#I'm just word vomiting I'm still in shock over what I have witnessed

[yujeong]

Ok, Ok, I think I need to lay down. Yes, SandRay floored us today. Yes, Khaotung wanted to personally kill me with his acting and First with his huge eyes filled with tears. Yes, whatever the fuck TopMew had going on this episode had me pull my hair in frustration in a good way, because Mew is a hilariously horrible person and Boeing is unhinged. BUT. Listen. BostonNick stole the episode for me. That scene. That fucking scene. Everything that happened before that scene was the perfect set up. Atom setting Boston up. Cheum and co going to his house to shame him and denounce him as their friend. Nick and Dan. Their encounter at Nick's shop. It was all delicious and perfectly executed but it could never prepare me for this. We see Boston looking sad at the distance and Nick coming to him to talk (after he saw Boston's feelings about him through the fucking phone wallpaper pls, I'm not OK). He asks him and Boston is defensive but then Nick insists and Boston, in his need to have someone comfort him FINALLY, says what happened. At first Nick responds by telling him how things are; seems legit, he says, given what you've done. Boston tells him to cut it off but not in his usual way, he's not cruel or rude, he's simply asking to not be shit on rn. Nick listens and apologizes and he means it and I love it.

But Boston feels weird and cannot understand wtf is wrong with him and it's real and I love that he trusted Nick to ask him about it. And Nick's answer is perfect for Boston, because sure, for us, the audience it seems so obvious; of course Boston is doing fucked up shit in his desperation to be loved and accepted, but Boston doesn't know that. No one TOLD him that, no one SHOWED him that.

Boston's answer to that is even better, because he still doesn't understand. And he needs a more valid reason than that.

Nick's answer? Oh, my beautiful nasty little boy. He was so real for it. He needed to gather himself to say it. He needed time to utter those words. "I also did nasty shit to you, Boston" he tells him. "Maybe we belong together" What Boston said next was breathtaking. I love him for that.

He might as well have said "I love you" here. It has the same weight as that phrase. That's why Nick breaks down. That's why he kisses him like that, crying uncontrollably and telling him he missed him too. Because we already knew about Nick's feelings towards Boston. We knew the guy had an obsession turned love towards him. But with Boston it's different. And Nick thought so too before this phrase was uttered, before Boston basically confessed he has feelings for Nick, or more precisely, that Nick is special to Boston. And he proceeds to say it AGAIN, after Nick says it. He says AGAIN how he missed him and he THANKS him for staying by his side with TEARS in his own eyes. They hug while crying together, please, I'm too weak for this. And then they make LOVE. They don't just fuck, they make sweet love to each other while staring at each other's eyes and kissing and being cute and I fucking DIED right there. BostonNick is all I ever wanted and more. I need MORE, please, I can't handle myself. This episode was SO GOOD, I can't DEAL with this.

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Part Four: "Macchiat- Oh No..." ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) Back in Hawkins, the time has come for Reader to break the news to her boyfriend… only, he doesn't take it as well as she'd hoped. — (Now) When Steve stops by for his daily coffee, things take a sour turn when his ex-girlfriend walks in.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader (Reader x Jason Carver and Steve x Brenda are both featured as well)

Word Count: 2,401

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, mentions of vomit, adoption/abortion talk, mild swearing, Reader slaps and hits Jason, food consumption (Reader and Steve share a cookie), Jason is sorta out of character, lmk if i missed anything lol!

Extra Notes: so sorry this chapter was late, life is crazy rn lol but i hope y'all enjoy!

Originally Written: 11/28/2023 through 12/19/2023

honeysuckleharringtons' main masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, August of 1987 ]

You knew it was impossible, but you were sure you'd just witnessed your boyfriend's eyes double in size. "Y-You're what?" he stuttered, his hands grabbing hold of the wooden bedpost beside him.

You couldn't say you blamed him. After all, you were nearly thirteen weeks along and still having trouble believing the news yourself. "I'm pregnant," you repeated. "We're gonna have a baby, Jay."

His normally glowy and tanned skin turned snow white. "No," he said, the word coated with disbelief and something close to anger. "I can't- We can't have a baby."

Rather than the excitement you'd hoped to feel when finally telling him your news, your heart felt like it was being crushed into a million tiny pieces. Pain and guilt and confusion stung in your stomach, and while you hadn't experienced morning sickness in almost two weeks, you were sure you were on the verge of throwing up. "What do you mean?" you asked in confusion and shock.

"I leave next week for college. I'm gonna be in California. I can't…"

Your hand met his shoulder softly, the pad of your thumb rubbing soft lines along his covered skin. "I know it's scary, but I know we can make this work, Jay. I'm-"

"No," he repeated, his voice stern this time. "I cannot have a kid. We have to get rid of it."

Confusion soon melted into betrayal as you realized what he'd meant by his earlier statement. Anger burned in your veins, your fists clenching. "Excuse me?"

"Y/N, imagine what that would do to my reputation. I mean, I'm about to join one of the most renowned basketball teams in America."

An aggravated scoff left your lips as you moved away from him, suddenly unsure if you could contain your anger if you continued to sit beside him on the bed. "Well, I'm sorry this puts such a damper in your plans."

The room, which once felt so full of love and lust, was now spinning in a storm of betrayal and fury. The bed, where your child had been conceived, was now the place where you'd experienced your first true heartbreak. You stumbled backward a few steps, gripping his dresser for dear life as you processed the scene in front of you.

"Y/N, you know it's not me," he argued. "You know what my parents would do if I ruined my full ride like this."

You truly wanted to believe this wasn't his idea, knowing Jason's dad wasn't much better than your own father—before he left anyway. But you knew him better than anyone, and you knew for a fact that when Jason had an idea in his head, he was going to go through with it.

He stood, walking toward you. Tears brimmed in his eyes, blue and heavy and beautiful, like two oceans you could get lost swimming in. A hand raised up to your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen from your own eyes. "It'll be okay. We can fix this. You can give it up for adoption or-"

You cursed yourself for even beginning to think he was starting to come over to your side. Your palms lay flat on his hard chest, pushing him away. "I love how you assume that I'm on your side, Jason. I mean, did you ever stop to consider maybe I want to keep this baby?"

He faltered, stepping back toward the bed. "Why? You've got your whole-"

"My whole life ahead of me?" you finished his sentence, the words filled with disbelief. "Jason, your dad makes more in one month than my mom and I make in a year combined. I can't afford to move to California for college like you can."

"So what, you're just gonna do like all the other women in Hawkins? Get pregnant and have four kids and live out in the suburbs?"

You really and truthfully couldn't believe what you were hearing. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

His next sentence was like a viper bite, so venomous that it stung down to your bones. "It is when it's not what either of us wants."

Tears that previously pricked your eyes began to fall like rain storms as your hands met his chest, slapping and shoving as his words of duplicity repeated like skipping records in your head. You knew it wasn't right to treat him this way, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Incoherent sobs and screams flew from your lips, hitting his chest with smack after smack.

"You selfish bastard!" you cried, striking his polo-clad skin. "How dare you tell me what I do or don't want?"

He just stood there and took the blows like nothing was happening, passive and composed. You hated that he acted like this was just a casual Friday, yet you envied him for being so in control of his emotions, his placid expression not allowing you to see any kind of hidden feeling behind those blue eyes you once called home.

Teardrops fell as your chest heaved, a thousand different emotions swirling like a tornado inside you. The man who'd once picked up your broken pieces had now left you shattered, a million tiny splinters of grief scattered across his bedroom floor.

As if flipping a light switch, you forced yourself to calm down, removing your flying fists from his chest and drying up your crocodile tears. You grabbed your coat, backing toward the exit. You took one last look around the room, knowing this was exactly how you'd remember it when his name was mentioned or when your baby opened its eyes to reveal the same ocean blue shade its father had all those years ago.

[ Now, December of 1991 ]

"If you decide you want to grow a set of balls and learn how to grow the hell up," you practically spat at him, gripping the doorknob much tighter than necessary, "you know where to find me, Jason Carver."

"Here is that-"

Your sentence was quickly cut off by Steve grabbing your arm and pulling you into the booth beside him. His cold palm sent goosebumps running up your arm where your sweater sleeve had slid up, his fingertips juxtaposingly shooting hot sparks through you.

Still, you cleared your throat, confused by his sudden, out-of-character action. "You that desperate for a date, Harrington?"

"Actually, yes," he whispered, not making eye contact with you and instead staring toward the door.

Brows furrowing, you turned to see what exactly had stolen the man's attention. When your eyes landed on it, or rather her, you could've sworn you felt bile rising in your throat.

Her long and tanned legs sported what looked to be the most beautiful and most expensive skirt you'd ever seen, despite the forty degree weather outside. The baby pink sweater that flowed around her top half only complemented her skin tone and her gorgeous blonde hair, curled to perfection. Her makeup was perfect, but she didn't even need it because when she smiled, it lit up the whole room. Jealousy and hurt flowed through you as you realized she was everything you weren't.

"You see that girl sitting down in the booth by the door?" Steve asked. You suddenly had the urge to smack him for even mentioning her.

Still, you pushed your feelings down and turned back toward him, meeting him once again with pinched brows. "Yes…" your voice trailed. "I'm sorry. What do I have to do with-"

"That's my ex-girlfriend," he whispered, still keeping a wary eye on the woman.

Your mouth flew open as you realized your mistake, your previous jealousy quickly melting into embarrassment. Though, you did still feel a slight tinge of envy at the prospect of any girl holding Steve's hand or kissing his lips when you couldn't, but that was a story for another time.

Your eyes twinkled mischievously at his unspoken proposition. "Steve Harrington, are you asking me on a playdate?"

He moved uncomfortably in his seat as he continued to watch the blonde across the shop. "When you put it like that, it seems more childish than it should."

"Oh, it's definitely as childish as it seems," you grinned. "But I suppose I can play along since the most popular boy on the playground invited me to his little game."

You stood, walking quickly to the counter. After making sure the blonde wasn't looking—she was instead looking at a handsome brunet who'd just sat down across from her—you quickly grabbed a cookie from the display counter and sprinted back to Steve's table.

This time his brows furrowed, but you just answered him with, "If we're gonna play, we need toys and props."

He let out an exasperated sigh, and you reveled in his defeat. "You're eating this up, aren't you?"

"The same way we're about to eat this cookie."

Before you could process what was happening, he was tossing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. Your breath caught in your throat, and your skin was boiling hot where his fingers touched you through your cardigan.

"Oh, my God," the brightest and cheeriest voice you'd ever heard greeted you. "Steve Harrington?"

Steve feigned surprise as he made eye contact with the woman he'd been watching. "Brenda? Wow, you look…"

"I know!" she smiled, her cheeks rosy. You wanted to throw up just watching their interaction. "You don't look so bad yourself. I mean, how long has it been? Four-"

"Five years," he corrected her. You could've sworn he grimaced at the memory. "So, what are you up to now?"

She showed off her engagement ring happily, and both Steve's and your eyes nearly popped out of your eye sockets at the size of the diamond in the middle. "Matt and I were actually on our way up to Boston for a cake tasting but he wanted to stop for some coffee first."

"Huh, who would've thought?" Something flashed in Steve's eyes that you'd never seen from him: hurt. You weren't sure what had happened between them, but your heart stung as you watched that brief surge of painful nostalgia wash over him. Had it not been for you watching Steve all those months and learning all his reactions, you might've missed it.

A brief moment of silence overtook your table, so you decided to carry on to the next topic, thankful that your job had somewhat taught you how to think fast. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Y/N, Steve's girlfriend," you said, holding out your hand toward the blonde.

