#Limp noodle is making me laugh too much

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

--

[gardenofnoah]

eyeeeee am suffering today so here’s my beloved taking care of me

.

.

“you hurtin’?”

you sniff, pressing your forehead into his stomach. he reaches down to comb his fingers through your hair, and you wonder if he knows what effect that absentminded little action has on you. tears sting at the corners of your eyes and it’s embarrassing—you try to hum an affirmative reply but it comes out more of a whimper.

katsuki’s patient—hand smoothing over the back of your head lovingly while he waits for a real response. you take a deep breath and offer him a nonsensical, mumbled “i’m sorry.”

“what for?”

“it’s just that this happens every month and i’m sure it gets tiring to have to check up on me—“

you’re cut off by a sharp flick to your forehead. you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed, pouting a little. “ow?”

he huffs out a chuckle, threading his fingers through your hair again. “that didn’t hurt, you wuss.” he bends down to kiss the spot anyway, and stays crouched so he’s at eye level with you. “s’my job to take care of you.”

you start to protest, because it’s really not, but he just reaches out and flicks your forehead again.

“fucking—why—“

“‘cause you think too much. i didn’t ask what you thought about the emotional labor distribution in the relationship, you motherfucker” and you know he’s mocking you, but he’s stupid and it makes you laugh, which softens him a little bit. “i asked if you were hurtin’ because i know you are and i want t’help. so just shut up and let me do that.”

you blink at him, and the tears are back with a vengeance—he sees your lip wobble and tuts at you, reaching to pull you off the couch and into his lap where he sits on the ground.

“fuckin’ crybaby,” he mutters, but it’s only fond as his hands work their way under the material of your (his) t shirt to rub your back. his warmth dulls the ache, if only a little bit.

“fuck off,” you whine, but it cracks a little and it’s muffled into his shoulder and it makes him laugh. you feel it rumble beneath you and you press closer, wanting to feel it again.

“what d’ya need?”

you pause, thinking about it. “i want to bury myself in the blankets on the bed.”

“okay.”

“and i want the cat.”

“okay?”

“and i want you to pass me snacks underneath the blankets.”

“oi, you’re not eating on the—“

“you have to knock first.”

he levels you with a look, cocking an eyebrow at you. you’d be intimidated if you didn’t know it was all for show—he’d do anything you asked him to.

“and also—“

“jesus christ—”

“i want you to hold my hand.”

that gives him pause, and you’ll make fun of him later for the way you watch him fold like a limp noodle.

“under the blankets?”

“under the blankets.”

he sighs, all dramatic, and he hauls both of you off the floor with a concerningly little amount of effort. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you back to your bedroom. he sets you on the bed—gently, instead of his usual wwe style takedown—and dutifully throws the comforter over your head. you settle in, listening to him rummage around the house.

you hear him return, and you reach out to hold the comforter down so he can’t pull it up.

you hear him pause, and then sigh deeply. you hear the smile on his face.

“…knock, knock.”

you release your grip on the blanket, and he raises it only enough to shove your cat’s head through it. the little thing chirps it’s excitement to have joined you and you cackle, pulling her the rest of the way through.

you hear him pad back to the kitchen, muttering a “little fuckin’ bridge troll,” to himself. your cat settles in and katsuki returns, dropping what you assume to be your snacks onto the bed. you shoot an arm out from under the blankets and grab for them, yanking them under. you hear him snort, and then feel the bed dip under his weight as he settles in next to you.

you reach under the blanket again, feeling around blindly for his hand. he lets you tap around the bed a few times because he’s the worst, and then you feel his warm fingers intertwine with yours. you let out a pleased little hum and drag his hand under the blanket.

you press a tiny kiss to a scar over his knuckles. “love you,” you murmur, rubbing your cheek into the back of his hand. he squeezes your fingers gently.

“love you, you little freak.”

[blossom-hwa]

OMG AAHHH I saw your detailed rizz analysis post and I must say… Y’all really blew my mind cause I do see why you rated the idols as such HAHAHAHA I was specially laughing in agreement at the Soob, Hwa, and Bermuda line ones~ Vernon makes soooo much sense too HAHAHA And I guess your Yunho rizz analysis explains why I’m so head over heels attracted to the man! Oh and I agree soooo much with the Changbin one too HAHAHA I saw you mention Wonho during his analysis and I agree HAHAHA But that made me really curious for Wonho and MONSTA X rizz analysis :((( If it’s not too much of a trouble for y’all, would you mind analysing them too?? Or I guess who do you think is rizzless and the one with most rizz??

hey anon! glad you enjoyed the rizz post :) to be honest I'm not too familiar with monsta x/wonho anymore (not for any particular reason just changing interests), but I'll do a quick sentence or two with my main impressions below! hope you like it <3

original rizz analysis

shownu: positive and high magnitude though not quite infinity. kinda similar to yunho? in that they are both large and soft and have insane charisma but iirc shownu has a thinly veiled thing for being dominated (or is he the one dominating icr) that parallels yunho's thinly veiled thing for feet. hence the similarities and hence the not-positive-infinity level rizz

wonho: fluctuates between +5 and -5. I did say he's very similar to changbin. buff boys. stronk. much strength. except they're also very sweet losers hence the dipping into the negatives. I gave him slightly lower magnitudes than changbin, I don't know why this is the instinct but I mean at least his negative rizz is lower magnitude than changbin's so there's that

minhyuk: low. very negative. EXTREMELY negative. iirc he's very much the puppy type and he reminds me a little too much of hyunjae. he's very aware of the fact that he has next to zero rizz and he WILL use that against you so watch out for the puppy eyes. it doesn't matter in the end though you'll fall victim to them anyway

kihyun: -15. I feel like I've been influenced by this one twt account that I follow bc they love kihyun and are also obsessed with pathetic men so by extension kihyun is pathetic and is down in the negatives. not super high magnitude at least which he should honestly thank me and his hyeya performance for. I was going to give him -1 but then I realized he'd be dangerously close to rizz neutral and that is not happening this man is not neutral on ANYTHING

hyungwon: ooooooooo this is so hard but I'm going to give him -10. he's kinda like chanhee. knows what rizz is. understands his rizz level is in the negatives. does not give two fucks. this gives the impression that he has positive levels of rizz since he doesn't care but be not fooled dear reader he's just a dying victorian child in the guise of a limp noodle dragging himself around the stage. pray for him

(I think kihyun would probably kill me if he knew his rizz levels were under hyungwon's please don't let this get past him)

joohoney: FUCK BRO THIS IS SO HARD. I give him +20. he has so much charisma as an idol it's insane. I watched some of pdx101 (I think this is where it's from) and every time I remember the BAKSU bit I flip flop between convulsing on the floor with laughter and wanting to watch if 15 more times. therefore he gets positive rizz except it's limited by his aegyo. sorry I can't watch that more than 0.1 times before I cringe into oblivion

i.m.: same suit as jangjun and co. he's so alien his rizz is like undefinable. started off with positive infinity magnitude, then it got too high so it like... collapsed in on itself and got converted into whatever the fuck it is now. I couldn't tell you what it is. he's so weird. he holds too much power. I love him very much

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Prominence [WCh. 2.62]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 3.4K

(62/80) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [NCT Masterlist] | [Other Groups Masterlist] | [Prominence S1 Masterlist] | [Prominence S2 Masterlist]

Notes: Had to split this one in two becuse it was wayyyy too long hehe, enjoy! Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

25 February 2022

This was nice. Just laying down after an arduous workout, part of it felt refreshing, actually. You got to work off some steam, you had no idea how much pent-up stress you had until you realized how many weights you kept asking Jeno to add on mixed with his surprised and impressed expressions, but it felt good. At that moment, at least, now you felt like a limp noodle left behind in a soupless bowl. A semi-fixed relationship, a new plethora of rumors to replace the debunked ones, back-to-back schedules, and god knows what else. It felt like they were all crashing down on you at once. There was a heavy weight on your shoulders, and no matter what you did, it didn't seem to let up at all.

But, right now, your only problem was the fact that your entire body felt like jelly. You didn't know what it was that drove you until now. Was it the pure adrenaline of not wanting to be crushed by weights or the fact that you had enough frustrations to work out? Before you knew it, Jeno started to hover over you.

"Hey, gym buddy." His hands were on his hips before one reached out to you.

"Please, don't make me move more than this," you held your hand up to stop Jeno, who'd been holding his hand out to you to help you up. "I am never doing your hell routine again," your back felt sticky against the gym floors, and had it not been for your already disgusting exterior, you'd rather die than lie down here.

"Oh, come on, out of all the people who've tried it, you got the furthest! You actually finished the routine, wow," Jeno beams, his smile almost insulting to you, who could barely feel any of your extremities, you had festered enough strength to call Seonghwa, but that was about it.

"Who else has tried it?"

"Jaemin, Chenle, Xiaojun hyung-"

"Oh, shoot, yeah, Xiaojun!" You attempted to sit up, but your aching stomach told you to stay put. As if summoned, you heard the pitter-patter of rapid footsteps and light panting, then you felt a gooey lick to your face, Bella had made herself known. "Hi, sweetie, where's your dad?" You weakly pet the beagle, who now sat next to your head. She barked and, in no time at all, Xiaojun peered over you.

"Tried Jeno's torture routine?" Xiaojun laughs.

"Hey, she actually finished my hell routine, you stopped at bicep curls," Jeno nudges him.

"It feels like all limbs popped off," you groaned. You looked at your phone screen again, seeing a lone text from Seonghwa.

