#Thank you for hosting this Shi!

[reneethegreatandpowerful]

Gautier Family Week Day 5- Free Day

Woop woop! I made it in time! >:D Making this made me very happy.

I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to be stuck in such close quarters with stinky scary bandit man!

[lazycranberrydoodles]

fanart of @poorly-drawn-mdzs’ mdzs and x-files crossover!!!

also -

[cassianfanclub]

@elainarcheronweek Day 4- Home🩷

“Home is wherever I’m with you”

When I think of home for Elain, it’s clear that her home is with her people- her sisters, nephew, BILs, friends, and Az.

From Az and Elain’s very first meeting, it was clear there was a connection, a comfort. After just a few minutes, Elain was looking to Az for an understanding of the situation and already felt comfortable enough to take her cues from him.

Since that moment, it’s become more and more clear that Az has already become a big part of what makes up Elain’s idea of home. From releasing her from her murky realm, to saving her, to seeking out her company, they both find peace in each other’s presence. Elain never shies away from Az, or shrinks into herself when he’s around.

I wanted a piece of art that represented one of my favorite moments of Az and Elain. It may not seem like much to some, but to me, them quietly spending time together, doing mundane things, is truly what home is. When someone is your home, there’s no pressure to entertain, no pressure to host, no pressure to extend your social battery. Home, while bold and beautiful, can also be quiet and intimate. And it’s exactly why Az and Elain are perfect for one another and I cannot wait to see them continue to find home in one another in the next ACOTAR book.

A huge thank you to @elainemg97 for creating such a beautiful piece for me!! It’s stunning and perfectly captures this moment from ACOWAR 💕

Please do not repost

[chosos-mascara]

good girl

𝙩𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after accompanying toji to the zen'in residence, he wants to thank you.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cunnilingus, toji calls reader a good girl, fingering, dom!toji, dilf!toji

minors + ageless dni 1.4k words

"Wanna get out of here?" The voice beside you asked, and for a moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. Swirling your legs in the pool, you bunched your dress in one hand, standing, wet feet leaving footprints on the concrete beneath them as you picked up your heels. Without the extra height, Toji had appeared much larger - not just taller, but broader, too. The rolled up sleeves of his white button down had exposed strong forearms, an outline of veins coursing under the skin, and as your gaze had drifted upwards, you ogled over the bulge beneath the thin cotton, humps of muscle displaying the discipline Toji had over his physique. 

He brought you through the side gate of the garden, a quick exit doused in secrecy as the pair of you had made way to his car, the sleek black vehicle within your sights bringing relief over you.  "I didn't think they were a bunch'a misogynists." Toji sighed, turning the key in the engine before pulling away, accelerating quickly to make it back to his apartment.  "It's fine." Your reply was quiet as you twiddled with the straps on the heels in your lap, watching the night pass by the windows. 

Toji had brought you to the Zen'in's, a classy meal hosted by none other than Naoya scheduled to introduce Toji back into the family, an attempt at recovering what they'd lost. Of course, that had referred to Megumi and his inheritance of the clan's technique, less so to Toji, and not at all to yourself. Not that you'd wanted to be a part of the deal anyway, but you'd wanted to offer moral support to your partner. The night had gone sour within an hour, and you'd been thankful the pair of you'd left Megumi with Gojo instead of bringing him, too. 

After an outburst from Naoya, you'd gone to sit in the garden, dipping your toes into the pool to have a moment of solace. There had been shouting shortly after, before the door had slid open and Toji had come to save you from the hell-hole the pair of you'd had to walk within. 

"Thanks for joining me, anyways." Toji spoke one you'd dragged yourselves through the door and into the apartment. He'd felt a pang of guilt for what you'd had to hear while within the Zen'in's presence, a bunch of old bastards with the newest scumbag appearing to surpass the others within the 'slimey rat' department. "You're too good to me." Voice barely a whisper, he brought two hands to your face, a light kiss planted to your forehead. 

"I am." You giggled, smiling. Looking up to his face, you took a moment to admire his features, the thin green eyes, scar over his lip. At times like this, you'd felt as if in the presence of a God rather than a man, his natural beauty striking.  "Wanna show you how amazin' you are," Toji placed a kiss over you again, fingers tightening over your cheeks when his lips met your skin. After a few pecks, he pulled back, watching as you shied away under his hands, warmth bestowed into them as you'd been flushed with embarrassment. "-such a good girl." 

Toji knew his praise is what you'd valued most, his approval, his opinion. You'd put him on a pedestal since you'd started dating, something Toji couldn't understand but had appreciated, every second with you, he'd felt safe. He'd felt loved. All Toji had wanted to do was show you how much you'd meant to him too; usually through acts of service.  His lips trailed to your jawbone, flowing to your neck and taking the thicker skin between his teeth, sure to leave marks to be seen in the morning. With your head tiled back, you accepted his display of worship, goosebumps scattering across your arms as his fingers dragged over the silk dress, pulling at the hem and rolling the sleeves from your shoulders. 

With the fabric falling to pool at your feet, Toji knelt before you. Still in the hall beside the front door, you'd leant against the wall as he'd taken one of your legs, knee bending over his shoulder as he planted gentle kisses on your inner thigh, your hands weaving into his hair. The black locks wrapped around your fingers, and when tugging on the roots, he'd exhaled a breath to fan over your thigh, sending shivers over your spine. Toji moved the cotton of your panties to the side, a broad finger running across your slit, the tip teasing into your hole, only shallowly sitting before he'd chuckled, corner of his mouth curving.  "So wet f'r me." The sentence had been short lived, his lips suddenly attaching to the sopping cunt before him to lap up the fluids he'd coaxed from you with his kisses. 

His name tumbled from your mouth as he'd swirled over your clit, a gentle groan when he'd tasted your arousal, finger finally slipping into you to curl in and out in synchrony with his tongue's movements. Before long, the obscene sounds of his finger plunging deep into your cunt, mixing with wetness and saliva had filled the walls you'd resided within, heavy breaths and contorted expression as your head hit the wall behind you. If Toji hadn't steadied you with his free hand, the brick supporting your weight with your leg atop his shoulder, you'd have fallen, knees week. 

Your heavy lids opened to glance at his face between your thighs, tousled black hair falling over his head, eyes fixed on your gaze, mouth wide and tongue flickering over you. The eye contact had made you uneasy for a few moments, but when his mouth had curved upward into a smirk while still open and lapping at your juices, you'd pushed aside the embarrassment. Below his face, you could see the movement of his wrist as his fingers had bullied in and out of you, clenching around him when laying eyes on the sight before you. 