Girlfriend. It'd been so long since you'd been one of those, you'd forgotten how nice it was to say. But with Steve… the word left you feeling a satisfaction you'd never felt before.

Brenda took your hand, shaking it curtly. "Pleased to meet you. It's nice to see Steve finally found someone who'll settle him down."

The man muttered something under his breath, so quiet Brenda didn't notice and you couldn't tell what it was. At full volume, he said, "Who would've thought that one up either?"

She let out a laugh, one almost as sickeningly sweet as the frappuccino in Steve's hand. A quick smile flashed across her lips before she said, "I guess I have to get going if Matt and I are going to make our appointment with the baker but it was good to see you, Steve. And nice to meet you, Y/N."

You and Steve both chirped out a response before she headed toward the door, a string of laughs leaving her lips as her fiancé wrapped an arm around her from behind. You'd never been one to hate love, but suddenly you wished this was the seventeenth century, where public displays of affection were outlawed.

Steve took a piece of the cookie, the feeling of his hand brushing yours bringing you out of your slightly maniacal thoughts. He threw it into his mouth, and you realized just how much you wanted to feel it touch your own mouth. What is with me today? you wondered silently.

"So that was Brenda," he said, a chuckle nearly falling behind his sentence.

You snickered, taking a bite of the cookie yourself. "So it was," you snickered before tossing back the sugar cookie's goodness. "She always been drop dead gorgeous or is it just that post-grad, pre-wedding glow?"

A low laugh rumbled from his chest, and the sound made tingles shoot up your spine. "She's always been something." Sarcasm coated the words.

"You wanna talk about it?"

His arm was still around your shoulders, and both of you were extremely aware of it. The tips of his fingers touching your sweater clad skin, your body practically flush against his side, both your faces close enough to feel the warmth of the other person's breath. As if realizing it at the same time, you scooted closer to the edge of the seat and he removed his arm, placing his hands in his lap.

"Not much to talk about," he answered, nonchalantly ignoring the arm-around-the-shoulders business. "I was a bit of a party boy in my first year at Aster."

Your mouth fell open in fake shock. "I never would've guessed! A handsome guy like you? No way you got invited to parties every weekend."

"I take it back," he quipped, and you had to resist a laugh, "I don't want your number anymore. And I sure as hell don't wanna tell you about my ex-girlfriend drama."

"Okay, okay, I'll behave." Another laugh fought to escape your lips.

"I was a bit of a party boy. But I met her and things changed." That hurt from before flashed across Steve's face again, causing your heart to sting once more. "I thought she'd be the one. But nothing I ever did was good enough. One day I found out she'd cheated on me three different times, trying to find someone better and I dipped. Haven't really dated since."

You thought about someone you hadn't thought of in years, how you were convinced he was the one. How he left you feeling like a crumpled up piece of garbage on the ground afterward. How he hadn't apologized or reached out since.

Suddenly, you realized, maybe you and Steve weren't so different after all. Maybe, just maybe, if you gave him the chance, the two of you could be more similar than you ever imagined.

Y'all, I am so so sorry this chapter is so late 😭

I feel like those posts about the AO3 authors that are like "A/N: sorry this is late, i got hit by a train" but that's truly what it feels like happened these past two weeks LOL. I have had so much happening in my personal life between work and sickness and ending up in the ER and now Christmas. It was... insane lol

Regardless of all that, I hope this was worth the wait and I'm so happy to be posting for you guys again! Chapter five will be up in just a little bit so I hope you guys enjoyed this one for now! Happy holidays from me and the B&M crew! 🤎

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @hazydespair

[sentience-if]

uuuuuuh now I need to see drunk!val, looks like fun.

okay :)

"Can you- can you hold the fuckin planet still for a moment?"

Io's on their hands and knees, gripping the rug like they can force the world to bend to their will. They've got the spins, bad, both of them do, though Val isn't going to admit it so easily.

"Where's your sea legs, you drunk bitch?" Val retorts, sprawled on the floor beside Io. If they close their eyes just right it feels natural, like a gentle rolling of the earth. Is this meditation? This might be meditation.

"I believe the proper word is landlubber."

"No one says that. No more dime novels for you. I'm taking them all away."

Val starts to roll to their feet, threateningly reaching towards the haphazard stack of books, but their plans are foiled with a shriek and a thud as Io pushes them back down and into the rug. The jarring motion sends a typhoon of dizziness through them both.

The floor pitches like the deck of a ship and for a moment you're eighteen again, listening to the creaking of wood and the flapping of sails, the taste of half-stale beer on your lips. The moon is full and the water is black, the boards of the deck slick and salty but what-

there's not-

it's wrong

Scraps for vultures, someone says, close to your ear.

And nothing for Saints, you answer automatically.

You don't have a second to parse the desperation in their voice and yours before you're over the side and water is burning your lungs and stinging your eyes but it can't muffle the awful sounds coming from the deck of the ship-

Val sits up with an urgent fury and wildly reaches for the nearest bowl-shaped object before they can spew their guts all over their (already admittedly stained) clothing. The vomit's hot and horrible, but somehow just enough to drag them back to the present, however violently. When the heaving stops, they look down to see they've ruined a felted woolen hat. It's not their own.

Shocked, delighted laughter rings in Val's ears, and their eyes meet their companion's sheepishly. Io is snorting deliriously at the scene unfolding before them.

"My fuckin' hat, you ass," they slur, teetering backwards with the force of their own laughter.

"Sorry," Val manages, and is rewarded with another drunk snigger. Io's smile is bright, so bright. "Maybe it's… maybe it's time for bed."

Io hums in agreement, and perhaps defeat, and fortunately has enough of their wits about them to fetch Val a cup of water and to guide them to a blanket. The world's still spinning when Val reaches for Io's hand, and the sun is rising when they release it again.

[elysianymph]

jegulily enemies to lovers!!

AAAA i go FERAL over this idea all the time!! don't mind the word vomit you're about to witness, none of these sentences are grammatically correct i fear

ok ok so it's more lovers to enemies to lovers but still

jegulily date in this au, kinda. there's a brief period during their hogwarts years where regulus is just desperate enough for attention, james is coming off of his high horse and becoming bearable and lily is breaking away from her toxic friendship with snape. basically right place right time, or rather wrong place wrong time bc they end up meeting together (how they do i'm not too sure but i'll figure it out)

they all know each other from before obviously. james and regulus hate each other, they're been at each other's throats a couple times under the guise of quidditch rivalries but only they know it goes much deeper than that. regulus has a strange respect for lily because of how smart and talented she is, but he's confused about it bc... she's a muggleborn?? lily pities regulus because she sees herself reflected in him. james and lily are like acquaintances at this point, that awkward phase where james is maturing and lily is realising that hems not that bad at all

so they get closer, secret meetings and all that and when jily graduate they plan to get regulus out of grimmauld as soon as possible so they will all be safe once the war starts

enter walburga and her plans to suck up to voldemort so their family will get some prestige back. the blacks are kind of going through a crisis because two very prominent family members have rebelled, not to mention the ones before them, and what better way to prove themselves as purebloods than to have the heir take on the dark mark?

regulus does not want it, but he doesn't have much of a choice. his father is sick and his situation is only getting worse which means regulus is soon to become the man of the house and the only male heir. if he runs away he knows walburga will find him and hunt down anyone who stands in her way and he can't have james or lily hurt or sirius dragged back to the family he so desperately ran away from. so he takes the mark.

but he remains with james and lily, listening as they plan and scheme how they are going to save him without knowing that he is too far gone. he has signed his life over. it's only when lily gets persistent that regulus should take his chances and run while his father is weak that he can't take it anymore and he yanks up his sleeve, revealing the dark mark. both lily and james stand in shock, not really processing what is going on and while they regain their composure, regulus has already left their flat and is never heard from again.

canon stuff happens: voldemort returns, jily get married and have harry, snape overhears the prophecy but when he goes to tell voldemort, regulus is nearby and is able to gather just enough information to connect the dots. once he realizes that it's lily and james who are in danger he immediately starts planning.

canon continues although the timeline is a bit messed up: voldemort uses kreacher, regulus finds out about the locket and goes into the cave. only this time he doesn't send kreacher back with the duty of hiding the real locket, instead he tells him to find james and lily and explain everything about voldemort's plans and the horcruxes. he hopes that will be enough to make up for his mistakes.

kreacher doesn't like this plan very much bc he ends up going against regulus' orders and leaves both the locket AND regulus at the potter's doorstep, then he disappears. james opens the door to a feverish and bloodied regulus and, against his better judgement, takes him in to heal him. lily is furious (as she should be) bc her husband just brought in a death eater (+their ex) into their safe house while voldemort is literally trying to hunt them down!!

regulus wakes up on their couch and lily drugs him so he will tell them the truth. dramatic revelations and "i love you"s are spoken but it's too late for them to fix anything. they work on a plan to get the rest of the horcruxes all while trying to figure out who the spy is + hiding regulus from everyone bc they don't know who they can trust anymore.

enter regulus and harry bonding, jegulily reminiscing about what they used to have, complicated plans involving fraud, polyjuice potions, explosives and MURDER (lily evans should be in jail but she's a girlboss so we'll let it slide). i'll stop here in hopes of keeping something secret if i end up writing this hehehe

but in short lots of morally grey characters, angst, hurt/comfort (wow!), character studies, war crimes and baby harry being cute and lightening the mood of every chapter. i should really write this man

[rosewould]

cynics; jns

part vi

masterlist

words; 7.1k

genre; angst & smut

warnings; hate comments mentioning suicide, revenge porn(?), depictions of rotting food, vomiting, sex w/ Jungwoo again, choking, rough sex, long dick!Jungwoo

preface; This took to long because I rewrote this about a dozen times and I'm glad I did. If I released that first idea I had, it would've been real bad lmao. I'm really proud of this chapter and if it flops more than usual I will experience a tragic ego death. Also first full smut scene whoo! It still feels weird putting on in this fic...

"you stupid piece of shit"

"rot in hell!"

"you should just fucking kill yourself"

"you'll pay for what you did"

Johnny couldn't focus on anything else. He tried to get more information but his phone kept buzzing. His shaky fingers turn off notifications for all the social media apps on his phone. No way those fucking idiots did this.

After getting no valuable information, Johnny opted to distract himself. No amount of video games, movies, or books could do the job. His heart never slowed. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. The words he was sent kept cutting through each thought. They have no proof it was YangYang or his friends, but a couple of streamers at the party reported seeing Naeun with YangYang, Lucas, and Johnny that night. YangYang seems to be public enemy number one since he was seen entering and exiting the bathroom by multiple witnesses. The biggest nail in the coffin being Dejun.

He was never involved in drama. When he was dragged into it, he approached the situation with objectivity and empathy. There were very few streamers unanimously loved and respected by the community. Whether it be their fandom, content, or questionable takes, there's always a caveat. Not Dejun. Everyone trusts Dejun.

"I did see her leave the bathroom with YangYang. Listen, I don't know much about the people involved. I don't want to stir up drama so carelessly like this, but there were only streamers at that party. Someone is responsible for this... disgusting deed and they should be held accountable. This could ruin Naeun's life. I don't care what you think about her or her content, this is completely unacceptable."

It was his biggest stream to date. This was one of the biggest scandals to hit the platform. This was bad. Extremely fucking bad. And it somehow got worse.

"What? What group chat?" Dejun searches google for everyone to see. Tens of thousands of people watch in awe as the shocking news is revealed. "There's a group chat for sharing female streamers' nudes?" Dejun raises his voice, face contorting in revulsion. "The source says it was started by streamers..."