'Sorry about that, I had to get out of an uncomfortable situation and you're the only one who calls right away. But, we need to talk, I'll see you later tonight.'

Well, that's ominous. You sighed and placed your phone on your chest.

"You know, they say when you lie down it's harder for you to catch your breath," Jeno says.

"I don't care, if I die then my debt to the company gets cancelled," you deadpanned.

"No! Don't say that!" Jeno shakes you lightly, the world slowly starting to spin. You grabbed on his wrist to stop him, but soon your vision started spotting.

"Jeno, stop shaking me."

"(Y/N), take deep breaths!"

"If you don't stop we won't be friends anymore," and just like that, his hands flew away from you. The world settled down and you sat up, taking steadying breaths. Bicep curls, rope training, bar pulls, deadlifts, and god knows how many other workouts that you didn't even know the names of, you had never had a more arduous arm day.

"Well, looks like arm day succeeded! We're doing legs tomorrow, (Y/N)!" Jeno hoists you up by your arms, clapping you on the back. "You have amazing stamina, actually," he hums, handing you a water bottle.

"That's what her boyfriend says," Xiaojun snickers.

"Shut up, Dejun," you groaned. "I used to go to the gym with my brothers..." you muttered. "I was very competitive back then."

"I'd say you still are now," Xiaojun grabs a clean towel and hands it to you.

"Leg day tomorrow?" You ask. Jeno nods, somehow fighting through his own tiredness. "Okay."

"Okay? Really?" His eyes shone. How could you say no to that? That, and, Jeno revealing that you got the furthest may or may not have stroked your ego.

"Yeah, sure," despite your answer, your voice sounded flat.

"Wait, you have brothers?" Jeno asks. "That explains a lot," he hums.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You narrowed your glance. Jeno shrugs.

"Nothing really," he gulps down his water bottle before continuing. "You're just not... you know... like, for example, Saeron's pretty uh..."

"Choose your next words carefully, Lee," you said, a teasing edge in your voice. You're not really mad at him, but it was cute to see the way he stuttered.

"Like, you know how Saeron was pretty awkward around us when we first met? You marched in and immediately defeated Jungwoo at a burp contest," Jeno says. You shrug.

"What, like it was hard?" You laughed. "I'm just teasing, I know what you mean. Yeah, I'm more comfortable around people, I guess. I'm used to it," you shrugged again. It was true, your younger brother was essentially a male hormonal nightmare, and you'd rather not think about his friends that he always had over. Dealing with the guys in NCT were nothing compared to that hot mess. He's really shaped up now that he's older, but it was hard to forget what he was like when you were kids.

"Just... I dunno, we've never seen them and you've been in the group for, what, three years now?" Jeno frowns. "Like, I feel like you know about everyone and their families, but yours are like a mystery," Jeno says, awe in his voice.

"Yeah, crazy to think about," you nodded your head lightly. "Oh, well, it's not important," you looked at the clock on the wall. "I've gotta get going, I promised Saeron I'd help her make her craft corner and I'm grabbing dinner with Yangyang later tonight," you chucked the towel into the bin off to the side. "See you!" You held your hand up and the other two boys waved.

To say you felt drained was an understatement, you were sure that if you had to socialize any further you would've said something mean, it was a good thing you excused yourself quickly, you just had to take a quick shower before heading back home. There was something about seeing the other SM staff and artists as drained as you in that gym that was oddly comforting, though, it felt kind of normal, actually. Kind of nice to know that some random person wasn't taking pictures of you at the gym.

"(Y/N)!" Ah, man. You turned and smiled.

"Minnie!" For her, you could never be mad though. Minjeong grinned.

"Hi, sorry, I'm all sticky," she says, catching herself before hugging you.

"So? I am too!" You laughed but you both ended up bumping shoulders instead. "Sorry, I'd go in for the hug, but I just finished Jeno's routine."

"Oh, so that's why I heard Key sunbae talking about two demons in the deadlift section," she whistled.

"Key sunbae? He only does cardio, what was he doing over there?"

"I don't know," she shakes her head and shrugs. "Either way, um," she nudges her head for you to follow her into the locker rooms. "Hey, I figured I'd let you know because you're my friend, but... there was someone taking pictures of you," she whispers, looking over her shoulder just in case. Your shoulders tensed.

"Are you serious?" You asked. She nodded. "Did they look like a guy? Tall, dark brown hair, kind of built like a dorito, may or may not be trying to look like Seonghwa," you started describing Kyungjae, but with every additional description, Winter's expression only grew more concerned.

"(Y/N), is everything okay?" She asks. Your shoulders slump.

"Did the person taking pictures look like that at all?" You pressed. She shook her head.

"No, the person taking pictures of you was a girl," she frowns, and then her brows furrowed when she saw the relief in your features.

"Thank god, at least it wasn't him," you ran a tired hand down your face.

"Him? What's going on? Are you being stalked?" She continues. "(Y/N), that's really serious!"

"I know! And the company's taking their sweet old time investigating it," you exasperated. "Minnie, I feel like I'm always on edge, I'm afraid he'll follow me home, or something," you shivered. "It's one thing to have fans stalk you on social media, it's a whole other thing to be working with them," you looked around, being sure that Kyungjae wasn't around. When you looked back at Winter, she looked near furious.

"I can't believe the company is being so relaxed about this! Your safety is on the line!" She speaks up. "Oh geez, I'm going to throw in a complaint too, I'll get the other girls in aespa to help me out too, text me the details of this creep." Her phone was in her hand, already typing out the details, you felt your lower lip wobble slightly.

"Thanks, Minnie, really, it means a lot to me, I'll text you about it later though, yeah?" You shot her a small smile and she nods. "Now, tell me about this girl taking pictures of me, what happened?"

"Luckily, I caught her and told her to delete the photos, but she could have more," she frowns. "Guess no one's ever safe in a gym, huh?" She mutters. Right when you were just thinking about it too. "I figured I'd let you know since you were with Jeno."

"People always make assumptions," you shook your head, inputting the combination to your locker and pulling out your shower basket. "Thanks for letting me know, I'll be more careful next time, and I'll probably let Jeno know too," you took your towel next.

"That's good, he's a really good person, I'm sure he'll help you out. Or, maybe you should bring Mars with you! He's a very smart dog!" Minjeong continues. "Last time you brought him over, I swear, I think him and Ningning were having an actual conversation," Minjeong laughs.

"Probably, I think he's smarter than me sometimes, but he's over with Seonghwa right now, I guess he found a way to trot on over there," you chuckled, but Winter's shocked expression contrasted you.

"Mars really is much too smart," she clicks her tongue. "Oh, but you and Seonghwa are back together again, then?"

"Not technically, we both still have a lot of schedules to get through, so we're going to wait on it for a bit," you say, "but, yeah, I'd say we're basically back together now," you grinned.

"Aw, I'm happy for you, me and Jimin unnie always gushed about you two, you're so sweet!" She squeezes your shoulder. "Ah! I won't keep you, I think I heard you say you were busy, let's talk again soon! I miss talking to my trainee buddy!"

"Me too, you take care!" You watched her leave and, once she was gone, you fell back onto the bench, burying your face in your hands.

Privacy's an illusion, you wouldn't be surprised if someone was watching you right now. Your only solace was that the showers had locks. The last thing you wanted was a Twitter hashtag bashing you for what brand of shampoo and conditioner you used.

~

Your worst fear was only confirmed when you went home, your hands somewhat sore from gripping onto the hammer too tight and your fingers somehow still steady despite the torture you put them through earlier and now. You held the nail steady while you hammered it into the shelf, all the while, your manager, Suho, interrogated you.

"How could you be so careless, (Y/N)?" He asks, sounding more disappointed than angry.

"Careless? I was at the company gym with a groupmate, of course, I'm not going to be paying attention while I do reps, I was more concerned about the bar crushing my sternum," you answered. Suho opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with the sound of the hammer driving into wood.

"(Y/N)," he speaks up once you stop. "This is important, please focus."

"What's so bad about it? I went to the gym," you glared at him and he sighed.

"What's bad are these pictures of you and Jeno, (Y/N)! I understand he's spotting you, but not everyone's going to believe it! The company wants you and Jeno to make it clear that you're not seeing each other, both of your ratings are decreasing-" You hit the hammer a little too hard, bending the nail and causing both Suho and Saeron to flinch. You took a deep breath and turned to them, hammer clutched loosely in your hand while you leaned against the wall. Saeron could only look at you with concern. "I'm sorry, sorry," you apologized quietly, pulling the nail out of the wood with your hands.

"(Y/N), are you alright? It's okay if you're tired or burnt out, do you want to talk about it?" She asks. You shook your head.

"I'm fine, thank you though, Suho, what does the company want me to say?"

"Just go on live, put out a story, or tweet, or whatever. Just make it clear that you and Jeno are just friends," Suho sighs, hands massaging his forehead. "Right when NCThree promotions are taking off, some dumbass staff had to drop pictures."

"How's the fanbase taking it?" You go back to positioning the shelf.

"Not bad, there are just a few bad apples, the usual, but any person with a sane mind can see that he's just spotting you. Not everyone knows what it looks like, though," Suho walks next to you and shows you the picture. This had to be one of the images Winter was talking about, you should've known that at least one would've slipped through. The image was in no way incriminating, or at least, from what you could tell, it wasn't. It was during benching, Jeno was spotting you then since you were lifting weights heavier than usual, nothing incriminating. Just standing close enough to lift the bar up if, god forbid, it started crushing you.