He pulled back, face thick with sheen, smile wide. The digits remained at the pace they'd worked at previously, though he'd stretched a thumb upward to graze over our clit, making up for the lack of contact from his tongue. Toji pressed a few open mouth kisses on your thigh, head tilted to the side and mouth still pressed to your skin as he spoke aloud once more.  "Do you know how much you mean t' me?" His voice was rough, doused in raggedness as his chest had risen and fallen at a slightly increased pace - he'd been putting in work for your pleasure.  "I feel c-close Toj'." You'd whined, hips bucking as you'd tugged at his locks once more, desperately trying to get his lips back over your clit.  "I'll let you cum baby, jus' do one thing f'r me." Toothy grin, he'd spoken, another nip at the fat of your leg. A whine fell from you, profuse nodding while you'd fought to keep your eyes open and locked to his.  "Tell me you're a good girl. Let me hear you say it." His voice, hoarse and raspy, accompanied by a curl of his fingers, brushing against your g-spot, you hiccuped, gritting teeth before completing his request.  "I-I'm a good girl. Your good girl." Once the phrase had been spoken, his tongue was back on your clit, and you slackened up, finally allowing yourself to release the build up within your body. 

Toji allowed you to ride through your orgasm, stuttered humps over his face accompanied by sweet whines; music to his ears. He'd drank every bit of juice you'd offered him, relishing the taste even after your high had fizzled out, sucking at your folds. One thing about Toji, is that he'd never let a drop of you go to waste, often humming at the sensation of being between your legs, tongue plush to pussy. 

[demonicbaby666]

The Couch

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Supercorp

Genre: Fluff and eventual smut

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, Kara being an absolute cutie ig, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation (it's unintentional)

Summary: Just two friends casually sleeping together far too regularly on a worn-out couch. What could go wrong?

A/n: She’s not perfect, but it’s been a month and I desperately needed to get something out there! Promise to be more on my writing game. Also a big thank you to my wife @hotchscvm for being my beta reader and hyping me up <3

The first time was an accident. After too many potstickers (on Kara's part) and too many pages read from her spell book (on Lena's part), they'd ended up on the couch, dozing side by side. In retrospect, it was late, and while staying up to spend more time with each other sounded like a good idea, it probably would have been a better idea to host the impromptu feast at one of their apartments. But that is neither here nor there because the fact still remained: they'd always feel so at home with each other that falling asleep on concrete would probably come as easy as it would a plump mattress. 

Sometime in the night, Lena had managed to topple over on her side, taking her best friend down with her, and either Kara was too exhausted to care or too sleepy to notice because the half-arsed excuse of a cuddle was taken in kind with one muscled arm slipping around a curved waist. Kara had never shied away from intimacy, especially with Lena, but as she groggily slung her arm around her best friend, happily snuggling into her fragrant neck, the beginnings of something very not platonic began tampering away in her chest. It all felt daunting, yet wonderfully and irrefutably natural. 

Everything was all well and good for a while. They both slept better than they had in weeks. That was until a few hours later, when the sun had just started to peak over neighbouring spires, and the pair rose from their sleep to discover the true meaning of back pain. Of course, neither pointed out that if they had gone home rather than finished the duration of their uncomfortable slumber in each other's embrace, the agony would have been much more manageable. Still, once again, this was never mentioned. Instead, Lena took to teasing Kara about the drool drying at the corner of her mouth, and Kara's rebuttal was to mention the bird's nest atop Lena's head.

The second time was a week later when Kara returned from a nightly patrol to find Lena snoozing alone. The brunette had taken advantage of the couch's full length; her legs bent to accommodate the sparse leg room, and she had a cushion wedged under her head that had definitely seen better days. Other than that, Kara was reasonably convinced Lena seemed comfortable. Kara did try not to stare, but after minutes spent wandering about and trying to find something to do, and there definitely was bound to be something if she was actually looking as hard as she had convinced herself she was, Kara relented and returned to Lena. 

She watched as the brunette's chest rhythmically rose and fell, how her mouth was slightly parted to allow tiny sighs to tumble out, and couldn't help but smile as her chest warmed at the sight of the way Lena had her arm flung over her forehead, hand flying over the side of the couch. It was a sign, Kara recognised, that meant Lena was, for once, having a rested sleep rather than the usual - broken and fragmentary. That was why she told herself she didn't wake her or risk it by flying her home. There was nothing selfish about it. In fact, she was being selfless by relishing the notion she was probably one of the very few people who got to see Lena that way - open and bare, not always on guard or the look for any sign of danger. Of course, Kara saw glimpses of it when they were together, but it was rare. So, getting to truly see Lena when she was so unguarded was remarkable in Kara's eyes. 

It felt right when she walked over and knelt beside the roughspun fabric of the couch to get a closer look, like there was some injustice to picking out the details of such a pretty picture from afar that had been corrected. Now, if it had been anyone else, Kara would have worried her behaviour was bordering on creepy. Still, it was Lena, her Lena, and simply listening to that strong, steady heartbeat warmed Kara's chest. It quieted all the clattering and commotion of National City. The conversations, the arguments, the music, the car engines, everything fell silent to Lena's familiar heartbeat, and Kara would be damned to ever apologise for finding calm in that, so she continued to watch. That, she could admit, was selfish. 

As much as sleep may dull one's senses, Lena was becoming keenly aware she wasn't alone. Usually, her first instinct would be to fight, but when she blinked her eyes open and was met with the human version of a golden retriever, she couldn't help but smile sleepily. 

"Hi," Kara whispered, placing both knuckles under her chin and continuing to stare with childlike wonder sparkling in her eyes. 

"Hi," Lena replied weakly. Only she found she was not weak from sleep or the dull ache in her cramped legs. She was weak from the way Kara was staring. It made her feel naked and exposed like she was on trial for the crime of being known and still loved. She saw it in those blue eyes - pure adoration and devotion, and it terrified her how Kara could look at her like that when she'd seen her at her worst, when she'd hurt Kara in unforgivable ways and carried the same genes as people who damn near wanted her dead. 

She was weak for losing herself in the blue whirls of her best friend's eyes, the golden flecks that circled her pupils - yet another thing that made her seem unreal. Her fingers twitched as she mentally traced the little scar by Kara's left eyebrow, wanting desperately to reach out and feel the mark of a distant memory from Krypton. Lena thought better of it, knowing the intimacy of the act would mean stepping into dangerous territory. Instead, she shuffled to the side, cramming herself against the back of the couch and extending a silent invitation, one Kara understood immediately, and if her joyous smile was anything to go by, she was more than happy to accept. 