That's when all hell broke loose. People had already made up their minds that YangYang took the pictures. Screenshots show the culprit confirming they were taken at the party. But now there were more culprits to be caught, and the pitchforks were out.

For once, the parasites had left Johnny's home. The one time he was afraid to be alone with his thoughts. How could they do something so reckless? So foolish? So rotten?

And Johnny associated himself with people like this. Let them in his house. Like it was instinctual, Johnny's eyes move toward the black sludge on the floor. His house was a pig sty. The smell was stomach wrenching. His flowers had all wilted. He stumbles toward his fridge, eyes watering as soon as he opens the door. He pinches his nose as he watches a hoard of flies flee from the rotting food. Unable to take it anymore, Johnny keels over, retching into a nearby garbage can. His stomach lurches as he empties its scarce contents. The smell of the garbage is no better. He can't escape the smell of rot as he heaves.

He continues to dry heave with nothing left to purge from his system. Unable to lose the overwhelming nausea.

-

You refresh Naeun's Twitter profile again. Her last update was the night of the party. You refresh again, unable to ignore the sinking feeling when no new tweets come up. You started following her on Twitch to see if you'd get a notification for a stream. Nothing.

"Whenever you feel up to it, consider telling your part of the story. No pressure."

It seemed like a no-brainer. Naeun probably feels alone right now. Her silence is beyond worrying. So why isn’t the ‘okay’ rolling off your tongue? Why does your face pinch up at the thought of doing so?

You feel even more guilty looking at your notifications. You’ve grown by thousands of followers. Your comment sections are all filled with love. You’re thriving.

“Our audience really loved you and we’ve been thinking, why don’t you join the Dreamies?”

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t give anyone a clear answer. You couldn’t give yourself one. Touching either subject felt like touching fire. The more thought you put into it, the more you felt like recoiling from the subject altogether.

You refresh Naeun’s account again, letting out a heavy exhale at the lack of an update.

-

"I know you're still not happy with me after what I said that day." After a long, suffocating silence, Jisoo finally speaks, making you pick your head up.

"I don't really like how we left things either."

"Jisoo, I told you it's fine." You don’t look directly at her, just in her general direction.

"You don't want to talk about it, I can tell, but we have to. I don't like how I worded it, but there's a point at the core of what I said that I need you to understand."

You shut your eyes, face tense.

"I made it about me being frustrated with your relationship with those guys and I shouldn't have. The point I tried to make is this worrying cycle. No matter how poorly they treat you, you somehow end up around them. I don't think you've put enough thought into that." Jisoo leans closer to you from her spot on your bed, placing her hand on your knee. Her sincerity is difficult to ignore, it's difficult to keep up your guard. You still try, tensing up from her touch. You didn't want to have this talk. Not right now with all this going on.

"All the times I've run into them after I broke things off were not my doing. If anything they somehow end up around me." The lie was big enough to linger in your mind long after you spoke it. She didn't know you invited them in that night. She didn't know you were briefed about their presence at the party. There was a loud insistence in your mind that there was nothing to address. The sheer existence of the lie muffled that insistence.

Jisoo opens her mouth, hesitant to say what's on the tip of her tongue. "With the Naeun situation-"

"Ugh- Fuck! I don't want to talk about this! My pictures aren't in that group chat! YangYang didn't touch me! This has nothing to do with me!" You insist defensively. The root of the defensiveness perplexed you. If what you said was true, what was there to be defensive about? Never mind your trembling hands and increased heart rate. And that horrible feeling you got after saying the situation had nothing to do with you was formidable.

"Please, just listen!" Jisoo urges. She clenches her eyes shut, biting her quivering lip. "Who knows how many other girls there are? How many more girls are at risk to end up like Naeun?"

Her words gnaw at you, deepening the ache the guilt already caused. "Jisoo, I can't bring myself to understand why you're forcing me to think about this."

"It's because I think you're staying quiet to protect them." Jisoo answers quickly. She swallows hard. That feeling that she's hurting you is back, and without her frustration, it stings a lot more. "You have to understand that saying that is not easy. But you see now why I'm so worried, right? There is so much on the line if you stay quiet, but you're so adamant about it that my mind only went to one place." Jisoo says in a delicate voice.

"No. Absolutely not." You state bluntly. On the surface, it was downright ridiculous. What would you gain from protecting them?

"Okay, that's a relief," Jisoo breathes, "I just want you to think about it, okay?" She rubs your back and you nod. "And... just remember. The girls are probably afraid to speak up because they don't want their pictures to be leaked as well."

You grow rigid again when she brings the topic back up. "You don't have any material they can blackmail you with. Just... promise me you'll think about it?"

There it is. More reason for you to feel ashamed of not speaking up. There’s no excuse.

The air grows cold between the two of you and you pull away from her, all to Jisoo's dismay. "Can you leave, please? I'd like to be alone." You murmur.

Quietly, Jisoo stands from your bed. Once she reaches your door, she turns back to say something but decides against it. After you hear two sets of doors close you let out a shaky exhale. You ball your fists, trying and failing to contain your paralyzing concern.

-

"Look what I found!" You sing before flashing a toothy grin. Clasped in your fists were two bunches of pink and white larkspurs. Johnny gasps, pushing himself off the concrete ledge onto the plush grass.

"Oh my god... where did you find these?" He asks, excitement gleaming in his eyes. He cups his hands around your fists, gazing fondly at the flowers.

"That garden we saw out the window! Do you remember? Seventh grade?" You giggle, blissfully unaware of what you just admitted to. Johnny shouts your name before moving one hand to cover his mouth.

"So you stole?" YangYang stands from the spot he was sitting next to Johnny, an amused smirk on his face. You look at him, this stranger that just accused you of a crime, in disbelief.

"I did not! I mean... I did! But they won't even notice! They had tons! Show-offs." You counter defensively before blowing hair out of your face with a hardy puff of air.

"Yeah, that's still stealing. I didn't know the friend he's always going on about was a thief." His smug face still suggested he found humor in your reaction to his accusation.

"Who is this... guy?!" You turn your head slowly to look at Johnny with a bewildered expression.

"This is YangYang. And this is the girl I was telling you about." Johnny says, still pensive about the questionably acquired flowers.

"I kinda guessed as much. She's just like you described her-- well," YangYang turns from Johnny to you before pressing his lips into a thin line, "minus the thievery."

"Okay that's it. I'm going to the vending machines and when I come back! There better be no more troubling assumptions. But first," You lean forward to Johnny, whispering in his ear. His face turns red hot. "your hand, lovie."

Johnny looks down, his face searing even further if that were even possible. One of his hands was still firmly wrapped around your fist. He pulls away like he just got scorched. "Sorry!"

"Here." You press the flowers to his chest before smiling and kissing him on the cheek. If it were possible, his head would be engulfed in flames. YangYang watches you get a fair distance away before looking at Johnny.

"Dude, do you like her?" YangYang asks in genuine inquiry. Johnny clenches the flowers in his hands tighter before looking around the schoolyard.

"No! Of course not."

"I have never seen someone get so red in my life." He says with a knowing look.

"No! I don't! Why would I?" He whispers insistently.

"Why not?"

‘Why not?’, a straightforward question that complicated Johnny's thoughts. Realizing how reprehensible it was to say you were ugly like the other kids do, Johnny was left speechless. He didn't think you were ugly.

Noticing his struggle to answer, YangYang pats his arm. "Look, if you like her, what's so wrong with that? Liking someone isn't about pleasing everyone else."

His words stun Johnny even further, so he purses his lips and pats his arm a second time.

"YangYang! You comin' or what?" A group of boys that beckoned him earlier yell from across the field.

He walks backward as he sends Johnny a short wave. "Just some food for thought. See you later man."

-

"It wasn't me! Everyone is already accusing me with no substantial proof!" YangYang shouts, frenzied from his boisterous voice to his irregular body language.

"So you didn't take the photos." Taeyong's eyes linger on the computer, the reflection of the screen projected onto the lenses of his glasses. Only at the sound of YangYang's stammering does he calmly look up at him.

"I-I- You know what I mean! I didn't post the pictures on Twitter! That was someone else, probably a stupid fucking fanboy!" He only grows more frantic at Taeyong's indifferent accusation.

"So you did take the photos." He says with a look of disgruntled inquisition. YangYang panics, rushing closer to Taeyong, whose eyes follow him at every step. He raises his eyebrows, awaiting an answer. An answer that was already apparent by the time it took to be issued.

"You have to understand. I'm losing thousands of followers, I'm getting death threats, I've lost a shit-ton of sponsors, and streamers have come out to publicly denounce actions that haven’t been proven! Including that fucking snake, Mark." Each attempt of his to redirect his worry into anger fails once he notices Taeyong is still staring stonily. He's quiet for so long that everyone in the room feels like they're being held hostage. Taeyong opens his mouth, taking a quick inhale before speaking.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Please!" YangYang falls to his knees, clasping his hands together.

All Johnny could think about was all the good times he and YangYang had through the years. Comparing the YangYang from the past with the one he's been coexisting with for months now was near impossible. He seemed like a cool dude. Johnny would go as far as to call him a genuinely kind person.

How could his judgment have been so off? He knew he was up to no good, but this? This was too far, this was too much... There was no way it was in front of my eyes this whole time.

It was a throwaway thought to try and ease some of his bewilderment, but as soon as he put an ounce of thought into it, the proof kept coming.

The way he continuously belittled your emotions. His amusement at your misfortune. How eager he was to take advantage of you when he knew you were in a vulnerable state, twice.

But how was Johnny supposed to know that would amount to this? He’d never seen him treat anyone else that way. Maybe Lucas and Doyoung, but not YangYang. No, Johnny never saw this coming.

“Well, we got her ready for you.”

Nausea rumbled in his stomach, threatening to send him kneeling over a trash can again.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes." Taeyong stands from his dining room table. "I've been doing some damage control, I think I have things under control. One of my contacts was able to get in touch with an executive at Twitch. Bans have been lifted."

Lucas, Doyoung, and most importantly YangYang let out a sigh of relief. YangYang collapses to his hands and knees. "Thank you Taeyong! Thank you so much!" He sits up and rushes to open Twitch on his phone. Johnny looks around, the other two are on their phones as well. So that's it? The situation's over?

Naeun's voice early that morning kept ringing in his ears.

Suddenly YangYang's face falls. "How long is it going to take to lift the ban? It says I'm still banned for 30 days-"

The loud slam of Taeyong's laptop makes everyone in the room flinch. Even Nayeon looks pensive. He lets the silence linger as he throws his glasses on the table before glaring at YangYang.

"Don't you get it? You fucked up bad. There's no fixing it. When I said bans have been lifted, I didn't mean for any of you raging dickheads." Taeyong's voice booms, hitting every corner of the room. "Now I have to, essentially, rebuild this group from scratch."

"B-babe! I just want you to know that Johnny had nothing to do with this, okay? One less person to replace!" Nayeon rubs each of Taeyong's arms in an attempt to soothe him. He sighs, pinching his nose bridge.

"Doesn't matter. Johnny's reputation is salvageable. The only evidence against him is him talking to Naeun at the party. Everyone knew they were friends, so that can be explained away. These three?" Taeyong starts, gesturing at the three in question.

"My sources are estimating at least one hundred women with first-person accounts of being propositioned by you absolute idiots. You're about to be investigated for a crime. You're done." He stresses.

"Wait- what about her!" Doyoung frantically points to Nayeon. "She was in on it too! At least with ___!"