"Big deal out of nothing," you drove in the last nail and took the phone, scrolling through the comments. It was true, there were only a few angry comments, more people defending you than anything and explaining that Jeno was just spotting, something to avoid injury if anything. You handed the phone back. "Alright, I'll drop a tweet or something, let me just finish up helping Saeron and I'll do it," you crossed your arms. Regardless, Suho and Saeron exchanged concerned looks. Saeron stood up, hand settling on your arm.

"If you need to talk about anything, please come to me, alright, (Y/N)? You've been working nonstop since Resonance, it's okay to be tired," she says.

"I'm fine, thank you," you look at the time, night had long fallen and the craft corner was practically completed at this point, all it needed was some personal touches from Saeron and that was it. "Hey, I'm going to head out to grab dinner with Yangyang, yeah? Call me if the situation worsens."

"Is going out a good idea right now, (Y/N)?" Suho asks. Saeron now nudges Suho, as if to tell him to just let it slide. Suho hesitates, but doesn't press the conversation.

"It's just to my aunt's place, she's already closed it down for the night for us. We'll be careful," you say, grabbing the hat off of the rack and a mask. "I'll have the tweet out by tomorrow, promise," you nodded your head.

"Then I'll trust you with that," he says. The two of them watch you walk off.

"She needs it, just to let off some steam, you know?" Saeron starts placing her embroidery materials on their designated areas. "She's been working hard, apparently she has a stalker on staff right now, and the whole thing with Seonghwa, it's all weighing her down, just cut her some slack, it's best for us to be patient," Saeron says.

"I know, it just kills me to see her not asking us for help, you know?"

"Let's just hope that Yangyang gets through to her, he usually does," Saeron huffs. She hands Suho an empty embroidery patch and circle. "Here, do some handcrafts, it's good for you." Suho looks down at it, seeing the outline of a floral pattern.

"Sure, yeah, I could use it," he shakes his head. Saeron pulls out a chair for him and motions for him to sit. Suho could only nod.

"Whoa, you two look like you need drinks," Jihyun walks out of her room, red headphones hanging around her neck. Saeron stares at her and Jihyun frowns. "Make it three drinks," she says, entering the kitchen and emerging again with a pack of beer. "Beginning of the year burnout is such a bitch, I get it," she easily opens a bottle with the side of the table, offering to Saeron first. "She alright?"

"She's getting through, I hope," Saeron says. "How is she in promotions?" She looks to Suho.

"She's fine, honestly, if I didn't see her right now, I wouldn't have suspected a thing," he says. "It's a bit frustrating though."

"Yeah, I know, I think she gets it from her brother," Saeron sighs.

"The prodigal older brother," Jihyun snickers. She snaps a finger and points to Saeron. "You know, Suho, Ronnie here is the only one of us to have met him." At this, Suho sat a little straighter.

"And it was by complete accident too, I don't think I would've known that they were related if (Y/N) didn't say anything," Saeron says. "But you could tell by how they interact, the reason why (Y/N)'s so stubborn is definitely because of him," she says. "But, weird thing is, she always listens to him, in the end. Or, that's what I got from when I met him. They'll fight a bit, but in the end, (Y/N) always folds."

"Now that's hard to believe," Suho hums. "You should see how fast Yangyang and Mark shape up when (Y/N) says something," he chuckles.

"Oh, I bet," Jihyun takes a sip of her beer.

"Her brother though... he's something else, (Y/N) has been trying to get him to come meet us properly, but he just won't do it, he's a bit mysterious."

"Sounds like an asshole to me, personally," Jihyun huffs, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face. "But, (Y/N) loves him a whole lot, so we can't say anything," Jihyun shrugs.

"He did raise her," Saeron continues.

"Yup, they're seven years apart, can you believe that? Then she has a younger brother too, don't know too much about him though," Jihyun continues. "We spoke to him a couple of times when they were calling, but he lives in the States so the timezones never match up."

"Can't believe there are things about her I don't know," Suho says. "I know Mark and Yangyang in and out, and even now, this is the first I've heard of her siblings."

"She doesn't talk much about her private life, you know, it's the one thing she still has to herself. And I think that's really important. Everything about her is virtually online. Habits, hobbies, friends old and new, I've even seen her cup size floating around," Jihyun frowns.

"Her family is the only thing she still has to herself, what a way to word it, Jia," Saeron shakes her head. "She's done a good job at it, considering who her younger brother is, so I can respect that she's very quiet about it. I just wish I knew them better so I could reach out to them..." The edge of Jihyun's chair falls to the ground with a soft thud.

"Actually... Ronnie... maybe we could." She looks over to Saeron, who looks back quizically. "Just let me pull a few strings," she stands up, placing her headphones back on and pressing the call button while walking off back to her room. "Oh! Kim Taegi! Did you say you knew the Support player from Team Orion, yeah! That American team! Mind if we swap numbers?"

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[micamicster]

⭐⭐⭐ + if theres any lore, re: how everybody met how they started doing what theyre doing, that didnt make it into the fic that you want to share 👀

Ok so like I'm thrilled you asked this because there is SO MUCH LORE

This fic went through two major iterations before I settled on keeping it all on the road (and all from steve's pov) which means I've got all this shit i really really couldn't fit into the format of this particular story, but which i Know to be True. Robin and Steve's backstory is a big one! ( @hihereami I know you wanted this one too) Uh. Trigger warning for attempted sexual assault.

Ok so the tricky thing with Steve and Robin was how to translate the very particular elements of their bonding backstory (kidnapped from their shit summer job and drugged and tortured by russian spies) into something that would tie them together equally tightly but which actually applies to the real world? Like I think just having them work at Scoops together wouldn’t cut it--Robin in particular would need something major to prove to her that Steve is trustworthy.

What I figured is that they would have been runaway teenagers working at that ice cream shop in LA and dreaming of being rock stars. Steve gets invited to some big shot’s party because he’s dating one of the hired dancers, and he brings Robin along because he knows she’s interested in the industry, and then she gets roofied at the party, and Steve doesn’t ditch her. I wrote a little bit of it, in a scene where Robin tells Eddie about it, hang on

“Back when Steve and I had only just met, he brought me with him to some big Hollywood executive’s party. I have no idea how he scored an invite himself—I think he was seeing one of the dancers? And he brought me. Because, you know, at the time I was telling everyone I wanted to be a director, and I guess he thought this could be my in.”

Robin takes a gulp of her drink, and Eddie thinks the story is done. That it’s about Steve Harrington, dim but decent guy, bringing along a girl he scoops ice cream with to some fancy party because he once heard her say she wanted to make movies.

It’s not the end of the story.

“We got roofied,” says Robin baldly.

Eddie’s head snaps up. “What?”

“I think they were aiming for me,” Robin twists the hem of her shirt around her fingers until the tips go white, “but you know me. I’m not very good at parties, I’m socially awkward, I get nervous and ramble—Steve was sticking pretty close. We ended up splitting a couple of our drinks, and, well, he got some too.”

“They took us upstairs. Us, because… Steve wouldn’t leave me. I don’t know what they gave us, but it was like… everything seemed funny, but it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all.”

Steve, head lolling on his neck, limp as an over-cooked noodle, sticking to her like glue. Them yanking Steve around, making him dance for them, ‘we’ll leave your little girlfriend alone if you…’

“They broke his nose and I just sat there laughing like a loon.”

“I threw up. That’s what stopped it. I stuck my finger down my throat and started puking, and then Steve started puking, and I guess it didn’t seem that much fun anymore, to them.”

The two of them covered in vomit, blood still trickling from Steve’s nose, crawling down the hall to a bathroom. She remembers laying in a bathtub howling with laughter, dizzy from the way the lights seemed to spin, Steve sticking his head into the sink, spraying faintly pink water everywhere as he snorts and giggles.

Him passing her a wet towel, dropping bonelessly onto the tiles next to the bathtub, talking nonsense to keep awake until they sober up, playing truth because they’re too woozy for dares. Steve’s truth being that he really, really liked her.

“And then?”

“And then I came out. For the first time.” Robin claps her hands together. “And we’ve been best friends ever since.”

“Jesus.”

“I know.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, it took him like two minutes to put together that lesbians exist, but yeah, just like that.”

It doesn’t work in the fic becasue it’s all from Steve’s pov, and he would never tell Eddie about this because he wouldn’t share something that happened to Robin without her permission. And also because it’s not so much the specific event? As it is about how they both have an intimate knowledge of how dangerous this industry can be for teenagers, and that they also trust the other person totally and completely to always have their back.

[ashercate-marablanchett]

𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 2

Warnings: Idk just talking about body and weight. Fainting

Word Count: 2,205

"Alright. You should have the syllabus out you got at the beginning of the year. You can choose two books that are in the A-level curriculum. The Crucible by Arthur Miller or 1984 by George Orwell. Choose wisely. It will be half of the midterm." I didn't get the English syllabus. "Well, finished early today. You may leave." The whole lot fleed. Ms. Blanchett sat at her desk flipping through tons of paperwork.

"I'm sorry Ms. Blanchett. I don't have the A-level syllabus." I unwedged myself from the sharp desk my legs have sorely been cut on. Her eyes snuck across the top of her classes that dropped low on the bridge of her nose, towards me. "You must've misplaced it. Or did you use it to roll your fags Shiny boots?"