Kara lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think of how good it felt to have the warmth of Lena's body so close. After a few minutes in her log-like position, she cautiously raised an arm in question. The proximity between them was nil, so what was the damage in being a little closer? Her bravery was instantly rewarded with a weight falling on her chest and a slim finger tracing the raised fabric along her chest. And as many a time before, everything around her, except Lena, ceased to exist, and Kara found herself lulled by the steady thrum of a familiar heartbeat. 

The third time, Kara told herself, it was completely and utterly necessary. Suppose she didn't comfort Lena when she felt like utter shit. It would quite literally be the end of the world. She was sure of it. Solely because of that, Kara hunted the brunette down, finding her in a dimly lit room, a set of fresh tears trickling slowly down her cheeks. A series of angry lines marked Lena's blanched cheeks rouge, the colour of heartbreaking remembrance. There was a distinct look in her eyes, resembling a wounded pup. Only Lena had never been helpless like one. She'd been alone the majority of her adult life, fighting. And she'd come out the other end stronger for it; that was undeniable, but what would always remain were the chronic wounds of her hardships. 

Kara remained in the doorway, unsure her presence would be welcome. The more she saw, the heavier her chest felt. The details were the worst: the way Lena clasped her hands so tightly together, yet they still shook, the glossed-over sheen to her eyes, the way her jaw shook with each silent cry, and most of all, the raw hiccups that only Kara could pick up, wearing away at Lena's throat every time she tried to keep herself quiet. 

Clearing her throat, Kara lightly padded over. The brunette's mind was so far away that by the time Kara was crouching down and delicately separating her woven hands, taking each within her own, she'd just about registered that she was no longer alone looking with puffy eyes. Kara tried to offer a sympathetic smile, but it was excruciatingly painful when the woman she adored radiated so much pain she felt within herself, too. She was helplessly searching her mind for something to say, anything that could encompass what Lena was feeling or take it all away, but she knew nothing in her vocabulary could. 

Kara got to her feet, taking Lena with her. There was no complaint. Lena simply complied, no energy left in her to fight, no reason to fight someone wholly trusted. She let herself be taken from one room and led into another, her mind turned off and tuned only to how soft the hand guiding her forward felt - how it was already calming her racing pulse. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kara asked, sitting down on the far side of the couch, encouraging Lena to join her by keeping their hands clasped. Lena followed willingly, though she kept quiet, staring at the margin between the couch cushions, each frayed piece of string taking her interest individually. 

Kara gave Lena a once over, this time honing into every detail as quickly as possible so Lena didn't feel uncomfortable. She noticed a handful of things: the shine to Lena's hair was no longer there, and her perfume was only vaguely present, but what Kara saw first was the darkened ring under Lena's swollen eyes, and that's when she gathered what had been happening. 

"It's the nightmares again, isn't it?" Kara quietly asked, squeezing Lena's hand once, twice, and holding tight to show this was in no way an invasion of privacy but a rope for the brunette to take so Kara could help pull her out of the pit she'd fallen into. A tiny whimper confirmed her guess, and that's when Kara took action. She ignored Lena's creased brow when she untangled their hands, scootched closer, looped her arms around Lena's waist and hauled her onto her lap. It was a risky move, given that this was most definitely not the most platonic position. However, any fear and regret instantly faded when she heard a sigh and felt Lena's head nestle into her neck. She held her tight and let Lena take whatever she needed from the embrace. Gently, Kara used one hand to brush through chestnut hair, keeping one hand around a slim waist. Emboldened by Lena's willingness, Kara lowered her head, turned it to the side, and kissed her barely visible cheek. 

"Can we stay here tonight?" Lena finally whispered, and Kara's whole body responded in kind, buzzing in anticipation. 

"Of course," she replied into the silky softness of Lena's hair. She breathed in, knowing before the exact scents that would coax their way through her airways, only to erupt into a swarming storm in her stomach - herbal shampoo complemented by nodes of bittersweet honey tea, the kind you'd drink when trees began to lose their leaves and your body hadn't yet adjusted to the drop in temperature. "Whatever you need, Lee, I'll do it."

"You, Kara Zor-el, are my hero, not Supergirl, you," Lena pulled back to confess, her worn-out eyes glinting in low light as she stared intently, watching Kara's eyes gaze right back. They stayed staring for seconds, a minute; neither knew. They simply accepted that it didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel awkward, it felt safe and warm, like coming back home after a trainwreck of a day or seeing the sun finally peak from behind the rainclouds. 

Finally, Lena ducked back down and allowed herself to let go, wetting Kara's neck with a fresh set of tears. 

After that, it became a weekly occurrence, then bi-weekly, tri-weekly and well, then they didn't bother trying to count how many times a week they found excuses to fall asleep in each other's arms. The couch grew new additions that no one mentioned but thoroughly enjoyed: a luxuriously soft blanket folded neatly over the side, a kitschy cushion from Kara's apartment and new upholstery. Neither spoke of their shared nights, not even with each other. It became taboo, a dirty secret between two willing participants. They both knew that, for one reason or another, they were crossing boundaries, leading them into dangerous territory. However, not acknowledging it seemed enough to fend off the intrusive thoughts. 

After a particularly long day at the tower, Kara and Lena found themselves in the same place they had always wound up in when everyone had left. Their limbs entangled, and their bodies so close Lena was essentially lying atop Kara, with her head comfortably nestled on the blonde's chest. Usually, the pair would find sleep quickly enough, but something was different that night. Sleep didn't come so easy, with the day's events weighing heavy. 

"What are you thinking about," Kara asked, breaking the comfortable quietude.

Lena didn't have to think twice before answering, "How I never want to lose you." 

There were a few bouts of silence. Kara let Lena's words sink in before speaking again, "What do you mean?" 

"Every day, you go out and protect the people of this world, even if it means risking your own life." Lena mindlessly played with the collar of Kara's sweater, trying to casualise the severity of what she was saying. Kara could sense the tension brewing in Lena and began to draw soothing circles up and down her back. 

"It's who I am, Lee. My powers mean I can help people; it's my duty to do so," Kara sighed, pressing her lips to Lena's head. 

"I know. But I just worry I won't see you fly back through the tower doors, that I won't be able to do enough to help you, and I'll lose the only person that's ever seemed to," she paused, the l word anxiously sitting on her tongue. "That I'll lose the one person who has always stood by me. It's selfish, I know." 

A tidal wave of emotions washed over Kara. She stayed motionless for at least a minute, processing all Lena had said, and failed to say. 

"Lena, look at me," she ordered. 