"She wasn't stupid enough to get caught. I don't care about what you do. Just how you do it. This was messy from the beginning, all it takes is common sense to know that starting a group chat was moronic. At least share them with each other. And for pictures of naked girls? You can find those for free!" Taeyong stresses, stunned and in disbelief.

"They make money off their bodies, why can't we?" Lucas finally speaks up after stewing in anger. He clenches his jaw, challenging Taeyong with his glare.

"Is that what's happening? What are you, an incel vigilante? And on top of all this, you did it for some extra pocket change?" Taeyong shows no interest in his challenge, instead looking at him like he's pathetic.

"We've made at least a hundred thousand total for access to the server. It's more than what you've ever done for us. And look how quickly you're turning your back on us! You'd be nothing without us!" Lucas shouts.

"Let me make sure I'm getting this right. I've barely done anything for you and-- in fact-- I'd be nothing without you? That's what this is?" Taeyong smiles menacingly. Everyone can feel how foreboding his words are, except for Lucas it seems.

"Yes! You practically begged us to join your streaming group! You promised to link us with sponsors and big streamers and then you just stopped!"

"Lucas shut the fuck up you're not helping." YangYang whispers angrily, pulling Lucas by his shirt. Lucas tugs his hand away, his anger and glare still directed at Taeyong.

"No! And the fact that you guys are still sitting here and taking this shit is downright embarrassing. Have a little self-respect." He fumed, looking around the room at his friend group and continuing to ignore the warning in their eyes.

"Poor, stupid Lucas. Always needing someone else to do all the work. It was hard, wasn't it?" Taeyong flashes Lucas a pout before his face grows rigid. "I can always show you what hard is really like. Do you want to see me at my most unhelpful? How about I make that happen for you." He spits with a scowl.

The threat clearly got to Lucas if his face was anything to go by. "W-whatever. I'm out of here. You guys can stay here and be his little lap dogs if you want." Taeyong puts his head down, letting the tall man pass. Once the door slams he speaks again.

"One thing's for sure, you guys were all quick to take control after I gave you a boost. That guy was doomed to fail." Taeyong straightens his tie before properly regarding the two of the stooges that were left. 

"If somehow the two of you make it out of this alive, I have no doubt you'll be just fine. However, I can't help you anymore." He presents them each with a tight smile and firm handshake. "Now get out of my house."

The two of them leave with one last apology and their tails between their legs.

"You were right to kick them out, babe. I could tell they were no good-"

"You know, one of the first things that impressed me about you was your intelligence. You pretend to be ditzy, but you know how to play your cards right. So it's baffling to me that you got yourself caught up in this." Taeyong doesn't turn to face her, he just stares out the large bay window illuminating his pristine living room.

"I'm sorry, it's just- she kept trying to make a move on you! Even you complained about it!"

"Exactly! I'm the one who has to deal with this bullshit! I've had to deal with it since high school!" He swings around to look at her, the anger he's held on a short leash getting closer to breaking free. "I've had to stomach her for years! I think you could deal with a little jealousy." He drives his finger into his own chest before pointing sharply at her.

His words shocked both Nayeon and Johnny, but for entirely different reasons. Nayeon nods, a blank stare all she could manage after being chewed out.

"Oh and darling, do yourself a favor and pretend to be the most outspoken activist you can possibly be for at least a year. I don't need to remind you what female viewers call you, right?"

"No. And will do." Nayeon mumbles and tries to smile, but it looks closer to a grimace.

"Good." Taeyong breaths. "Now we have to worry about convincing Mark and ___ to come back. She's the big one. Once she comes back it'll look like those three were the reason she left. Johnny, I'm counting on you for that."

Johnny feels like he hasn't been truly present since YangYang confirmed his involvement. All he could focus on was how much harm had been done.

"If you can't do it, I could probably convince her pretty easily-"

"No." Johnny says, looking as if he's just come to an earth-shattering realization. After everything that's been done, now he wants to drag you back here to make you suffer again. "Taeyong… she told us flat out she was miserable here."

Taeyong exhales amusedly, looking at Johnny like he just doesn't get it. 

"If that's what the two of you choose to believe, have it your way. At the end of the day, there's a reason we all ended up together. She's the one that invited me to be friends with the two of you. You invited YangYang. Doyoung and Lucas came on their own but you two welcomed them in with open arms. Nayeon is the only person the two of you didn't approve of. So don't stand there and act like these horrible people were forced onto both of you."

It felt like deja vu, the way Johnny felt himself getting more hysterical with each word Taeyong said. "I didn't know they were capable of this!"

"So you're drawing the line now?"

Johnny was ready to argue, get years worth of pent up anger for this man off his chest. Yet, with just six words, all that fighting spirit was ripped from his body. Seeming content with Johnny's silence, he continues.

"Deep down you knew who you associated yourself with. Besides, you're not so innocent yourself." Taeyong reaches for Nayeon's arm, watching with pity as Johnny grapples with his guilty conscious being pulled to the forefront. "Leave whenever you're done sulking."

-

"EVEN IN HER ABSENCE, EUNPRIL'S SUBSCRIBER AND FOLLOWER COUNTS SKYROCKET"

"VIDEOS SHOWCASING TWITCH STREAMER EUNPRIL'S NUDE PHOTOS SPREAD ON ADULT SITES"

"POPULAR STREAMER EUNPRIL'S PARENTS BEG INTERNET USERS TO STOP SPREADING HER EXPLICIT PHOTOS"

Attached to each and every new article is a blurred picture of Naeun's body. People are posting the photos on Twitter as a joke. Miles away from each other, both you and Johnny torture yourselves. Your eyes were straining from staring at your phones all day. You both could barely sleep, not with the potent feeling of remorse churning in your stomachs. The only difference is that Johnny was alone.

"Why are you torturing yourself, babe?" Jungwoo reaches over and covers your phone screen. You shut your eyes and sigh. By now they were uncomfortably dry. You lock and drop your phone on your nightstand. Jungwoo waits for you to respond but you don't say anything. "Beating yourself up isn't gonna solve anything, okay?"

"She still hasn't said anything.” You respond weakly as you stare at nothing in particular. “Radio silent."

\\ | //

Johnny: remember when we were talking about our school experiences?

Johnny: you told me you’d rather cut off a limb than go back to high school

Johnny: I thought about that a lot after you said it. I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t, unless you peaked back then

Johnny: I guess I felt validated by that a tiny bit. I know it’s hyperbole and you probably wouldn’t actually do that

Johnny: but I don’t think that’s such an absurd sentiment

No answer. Not even a flash of a typing animation.

Johnny: I just found out they were charging people for entry into the group chat

Johnny: it makes me sick to my stomach

Johnny: I can’t

Johnny: I can’t process this at all

The screen is filled top to bottom with his unanswered messages. The longer he stares, the more he’s faced with the possibility of her ignoring him.

\\ | //

"She's probably just waiting for everything to die down. That's normal for situations like this. I'm sure she's okay."

Not even a short tweet giving her fans notice that she's taking a break. No Instagram story with an immediate reaction. Nothing. "If I come out against YangYang..." You start, making Jungwoo shift forward from behind you on the bed. "Won't it just make everything more complicated? I don't have proof, so what will I contribute, really?"

Jungwoo lets the silence after you speak linger as he figures out an appropriate response. His mouth hangs open, really giving his words thought to avoid overwhelming you further, lest you stay bedridden.

"I'm gonna be honest. I haven't known you for a huge amount of time, but this doesn't sound like you talking." Jungwoo says, resting a warm hand on your side. When you don't answer he sighs, sitting up on his knees. "When I first met you, you had some problems with self-esteem. You'd claim that the things you said were stupid and agree with insults directed at you. But you still didn't let anything get in between you and the things you believed in. The woman I met freshman year did whatever she could to stick up for people who couldn't stick up for themselves. She didn't let anyone pressure her out of it, either."

There were so many moments during your school years when you begged, hoped, and prayed for things to change. That you'd wake up, get on the bus with Johnny, and not be afraid to enter the building. But time after time, you were shown how truly powerless you were.

Seeing other people in similar situations like that felt like you were watching yourself. Or worse. It felt like you were witnessing Johnny in pain all over again. You wish you could say your passion ceased once you came to terms with your past and that you stopped caring about Johnny.

Putting things into perspective, your decline of passion coincided with the berating starting to get to you. The more the boys belittled you, the less confident you were in your actions. It wasn’t long until you started questioning everything you’ve done, or if you’re actually helping the people around you. Did you actually ever help Johnny?

\\ | //

Johnny: if you’re seeing this, please just give me a sign

Johnny: anything

Johnny: you don’t even have to answer, just let me know you’re there

There was no one there to soothe Johnny’s thoughts. If he were in school again, you’d be there to pet his head and tell him not to worry about Taeyong. But you weren’t there. So Johnny continued to recollect every nasty action he ignored or even encouraged.

Johnny: you deserve justice for what happened to you

Johnny: people are on your side, if you came out and confirmed that you slept with YangYang that night and he asked for a picture, that’ll be the end for them

He drops his hand by his side, finally looking up from the screen after what seemed like hours. He sank his head into the plasticky pillows of his hotel room, looking up at the ceiling. The material crinkles right next to his ears, but its impact fails to penetrate his overworked brain.

I didn’t know.

What could I have done?

It wasn’t me.

Every attempt was a shot in the dark. Why wasn't this feeling fading, would it ever fade? Would he feel like this forever? The thought of that sends Johnny spiraling, desperate for a temporary buffer for this suffocating feeling. There was one place he would go that always helped him when he was alone. Imagining he was in a familiar pair of arms with your voice playing into his ears like a soft melody.

“Johnny, why are you crying? Please don’t cry. We’ll be okay, everything will be okay.”

Johnny takes a deep breath and holds it, letting his mind drift away for at least one moment. 

Everything will be okay.

He brushes away a tear with his thumb before lifting his phone back up. Upon catching a glimpse of the typing indicator, Johnny sits up straight. His thumbs are frantic as they type.

Johnny: hi!

Johnny: I’m so glad to see you’re here

Johnny: I’ve been so worried, you haven’t been updating any of your socials

Being faced with Naeun’s silence once again, the guilt spreads further than can be ignored. There's only so much he can do with your memory before the guilt from that tears away at him as well. Tears stream down his face as he stares at his texts.

Johnny: please, do anything but ignore me

Johnny: yell at me, tell me I’m a piece of shit

Johnny: I’m dying here

Through his tears, he is forced to face the facts. She doesn’t want to talk to him. Not even to chide him. What if this is it? If she quits? Never speaks to him again? Never shows her face publicly?

With the suffocation at full force by now, Johnny succumbs to it, collapsing into the bed.

Johnny: I’m so sorry

\\ | //

“You’re not speaking again,” Jungwoo says defeatedly. You let in a fractured inhale, softly shutting your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. With a slow exhale, you let them open again.

“I’m sorry. Where were we?” You turn around in your bed to face Jungwoo before leaning in for a kiss. It’s short and tender, efficient in its job of distracting you.

“We were talking about Naeun.” Jungwoo says in a low voice, wariness evident in the raise of his brows. Your grin stretches wide as you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him closer. “No, before that.”

“We were cuddling if I recall correctly.” He tilts his head to the side and peers down at you with narrowed eyes.

“I recall neck kisses. Why did you stop?” You expose your neck invitingly, raking your fingernails up his sides and causing him to shiver. He quirks his jaw, privy to what you’re pulling. Still, he swiftly shifts the two of you so that you’re on your back and he’s hovering over you. You gasp when he grabs your legs and pulls your crotch level with his. When he grinds down you inhale sharply.