"No actually. I didn't start at the beginning of the year. If you didn't realize by now." I mocked her rather bold tone. Maybe she didn't like what I said. Or how? She straightened up walking along the width of her desk. She sat on the edge of her desk before me crossing her legs at the knee. "Aren't we a little gutsy? You're Asher Mara yes? Any relation to Rooney Mara?" Her arms crossed as well after she adjusted her specs.

"Yeah, that's my sister, unfortunately." I split my hair from the back pulling it to the front of my chest. I often fixed and fidgetted with it in times of stress. This was a stressful moment. She laughed under her breath coving her mouth with her hand. "Hardly. Shouldn't be a misfortune. You should be glad. Your sister's graduating class was the first one I taught. She still has all the piercings you have?" She stood back up turning around. Her hands rushed through a metal wire bin on her desk searching for something. It was a piece of paper. "Here. It's the syllabus. Have you given any thought to what you would like to read?" She handed me the paper as I shoved it into my bag. "She has even more haha! And thank you. I might read 1984. I've read Animal Farm so I'd expect one of his classics to be good as well."

"You've read George Orwell's work? I never imagined you'd be into the classics. Have you ever read The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde? It's about a corrupt young man who somehow kept his youthful beauty, but a special painting gradually reveals his inner ugliness to all. You might enjoy it. Here, take my copy." She spun around to the back of her desk pulling out a small book from her shelf. She came back to me extending her hand out. "Thank you very much Ms. Blanchett. I'll return it very quickly." My hands shook trying not to let the slick cover slip from my shaken hands.

"You're quite alright Asher. If you like it, keep it and if you don't then you can return it." She smiled promptly like she was almost uncomfortable. Maybe I was reading into it too much. That's what it felt like. Maybe I was overstaying my welcome. I put the book in my open bag also looking at my watch. I'm going to miss my train.

"Again thank you very much, Ms. Blanchett, I have to run or else I'll miss my train home." I started to zip my back, slowly shuffling my boots along the laminate. "Alright, then Miss Asher. Get home safe. I'll see you tomorrow." I scurried along the desks making it to the door. "Bye!" I waved my small hand like a limp noodle. I'm an idiot. God, why did wave that furiously? Goddamnit!

✯¸.'*¨'*✿ ✿*'¨*'.¸✯

My Oyster card was almost out of cash. I forgot to text Rooney this afternoon about transferring me the cash. I'll ask her tonight. I was at the metro going down the stairs to the station. My knees were cracking with every step I strode. Until my leg had other plans. It points to the left hitting the beam of the railing. I crashed onto the platform landing on my knees. God did it hurt. It felt as though I just kneeled on broken glass. It burnt. I was becoming anxious that there were others behind watching my catastrophe. I lunged from my bloody spot on the ground. Racing to the shuttle. I didn't realize it until I sat down and noticed I was bleeding heavily. My off-black sheer tights were damp in a cartoon-like ruby colour. Huge rips were on the top of my kneecaps where the pool of blood was flowing. It was a weird sensation, to tell the truth. It stung while it felt cold. It ran down my calf like cold water, every little tense of my muscle made the stinging come. It was sensual. That might sound odd to some, but the sheer fact of the adrenaline as my body tumbled out from my stance made me feel...I don't what word to use. Alive? Perhaps that's not the word but that's not what I want.

Ms. Blachett gave me that book, I started to read the first few pages. Even a few sentences sounded familiar.

'The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.'

It was written beautifully. The words melted off the pages, I had no idea why I thought this book was so interesting. Or it could have been the fact Cate gave it to me. I had to admit Cate is pretty hot, especially for the run-of-mill English teacher.

My stop came quicker than usual, I was so mesmerized by my book that I almost missed my stop. I got up from my seat forgetting my legs were cut up. I startled myself until I came to remember what I did. Now the blood was dripping from my boots into my socks. I'll have another pair of ruined socks in my drawer tonight. The apartment complex we lived in was five blocks away from the metro station. The rain was heavier than this morning. My boots squeaked along the cement and my blazer was soaked. I don't have another one. I know I'll be in shit tomorrow out of uniform again. The cement stairs were like an uphill battle, my knee ached. I opened the door going up the carpet stairs, there were probably 50 or so tenants in my building. None we've ever met, however. We are hermits. Especially Rooney was, we weren't sisters or anything. We were identical in our characteristics and sometimes in our appearance, but since she's a lawyer she had to hide her tattoos and had to remove some of her piercings, unfortunately. She looked badass, now she has to act badass in a pantsuit. Rooney was in the kitchen making something in the pan. Her hair was pinned in a bun as she was hooking her septum ring back in. That one was her favourite piercing. She always puts it back in after work.

"Hey-hey. How was school?" Rooney grabbed the spatula flipping whatever concoction she was making.

"Nice shirt. You stole it from my room again." I plobbed down on the kitchen bar stool in the island. My backpack took the seat beside me sitting heavier than I was.

"First of all you little thief, this was my Siouxsie Sioux shirt. I didn't know you know who this is. You haven't answered the question. How was school?" Rooney's hair was cut sloppily. It looked like she cut it herself. It was an inch above her eyebrow unevenly.

"I do listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees, it was from you most of my music is from you know and school was fine. We got a new level A English teacher. She's cute." Rooney slid to the fridge grabbing a glass jar of maraschino cherries. Her socks looked comfy, she slid around the laminate flooring like she was on ice. "Someone else showed me them also when I was young. I should be pretty fucking proud. Here. They're your favourite." 165 calories. Do I chance it? 4 calories for one. Maybe just one. One won't hurt me.

My strength wasn't strong enough to open the jar, Rooney leaned against the counter beside the stove watching me struggle. "Small fry? Here. Give it." She snatched the jar from my hands cracking the lid effortlessly. "You're extremely weak Ash. We need to book you a doctor's appointment. Let's see what days I'm free." She turned and stirred the fried hash around. "No, no, no. I am completely fine, I'm tired. I'm just gonna take these cherries and go to my room." I picked up a fork in the drawer, whisking the jar away to my room.

✯¸.'*¨'*✿ ✿*'¨*'.¸✯

My blazer was soaked. I draped it on the radiator making sure it dried for tomorrow. I took off my uniform entirely. My skirt was pinned with bobby pins. It was medium but felt like an XL. My white button-collared shirt fit me nicely, it was slimming. I watched in the mirror the way my body moved under my shirt. My legs were perfect, my kneecaps bucked out like they were trying to escape. They were cut up and bruised. Peppered with dried blood around the wounds. I had to shower, but that can wait. I needed to clean my room. It was screaming in desperation. All of my vinyl was scattered all over the carpet. I was on a maniac mission last night. I wanted to feel like I was at every concert in my room. Bowie, Siouxsie, Cigarettes After Sex, The 1975, Phoebe Bridgers and of course Depeche Mode. I had to have it in alphabetical order. I had boxes upon boxes full of vinyls. 1 box was from the states, and the 2 box was bought here over time living here with Rooney. Rooney has also had some of her vinyls gone missing since I was here.

"Fuck...I have to. It's the greatest hits." I flipped the vinyl front to back. Siouxsie & The Banshees Once Upon A Time. It had all of their greatest hits. I began to undress turning up the volume on my record player.

'I heard a rumour, It was just a rumour, I heard a rumour. What have you done to her? Myriad lights, They said I'd be impressed. Arabian Knights, At your primitive best.'

I threw on my fuzzy pyjama pants and an off-grey hoodie. I sat in my desk chair with my legs up on the desk. I was trying to multitask, that's not my strong suit. I was trying to open my bag while cracking the window. I found my book and the syllabus Ms. Blanchett gave me. My ashtray was hidden under my laptop. I dragged it along the black wood of my desk seeing I still had half a cigarette in there from this morning. My lighters were hidden in the cup holding all of my pens and pencils. My fingers twitched flicking the roll of the lighter. I couldn't wait to crack open this book again. I awaited anticipation. I didn't finish my cigarette before I opened the book.

With the music, on top of me, I was trying to focus to read the following sentences. My brain was being warped. My head felt like it was detaching from my neck. Like I was floating away into the open window.

"Awe fuck-..." My eyes became disco ball. White sparkles fly around my room. My head went back looking up at my ceiling. This sort of thing happens often, one day I'm on top of the world, and the next I'm tumbling over into my carpet. I couldn't tell what will happen. The sentences on the page went a blur, it was a mess. I began to shudder at the cold instantly rushing through my body. I arose flipping the page, the page hit my skin sharply, causing the cut down my thumb. My eyes doubled. The blood drained out onto the white carpet under my desk. My heart was beating in my ears. A headache was coming and going. I turned trying to make it to my bed. I didn't. My legs gave out hitting my shoulder and my head on the floor. I wanted my body to freak out, but I couldn't make my pinky move. My vision was going dark. I couldn't even speak. My time was running thin.

"Ash! You forgot the lid!" I heard Rooney yell. Her feet were going up the stairs. She was a couple of feet away, you could tell. She's going to freak out. I thought my hands were under my body but it wasn't moving. She was at least half a foot away. I went to yell to her but it came out as a low squeak. Don't come in, don't come in Roon.

"Ash! Asher! What happened?! Asher! Can you hear me..." Rooney came in bending her knee. All faded to black after.

[hanafubukki]

Convert Anon💜 here!!