They were both helplessly reminding themselves that this is what friends do: they're allowed to cuddle, they're allowed to fall asleep together, and they're allowed to feel like they complete each other in a way no one else probably could. The pure definition of slumber parties is deep conversations where confessions are made, so of course, this is all normal and strictly platonic and nothing more. Except when their eyes met, the look they shot at one another was anything but friendly. It was desperate and demanding, taking all the oxygen out of the room and leaving them breathless. Kara could hear Lena's heartbeat, frantic, from anticipation, excitement, or fear, she didn't know. 

"I will never leave you. I'm not going anywhere." 

"You can't promise me that." 

Kara cupped Lena's cheeks in her palms, gently holding her still, "You're right, I can't, but I can promise that I will always fight to come back home to the people I love– to come back to you." Her eyes flickered between Lena's eyes and lips. "I love you, Lena."

"You don't have to say that," Lena choked out. 

"I meant it," she stated in a hushed voice, eyes firmly planted on soft lips. "Lena, come here." 

"Kara," Lena pleaded in a weak whisper, battling the fuzzy feeling that was stirring beneath her fingertips. Lena could scarcely breathe, her throat constricting with each passing second because Kara was looking at her the same way she always did, and she was so very weak to stop herself from looking back and letting the air be stolen from her lungs. Kara pulled her closer until their lips were a hair's width away, and then she chose to wait. Her intentions were clear, but she knew it had to be Lena who would make the final move. And she did. Lena closed the minimal space between their lips, ignoring the rapid pace of her thudding heart. As expected, Kara's lips were perfect, acceptant to let Lena take the lead and demanding nothing in return. 

Soon enough, both got lost in the delicacy of a slow makeup session. Kara made a great effort to reign in her zeal, only encouraging Lena with a slide of her hands down to a supple waist and aiding the brunette atop her when she heard no protest. The two found themselves upright, Lena's knees cocooning Kara's hips, their core pressed against one another enough to raise their body temperatures. With the slide of the super's tongue along a plump lip and the compliant opening of the brunette's mouth, their slow and tempered kiss tilted more towards eager and desperate. Kara had scarcely noticed her hands sliding down to grip Lena's ass. She wholly gave herself to instinct and desire, guiding Lena back and forth in a grinding motion. 

"Kara," Lena moaned, throwing her head back and struggling to hold herself still when Kara instantly went to suckle at her neck. "Not here. Take me home." 

The blonde didn't need to be told twice; she hauled herself up, taking Lena with her, and allowed the other woman's feet to briefly touch the ground before she picked her up bridal style and shot out the balcony doors. The city was bursting with life. Laughter echoed off every surface and bounced up into the night sky. The noise sought to pollute Kara's senses, yet the blonde didn't even have to try to fight off the background noise because all she was focused on was Lena's smile, and her residing bouts of childlike laughter. It was perfection - holding Lena close, feeling her body heat against the crisp evening wind. 

All the withheld desire flooded their senses the moment they landed on Lena's balcony. Kara burst into the apartment, brain muddled with the ghostly feel of velvety lips all over her throat. She used her super speed to whisk them to the bedroom, gently placing Lena down and climbing atop her. 

"Hi," Lena whispered, searching Kara's eyes for regret or hesitation. 

"Hi." The super leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Lena's lips before pushing herself back up to hover and smile, ridding her best friend of any doubt. 

"Can I?" Lena asked, her hands under Kara's sweater, bunching the material between her palms. 

"Yes." But Kara didn't appear to have the patience for Lena's gentle touch as she yanked the offending garment over her head and ducked right back down to Lena's neck, lowering her lips to the birthmark that always looked so darn kissable and did just that. 

They set their tasks to removing articles of clothing, revealing more and more of themselves to each other, taking turns to stare awestruck before returning to the matter at hand. Kara took her sweet time unclasping Lena's bra if only to charge to the impending reveal she'd been waiting years for. 

"Beautiful," Kara whispered, eyes fixed on Lena. "You're perfect."

She didn't let the brunette get a word in, not that Lena stood a chance when lips had already surrounded her pert nipple and a tongue darted out to move in tight circles. Kara was ravenous. She moved from breast to breast at lightning speed, giving each the full treatment until Lena was mewling and cantering her hips. It was when she felt the slickness of need touch her stomach that Kara ventured south. With each methodical kiss, Kara shuffled lower and lower, finally arriving and comfortably settling herself between creamy thighs. 

Contrary to Kara's expectations, Lena was not fighting to be in charge. She allowed Kara to play around and find what got the most promising reactions. However, it seemed to be less trial and error and more constantly hitting the nail on the head because after what must have only been half a minute, Lena was practically writhing, and Kara was all but lost in the rich, sharp tastes coating her tongue. She'd found her pace and her pattern, starting with slow, pointed licks to Lena's clit, occasionally running the stiff muscle down to drive into her sopping cunt before moving back up and taking the bundle of nerves into her mouth and lathering it with the flat of her tongue. Kara kept this up, falling in love with all the ways Lena would respond: her low-pitched moans, her bucking hips, the way her thighs would clamp around Kara’s head when she used the heel of her foot to urge the blonde closer. It was heaven, and Kara never wanted it to end. 

She was vaguely aware Lena was reaching her peak, the hand in her hair tightening, fingers coiling locks of hair in a firm grip. It spurred her on. Kara only moved faster, messily lapping up every inch of Lena's pussy until the brunette sprung up from the bed and let out a cry. Kara was greedy, though; she slowed down, gently lapping up the mess left behind, only to devour Lena all over again. From the moment Kara heard the sounds Lena unleashed when she entered her with two fingers, she was a goner. All she knew was Lena's sweaty body, her accelerated heartbeat, the clamping around her fingers and the harmonious cries of pleasure. She kept going and going. Harder. Faster. 

"Kara," Lena whimpered, her breathing heavily laboured and her heart pounding. She used her grip on Kara's hair to pry her away. "You've got to stop."

"Are you okay?" Kara reeled back to ask. She scanned Lena once over, fear evident in her eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

"No! No, of course not. You just made me cum four times in a row, darling. I think I may pass out if you keep going." Lena seemed dazed but happily so as she stared down lovingly at Kara. She used her remaining strength to guide the blonde back up and capture her lips in an appreciative kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on her best friend's tongue. 

Lena bided her time. She waited to regain a steady heartbeat before she refocused her attention on the pressing matter that was the slick mess gathering on her thigh. Kara had - clearly - already begun working herself up. Whether or not the needy grinding was intentional, Lena didn't know, but she knew she wanted to be the one to give Kara her release, not have the blonde get off on her thigh. She guided Kara back and forth till she deemed her sufficiently distracted, and only then did she turn the tables, flipping the super on her back with surprising strength. 