“Don’t think you’re getting away scot-free.” Jungwoo grunts, the way his hips rock into you is rough, but how hard his cock is already shows how much he’s craving you as well.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk of course. You owe me this anyway.” You purr the last part before wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him harder against you. He coos, pouting as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“You must’ve been so needy without me here.” He tugs your shorts down, stretching the drawstring hem over your hips. He slips them off one leg, lifting the other higher to finally free them. He turns his head to plant a wet kiss on your calf. You hum, making quick work of your underwear before pulling Jungwoo back down by his shirt. With your left hand, you rummage through your nightstand before coming across a condom. He shoves his own underwear down, just enough to free his dick. After grabbing the condom from your hand, he rolls it on before brushing his tip against your clit. You shudder at the feeling.

Being filled with a comforting fire, you pull Jungwoo in for a hungry kiss, wasting no time licking inside his mouth. He eagerly kisses back, the force of his actions pushing your body flush against your bed. You moan inside his mouth as he pushes past your lips and enters your wet and swollen hole. You pull back to look at him with pleading eyes, attempting to communicate how painfully in need of this you were. He answers by capturing your lips again and thrusting you into the bed.

You yelp, Jungwoo was just a little too long for his own good. Each thrust brings his hips slamming against yours and you bite your lip. “T-too much.” you squeeze out.

“Hm, thought you wanted my cock?” He chuckles, shallowing his thrusts before leaning next to your ear. “Can’t handle all of it?” He snakes a hand up your chest and wraps it around your throat. You whimper as tears well up in your eyes. Your thighs clench around his hips subconsciously. Jungwoo huffs.

“Sending me mixed signals, darling.” He uses his grip on your throat to hold you against the bed as he leans away. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as his dark eyes gaze into yours. “Is it too much or do you want me to really give it to you?” He quirks his brow as he watches you struggle. Jungwoo only fucks you like this when one of you wants to blow off steam or when he really needs to fuck. Right now it must be somewhat both since you know he can tell this whole situation is bothering you.

For the past week, you’ve been buzzing with a complicated emotion. You’ve barely had a moment to rest, physically and mentally. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you completely relaxed. There has always been at least one pressing issue weighing on you since middle school.

You’ve always been wary about, well, a lot of things. Scared of getting hurt. But thinking logically, what would actually happen? You won’t die, that’s for sure. Why shouldn’t you indulge in the things you really want to do?

“I wanna do it.” You grunt, pulling Jungwoo’s hand from around your neck. “I’m joining the Dreamies.”

“Wait, what?” Jungwoo’s entire aura changes as he’s filled with confusion.

“I’m just so sick of being worried about the things I want. I want a thriving career. I want to exist in a non-toxic environment. I want trustworthy friends who treat me well!” You ramble at the confused man above you.

“Okay, that’s great! What about what we were-” You cut him off by tugging him closer by his collar.

“I want you to fuck me hard and deep.” You hiss.

“You’re okay? I know I was trying to be sexy earlier but I actually wanna know if you can take it-”

“Just fuck me Jungwoo.” You say exasperatedly. He chuckles before flipping you over and hiking your hips higher.

“That can be arranged.” He grunts as he carefully inserts himself back into you. “Any updates on opening up about the Naeun thing…” He trails off, expecting you to cut him off.

“We were finishing what we started first, remember?”

\\ | //

The sudden noise of his phone ringing makes Johnny flinch. He sniffles, wiping away his tears before getting a better look at the name. He answers and slowly lifts the phone to his ear.

“Jaehyun? It’s been so long man!” Johnny says before clearing his throat, scrambling to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Indeed it has! I just heard about all this stuff and wanted to check up on you.” Jaehyun sounds just as sprightly as Johnny remembers. Johnny chuckles awkwardly.

“Y-yeah, it’s been a really… revealing situation.”

“I bet. As soon as I heard about it and heard about the accusations against you I thought, “no, couldn’t be Johnny”. I knew you’d never do something so despicable, that’s what I told Dejun.”

Is this why Dejun hasn’t been accusing Johnny? He’s been following him closely, waiting for his name to come up, but Dejun has yet to say anything regarding him. It was something Johnny started to think was inevitable. Any moment now, Dejun would end Johnny’s career for good. But he didn’t. And the hate has been ever so slightly clearing up. Which should make him feel better.

After Johnny doesn’t respond, Jaehyun continues. “Anyway, I also wanted to see if you were down to hang out like old times, maybe even stream together like we did at the very beginning. Without our old shitty webcams, of course.” Jaehyun says, jokingly assuring Johnny.

Johnny forces a short laugh. “Right, of course. Just like old times. I’d be happy to hang out with you again.”

“Cool. Ooh! Speaking of old times! How’s ___ doing? Think she could meet up too?”

\\ | //

“Ah- fuck!” You curl your fingers into your sheets as his cock barrels deeper than you thought possible. At first it was uncomfortable, then something primal unleashed within you the more his tip smashed against your cervix. “So fucking good-” You keen, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“I can feel you clenching. Gonna cum around my dick? Hm?” He reaches for your head and tugs at your hair. You moan embarrassingly loud, never answering him in favor of babbling nonsense. “Don’t go dumb on me now.”

He doesn’t help when he pounds into you harder than before, focusing less on speed and more on the power of his thrusts. You can feel him in your stomach, rearranging your guts like you’ve heard people raving about. It truly is all it’s cracked up to be.

“Make me cum please I want it so bad!” You mumble through sobs, feeling the intense pressure build up in your stomach. When he pushes your head into the bed your moans increase in pitch. Each thrust makes your legs quiver with more fervor. With an especially hard thrust, Jungwoo sends his tip so deep you can feel it in your toes. A sharp shriek flies from your throat as your hips fly backward and push flush against his. You jerk against him as your walls squeeze around his cock, gushing cum until it drips down your thighs.

“That’s it. Cum all over me.” He breathes, continuing to push your head into the pillows. You whimper as you come down from your high, feeling overcome with exhaustion. You plop down, collapsing into the covers. “Ah ah, I’m not down with that cunt of yours.” He plops down with you, hips finding yours again while his dick easily slips back in. You wince, but you love the feeling of his warmth as he ruts against you. Your phone rings and you smirk as you slap your hand against it.

“Be good.” You look back and mutter before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey! It’s Jaehyun! Remember me?”

You gasp, hoisting yourself up on your elbows. “Jaehyun?! Oh my god, it’s been so long! Of course I remember you.” You say incredulously, trying not to laugh at Jungwoo’s careful thrusts.

“Just checking, just checking. Seems like so much has changed. What’s this I’m hearing about you and Johnny not being in touch?”

Your smile falls, you maneuver your phone into your shoulder. “Yeah, things happen I guess.”

“Things happen?! You guys were the definition of inseparable! And friends since middle school? That’s a bond that’s hard to come by.”

You couldn’t blame him for being shocked. He wasn’t there to witness the transition. Seeing the two of you as high school seniors versus now is like witnessing two completely different sets of people.

“You know what I always told you, right?” Jaehyun says, and you could see the leery look on his face. He really hasn’t changed.

“I remember. You told us our friendship was too special to throw away.” You repeat, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as you feel.

“I meant that then and I mean it now. The two of you just felt like you really got each other. More than that, you really helped each other.”

“Yeah.” You say louder than you meant to, desperately wanting to change the subject.

“Now that I know you guys are going through all this without each other, I definitely need to come. I’d hate to see you guys struggling.”

Again, the sincerity is really hard for you to ignore.

“It means a lot Jaehyun, and I really want to see you, but I think Johnny and I are a lost cause.” You explain earnestly.

“No way. I just can’t believe that, I’m seriously floored right now. Did you guys kiss or something? Because everyone was banking on you guys getting together.”

“No! Oh my god- it was nothing like that!” You start to blush at his words, and not at the fact that Jungwoo was cumming into his condom behind you. “Me and Johnny? No!”

“Why are you guys talking about Johnny?” You ignore Jungwoo who’s throwing away his used condom.

“Whatever happened, we can talk about it when I’m in your city. We’re gonna see each other at TwitchCon anyway, but I’d like to hang out with you guys before then.”

“Oh yeah definitely. I’m just not so sure about hanging out all together.” You report joylessly.

“For sure, I understand. I’ll make an effort to swing by your place whenever you’re free or go meet up somewhere else, just let me know.”

“Will do, I can’t wait to see you again.” Your previous excitement was completely wiped clean despite your efforts.

“Talk to you soon!”

“See ya, Jaehyun.”

You end the call and place your phone on your nightstand. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard someone say that. Everyone had teased you two about dating or liking each other. You thought it was just that, teasing. Especially since watching Johnny vehemently insist you weren’t dating seemed amusing to them. Never did you think it was serious.

“I ask again, why were you talking about the dickhead?” A puzzled Jungwoo asks as he puts his clothes on.

“I was talking to an old friend. He didn’t know about everything that happened.”

Jungwoo hisses knowingly. “That must be so awkward for both of you.”

“I-it’s like very awkward.” You shake his words about you and him dating out of your mind.

“I’m gonna jet, but I’ll text you later.” Jungwoo says as he pockets his phone. You sigh and roll your eyes.

“This simply won’t do. I need someone to fuck that doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Good luck finding someone who’ll make you scream like I just did.” Jungwoo says before your door clicks closed.

When he leaves, you’re able to fully reminisce about your times with Jaehyun before he moved away. Johnny solidified your love for gaming, but Jaehyun ignited your love for streaming. It was extremely fun, and even more sad when he left.

They were good times, but they were in the past.

taglist; @baehaechannie @maximumdreamchild @safariria

[littlefirefly42]

Love, Maxie

Pairing: Elmax (El x Max)

Summary: When Max's letters stop coming, El realizes she's lost the only person she's ever truly loved

Warnings: Mental Breakdown; Self harm; Su!cide (not graphic); vomiting (not ED related); Hurt no comfort