I forgot to add to my ladt one but them seeing what we do on a daily basis when they arent around is nice and also Idia calling someone a limp noodle is just *chefs kisses and laughs*

(Also Build a bear also has a eevee evolutions so also them i want and would honestly die for them)

And ahdjdjjd Hana, my world, my sun, my beautiful wife, you are flustering me

And yes! We shall learn to dance together :D

And your words make me so happy cause they are so creative and beautiful and are able to make into scenarios and worlds we can all get lost in and find so much joy in them, and every time we reread them it makes us so happy and filled with joy

Omg yes! I’m glad you liked that. Idia calling someone a limb noodle gives me such mushu vibes that I had to do it, plus he has fire hair so I though it appropriate. And these characters don’t always see what mc is going through and I think they need to see that and appreciate it more.

I love evee too Convert 💕 Anonie! I always hoped they would do like a galaxy version with all the elements. It would look so cool 👏👏

If I’m your sun, would you be my moon? 🌙 ☺️💙💙 my husbando/waifu? The light in my darkness.The one who shines so bright in the night sky.

Sndkajjss

Ahhhhh

Thank you Convert 💜 Anonie, the joy I feel from those words are endless 😭😭😭💜💜💜💗💗💗

sorry for replying late Convert anonie, I have been busy with school and this essay that's due soon is driving me nuts. but talking to you always makes my day and brings a smile to my face ☺️🌸💚🌺

[stellarsaurus]

Lights Out

Hello internet! My poor little kobold almost was skewered last night in the Strixhaven campaign by a big mean Mage Hunter! He just wanted to read a scroll! Thankfully he lived! A wizard dying in a library though does seem fitting.

My ears have been successfully pierced! It took a lot of courage from me, and support from my fantastic spouse, but it is done! They have some sort of gemstone or zirconia that when the light hits them, they sparkle in rainbow colors! The piercings hurt as much as I had read on the internet that they would, I would say a 2 out of 10 on the pain scale. The first piercing did make me black out though. My spouse described me as a limp noodle. I don't know how long I was out, but I didn't even realize I blacked out. The piercer was incredibly kind, and super professional, and didn't make me feel bad about it at all. They gave me some water and a glucose tablet, and after 10 minutes or so, I was ready for the 2nd ear. The second ear went wonderful. No negative reaction, no black out. I might have squeezed my spouse's hand a bit too hard though. Sorry love! ❤️

Immediately after that was dinner with my Father-in-law. This was going to be the dinner I was going to come out to him with. Due to him being sick with COVID and he going on vacation, we hadn't seen each other in 3-4 weeks. Since then I started dressing more feminine, shaved, and pierced my ears. We sat down, and I thought I'd open up easy and said, "I have some surprises to show you." I still had my facemask on, and he looked at me in the eyes and replied, "Tell me about the surprises." I pulled off my mask and just looked at him, giving him time to process the visual changes to my face. He just stared at me, smiling, and didn't say anything. I pointed out my earrings first, since the lack of facial hair was the most obvious, and we discussed it for a bit. Then he just kept looking at me, no mention of the lack of facial hair. It just kind of froze me. How has he not said anything yet? He has never seen me clean shaven since he's known me. I was so mentally trapped in the confusion of this, I couldn't even bring the dialogue forward! Again, my hero of a spouse chimed in, seeing that I froze, and told him about my coming out. Don't worry, they didn't steal it from me, we had discussed beforehand that if it looked like I wasn't going to do it, to do it for me.

This followed with a large amount of supportive talk, hugs, words of affirmation, etc that I'll keep to myself because they were personal. I then brought up why I was so frozen, and he blinked a few times. HE DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE I WAS BEARDLESS!!! We had a good laugh about it, and made fun of him for it, which was a great way to break the mood from earlier.

So yeah, two major milestones out of the way! I'm feeling great! It's been 21 hours since the piercing and they don't hurt, ache, or throb. I wasn't expecting that.

I hope you are having a great start of the year, and if you need any support I can offer, send me a message. You are amazing, and valid ❤️.

Much Love!

Alex

[that-one-kid-tm]

Got my wisdom teeth out today so here’s what happened (in order): **spoiler alert for #5**

1. (Before I got the sweet sweet sleepy go night night juice) i was crying “I don’t wanna do this mooommmm! Don’t make me do this pleaseeee” and then trying to convince my mom to let me go and keep my teeth

2. Cried for my mom the second I woke up (“I want my mama [sobbing btw and the nurse was quite done]” “let me see my momma/gimmeeee my moooommmaaaaaa”)

3. Tried to get up to get in the wheelchair, almost face planted, giggling my ass off, and then once I was in the wheelchair let my head roll back and had to have it propped up for me (also asked where the nurse’s pink l’avocat went because he took it off and I was concerned if he lost it bc I loved it lol)

4. Cried until my mom told the nurses that I loved them so much (I got an I love you too lmao and was very happy)

**5. Accidentally gave my mom a spoiler for a book she’s reading (A Court of Thorns and Roses) and asked “is she a faery yet?” My mom said no, and I started bawling because I gave her a spoiler, so she said “no, no! I figured it would be like Twilight, yknow how Bella turned into a vampire at the end?” And I, still very much high and delirious, exclaimed “you’re a vampire???” My mom, laughing but trying to reassure me, said “no! I’m not a vampire!” Me: “I’m a vampire????” Mom: “no, baby, no one’s a vampire, I promise”

6. Me:“Why’s my mouth hurt?”

Mom: because they took your wisdom teeth out”

Me: “no!! I need my wisdom teeth!! I need my wisdom!!” (While aggressively poking my forehead)

7. I asked if they took my tongue, which I couldn’t feel, and my mom told me no, they did not, because I was talking, right? So I had to have a tongue to be able to talk. Me, remembering my love of birds, said “like a parrot! I’m a parrot! (My mom started laughing) or a crow!!”

8. I said “fuck traffic” but I don’t think my mom heard me say that lmao

9. I got inside my house (my mom had to carry me bc I was still very much a limp noodle) and I was giggling and forgot I had a puppy and was astonished.

10. I almost face planted into my moms bed, then gave her a hug and told her I loved her, did the same with my brother and grandma, and then pointed at my brother’s friend, who I do not know very well, and made him give me a hug and told him I loved him. I was convinced I had two brothers and looked at my grandma and held up two fingers and said happily “I have two brothers!”

11. I cried myself to sleep and then woke up and cried again then started watching demon slayer

[wordsbyspcsg]

Untitled | Unfinished

It’s raining gasoline but my best friend really wants to get high so we walk to the corner store. Enough puddles of petroleum are scattered through the streets to make my eyes water. He focuses his red eyes on mine and asks if I’m crying, I laugh it off and say, “just like you!” We laugh, anxiously wiping away burning tears. Cars zoom by and honk, one woman even yelling out of her window, “hey! Where’s your raincoat? This is strong stuff out here!”. He pretends not to hear her, so I do too. 

We walk past the community garden and notice that most of the veggies have wilted. No one even bothered to cover them up before the storm. Beautiful, tall stalks of corn reduced to long, limp noodles. Purple tomatoes oozing rotten seeds and muck. Squash, squashed. The soil thick and frothing. The watering cans filled to the brim with gasoline. When the light shines through them, they kind of look like pitchers of beer. My stomach cringes. 

We finally get to the corner store and are met with a booming, “DING DONG!” from the security bell. It bounces off the clerks plexiglass and runs through the aisles. 

 “Damn! Does it have to be so loud, man?” The clerk pretends not to hear him. When he notices we are wet, he backs away from the counter and puts on gloves. 

“Anyway I guess, can I get a lighter?

“You want BIC, Zippo, Coleman, Dur-?”

“Dude- I just need a lighter.” 

I step away from the counter to look for an umbrella. Fat chance, but I figured it’s worth a shot. I scanned the aisles past bright bottles of motor oil, xxtra hot hot cheetos, battered boxes of Cheez-its, sticky green apple sour straws - and finally an empty pole with an old tattered sticker beneath it that says "UMBRELLA $8.99". I wonder if they have any more in the back. I hear shouting from the counter so I hurry back.

“What do you mean I can’t use it? It’s MY lighter now.” 

“Bro- it’s raining gas outside! You can’t light it in my parking lot. Whatever you do off my property is not my problem.” 

“Yeah, not your fuckin problem.” 

He storms out and I quickly leave behind him. I avoid eye contact with the clerk. The parking lot seems like it’s only 4 ft wide and my steps are practically gliding across the pavement trying to keep up with his. We reach the sidewalk in seconds and I see him reach for his pocket, the joint. 

“Maybe we should wait till we get back home.”

“Oh god, not you too.” 

“I’m just saying, it is raining gas outside so maybe we should just hurry back. We’re so close. Hey- I know. We can make a game out of it! Last one home is the loser, lets race!” 

He sighs, “I don’t care if I’m the loser. I’m gonna light up.” 

He puts the joint in his mouth and creates a little house with his hand for the lighter. Brown beads of gas slip down the back of his palms as he brushes the side of the lighter with his thumb. I flinch at the first flick. 

“Hey! Maybe that’s really not a good idea. Cmon, let’s see how fast we can make it home. I bet we can make it in 4 minutes if we jaywalk!” 

He laughs and puts the joint back in his pocket. 

“It’s gonna be hard as fuck to light this anyway.” 

We’re speed walking home and I get distracted. The gas is starting to get to me. My stomach is in the fetal position and yesterday’s dinner is punching at my throat. My head throbs so intensely that it shakes my vision. I squint to see “ELM ST”. Great, we’re almost there. I focus on my feet so we can get home. Left, right. Left, right. It’s just that simple. Keep pushing forward. In about 20 more left rights, we’ll be home. We’ll be dry. We’ll take showers. I start to worry about how much shampoo it’s going to take to get all of this gas out of my hair and suddenly, it feels quiet. It feels hot.