"My turn," Lena devilishly smirked. 

She effortlessly slid three fingers into Kara and began thrusting in and out with reckless abandon. The blonde had no chance. Her head crashed back into soft pillows, her body burst to life, and her skin birthed a litany of pebbly goosebumps. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. Unlike previous times, this felt like it was finally for her. Kara didn't have to fake the appreciative sounds coming from her mouth. She didn't have to direct Lena on what to do. She was free to lie back and take all that was given. And Lena was more than happy to provide. 

The brunette had her lips glued to Kara's neck, adamant about marking her impenetrable skin, and though she may have been failing miserably, there was no mistaking Kara's moans for anything but satisfaction. So she kept going. With her mission still in sight, Lena eased herself down on her elbow, alleviating some of the pressure from her hand and placed her thumb over Kara's clit. The position was awkward, but Lena did her best to trace figures of eight over and around Kara's sensitive bud - knowing she immensely enjoyed the action herself - and was rewarded instantly when she felt Kara's body tense up and shake. 

"Lena," Kara moaned. Her hands were wound in the bedsheets, knuckles blanched from the force of her grip. She sounded so desperate, so fragile, that Lena had to bite her tongue to stop herself from moaning.

"I know," Lena replied, rising back on her palm to gaze at Kara's sheer beauty in this delirious state. She delicately brushed stray hairs off Kara's face, staring deep into her eyes, and ever so slightly smiled. "Let go, baby." 

~~~

"You're staring," Lena sighed, turning over and using her palms to rub sleep from her eyes. She’d expected some sort of embarrassment to tint Kara's face. Instead, she was met with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow. 

"I know," Kara said in a sure voice, her gaze unmoving, and suddenly, Lena felt like she was on fire all over again. The vivid events of the previous evening, still very fresh in her mind, were of no help. 

"Oh." Her cheeks were burning, and there was no doubt with her pale skin Kara could see. So Lena did what she could; she hid her face in Kara's side. "If you maybe wanted to stop, I wouldn't be opposed."

She vaguely heard Kara's laugh, but she'd become one with the small between the blonde's side and her forearm that everything was muffled. That was rectified when she was swiftly slumped onto her back, and whisps of golden hair tickled her cheeks from above. 

"I don't want to stop," Kara whispered. Innocence slowly vanished from the back-and-forth gaze, replaced with dark curiosity and dangerous intent. Soon, Lena found herself incapable of not glancing at Kara's pillowy lips that seemed to be inching closer. "Roa, I never want to stop staring at you."

Tags: @homo-oddity @camciel @lovelyy-moonlight | click here to be added to my taglist

[hobeemin]

amygdala

genre: angst, fluff, smut, fantasy, romance, greek god au

pairing: hades!min yoongi x oc (persephone)

summary: while they met under the most unconventional circumstances, there seemed to be a spark bloom about which each was uncertain. what can the future hold for them?

rating: 18+

warning(s): swearing, mentions of an orgy, greek gods being over-excessive, jealousy, drinking, self-consciousness, mild depression

word count: 1.9k

credits: thank you to @okiedokrie for beta reading

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

a/n: this is for @k-vanity summer event "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

prompt(s): love affair; "I’ve been alive for seven hundred years, and you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met."; "Why are you falling for me?"

this is a prequel to dionysus and jamais vu, my own little hades and persephone universe. def more to come in the future 🌼

Why?

Why was he here?

He watched with bored scrutiny as his brothers mingled among the partygoers. Why had they talked him into this, he’d never know. 

He would have much preferred the solace of his home, his dogs by his side, and the comforting glow of the cooking channel. A faint frown creased his face as the raucous laughter filled the air. 

He needed alcohol. And tons of it.

Pushing himself off the wall, he made his way over to the bar. With some effort, he squeezed through, waving his hand to get the bartender’s attention. Just as he was about to order, someone slapped him on the back, making his knees buckle. Yoongi’s expression darkened as he turned to the culprit. The party host himself, Taehyung, stepped back with his boxy grin.

“Why the long face, Yoongs?”

“Trying to get a drink,” he mumbled.

“We gotta get you the good stuff,” his speech slightly slurred as he gestured to the vast array of drinks.

“I’m not trying to get fucked up like you,” Yoongi warned.

“I’m pretty sure no one can out-drink the God of Wine,” Taehyung teased.

Yoongi rolled his eyes as Taehyung ordered a bottle of Ambrosia, filling his cup to the brim. “Stop mopping around and go mingle. If your brothers can do it, so can you!”

“I wouldn’t call what they do mingling,” Yoongi muttered. 

Sure enough, Namjoon whispered to a giggling nymph–shocker–and Hoseok had two sprites in his lap. No doubt they’d be leaving soon, if not now. Figures the God of Thunder and the God of the Sea would abandon their brother in his time of need.

He glanced at his phone with a sigh. She wasn’t coming. He should have known he’d get stood up. It wasn’t like he and Minthe were “official”, but it would have been nice for her to attend the party with him. Secretly, he felt things were going downhill over the past year. She became distant, always having an excuse to reschedule a date.

Yoongi thanked Taehyung for the Ambrosia, sipping it slowly. It perked up his mood a bit as he walked around the party. People would attempt to bring him into a conversation, but he shied away, giving them a sheepish wave.

Instead, he walked into another part of the house, looking at the paintings and sculptures with interest. He had to give Taehyung credit for his collection. Of course, Athena and Apollo deserved their flowers, too. After all, he bought some of their pieces from them. Just as he entered another room, his eyes met bright ones…in a state of undress. She shrieked as he spun around, red blooming on his face.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry. I didn’t think anyone was in here!”

The voice that spoke almost put him in a daze. The melodic tone reminded him of wind chimes. She rambled on as she slipped on the white strapless dress.

“N-No, I should be apologizing! I spilled red wine on my dress…well, my friend's dress, and I couldn’t find the bathroom–gosh, why did I come here? I’m not supposed to be here! I can’t believe Artemis talked me into coming and her stupid brother, argh…my mother is gonna kill me!”

Tears began to form as she started to hiccup.

He turned to look at her, breathing a sigh of relief to see she was fully clothed. Her beauty enchanted him. Yoongi blinked as the haze dissipated, set his drink down, walked up to her, and pulled out a handkerchief.

“It’s going to be okay. The stain isn’t so bad.”

She took the handkerchief, mumbling out a thanks, and plopped down on the couch. “It’s a silly thing to cry over. I just…I don’t know, but I feel like I don’t belong here.”

He snorted, grabbed his drink, and sat beside her. “Don’t I know it?”

She glanced at him curiously. “What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi took a sip of his drink before answering. “I got dragged here by my brothers. Apparently, I've been sulking too much than normal.”

“It sounds like your brothers and my friend could be friends. I got dragged here by her, too. For her, it's because I don’t get out enough and only study.”