A/N: I am aware of the irony of finishing a 2000+ word oneshot for myself in less than a week and still not having finished some of y'all's requests. I'm sorry. My only excuse is that I was sad and I needed an outlet. I hope that you enjoy this while you wait I suppose.

~~~

Seven months. That’s how long it had been since Jane Hopper had seen her girlfriend. Trapped in California with not a fraction of a chance that Joyce would let her go back to visit Hawkins, she had been extremely excited when Max had visited the previous June. They had splurged on comics and ice cream, cuddling in El’s bed and reading together. Late at night, they had snuck out the window and onto the roof (with the assistance of El’s powers in Max’s case), and they stared up at the moon and the stars. A strawberry moon, Max had commented once, and El loved her more than she’s ever loved anyone. Now El was sitting alone on the roof, in the same spot, rereading the last letter Max had sent. The date at the top said September 13th, but El had gotten it on November 6th, nearly two months later. 

El,

Hey! I miss you so much! I’m glad you’ve been doing well. How did you do on that summer experience essay? I’m sure it was amazing, the draft you sent me was really good. I’m still not in school, but I’m going back in a few days. I’m not really that nervous, but I miss you so much, and I don’t exactly have a crowd of people lined up to be friends with me. Well, I have Lucas. He’s mostly over the breakup and we’ve hung out a few times this summer, so I think we’re cool now. Mike still hates me though, and Dustin just pretends I don’t exist. Steve makes them all play nice because he’s basically my mom at this point, but to be honest I don’t really hang out with any of them very often anymore. Speaking of moms, I think I might tell mine about us, if it’s okay with you. She didn’t seem too shocked when she saw Steve and Eddie together, so maybe she’d be cool? I’m starting to lose sight in my left eye again, so I’ll have another surgery in a few weeks, but apparently it’s a pretty easy one and I’ll just be in and out. Maybe I’ll tell her right before I go under and see what she says after. Also, I’ve been learning how to do wheelies in my wheelchair, I can’t wait to show you the next time I visit. Write back when you can, and tell Joyce and your brothers I said hi!

Love, Maxie

Maxie. It was the nickname El gave Max after they started dating. Less formal than Maxine, more personal than Max, more affectionate than Mad Max. Seeing it scribbled on the worn paper in her girlfriend’s scrawly, messy, beautiful handwriting made El want to sob. She hadn’t heard from Max since she received this letter. She had written back, some giddy lovesick shit about how excited she was and how much she missed her girlfriend, but there was never a reply. She thought it may have gotten lost in the mail, but three letters and two months later it finally sank in: Max wasn’t writing back. Max wasn’t coming to visit. Max didn’t care.

It was a thought El had been stewing in for the past week and a half, and it was breaking her ribs one by one. Sure, she had missed Max before then. There were nights even before the letters stopped coming that she had felt so incredibly lonely without her fiery, sharp-witted girlfriend that she cried for hours and could still taste the sorrow in the back of her throat the next morning. After November 6th, she felt a twinge of loneliness and disappointment whenever she would sort through the mail and hand Will his letter from Mike. She felt hollow waiting like that. 

But none of it compared to how she felt now, days after she realized that Max wasn’t busy, and her letter had not been lost in the mail. El just wasn’t worth her time anymore.

That hurt. So goddamn much. The setting sun was clouded over, fracturing and distributing the soft light over the horizon, and a few heavy rain drops fell onto the roof. El refolded the letter along its worn, taped creases. She crawled to the edge of the roof and slipped down into her bedroom window, being careful not to land too loudly. She placed the letter along with the others she had from Max.

“Kids! Dinner!” Joyce yelled from downstairs. Good timing too, because El didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts anymore. But as she was opening her door, something stopped her. 

“Coming mom!” Jonathan yelled back. El closed her door and locked it. She didn’t know why, but she felt different. Detached. Her hands shook as she walked back to her desk and picked up the letter.

It made a beautifully violent sound as she tore it. El’s heart pounded, and she grabbed another letter, tearing that one too. Adrenaline seized the girl, grabbing letter after letter and ripping them apart. It was raining harder now, but she didn’t close her window. She couldn’t care less about anything anymore. 

“El, come down here!” She heard Joyce call, but the voice hardly registered. She kept tearing apart letters, and when she finished she went to her book shelf and pulled out all her comic books, throwing them on the floor. Several additions of Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Elektra, and dozens more that Max had introduced her too. El fell to the ground and tore those up too, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. There was a knock at her door, but she was beyond too far gone to hear it. There was nothing outside this room. Nothing but her and the essence of Max in everything.

Max, huddled in the sheets that El threw off her bed.

Max, commenting on the movie and band posters El tore down.

Max, smirking at the flannel that, when El failed to rip with her bare hands, used her powers.

Max, braiding the soft brown hair that El weeded out from its roots.

Max, tracing the veins on the pale wrist that El scratched until it was red and raw, as if she could scrape away the feeling of being loved by someone and then suddenly and inexplicably being abandoned. 

Max, who abandoned her.

Things were breaking themselves now, shelves collapsing and lamps shattering, a reflection of the carnage in El’s mind. Someone was pounding on the door. Someone else was yelling. But El was unreachable, buried beneath layers of anger and betrayal, everything else was muffled and far away.

Thunder growled lowly outside the open window, and El found herself crawling beneath it. The cold water puddled on the floor shocked her nerves and unearthed a sorrow beneath the fury that El had been ignoring for a long time. She held herself, fingernails digging into her biceps, rain showering down on her, and drowned in the agony that was losing the one person you trusted to never leave. She may have screamed, but she didn’t hear herself. When Jonathan broke the door down with a crowbar, she didn’t flinch.

~~~

The next day, El still refused to speak. Still refused to talk about what happened, despite the best efforts of her family. Joyce had insisted she stay home from school, so she sat at the dining room table and stared through her lunch. Who knew pb&j could be so goddamn patronizing.

 She heard the motor of a truck pulling into the driveway, but she didn’t pay it any mind until Joyce shouted something from her office. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from one dimly lit room down the hallway to another, leaning silently on the doorway of Joyce’s office.

Joyce was holding a phone with one hand and scribbling aggressively in a notepad with the other, but she shifted the phone to her shoulder when she saw El.

“Honey, would you get the mail please?” She stage-whispered. “I’m waiting on a package and I think it just got delivered.”

El nodded. When she opened the front door there was nothing on the doormat, so she walked down the driveway to the mailbox. It was a cloudless day, and the blinding sun after the previous night’s storm made the air muggy and humid. There were several letters in the mailbox, as well as a newspaper and a folded yellow paper package. She pulled everything out and brought it back inside, tossing the letters and paper carelessly onto the kitchen counter and taking the package to Joyce. 

“Thanks El.” She said, then added “No bills or anything?”

El responded with a simple shrug and walked away before Joyce could add anything more to the skeleton of a conversation. When she returned to the kitchen she began sifting through the letters for anything important, needing something to occupy herself with, to save her from her thoughts. She found nothing notable, two bills, a check, some ads, and- El paused. A stuffed brown envelope from Hawkins, Indiana. At first she dismissed it, with a twinge of heartache, as another letter for Will; But the return address caught her eye. It was Max’s. Suddenly, the walls of the house felt very claustrophobic. El’s heartbeat quickened and dread rooted itself deep in her chest as she slid to the ground. Slowly, with sweaty, shaking hands, she tore the seal and pulled out the first of three papers. It was written on flowery stationary, a cruel beauty to accent the pure repulsiveness of its content.

Dear Ms. Byers,

I hope you and your family are doing well. I heard that Jonathon got his acceptance letter, send him my congrats. I am writing to share some rather distressing information with you. You must excuse the tardiness of this letter, I have been grieving and could not bring myself to write it. However, I feel that it is my moral duty, and my duty as a mother, to inform you that your daughter, Jane, is a homosexual.

El felt her chest tighten. Joyce had known about her and Max for months and didn’t seem to have an issue with the relationship, but from the tone of the letter it was obvious Ms. Mayfield didn’t feel the same. She took a deep breath, letting the fact sink in, before continuing to read.

I’m ashamed to admit that I have known for quite awhile, and only now have I had the strength to tell you. You may remember my daughter, Maxine, who came to visit you in the summer. Maxine was sick as well, and I recommend you immediately seek therapy for Jane. The two were involved in a romantic relationship, the likes of which drove my daughter to suicide several months ago.

Something stopped inside of El. She reread the last sentence three more times, looked away, blinked, and then read it again. But no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was hallucinating, the word was still there and glaring. Suicide.

I know this kind of thing is hard to hear, and you may want to deny it, but from one mother to another I think the best thing for Jane is to accept it and get her professional help. I have photocopied Max’s suicide note and enclosed it with this letter, so that you may understand the severity of the situation. Please address it immediately, before we lose another child.

My best regards to you,

Susan Mayfield

El finished reading the letter and tossed it aside numbly. She pulled out the second paper, an obituary with a picture of a grinning little kid in a yellow bathing suit, missing most of her teeth, ginger hair tangled and wet. El didn’t even bother reading it. She dropped it onto the letter from Max’s mom and pulled out the last paper. It was a slightly crooked photocopy of a lined piece of paper.

El,

I am so sorry. I know my mother will read this first, but I couldn’t care less. You should know I lied to you in my letters. I don’t speak or eat a lot anymore and I don’t leave my room most days. I miss you so much. I don’t have anyone anymore, and all the time I’m just alone with my shitty mind. After you left Hawkins the first time I thought I would be okay, and I was for a while. At least, I was better than I am now. Then you came back and I didn’t even care that the world was ending because I was with you again. And that day in the hospital, when you told me you loved me, I think it was the best moment of my life. I was so ready to give up El, but being with you saved me. When you went back to Cali I didn’t feel that same emptiness as the first time. I missed you so goddamn much, but with the letters and the visit in the summer I felt like I always had something to look forward to, and that something was always you. Nothing else, no one else. Just you. And then it all went to shit again. The guys stuck around a little after everything went down, but eventually they all kind of stopped talking to me. Steve still drives me places and scolds me for not taking my meds and all that, but we’re not really friends you know? Plus, I used to just get ignored at school, but the wheelchair has been an asshole magnet and it’s getting a little intolerable. Anyway, it doesn’t matter really. The point is I just kept feeling worse all the time. And I love you, and for a while that was enough, but eventually it just hurt more, feeling like a shell of myself until the next time I heard from you. I told my mom about us like I said I would, and she broke down and said I needed help and I couldn’t keep writing to you. She’s trying to get me sent to some clinic now, and I just can’t do it anymore. Without you, I’ve got no one. So I’m sorry, really really sorry, that I couldn’t be strong enough for you, because you sure as hell were for me and now I’m leaving you but if there’s a god he knows I don’t have a choice. I love you El, I hope you live the best goddamn life.

Love, Maxie

El’s hands shook as she placed the photocopy gently on top of the other papers. Her heart kept pounding faster and faster, and it made her chest ache. Everything was too large and too close, and yet there was a strange numbness to the overwhelming feeling, like a fight-or-flight response, a reflex. Her body was acting on its own, and her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. She lifted herself from the ground, heart still pounding, and made her way dizzily up to her room, leaving the two letters and her girlfriend’s obituary on the kitchen floor. El's room was in the same chaotic disarray it was the previous night, and still she looked around and saw nothing but Max. Everything she had destroyed in her blind rage was Max. And Max was dead. And everything was gone. And El fell down to her knees and threw up, then cried on the hardwood floor for a long time.

[quadballz]

𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓; arc I

I. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥

next: ࿔*:･ﾟi. | table of contents

A RAGGED OLD notebook was clenched tightly in her arms as she and Yasuho hid behind a wall of dirt, both almost out of breath. "I...didn't even get to...show you what...I found," heaved (y/n) through heavy breaths, peering over the wall to make sure they had really lost Joshu. There was no sight of him so far, but that meant nothing. Joshu was an obsessed idiot that only affirmed her family motto— "Never trust a 'Jojo' as they are nothing but bad luck"— and in hindsight, she really should have listened.

But all that she was focused on now was making sure the guy didn't come anywhere close to Yasuho.

(y/n) looked at her friend, finding her to be much paler than she had before; "Nevermind," mumbled (y/n), pushing aside what she had been itching to tell the other girl, "are you okay? You don't look too good." Yasuho hummed lowly while holding her palm to her forehead, "...dizzy...can't stand up properly..." (y/n)'s brow furrowed and she leaned over to place a hand on Yasuho's forehead while simultaneously moving Yasuho's hand. Yasuho hummed again at the coolness of her touch, leaning into it and making (y/n)'s face flush. Her eyes looked anywhere but at the girl in front of her, only to find a man in the dirt a few meters away.

"Who the hell is that?!" she screeched, falling back onto the dirt as Yasuho jumped towards her, both girls embracing each other on instinct. "Wha-what do you want?!" shouted Yasuho, slightly out of breath as they stared for any indication of movement from him and only receiving muffled words. They looked at each other with a raised brow, Yasuho slowly inching toward the man in the dirt. (y/n) panicked internally and crept behind her, looking over the girl's shoulder with caution.