I turn around and he’s on fire. He lit it while I wasn’t looking. 

[madametamma]

6.) Sam starts seeping dried ghost nip and makeing ghost nip tea. She puts it in small viles in the first aid kit for when Danny is really bad off. It basically works like laughing gas. And boy does Danny say some weird shit.

@floralflowerpower   Okay!  

_______________________________

He downed the entire vial of tea in a few gulps and in less than a minute’s time, Danny’s breathing slowed from a heaving, pain filled rasp to a soft even intake.  His head lolled back and he was gone.  In his mind he was laying down on a comfortable raft rocking back and forth on the gentle waves of the open sea, nothing around for miles, just like his thoughts.  Splotches of light and color danced across his vision and he felt warm and cozy. He was vaguely aware of the voices of his friends, Sam, and tucker calling out from somewhere, but their calls were so low and distorted.  They sounded funny to him.  Everything was just so funny and mellow.

Sam and Tuck stared at their friend in concern.  He sat between them in the middle of the specter speeder, his body went as limp as noodles as he reclined against the seat.  He stared up at the ceiling completely blank faced, pupils noticeably dilated.

“Danny...  Hello? You in there dude?”  Tucker joked as waved a hand in front of the boy’s face but a worried feeling in the pit of his stomach started to grow when the only response he received from his friend was a slow lethargic blink.

“You gave him too much!”  Tucker immediately snapped at Sam.

“I’m not a doctor!  I don’t know dosage! I thought making the ghost nip into a tea would LESSEN the effects!”

“Don’t tell me you used WAY more of the stuff than last time to make this dumb tea because you thought ‘the effects would be lessened’!”

Sam stammered, red faced in both defensive anger and embarrassment.  She discovered “Ghost nip” a few weeks ago in one of her old books and decided to grow some in her green house to see if it were true.  Cat nip, but for ghosts.

She gave Danny just a little to try.  Just one whiff of the stuff had the kid acting weird.  He’d suddenly shoved it into his face and began to inhale the scent so deeply, it was like he couldn’t get enough of it.  For a few minutes after it was pried from his hands he seemed to be a bit mellow and spacey.  Then he returned to normal, asking what had happened.

That gave Sam the idea to brew the stuff as a tea.  Possibly use it as a pain reliever for Danny if he ever got hurt in a fight.  She kept a little vial of it in the back of the specter speeder’s first aid kit. She had no idea the effects would be THIS strong.  Hopefully, he’d come back to his senses soon.

“Just help me with his shoulder!”

After a rough fight with Skulker while the three of them were exploring the ghost zone, Danny got more than a little banged up.  As they two of them put the boy’s dislocated shoulder back into place, and he showed no reaction, they began to get a little worried.

“Next time, how about we just give him a little ibuprofen, huh Sam?” Tucker sneered.

“Skulker only managed to find us because he tracked your stupid tech!”

“My tech didn’t turn Danny into a zombie!”

“At least I was- mmph!”

Sam was cut off when Danny suddenly put his hand up to her face.  He pet her head like he was stroking a cat.

She pried his hand away.  “Danny!  Are you okay? Say something!”

Danny lazily opened his mouth to speak but what came out was no human language.  It sounded like the distorted shrieks of some demonic beast echoing up from the bottom of a dark pit.  The two humans knew the “words” (If they could be described as such) were coming from Danny, but the sounds didn’t match up to his lip movements and the voice seemed to be reverberating from inside their own minds like a form of telepathy.  Danny was speaking to them in ghost speak.  

“//><**<**>//>/***><!!!!>>>><>!!!!” He went on until suddenly he burst out into a fit of hysterical laughter. 

“TEe HEe HAhah AHahahHA!  AH HAHHAHAHAHAH!...” After a few moments the boy calmed down and fell back into silence

“H-hey buddy... W-whatcha laughing about?”  Tucker asked 

“.... I dunno....”  Was Danny’s slurred reply.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam and Tuck decided to leave their squabble there and just focus on getting their friend home.

The ride back to the Fenton Portal was in complete silence for the most part.  Sam and Tuck didn’t say a word and Danny just sat slumped between them.  Occasionally their friend would mutter something they didn’t understand in ghost speak.  He’d go on some tirade in the dead language and occasionally slipped some English words in.

“!!~=~XgsgfdX~*-_=ljkl=~~XX//Xkljhg//X*ljg*>,>>lkgj>~_*jhg*<<kgdhdj<*((*<><hfdsjkhjy**!!~X~ an da show ran fer five months! *((jhghj!!`~~>>XX(*.g*))+”

Then he slipped back into a dead eyed zombie stare as his head rolled back onto his shoulder.  

Danny’s still body gave Sam the creeps.  He looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open.  She had to keep looking at the subtle rise and fall of his chest to be sure he wasn’t a corpse.

“Hey, Danny.”  Sam cooed.  “You wanna maybe try and sleep it off?” She reached over to his face to close his eyes for him so she didn’t have to keep seeing her friend like this, but his eye lids would just rise up open again.  After a few attempts Sam gave up.

“No? You wanna just sit there like that, being the stuff of nightmares?” She asked not expecting an answer.

The trip back to Fentonworks was only about 15 minutes but felt like eternity.  They parked the Specter speeder back where it was supposed to be so as not to draw suspicion from the Drs Fenton.

“Hey, Danny, we’re home.”  Sam whispered as she tried to pull his limp body out of the speeder.

“I can bury za nasty burgers in zuh garden... Zen it’ll grow into a nesty burger tree and I can eat za burgers alla time...”

‘Well at least he’s speaking English now.’ Sam thought to herself. Danny was like a rag doll in her arms but at least he wasn’t heavy.  Actually, he felt TOO light.

He started giggling to himself again.  “M’head’s all ...  fffffffloaty... Em I floating?”

“Actually, I think you might be.”  Sam let go of her friend and took a step back.  Instead of falling to the floor he remained in the air just how she was carrying him.

“Huh...” Was all Tucker could think to say at the sight of his levitating friend. Today was just one of those days.

“Hello? Kids?” Mrs. Fenton’s voice called out from upstairs.

“Hellooooo!”  Danny called back before Sam slapped a hand over his mouth to quiet him.  Panic shot through Sam and Tuck like a bolt of lightning.  They couldn’t let Danny’s parent’s see him like this!  They positioned their friend so that his feet were on the floor and it looked like he was standing.  In a hushed tone Sam told her friend, “Why don’t we stay grounded for a little while, huh?”

“But I finished ma chores zis week!  Why do I hafta be grounded?”  Danny loudly whined before Sam quieted him again.

“THERE YOU ARE!”  Jack Fenton’s voice boomed as he made his way downstairs with Maddie right behind him.  

“Hey Danno!  Check out your mother and I’s newest invention!  The ghost grater!  How’s about a quick tutorial?”

Danny slurred in gibberish. “JJJjUhhH~MmmMM~FFFffNnYyyEE~gEhnnNNn...” 

“That’s what I thought you’d say!” His father replied, far too into his invention to pay much mind to his son. 

Jack went on for nearly ten minutes, while Sam and Tucker propped Danny up between the two of them.  His knees buckled and he almost collapsed twice. He began to float off the floor three times, all the while Sam and Tuck held on to his waist and shoulders trying to keep him still. Not once did his parents notice, too excited over their new device.  When the gadget sparked in the ghost hunters hands and caught fire, they took that as their opportunity to leave.

“Well we have so much homework to do, why don’t we just leave you to your work!”  Tucker said in a rush as he and Sam were about to drag their friend upstairs.  

Suddenly Danny jerked himself free and stumbled drunkenly towards his mom.  He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned into her side while she was talking to Jack about working the bugs out of their new machine.

“ ~I luv you, mum.  Is suh good ya din es-plode at da Nasty burger~”

“Aw, Love you too, sweetie.”  She responded without missing a beat.  She gave her son a quick kiss on the top of his head and patted his hair without ever taking her eyes off the invention in front of her.

Sam and Tuck grabbed their friend by both arms and rushed him up the stairs.  It wasn’t hard, considering he was levitating again.

When they got him up to his room, they practically tossed him onto the bed and locked the door behind them.  Danny let out a little bit of muffled gibberish into his pillow and turned over, about to say something when suddenly his eyes rolled back into his head and he was out like a light.

“Next time, Ibuprofen.”  Sam muttered.

[boombboi]

a night in conversation

It was a solemn night, one so rare to appear after a mission of blood and terror. The bar was colored with muted lights, a somber atmosphere for a city as lively as Yokohama. Glasses clinked silently and quiet chatters roamed the four corners as if searching for a place to be, yearning for a place to rest.

Two people stepped inside the bar, the chatters stopped, only silence remained as knowing eyes surveyed the men dressed in blood and dirt.

The silence lasted a second, a suspenseful entrance.

Knowing eyes that know too much become corpses in the morning. So keeping quiet, always keeping quiet, the chatters returned.

It was rare a moment to see Dazai and Chuuya hanging out after a mission. It was even rarer for Chuuya to initiate this kind of conversation.

One, two, three glasses in.

"Why do you always wanna die?"

As if an answer has already been recorded, Dazai replied without a moment to spare, "Do you think there's any value in living?"

It was a question directed to himself.

Tipsy, his vision was getting a little bit blurry yet somehow, Chuuya managed to stay awake. "Value, huh?"