“What’s wrong with studying?”

“That’s what I said! I’d rather be in my garden or curled up on the couch,” she pouted.

Wow, she looked cute, pouting like that, he thought. Even the flowers in her hair seemed to move on their own. Fluttering their petals whenever she spoke, or her expression changed. He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m missing my dogs right now.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You have pets?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulled his phone out, searching for a picture to share, “Too many to count. They’re my babies.”

She scooted closer to look at his phone screen. She let out a squeal as he flipped through the pictures. “That’s Cerberus. Don’t let him fool you; he’s the sweetest. That’s Holly…the brown one. He’s spoiled…well, they all are. And that lil furball, the black cat, is Pluto.”

“They are the cutest! I love animals. Never got to have pets growing up–mom wouldn’t allow it, but I love them.”

Yoongi smiled, putting his phone away. “Whose your mom? Have I met her before?”

She bit her lip, looking away from him. “Well–”

“Persephone!!”

Panic crossed her face at the sound of her name. Just then, a muscular man stumbled in with an equally attractive woman in tow. His face was completely red from the ambrosia, and he pointed at her before looking at the woman.

“See sis, I found her!”

The woman sighed in exasperation, walking over to her. “Persephone! Is this where you’ve been hiding the whole time?!”

I’ve been alive for seven hundred years, and you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met, she thought to herself.

Persephone seemed to shrink away on the couch. “Hey, Artemis.”

“Don’t ‘hey Artemis’ me. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I’ve been babysitting this dweeb for the past two hours!”

The man’s face twisted in annoyance. “Listen, no one told you to watch me.”

“I told you not to try to drink with Dionysus, Apollo.”

He sucked his teeth before settling his attention on Yoongi. “Uncle Hades!”

Yoongi’s lip slightly twisted as the God of the Sun lifted him in a bear hug. “I didn’t think a sourpuss like you would come to one of these!”

Persephone watched in wonder as he was lifted like a ragdoll. She tried not to snort at the expression on his face. He was anything but amused.

“Hello, Apollo, Yoongi is just fine.”

Once he was set down, he brushed his jacket with a frown. “I see you’re starting to take after your father.”

“Not too much, but that’s what everyone else says.”

“Uh-huh,” he glanced at Persephone with a tiny smile. “Nice meeting you, I’m gonna go find Namjoon and Hoseok.”

Stay. 

The thought crossed Persephone’s mind as she watched him walk away. There seemed to be an ache deep down. But why? Why did she want him to stay? 

Artemis poked her friend with a frown. “Earth to Sep. You in there?”

She shook her head. “Y-Yeah.”

“Let’s get you a drink. A real one this time.”

She let Artemis and Apollo lead her back to the bar. By now, things had taken a wild turn. People’s inhibitions were loosening more. Persephone stayed close to Artemis as she ordered them drinks. She tried looking for Yoongi in the crowd but couldn’t find him. So that was Hades. The big evil God of the Underworld, at least that is what her mother had been known to say.

”Stay away from those Olympic Gods!”

Persephone held back the urge to roll her eyes. Sure, Zeus and Poseidon had a less than savory reputation, but Hades…Yoongi didn’t seem like that. Artemis handed her a champagne flute and turned to observe the rest of the party.

”Are you alright?”

”How do you mean?”

”Yoongi didn’t try anything, did he?”

Persephone blinked at her in disbelief. “Why would he?”

Artemis shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. “He is one of the big three; they got a reputation.”

”He’s different. I don’t think he’s like them,” Persephone thought aloud.

”Whatever. They’re all the same,” the Goddess of the Moon grumbled.

Persephone loved her best friend, but she didn’t get it. Artemis made a vow of chastity long ago, as did her mother, Demeter. While it had been an option for her, there had to be more to life than vows and rituals. She felt she was destined for something greater. It didn’t take long for her to be shaken from her thoughts as the host returned to the crowd.

Taehyung appeared, jumping on the bar. “I hope everyone is enjoying themselves! It's that time of the night when it's about to get nasty!”

The cheers grew louder as the young Goddesses watched everyone remove their clothing. 

“What the hell–”

The lights darkened as the music took a sensual tempo. People began pairing up all around the room. Persephone tried not to gasp, seeing what a particular nymph and Zeus were doing in the corner. Moans grew louder, making her discomfort grow. Naked bodies writhed around her. She backed out of the room, reaching out for Artemis until she got pushed backward. She almost cried out until someone caught her. The warmth of their hands radiated on her skin. She could barely make out who it was until she was led outside to the backyard.

She blinked a few times as the torches surrounding played tricks in the night.

“Y-Yoongi?”

He nodded, still holding her hand. Persephone glanced down at it, and he dropped it, as red covered his cheeks.

“Sorry. Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine; just was not expecting all that.”

He chuckled nervously, pushing his hair back. “Yeah, I didn’t sign up for that.”

She returned a smile. “Same.”

He cleared his throat trying to grow the courage to ask her more questions, something about her. She wasn’t like her. Far from it. 

“So Persephone–”

“Sep!”

Fuck.

She turned away from him to see Artemis running towards her. She carried two coats and purses in her hand. “We’re leaving now! I’m gonna kill Taehyung for that! Wait until Athena and Hestia hear about it!”

She continued to fuss as Persephone gave Yoongi a look, making him snort. 

The Goddess of the Moon punched in a number angrily. “Damn, rideshare won’t be here for another ten minutes! I’m going up front. You coming?!”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll follow you out.”

“Better be. Bunch of horny, sweaty gods ruining a perfectly good party. Stupid orgies!”

As she stormed off, Persephone gave Yoongi a pout. “I guess I gotta go.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s crazy in there. Don’t want to get caught up in all that.”

“Agreed.”

The flowers in her hair closed slightly as her mood saddened. But why? Yoongi wished she could stay outside with him and talk all night, but it was selfish of him to think that. He didn’t deserve any happiness, and that wasn’t in his future.

“It was nice meeting you, Yoongi,” she whispered.

“You too, Persephone.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” she said, her eyes hopeful. 

Damn. What was happening to him? She seemed to have him under a spell.

Why are you falling for me? He wanted to ask.

“I–”

“Persephone! Hurry up!”

She winced, frowning at her friend’s voice. Glancing at Yoongi, she took a purplish flower from the ground and handed it to him. “It’s a pomelia. It kind of reminds me of you. It means kindness. You’re not like your brothers; you’re more than that.”

She squeezed his hand before running off in the direction Artemis called her in. Yoongi glanced down at the flower as a small smile appeared. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 4

Warnings: groping, insecurity, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

The prospect of doing your walk of shame is intimidating. You try to plot how exactly to skulk home as you search for your panties. It’s the only piece you’re missing. You have your skirt on, your shirt, bra, even both your shoes. Goddamn, they couldn’t have got that far.

