, though he did wear the occasional Henley and Steve had convinced Eddie to take better care of his hair, helping his boyfriend set up a couple different routines based on the time frame he had to work with before events or daily life, earning numerous compliments on the healthy curls he now regularly sported. Steve loved the mornings where they got to primp together, and even Eddie flushed with happiness when they caught each other’s eyes in the mirror or helped each other fluff their hair.

Eddie also summoned the Party and acted like a drill sergeant as he commanded each of them to give Steve’s car a deep cleaning and detailing, shampooing and vacuuming and waxing the inside and outside until the BMW gleamed like practically new. He also helped enforce the rules about leaving no mess behind, either by forbidding open food containers or by picking up after themselves. Steve was so impressed by it that he couldn’t help dirtying the car a little again by taking Eddie into the backseat after everything.

They took down the posters and flyers and random crap that covered Steve’s walls, though Steve kept up the Black Sabbath and Dio posters, even if he made Eddie straighten them up. He also kept up the Corroded Coffin flag Eddie had made him, though he began adding his own decorations as well through encouragement from Eddie. Eddie even got him a banner for his favorite sports team, hanging it up right next to the Corroded Coffin flag. (Later, when Steve eventually moved out of his parents’ abandoned house, Eddie would cut a swatch of the wallpaper from the wall, framing the bit of plaid for Steve to carrying with them to their eventual shared home.)

Robin was a menace, of course, and continually made passing comments about needing earrings. The threat was not lost on Eddie and he always made certain he showered Steve in praise and confirmed his love for him whenever Robin gave him the stink eye. Steve may or may not sometimes signal when he wanted the threat made, especially around important dates like holidays and anniversaries.

And Eddie did make good on his comment about asking Robin’s permission for a certain question, though in his nervousness and excitement he fumbled actually asking Steve for forever and instead accidentally threw the ring at Steve one night after a dinner he’d tried to make but inevitably burned. They ordered take out and laughed about it, then Steve made certain Eddie never had to doubt his ‘yes’ right there in the kitchen. And living room. And bedroom. And then for good measure in the shower.

Steve always remained a prep, and Eddie always remained a metalhead, but over the years they slowly adopted and adapted bits and pieces of each other’s style, though Eddie couldn’t ever wear a polo to tease Steve without Steve immediately dragging him into bed. Or to the nearest flat surface.

There were days that the insecurities would crop up still, of course, for both of them. These days grew less over the years, the commitment Steve and Eddie felt for each other reflected in the matching rings they wore, exchanged during a small ceremony that, though not legal in the eyes of the law, was no less absolute in their hearts.

Because Steve knew now what those insecurities were, what the voice was that whispered that he would never be good enough for anyone, and he knew what to say when they tried to tear him down. And he would smile when he said it, safe, content, and secure in his and Eddie’s love.

“Bullshit.”

-

As I said before, I am tagging everyone who asked to be tagged, so if I’ve accidentally missed you or tagged the wrong person, I apologize. It’s a lot of people. Heh.

Tagged: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @petalsandpixels @coolgirldad @xxbottlecapx @yesdangerpls @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @miss-wright

@brainsteddielyrotted @nerdyglassescheeseychick @ohimamarigold @sofadofax @moss-g0blin @secretly-kait @blossomingblueberries @my-love-of-books @blounette @p0lybl4nkk

@sapphicsforsteve @wearespacedust @mae-liz @stripey82 @tinyplanet95 @0mochiia0 @sunnycycle @jaytriesstrangerthings @hotluncheddie @dragonmama76

@stevieschrodinger @townseleven @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @novacorpsrecruit @mugloversonly @imaginary-maggie-waggie @pointlessmosswitch @fatiguedclown @prazinos

@thedragonsaunt @bookworm0690 @brazenliar @samsoble @wrenisflying @queenie-ofthe-void @breealtair @highqueenhalalie @steddieassheg0es @theintrovertedintrovert

(rest of tags will be in a reblog, did not realize how many I had agreed to lol my bad)

[hurtspideyparker]

Happy Hogan and his Nemesis (a Teenager with ADHD)

Peter Parker is a very unorganized SI intern who inadvertently and constantly terrorizes Happy Hogan, the head of security.

Peter regularly forgets his badge and sets off alarms, and then goes "you know me, I'm here all the time!" to any and everyone who stops him

Peter who steals very expensive and weaponizable tech because "I thought I could work on it a bit at home?"

Peter who accidentally wanders to restricted areas because "well I'm always curious what others are working on, I'm here to learn" ("how did you even get in, there are three locked doors between here and the elevator?!" "well first I saw my janitor friend and she opened the door for me to chat, the second one was propped open, and the third time I just walked in after this random guy. If he called security on me then he's really telling on himself...")

Happy who is always trying to get this random intern fired for his irresponsibility, terrible time management, spying, and dangerous lack of safety protocol, and yet he still comes in everyday to Happy's (and HR's) disgruntled amazement

Peter: Happy! Happy! Tell these guys to let me through!

Happy: Only my friends call me that, 16 year old interns do not.

Peter: Sorry, sorry. Mr. Hogan, please tell these guys I work here. I just misplaced my badge again

Happy: Peter you need that badge, what if you were fired? I can't be letting just anyone into the building

Peter: I so was not fired, ask FRIDAY

FRIDAY: Confirmed sir, Peter Parker is still employed with Stark Industries

Happy: God I know it's true but I don't know HOW

Happy becomes convinced the boy is part of a corporate espionage scheme and someone is hacking their system to delete all the complaints against him. He starts to stalk Peter to watch out for any nefarious activity, like poisoning the scientists' coffee orders

This (one-sided) feud comes to an end when Happy learns that this is not one of hundreds of interns within the company, but Tony Stark's personal intern. Tony loves this kid and waves off any and all HR complaints. To Happy's chagrin Peter is, in fact, an irreplaceable genius, and not a complete moron who only got the internship through nepotism

Happy: What the hell is he doing here, he's gonna get you killed! Either he's a spy or he's an idiot. Actually he's probably both, because I catch him doing shady stuff all the time

Tony: Who, Peter? He works for me directly. I hired the kid on his emails alone, but then I saw his work. That medical imaging model that's 30% cheaper for hospitals to run? He did that his first week here

Happy: But...but...

Peter: Happy do you think you could make the badges pink? I don't think I'd lose it if it was pink, the white is so boring. Also I need a new one, I stepped on mine again :(

Happy: 20 years I've worked for you, you finally start to retire, then hire someone just as chaotic but 3 times younger. Tony Stark Jr... This job is going to kill me.