Chuuya twirled the drink in his hand. The ice clinked on to the glass, and as if starting a chain of harmonies that led to a surprisingly well-off musical, it provided a background rhythm to his words.

"What do you think value is? Do you think someone will give you a letter that says, 'this is the reason why you're living?' Don't make me laugh, bastard."

The receding liquid in Chuuya's glass seemed so interesting that his eyes fixated on it. "I was born into this world without any knowledge whatsoever so I don't think I was given any humane values when I came out."

Not with a destructive entity inside you. Never with a destructive entity living inside you.

Dazai stayed silent, awfully quiet as if becoming one with the tainted wallpapers stripping in and of itself of this old-timey bar.

Somehow also finding his partner's drink interesting, Dazai watched it closely as Chuuya sipped.

"In the end, we're gonna rot and die. Probably me before you."

Chuuya didn't know what he expected when he turned to Dazai and saw a subtly concerned face.

Arahabaki is a pain in the ass and Corruption destroys my body everytime I use it. Why are you acting like you're not aware of this?

"Chuuya-"

"Don't die before me, and don't die a lame death."

The bell rung, signifying another customer, and a wave of silence fell on them once more. Chuuya decided to leave with those words in the air, his glass echoed over the counter as he turned towards the door.

"Chuuya, do you think there's really any value in living?" A broken sound, different from before, directed to his partner.

"No one is handing out letters, Dazai. You make your own and write whatever you want."

Chuuya paused, anticipating the other's response.

Nothing.

"I've decided to kill you in the future. Look forward to it."

It was too solemn a night to fight, too solemn a night to argue. Dazai watched as Chuuya opened the door and disappeared.

Is there any value in living?

Recalling Chuuya's words, Dazai's mind fell into a silence.

No one is handing out letters, huh.

Dazai's lips curled into a smile.

"Guess I'll look forward to it."

tags @jessbeinme15 @chuuy-a @chuupire @confusedinsominiac @jesperisamfbicon @glittercrashhh @panic-at-the-gender @no-brain-just-akutagawa @deadmitochondria @galacticfairytheweeb @saintsprotecttheghoul @11nolongerhuman @boredotaku567 @bungoustraypups @akuutaguava @elvearryn @exi-stencil-ism @sophiliated @anxious-limp-noodle @ikin-y0u @missrown @miss-akutagawa @llanime @lillybet-the-overlord @jas-sea @flower-of-darkness @beautiful-is-boring @rirk-ke

i feel compelled to apologize for the tag but that aside, i hope you enjoy <3

[ezlebe]

Prompt - Tom taking care of drunk Greg

“What do we know now?” Tom asks, a bit condescending, as he slowly steers Greg to sit onto the bed.

“Radioactive black licorice,” Greg says, firmly and nonsensically, fumbling with his sleeves and cufflinks in clumsy fingers. “And it’s bad.”

Tom kneels while he slowly raises an eyebrow, taking Greg’s sleeve to undo the cufflink himself. “What does that – what are you doing?’

“I’m – um, reading your mind,” Greg whispers, far too close for the scent of his breath from where he’s now set his forehead against Tom’s with a noticeable squeeze shut of his eyes. He breaks into a slurring laugh. “It’s a – a sort of mess?”

“That’s just mean, Gregory,” Tom says, setting the cufflinks onto the side table. He slides Greg’s jacket off, then moves onto the shirt buttons with a reluctant tip of his head, lowering his voice into a murmur under his breath. “But I can see why you might think that.”

“Tommy,” Greg says, falling straight into the mawkish trap, dropping his head to Tom’s shoulder with a low hum of apology. He sits like that for a few seconds, until Tom is done with the shirt, then slumping away like a limp doll when Tom pushes him out to get the shirt off. “Only I – I can call you that.”

“You and my mother,” Tom says, for some reason, then winces a bit at the resulting implication. He’s pretty sure Greg is too blasted on absinthe – oh, radioactive licorice. Got it.

“No…” Greg shakes his head, mouth pinching into a sullen moue. “No, she doesn’t count.”

“Okay,” Tom says, pushing Greg further flat on his back and then frowning at the belt. He reaches out and taps at, then around the Gancini buckle, as a smirk curves at his mouth – this is not Greg’s belt. “You silly boy, what did you think this looked like?”

“Um?” Greg says, clumsily shifting up on his elbows to look down at his own groin, then offering a dumb smile. “Oh… it – like is… like handcuffs, right?”

Tom snorts and starts undoing it with a sharp raise of his brows. “May as well just give you a tin can, huh; you horny brat.”

Greg raises his brows and briefly puffs up his chest, visibly attempting to shift gears in a different direction. He fails a bit, because while he’s certainly flushed and making a cute face, he still looks a bit green around the gills.

“Nope. You’re about as alluring as a pool noodle, right now,” Tom says, but he reaches up and sweeps an appeasing pair of knuckles against Greg’s jaw. “A pool noodle soaked in shitty glorified gasoline.”

Greg groans and gives up, flattening against the sheets and surely staining them with the scent of liquor. “My head’s kind of…What if I – I like threw up?”

“We’d have to go to another room for the night,” Tom says, “But I would certainly worry less about you choking on it in your sleep.”

“You think – ” Greg blinks and looks briefly panicked, clasping like a damsel at his own chest. “Do I – I have alcohol poisoning?”

“No, buddy,” Tom says, though the idea hadn’t occurred to him, but Greg isn’t all clammy or too slurry, like Tom had seen unfortunately many times when he was younger and a bit more stupid. “You’re just totally thrashed and I have anxiety about your inconvenient genetic predispositions.”

“I-I know you do,” Greg says, leaning up and suddenly grasping Tom’s face, leaning in close to speak to him like he might Mondale. “And I’m, like – I respect it? It’s like okay, though. I’m like so much bigger than Kendall.”

“Okay?” Tom says, rolling his eyes a bit, then carefully extracting himself with a pair of hands squeezing into Greg’s palms. He throws the belt away and yanks Greg’s trousers completely off, standing up while shaking them out and – yeah, there’s an unfortunate ash burn in the thigh. Great.

“Because… um, we had like the same amount?” Greg says, with those wide imploring eyes that he uses when he’s trying to convince them both. “But, you know, there’s more of me?”

Tom hums with a dubious tilt of his head, looking down at his own cufflinks to pull from his jacket. “So I should worry about Kendall?”

“Like, maybe?” Greg says, voice fading while he slumps back flat with a sudden melancholy. “I kind of aways... worry about him.”

Tom tips his head to the other side to acknowledge that with a low hum. He takes off his jacket and hangs it in the bathroom, contemplating taking a shower to sober himself up a bit more, but also a little worried he might come out to find Greg in the peanut butter, again, trying to share the spoon with a thankfully polite Mondale.

Actually, where is – ?

Mondale thumps his tail, when Tom peeks into the sitting room to find him on his bed against the wall of windows. He doesn’t get up, though, so good to know that these days even the dog is just humoring him.

Greg is sitting up and rubbing at his face in circles when Tom comes back into the room. “Sorry, I’m not being a – like, a good plus one? I got so drunk. But, but Kendall, you know.”

Tom leans down and soothes a hand through Greg’s hair, shaking his head. “Family aside, you’re a great plus one. Strangers find you astonishingly endearing and unthreatening, because you’re such a good fake that way, which makes me look very good.”

Greg reaches out and clutches at Tom’s shirt, not really pulling, so much as following along as Tom gets in bed, then pressing his face into his shirtcollar. “Yeah?”

Tom hums an affirmative, shifting their positions, so Greg is curling up on top of him, then sweeping Greg’s loose hair across his forehead. “You know I what I like best, though?”

Greg rolls his head against Tom’s shoulder, peeking blearily up through his lashes. “No?”

Tom turns his head, smacking a kiss against Greg’s forehead. “Getting to come home with you.”

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

-

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

[noxnthea]