"Hey, are you alive?" she questioned as they stayed against the wall, "what the hell are you doing down there?" The shirtless man (she hadn't noticed until they had gotten closer) lifted his chin just enough for them to see his face, making (y/n)'s face burn— damn, was he good-looking. Yasuho backed away slightly and brought her out of her thoughts as he lifted a hand towards them. It wasn't until Yasuho noticed blood on his shoulder that her demeanor changed instantly from fear to worry.

"Can you hear me?! Are you seriously injured?! Are you dying?! Why are you buried in the ground?! Would you like me to call for help?!" she cried only for him not to reply as (y/n) pulled her phone out to take pictures. Yasuho's head spun to the side, looking at her in dismay as she took pictures of the man. "What?" asked (y/n) innocently as if what she was doing was normal, "I needed a pretty guy like him as reference for my manga." Yasuho rolled her eyes playfully with a soft smile.

"Kishibe (y/n), you are the craziest woman I have ever met." (y/n) gave her a grin before going back to taking more pictures as Yasuho dialed the police, "why thank you, miss!" As Yasuho made the call, (y/n) stopped her picture-taking, looking over the man's dazed face carefully, taking in every detail of his face and neck- a star. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it, reaching for the notebook she had left up by in the dirt immediately. "Someone should be here soon to help— (y/n)?" Yasuho stopped to look at her panicked friend who flipped through the pages of the notebook she had wanted to show her earlier.

"A-A star! A star birthmark! I know great-great-grandma mentioned it in here!" Yasuho turned to look at the blood and birthmark closer, finding the wound to be a bite-mark. "Bite marks? Hard to tell...perhaps he was bitten by some wild animal? But what would leave those kinds of marks behind? Definitely made by some kind of teeth... What exactly did this?" Yasuho mumbled to herself while pulling her phone out to take a picture as her best friend flipped hurriedly through the notebook's pages. (y/n) flipped one final page and took a shaky breath, but his ragged voice interrupted before she could say another word.

"Hirose...Yasuho...Is that correct? Your...name?"

The two girls stared in shock as he looked around in confusion and then looked at (y/n), "and you...you're Kishibe...(y/n)?" They could only continue staring dumbfoundedly until his head fell into the mud with gurgling sounds. Yasuho screamed and (y/n) quickly threw the book over her shoulder, vividly remembering the words it had said inside— "Always help a Joestar as they are the bravest  and noblest people you will ever meet." She didn't hesitate to grab his hand, attempt to pull him out and let Yasuho help by pulling at her waist. With a few heaves and pulls, they were finally able to pull him out.

"Great-great-grandma never mentioned Joestars were this heavy," grumbled (y/n) as Yasuho slipped out from underneath her, looking at her phone whose screen showed the birthmark as a transparent bubble. "(y-y/n)! Look, it's transparent!" (y/n) peered at the image on the screen, almost choking on her spit as she held the man in her arms; he had a stand. Then again, the notebook said her Joestar had the ability too. (y/n) turned back to the guy, scanning his...naked form. To both their surprise, they found...four.

"Wait a second- four balls?" she stammered in disbelief, tilting her head to look at the guy's face as Yasuho freaked out behind her, "...mind if I get a picture for reference?" She got no response from the man and decided that the image in her head would be more than enough for any art purposes whatsoever. Instead, she let herself look over his face; from his eyelashes back down to the star mark on his neck.

"Yasuhooo~ (y/nnnnn)~ What're ya two doing? Having fun without me?"

Both girls sighed as he looked at the three with wide eyes, not liking the way the man was laying in-between them. He huffed with an odd look on his face, reaching down to grab an alarmingly large rock. "What the fuck is going on here~ Indeed, what the fuck is going oooooon~ Go on explain yourselves if you can! I'm waiting~" he sang eerily as he stomped over slowly. "Joshu, I swear to god, don't start shit or we're going to have a problem," grumbled (y/n) as he staggered over to them.

He didn't seem to even acknowledge her warning and continued walking towards them, "p-pretty cocky thinking you can touch my Yasuho and (y/n)...piece of shit." Yasuho went wide-eyed and grabbed the other girl's arm in a panic. "He thinks we fooled around with him, (y/n)!" she screeched as (y/n) stared at the man in front of her with distaste. "One, just say sex. Two, he's pretty hot so why not let Joshu think what he wants," (y/n) stated, sneakily pulling out her stand in precaution.

Yasuho went red and moved in front of her and the naked man, making (y/n) freeze as Joshu grimaced and pushed her aside harshly. "Step aside, Yasuho!" (y/n) went cold as she watched Yasuho roll across the ground, dirt rising around her. "Yasuho—" She too was then thrown to the side before she could react, hitting the ground in the same way. Her head shot up to witness as Joshu held the rock higher above the man's head, ready to smash it down onto his head.

"Dammit, Joshu! Homogenic—"

She stopped as the man grabbed Joshu's arm and placed a fist under his neck, preventing Joshu from proceeding with his actions. Yet even still, Joshu had managed to get the upper hand just slightly enough to hit him in the back of the head, making Yasuho scream. "Here comes the finisher, asshole!" (y/n) panicked as her stand stood beside her, "fuck! what's the opposite of rock? No, earth! Uh...Air?" Before she could make her stand do anything, a bubble popped from his neck, floating over calmly towards Joshu's eyes.

"You're as good as dead, you worthless shit stain! Kill or be killed!" A sudden pop made Joshu stop in his tracks, eyes completely black. Or maybe it was that they were just gone completely. "Huh? My...eyes," stammered Joshu, turning his head back and forth wildly, "what the fuck...?! My eyes! Huh?!" (y/n) watched with her hand slapped over her mouth, letting her eyes trail over to the naked man who she believed may have been a Joestar.

She ignored the cries (and the vomiting) of Joshu, still staring at the very pretty man who had left Joshu and himself out cold on the dirt. She and Yasuho shakily stood up, looking at the aftermath of the bizarre fight. "This is yours, right?" asked the pink-haired girl, handing her the ragged notebook, "what was it that you were going to say earlier?" (y/n) crouched down beside the man, letting her fingers brush over the mark with a smile upon her lips.

"NOTHING... BUT I THINK I FOUND A JOESTAR."

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 12- Northumbria

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3545

Warnings: Mentions of blood eagle.

11- Arvid/ The Sacrifice

...

"I did not take you to be the type to get seasick." Artemis says with a smile. She hands Ivar a scrap of cloth when his head emerged from the side of the ship. He spit into the sea the remnants of the bitter sick in his mouth before glaring at her. He snatches the cloth from her hands and wipes at his mouth unbecomingly before tossing it back at her.

"I am not fond of the sea." He mutters bitterly, groaning again as his stomach began to churn unpleasantly. Ivar scooted as far back into the corner he was in, treating the space as a safe haven. 

"The sea is unpredictable, Prince, I think we all fear it." Artemis looks out into the calm Northern Sea, its waves gently rocking the ship like a babe in a cradle. Both Ivar's and Artemis's people were excellent seafarers, it must have bren engraved in their blood, but the fear of open water was still a rational one. 

There were hundreds of ships down towards the horizon, and beyond, and a nervous buzz settled in the lower pits of her stomach. It was finally happening, all this talk of vengence and war, it all felt like stories one told a child at night.

The ship beside their own had her heart feeling heavy. Arvid's blue eyes were locked with hers as he grabbed an oar to help steer the ship. His wife was not far from him, watching the waves push and pull. She was a pretty thing, with yellow hair and blue eyes, exactly what every man here wanted. Her name was Alfhild, daughter of a well off farmer in Kattegat. 

A small wedding was arranged. It was a simplistic wedding, and they were married right before they departed to England. For such simplicity, Arvid seemed to be the star of the event. His dark hair was neatly combed with intricate braids styled down the front, and he wore his very best clothes. 

Arvid was a good man, if he could treat a slave with respect, then he would no doubt treat Alfhild in the proper way.

"Does it upset you?" Ivar interrupts her thoughts, gazing at her through his lashes.

"Hmm?" Artemis turns to him, her eyes swirling with mixed emotions. She began to fiddle with her leather padded vest, hearing Ivar suck his teeth at her feigning confusion. 

"Are you upset that he is now married?" He reworded his question, lifting the hood of his cloak to shield his face, "His wife is pretty." He says as an afterthought, resting his head on his hand. The nausea was coming back.

"He deserves happiness and a suitable companion." 

"I asked you how you feel about it, Artemis." Ivar lightly scolds her, adjusting his lifeless legs. He waits for an answer as he watches his older brothers bombard the front of the ship, no doubt feeling as if they could conquer the world. Perhaps one day they will.

"It does not matter what I feel. A slave does not have that luxury." She handed over the cloth again when he suddenly lurched over the side of the boat again. Groaning, Ivar sits back properly, snatching the cloth from her.

"You are not wrong," He says in agreement after a moment, "But you are no ordinary slave. You are Ivar the Boneless's slave. You are not average. You may think yourself downtroddened, but the gods have blessed you. This is where you belong." Artemis says nothing, though her eyes said it all. 

What was that? Where did that come from? 

Ivar stares back, unmoving, his eyes solely on her. His brown hair, growing longer by the day, blew in the salty breeze, and although his cheeks were reddened by the constant vomiting, it did nothing to tarnish his pleasant features. He looked more a man by the day.

"Do not look at me like that." He says finally, breaking their gaze in favor of looking out towards the sea.

"Like what?" Her lips began to curl into a grin, and she leans back against the wooden rail with her arms crossed. 

"Like that," Ivar grumbles, waving his hand around to make a point, "With those eyes." He wrapped himself tighter in his cloak as if to hide. Artemis continued to smile, focusing her gaze on her wool trousers now that she felt a sudden shyness engulf her.

"You should tell me another story," She tells him, "Perhaps the one of Odin's eye?" Ivar hums, bringing his eyes back to hers.

"Very well, but after, you must take your turn at the oars." Artemis nods, casting one last look at Arvid before focusing all her attention on the crippled prince beside her.

"As you wish, Prince Ivar."

...

Spring was at its zenith when they finally arrived.

They landed on their sandy beaches, in a place they called Northumbria. The sun wasn't always visable as the clouds dominated the sky for most of the day, just as it does in Kattegat. It was a rainy country, with constant passing showers. The air was a bit humid and sticky, not a pleasant feeling after traveling such distance. 

The Ragnarsons made their plans, attack and kill King Alle of Northumbria, and continue into Wessex. Ivar mounted his chariot as soon as they boarded off their ships, and they made camp in a field near by before regrouping into the fierce Heathen Army that struck fear into the hearts of men all throughout Europe. 

Hundreds of tents were set up, surely appearing as a maze from high above. It was a war camp, the first that Artemis had ever seen, and it was truly an intimidating sight. It was over crowded and noisy, and if it weren't for the ships being spotted by the kings men, the wild chatter would have given them away. She sees Arvid again, setting up his makeshift home and forge, as his new bride went to gather wood.

"How fairs the marriage?" She approaches him. Having enough of his struggling, she grabs the tarp on one end as he grabs the other, stretching it over the wooden stakes that he had previously imbedded into the earth. She wasn't much help, her stature did nothing to aid him, but he looked over his shoulder at her with a beaming smile, and the glow reached his eyes.

"I've missed you." He replies sheepishly, turning to face her fully while rubbing the back of his neck, "The marriage was arranged, as you know, but Alfhild is kind." A man steering a cart arrives with all their forging instruments placed in the back. 

"I'm glad the union has been in your favor. You will grow to love each other, in time." She says, reaching for the tools that were rolled into a thick cloth. Arvid placed his larger hand atop her smaller one, grabbing her attention instantly. 