You grab your purse and check inside. Of course they’re not there but you want to make sure you have everything. As your keys jingle noisily within, Curtis pokes his head out from the kitchen. You didn’t even realise he was in there.

“Off already?” He asks, “I was just about to start breakfast.”

You stop short as you look at him. That’s not exactly how these things work, is it? You clasp your purse shut and let it dangle from your elbow.

“Breakfast? Well, uh, I guess…”

“I don’t mind. You like smoothies?”

You remember all the times Stephanie complained about a guy sticking around too long. Or how Isla called her last boy toy a stage five clinger because he wanted a kiss. Were you doing this all wrong?

You meet his eyes. A cornflower blue so soft and pale you could sink into them like water. It’s an innocent offer. You feel bad just racing out but it seems just as awkward to stay. Still, you feel like you owe him.

“Sure,” you answer, “I like smoothies.”

“Bacon? Oh, shi–oot, you vegetarian? I got tofu, too.”

“Bacon’s fine, really,” you assure him, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Help? No, no, you’re a guest, just… sit down and relax. I’ll take care of you, bunny.”

You mull over his insistence. He’s being a good host but you can’t help but wonder why. He’s almost too nice to be true. Are you missing something?

“Everything okay?” He startles you as he touches your arm gently. You can’t help but wince.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, “it’s fine, I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Not at all. Please.”

You can’t argue with him. Not when he’s being so nice. You can’t complain for the night you spent with him. What’s another hour?

You retreat to the living room and take out your phone. You still haven’t heard from the other girls. That’s not really unusual but it’s not often you split up for the night. You typically keep a sort of buddy system. You feel a bit forgotten.

You sit on the couch as you scroll then pause and look down. You remember last night, right in this spot. You swear you can feel him still, hear his sultry growl as he coaxes you. You still can’t believe it. 

You never thought you were the one to fall for sweet words, yet you never had the opportunity before to prove that true. You melted like sugar at his first touch.

The blender whirs, followed by the noise of his cooking. You tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and try to distract yourself with a game of solitaire. You’re hungry but almost too nervous to eat. You’re not sure you’ll even be able to keep any of it down.

He emerges with a tall glass, a dark purple smoothie that he places on the table next to your elbow.

“I hope you don’t mind blueberry. Guess I should’ve asked.”

“It’s fine, thanks,” you assure him.

“Anything else?”

“No, no, that’s good.”

“Well, let me know. Anything you want, bunny.”

You smile and nod as you lift the smoothie. There it is again; bunny. It’s adorable but you’re not too sure about it. Pet names aren’t entirely warranted after a single night. You think. You need to stop acting like you know everything because quite clearly you’re clueless.

You sip through your straw as he goes back to the kitchen. You flick your finger up and close the card game. You can’t even win against yourself. The smoothie is delicious. You nearly drink half of it before you catch yourself.

You set the glass down on a wooden coaster and steady your phone. You flip through your contacts; Stephanie, Isla, Mindy… You should text them, make sure they’re okay.

“Here we go,” Curtis interrupts your indecision.

You put your phone down, tilting it on the popsocket as you look up at him. He carries in two plates and places them on the low coffee table. He stands and glances around.

“I have TV trays. Sorry, I’ve been tryna get outta this place. Somewhere a little more roomy.”

“It’s okay, really. My place is tiny compared to this.”

“This one’s yours,” he takes a plate and a keeps the cutlery from slipping off, “hope you like sunny side up.”

“It’s wonderful,” you affirm.

You admire the sliced avocado and the rye bread. The bacon looks like it’s turkey and his own plate only has egg whites. You can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. You don’t often have such a healthy breakfast.

You balance the plate on your lap and grab the cutlery. You get yourself situated and your phone buzzes loudly as he sits beside you. You glance over at your phone and quickly swipe away the call with your finger. You’ll call them back later.

You go to slice into your eggs as Curtis clears his throat. You focus on carving out a small bite, not enough to make you seem piggish.

“So, who’s Andy?” He asks.

Hsi tone carries an unexpected edge. You peek over at him then shake your head. You’re confused.

“That’s who called. Boyfriend? He’s okay with you going out?” He prods tersely as his knife hits the plate sharply.

“Boyfriend?” You laugh anxiously, “no, I don’t— he’s my boss. Probably had a call-in.”

“Ah,” he nods and you hear his breath, each one measured. You don’t know why he’d care enough to ask.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 1: Flight

This is set just prior to the events of the first Hobbit movie, so take that how you will. I'll probably have four parts for this fic. If anyone wants to be tagged for any future fics or updates, let me know and I'll start a taglist. Anyway, this is my first LotR related fanfic, so enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven't seen RoP, and I don't plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving's Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously, I mean, he's over 6000 years old), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it rn so uh...don't think about it too hard).

~*~

"Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me, Lord Elrond," the Man said as the pair walked through Elvish halls. The stone was older than the Human by several thousands of years, yet the Elf lord was there when they were first carved into bricks for construction. "I know your schedule is full to bursting–"

"Nonsense. I am always pleased beyond measure to speak with you, mellon-nin," the Elf interjected as they walked into his study. "Tell me, how are your people holding up with this new threat?"

That was precisely why the Man had come to Rivendell, in the first place. Even as nomads, Orc attacks used to be few and far between for his people, happening perhaps once or twice a year, but in the last six months alone, they'd repelled four assaults. Their losses were becoming concerning. The Man, their leader, decided that the time had come to seek advice and possibly assistance from one much wiser than he.

"They are shaken...frightened by even the smallest of things. The snap of a twig, a particularly loud howl from the wind..." The Elven host offered his guest a seat near his bookshelves - a quiet nook which he reserved for serious conversations or quiet contemplating - and took in his haggard expression. That Elrond understood more than anything. Remaining strong when you were just as afraid as the people whom you were trying to protect was a difficult task. Such endeavors could wear heavily on even the most seasoned and confident of commanders. "They are doing their best to remain strong, but I must confess, I-I am becoming less certain every day about the wisdom of my insistence that we keep moving. Perhaps we should find one good, defensive position and dig in..."

Elrond could see his dilemma.

"But if you took such an action, you would feel as though you were cowering, is that not so?" He offered no judgment and no solutions. Not yet. He wanted to guide his friend along the path to finding his own answer, not force his hand in one direction or the other. That was not his place. That was not his purpose.