Winterhawk ficlet: “Our signs don’t align!” + astrology + established relationship + outsider POV + dumpster fire Clint + background Kate/Yelena/America wc: 1050

~~~

Clint walks out from his room the next day, his hair a mess, an astrology book in hand. 

Kate looks up from her seat on the couch — he's even more of a zombie than normal, and she's pretty sure he hasn't realized she's in the room. 

It takes thirty minutes and three cups of coffee before Clint emerges from his stupor. He lifts his head up slowly from where he's been staring at a single page for the past cup and a half, then blinks as he notices Kate for the first time. 

“Katie,” he says, voice filled with way too much mourning for a sunshine Saturday afternoon, "A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?" 

Kate glances away for the half second it takes her to school her expression. This is going better than she could have hoped. “Bucky is water sign.” 

Clint chokes out a sob. “I know. Still waters run deep. And I’m nothing but a flighty fucking air sign.” 

Oh god. This is pitiful. Kate’s in heaven. 

She tightens the twist of her lips to keep from laughing. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. Geminis are known to be, hmm, what’s a nice way to say this… wishy-washy.” 

“I so am, oh my god," Clint moans into his mug. “Do you know what Co-Star says my best career options would be? Do you know?? It says I would make a good Twitter personality. A Twitter personality, Kate! What the fuck can a Twitter personality offer Bucky? A Pisces best jobs include volunteer therapists and amateur poets. Those aren’t even on the same level. I’ll never be enough for him.” 

Kate thinks about how the website she sent to Clint also says Pisces would make good “sad clowns” and “orbs of light”, or the fact that both Clint and Bucky are gainfully employed as full-time superheroes, but resists pointing that out. Instead, she says, “Yeah, totally. Did you see the part that talks about how Pisces like to be romanced with classic novels in the park and handwritten love letters? Yikes, man, I don’t think you’ve ever done that for Bucky, have you.” 

Clint stares into his mug as though it’s the end of the world, and his death awaits him after his last sip. “You mean the part right above where it talks about how they attract people with bad boundaries who take advantage of their compassion? Kate, it’s me. I have no boundaries. I’m the one who takes advantage of his compassion.” 

Kate winces, pulling in a breath between her teeth. “Well, you’re the one who said it…” 

Clint closes his eyes, inhales. “You know who else is a Gemini? Kanye fucking West. You know who else is a Pisces? Rihanna. I’m the Kanye to his Rihanna. I never wanted this. I’m going to ruin him.” 

“I dunno,” Kate says. “I think Pisces are used to heartbreak and trauma. Bucky definitely is.” 

Clint slips off of his chair, spooling like a limp noodle onto the floor of the living room. He throws one arm over his face, the other clattering backwards against an end table. “But I don’t wanna break his heart.” 

Kate bites her fist to keep herself from crying in laughter. She can feel her face heating up; it’s probably freaking purple. Giving Clint that website and that book was the best idea she’s ever had. She takes a second to compose herself. “I dunno, Clint, sounds like your relationship is — “ 

The door to the apartment swings open, and there’s a loud skittering of paws as Lucky slip-slides across the concrete floor, landing with a crash on top of Clint. Clint wraps his arms around the dog, pressing his face into his fur, groaning out mostly incomprehensible sentences. Kate catches “I don’t deserve your love,” and “how could I believe — ” and “I knew it all— .” 

Bucky walks into the room a moment later, freezing when he takes stock of the situation. 

Kate tries to keep her laughter back, and it comes out as a half-choked snort.

“…Clint?” Bucky asks softly, murder brows furrowed in Kate’s direction, as though that’s ever done anything to intimidate her. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” 

There’s a beat, then Clint mutters something deep into Lucky’s belly that Kate’s unenhanced hearing doesn’t pick up. 

“What was that?” Bucky tentatively steps into the room, looking absolutely baffled. “You’re a, I’m a — what?” 

Clint rolls out from under Lucky, and groans, fatalistic, “I’m a bird, Bucky, and you’re a fish, and I’m never going to make you happy!” 

 Kate can’t decide if he looks more like a toddler throwing a tantrum or a pirate walking to the end of a gangplank over a sea that’s swarming with sharks. Both? Yeah, both. 

Bucky sighs, then looks at Kate. 

She takes pity on him. “I introduced him to astrology yesterday and he found out that your signs don’t align.” 

An entire spectrum of emotions flashes across Bucky’s face, before finally settling on a sickening exasperated fondness that makes Kate want to vomit. 

He marches over to Clint and sits on the floor next to him, forcibly pulling Clint’s gangly body into his lap. “Clint,” he says, patient, “We’ve been together for five years. We got engaged six months ago. We’re getting married in three weeks. You know you make me happy.” 

“Yeah, but the stars say I’m bad at commitment!” 

The glare Bucky shoots Kate over the top of Clint’s head promises swift retribution. 

She decides that it’s a good time to take her leave. 

She skedaddles out of the apartment as Bucky starts listing all the ways Clint’s proven himself to be perfectly capable of committing to the people he cares about. She pulls out her phone, where several texts in a group message are waiting. 

Star Spangled Sweetheart: how’d it go???? 👀👀👀 Assassinate My Heart: It is Clint. It surely went hilariously.  Star Spangled Sweetheart: okay yeah but I need details.  Star Spangled Sweetheart: did he cry? please tell me he cried.  Assassinate My Heart: He definitely cried Assassinate My Heart: Lunch at 2 at Montellos. You can tell us about it then? I want the gore.  Star Spangled Sweetheart: gory details, Yels.  Assassinate My Heart: I want the gore. Assassinate My Heart: 🩸🔪💀 Assassinate My Heart: 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Kate grins, then starts typing.

World’s Best Archer: don’t worry guys, I can do you one better. World’s Best Archer: I got his whole breakdown on video. 

Star Spangled Sweetheart: !!!! holy SHIT Assassinate My Heart: This is why you are perfect, котик World’s Best Archer: dancing-cowboy-fingerguns.gif 

~~~ ficlet #4 of @ladyladylady1's birthday week! Also, a uh, 5 month belated gift for @bekala, who was the first person to make me think about how Kate would 100000% fuck with Clint this way.

[tehrevving]

Can I Bother You To Stay?

My first foray into Heisendaddy hell lmao.

This is dedicated to the absolutely huge brain of the wonderful @queenmuzz, who mentioned that electromagnetic fields might be able to affect your brain waves.

Heisenberg x Neutral Reader. Sex (Reader is penetrated). Brain Orgasms. lmao. Enjoy!

There’s a faint buzzing in the back of your head whenever Karl Heisenberg gets angry. It starts off weak, a tingling of warning at the very base of your skull that grows stronger as he seethes and rages. You’re thankful for it, it probably saved your life back in the early days of living with him. If the buzzing is intense, constant, then you know to leave the room, but on the rare occasions where it’s not so strong, it’s much easier to just walk towards him, press your hands to his chest, and kiss him until he calms down. 

You’d noticed the buzzing at other times too, times when you were sure he wasn’t angry. You’d feel occasional bouts of it during the day, but then also late at night, when he should be asleep. You’d wondered idly what that feeling might be, and what was causing it, but hadn’t thought too much about it, until of course the tension between you had finally snapped, and then it had all made sense. 

Now you feel a pleasant buzzing every time you sit on Heisenberg’s lap and kiss him until he’s breathless. It grows stronger, a hum that radiates warmth through your body, when you start grinding yourself against him, and breathing heavily in his ear. 

Last night, when, for the very first time you’d sank down between his legs and taken his cock down your throat, the buzzing had gotten stronger. A sharp, desperate hum, vibrating at the same frequency as the metal floating and shaking in the room as he’d reached his peak. When he’d finally come it was utter euphoria, heat spreading through you from the base of your skull as you struggled to swallow down his release as your legs shook from the intensity of it all.

And then tonight, as he presses you against the mattress, skin against skin. As he hikes your legs up on his shoulder and grunts heated praises against your ear while he buries his cock inside of you. The buzzing makes it the best sex you’ve ever had. 

His grip is rough, and he’s not gentle, even though he’s trying to be. His calloused hands are heavy against your high, your leg bent so he can sink as far inside of you as he can. He’s strong, and the heft of him bears down on you, skin slick with sweat sliding against your own. His beard rubs roughly at your neck, a comforting static that compliments the white noise swirling in your skull. 

The closer that he gets to his release, the closer that you get to your own, the more intense the buzzing becomes. As his groans grow breathier, and his hand on your leg tightens and shakes. As the coil in your belly tightens unbearably, white noise dances across your vision, and pulses in your head in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuckin, gonna,” he chokes out, tendons and veins popping out of his neck as he strains. You know he’s close, you can feel it. The buzzing is almost unbearable now, overstimulating your senses. You press your fingers into the scarred skin of his back, begging him not to stop. You dig your nails in to ground yourself as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, and he roars as static starts to white out your vision. 

His hips begin to stutter, his weight pressing against you. He tries to force himself as deep inside of you as he can. His body shakes with the effort of holding himself up, of holding himself together. The iron bed frame underneath you begins to rattle, and the air in the room grows thick and charged from his power. 

You feel his orgasm as intensely as your own. The pleasure crashes through you and pounds through your brain. You lose yourself in the bursting fractals of feeling, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your own orgasm is there, throbbing desperately between your legs, but his is there as well, bursting against the base of your neck and tingling down your spine. You forget how to breathe, how to exist, and all of your senses fade away as you float in ultimate euphoria. 

The buzzing eventually dissolves into pleasant, tingly aftershocks. You feel alive, content, exhausted. Your hearing returns first, and you notice almost panicked murmurs of your name, but the voice is deep and comforting, and sates the haze in your head. Your body returns to you next, you’re warm, even though sweat is cooling on your skin.Then your vision returns, and you’re met with the stunning, scarred face of your lover. 

You reach up, your arms pathetic, limp noodles, and cup his cheek. His hand immediately covers your own, rough calluses and scars warm against you. He holds you like this for a while, relishing in the afterglow while the panic fades from his face. You watch as the stress lines on his forehead soften for the first time since you’ve known him. 

“You okay?” he asks you, turning his head to kiss your palm. 

You nod.

“You sure? Looked like you had a fucking seizure. Terrified me.”

You tilt your head at him, thinking, struggling to find words. He doesn’t rush you, adjusting on the bed instead so that he’s lying back. He pulls you to his chest and strokes your hair while you bury into the soft warmth of his chest. 

Your voice is weak when you finally find the words. “Your powers do something to my brain when you come.”

He laughs, “really?”

“Feels so fucking good,” you mumble against hs chest.

He kisses your forehead, and nuzzles against your hair. “Rest for now, and we can talk about it later.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Did you enjoy it?”

You can feel him smile against your hair. “Yeah, best damn lay of my life,” he chuckles and looks down at you, noticing that you’re already almost asleep. He tightens his arms around you, his warmth comforting, reassuring. You find yourself quickly drifting off, the buzzing in your head gentle and reassuring now, as it lulls you to sleep.