"I do not love her." His tone was the most serious she's ever heard it, his eyes boring deeply into her own. Artemis gulped, nervously shifting under is gaze.

"Arvid?" She says his name hesitantly, removing her hand from under his.

"I do not love her." He repeated with finality in his tone, letting his arm drop to his side. Alfhild approachs with an arm full of wood. She had not witnessed their encounter, and she smiles at both her husband and Artemis.

"Artemis, it is nice to finally see you after such a long journey." She says, going over to Arvid to place a kiss upon his cheek. Artemis fought to give her a smile while watching the exchange, placing her hands behind her back in her awkwardness.

"Likewise, Alfhild. Would you like some help with the wood?"

"Nonsense," She replies, "You are not ours to command. You worry about the tasks that are expected of you." And with that she heads into the empty tent.

Artemis groans, dropping her face into her hands.

"Arvid, she is much too kind. If you cannot love her, than at least try to like her." She begs through her hands, her muffled voice causing Arvid to smile.

"If I am to see you every day, then that will be a challenge, but I will try my best, if you wish it so." Artemis peeks at him through her fingers, and he could still see through the slits how piercing those eyes were.

"You promise?" 

Arvid rolls his eyes but continues to smile at her, draping his arm over her shoulder in the most friendliest of hugs he could give.

"Yes, yes, I promise." She returns the smile gratefully. 

He drops his arm from her as soon as Ivar's chariot came to an abrupt halt in front of the cart, his reckless riding causing Alfhild to come out from the tent in curiosity.

Ivar glares at Arvid, moving his blue eyes to his slave. Artemis gazes at him curiously.

"Set up the forge with only what you need before nightfall. There is work to be done before we attack tomorrow, understood?" Artemis lowers her head.

"As you wish, Prince Ivar." Ivar scoffs at her before nodding his head in aknowlegement towards Arvid and his wife.

"May the gods grant you a happy marriage." Ivar's demeanor changes suddenly as he smiles, baring his wolf-ish teeth. 

"Thank you, Ivar." Alfhild replies when her husband remained silent. Ivar grunts, slamming the reigns harshly on the mare's back, the chariot disappearing into the mess of tents. Arvid grumbles, turning to look at his wife who joined the rest of the women in creating a fire in the middle of the surrounding tents.

"He reeks of jealousy. " Arvid grunts, grabbing a crate filled with supplies. Artemis joins him, placing the cloth covered tools atop a smaller crate that would be easier for her to carry.

"I suppose you were right." She follows behind Arvid, almost crashing into him when he turns to face her with a hardness in his eyes.

"Yes, and you seem to enjoy it, do you not?" Without another glance, he makes his way into the tent, leaving Artemis to ponder his words.

And she came to the conclusion that Arvid was correct.

...

King Alle was easily defeated. His army was no match against the larger one of the heathens. 

The battle lasted no more than an hour, and Artemis waited patiently in Ivar's tent for his return. She had no doubt he would return. 

"Artemis!" She hears Ivar's familiar voice call for her, and when she exited the tent, her hands flew to her lips in shock. 

He sat in his chariot smirking, with a naked man attached to the backend of the chariot from his feet. The man was filthy from head to toe, squirming as his hands were also bounded behind his back. He had the appearance of a fish out of water, or a worm tunneling out from deep in the earth. It looked humiliating.

"I present to you the King of Northumbria." He announces proudly, looking back towards the fat man who groaned for mercy over the dirty cloth that had been tied over his mouth.

"The king?" Artemis whispers, eyes raking over his bloody form. A Christian king brought down to nothing. It was a sad sight.

"He is to be blood eagaled," Hvitserk appears with the rest of the brothers, dropping an arm over her shoulder. Something about the term did not sit well with her, but she decided to ask anyway.

"What is a blood eagle?" 

"Something you would not bare to witness." Bjorn answers, lowering himself to one knee before the king.

"You are going to die now," The Saxon words escape Bjorn's mouth easily, though Artemis didn't understand a word of it. 

The king began to cry, large droplets of tears running down his dirty cheeks. He pleaded in his language once Bjorn removed the cloth from his mouth, babbling something about gold and silver, perhaps trying to bribe them for mercy, but this king did not know who he was dealing with.

"You've never been around such things, have you?" Sigurd slowly approaches Artemis, whispering in her ear while Ivar watches the fallen king.

"No." She replies, her eyes following both Hvitserk and Ubbe as they crowded around the naked king to humiliate him further. 

"He tortured our father and threw him into a pit of snakes until he died," Sigurd says darkly, "He is to receive the highest punishment that can be given." He crosses his arms, looking down at her.

"The blood eagle is not for the faint of heart." 

Sigurd was right.

There weren't many witnesses as the rest of the army stayed behind to protect the camp. Floki was there, smiling menacingly while watching as the king was placed over a tree stump. Helga and Tanaruz stayed behind at the camp as it was no place for a child. 

"Be brave, baby bird." Ivar says to her, and she watches after him as abandoned his chariot for crawling on the moist ground, settling himself directly in front of the crying king for the best view.

And so it began.

Bjorn did not hesitate to carve into the kings back, plunging the knife deep into his skin and dragging in down. The King cried out and Artemis's heart began to race wildly, watching the blood ooze from the large wound. 

Again, Bjorn plunged the knife parallel to the wound, carving down his back easily. The thick blood covered Bjorn's hands and dripped down towards the forest floor like a river. Once she heard the ominous sound of bones cracking, and how easily Bjorn pulled out the kings lungs to rest atop his shoulders, she immediately felt the bile rise.

She felt lightheaded, turning round and falling to her knees, heaving up the contents of her stomach with eyes tightly closely. She could recognize the thick liquid seeping into the leaves and onto her fingers.

With a shaky breath she lifts her trembling hand, her palms and fingertips coated in King Alle's sticky blood. She could smell the iron instantly, lowering her head again to release the remaining food she had in her stomach.

She pants, sweat clinging her hair onto her brow, feeling her rapidly beating heart would leap out of her. She blinks the tears from her eyes before crawling away from her sick and the blood.

...

Blood.

Bones.

Lungs.

Artemis shot up quickly, her head spinning from her sudden movements. Her heart pounded in her ears and her breathing was laborious, choking on the oxygen she struggled to inhale. Pushing her hair away from her face, she takes a ragged breath, willing herself to be calm.

"Finally wake."

She whips her head at the sound of his voice, meeting the familiar eyes of her crippled master. He sat up, leaning against the wooden frame of his makeshift bed. In his hands was an elaborate golden crown, shinning jewels embedded within.

"Veikr." Ivar says to her, using that same word, though there was no hostility in his tone. Instead he chuckles, shaking his head as he brings his fingers to the pointed edges of the crown.

"I thought I told you to be brave," There was light teasing in his words, though it was apparent that he meant them, "You failed."

"Forgive me." Artemis mumbles, scouting her surrounds. Ivar's small tent was illuminated by the very few candles Artemis had arranged herself at his bedside, giving the small space a strangely cozy atmosphere.

The bed was soft, layered in the furs she had choosen specifically for him. She grips the soft hairs under her palms tightly, a rising panic surfacing as her mind raced with scenes from eariler. She sniffles, swallowing thickly when she felt her throat tightening.

"Hush." Ivar tells her, almost commands her, though somehow his voice was the most soothing it's ever been. The hot tears began to blur her vision, spilling past her lashes and down her cheeks. She felt her throat tighten as she fought to keep in her whimpers.

"Artemis," He calls out to her, and she when turns again to look at him, he raises a brow, "Stop your crying. Sit beside me." She sniffles again, her tears not masking her bewilderment. She waited for him to laugh and tell her to get out.

"You look foolish," He says instead, "I said stop your crying and sit beside me. You sound like a whimpering babe without it's mother. Come on." He beckons her with his hand, satisfied when she finally scoots back to sit up against the wooden frame as he did.

"Here," Ivar hands her the crown, watching her grasp it with trembling fingers, "It is Alle's crown." The distraction calms her for a moment, her curious eyes raking over the gold. She was holding the crown of a dead man.

"Saxon work is impressive, but I think you can do better. What do you think?" Artemis licks her dry lips, her finger leaving a print of the smooth edge of a ruby. 

"You want me to make a crown?" She says to him with watery eyes.

"Mm, perhaps," He shrugs, fiddling with the edges of the fleece blanket he was under, "I might need one in the future." She remains quiet after that, hearing the crackle of the fire and the murmuring of the men outside the tent.

"Prince Ivar?"

"Yes?"

"What happened?" Ivar chuckles, snatching the crown back and placing it under the bed before crossing his toned arms over his bare chest.

Oh. 

Had his chest been bare the entire time?

"You fainted," He smirks, "Like the little baby bird that you are." She frowns, ripping her eyes away from his glistening skin and onto her hands. 

"I've not seen such cruelty before." She says quietly, remembering the king's screams vividly.

"Cruelty?" Ivar scoffs, "He deserved his fate and more." 

"He was a Christian king." She responds.

"He was a worthless Saxon." He spits, yanking at the collar of her shirt to pull her torward him. She yelps, their eyes clashing as he brings their faces so close, the tip of their noses almost brushed.

"Who are you to pass judgement, hm? Are you a god?" Artemis hurriedly shakes her, not wanting to ignite his anger further.

"Well?" Ivar insists.

"No." She finally squeaks, and he releases his grip on her, only somewhat satisfied. He pauses, an angered breath passing his lips.

"When I first came to England with my father," He begins, "I did not know it would be the last time I would see him." He wasn't looking at her, but she could see how his eyes glossed over, his blue irises appearing red from the candle beside him.

Artemis listens intently, picking up the sadness in his tone even though he tried to hide it. She fiddles with her fingers, feeling an awkward and tense air around them.

"He surrendered to them. Do you know what he told me as his final request?" 

"No." He turns to face her again, slinking forward on his toned arms to get a good look at her.

"He told me to avenge him. To lead an army into England and enact revenge." Ivar was so close to her again, just a breath away as they stared each other down in the dying candle light.

"Alle tortured him, threw him into a pit of venomous snakes and watched him die. I'm certain you have heard the story," He spits, his lashes fluttering as he fought to control his emotions, "And you think us cruel? What do you know of having a father murdered unjustly?" 

The question sounded rhetorical, but his eyes were begging for an answer. Artemis says nothing at first, looking away from his intense gaze, pushing a lock of matted hair behind her ear. She sighs, biting her lower lip before facing him again, her features hardening.

"What do you know of being stolen away from a father?" She counters back, watching him jerk away from her as if burned. Ivar frowns, her words taking some sort of affect on him. He clenches his jaw, the rolling of the muscle poking through the skin of his angular face.

"Sleep," He commands suddenly, moving forward to push her down enough to lay back against the furs. Her confusion was evident, but he ignores it, resting against his pillows and placing an arm behind his head. 

She had her own cot in the slave tent. Which she should be in. Not with Ivar.

"Prince-"

"It is late," He cuts her off, "You are unwell. I'm trying to keep you safe like I said I would." 

"Yes, but-"

"You want to venture out in the darkness? The men will not be kind. Go on if that is what you wish." 

Well, she supposed he was right.

Ivar chuckles to himself when she curls up into herself, her hand gripping the furs. He reclines further under the blanket, turning his back to her and scooting to leave as much space between them as possible.

"Go to sleep," He grunts, "You will return to your own tent and duties come daybreak." And with that he blew out the candles beside him, and the entire tent descended into darkness.

... 

Veikr- Weak

...

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