The sigh that escaped the Man's lips was ragged, and his shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of all Middle Earth was upon him.

"I know 'tis prideful, but our people have never shied away from a fight. To dig ourselves into a trench...that would feel too much like desperation. And, each time the Orcs returned, they would know exactly where to find us and how many more it would take to breach our defenses," he muttered running a hand through his hair. Once vibrant and full of color, the strands were flecked with gray. The Elf lord was reminded quite starkly of how much of a toll time took upon the mortals. A pang of sorrow twisted through his heart. After over six thousand years of life, he was well aware that death was a natural part of life for those species who were irrevocably tied to mortality, but his heart ached no less for his friend's eventual fate. "If we keep moving, though, they still manage to find us. Each attack grows in strength. Every time, more and more of my people fall upon enemy blades."

Elrond nodded his head with sympathy and understanding.

"Have your people offered any suggestions about what you might do?"

The Man stood abruptly and began pacing.

"Mekor put forth the idea of joining with a stationary settlement - just until the hoards are cleared, you understand," he said, but he shook his head. "I did not tell him, but the last time we were near several of the major cities, I...scouted ahead. I spoke with their leaders, explained our situation."

"And?"

"And, they all said the same thing: 'I cannot in good conscience allow you to draw such large numbers of orcs to our gates.' The difference is that they at least have gates behind which they can defend themselves," the Man paused near the window overlooking the valley. "And you know why I cannot go to the Rangers."

The Lord of Imladris drew in a deep breath and stood, making his way to his friend's side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any help that I could offer which you would accept, mellon?" His question was quiet and probing, yet free of judgment. Elrond knew well the pride of Men and their desire to act as independently as possible. That would not, however, stop him from helping where he could. He would even go so far as to bring these mortals into Rivendell to stay. It was, after all, a refuge for just such an occasion.

After a long moment of consideration, the Man cleared his throat and lifted his chin as if to preserve his dignity.

"Our swords are old. Chipped and cracking. Several shattered during the last skirmish. And our supply of arrows and bow strings is...woeful. The few who were skilled at replenishing both were killed two months ago."

"I'll have Lindir draw up a list of supplies. No matter how small your need is, please tell him everything. We are more than happy to give you whatever help you require," Elrond said, and he could have sworn that the Human's eyes were filling with unshed tears of gratitude. Neither Man nor Ellon mentioned it. Trying to restore his friend's smile, at least to a small degree, the Elf lord changed the subject. "Tell me, how is your daughter faring through all of this?"

The grin that stretched the Man's lips was warm; the love he held for his only child shone brightly in his eyes, restoring some semblance of youth to his weathered features.

"She believes that this is all one big adventure. Though she be only a few years old, she is curious...asking more questions than I rightly know how to answer," he stated proudly. "She has her mother's intellect, and I am glad of it. I am no teacher, but I've managed to convey to her the meaning of a few words of your language."

Surprise was surely evident upon Elrond's face at his friend's declaration.

"Mellon-nin, I am honored."

"She'll need to be able to communicate with your people once she discovers what she is." The Human reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book, flipping it open and retrieving a loose piece of paper. "My late wife, as you know, was the artist of the family, however..."

He trailed off as he offered the page to his host. Elrond took it carefully, looking at the sketch of a little girl.

"Your daughter?" He asked almost reverently as he took in her joyful expression. Even in this simple drawing he could see the intelligence behind her eyes. After a few moments' keen observation, he tried to hand the drawing back to the Man who'd created it but was gently refused.

"Keep it. I brought you that, my dear friend, because if something happens to me...I want you to be familiar with her likeness. It will likely be vastly outdated by the time you meet her, but 'tis better than nothing." The somber tone of voice made Lord Elrond pause. "She is more important to me than all of Middle Earth, and if...if the Orcs take me from her, I must know that someone in this world knows to look out for her..."

Setting the sketch on his desk, the Elf placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Should either of you ever need help, I will be there. She will have every protection that I can possibly afford her," he promised.

"There is...something else," the Man murmured looking into his friend's eyes. "It could be no more than an old man's imagination, but things have happened around her. Small things. Rain repelled from her as if it cannot touch her. Ripples in a pond by which she sits, though no breeze caressed the water's surface."

Elrond's posture straightened further at this new information. He knew that the blood of Númenor was thin in most, but if this was true, his friend's daughter might have a rare gift.

"Have no fear, mellon-nin. Your daughter will find her path, and if I can, I will gladly help her."

By the time of the Man's departure from Rivendell, Elrond had prepared a gift. With the weapons and extra supplies that he presented, the Lord of Imladris had one other item to offer. Opening a small, wooden box carved with Sindarin script, he revealed a silver necklace. The craftsmanship of his people was evident in the intricate curls and swirls of the metal. In the center was a forest green gem that, to the Man, seemed to glow with its own light.

"This is for your daughter. The pendant is a symbol of our protection - proof that she has favor with us. All she ever need do is show this to any Elf, and they will do whatever is necessary to assist her. If none of my people are near, she need only touch it and ask for help," Lord Elrond promised, and as if the gem could hear him, it pulsed with a warm, affectionate glow. The girl's father looked from the necklace to his friend, and this time a tear slid down his cheek as he offered his profuse gratitude. "I would be remiss to do anything less, mellon-nin."

After tucking the box safely away in his saddlebag, the Man embraced his friend. Neither knew that it would be for the last time.

--

"If you find yourself in danger, seek the elves of Rivendell."

My father repeated that to me more times than I could count as soon as I was old enough to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Our people were nomadic, constantly moving from place to place, setting up camp wherever we found ourselves. Every time we stopped, he made sure that I knew two things:

The first was the location of the nearest source of water.

The second was the way to Rivendell from our temporary encampment.

Long before I was brought into this world, my father ensured that we were on friendly terms with the steward of the valley. Each time we were even remotely close to Imladris, he made a point of speaking with the Elven lord.

Once, when I asked what Lord Elrond looked like, he brought out a small box of my mother's sketches. Rifling through them, he made a triumphant sound when he found the one he sought. Setting the box carefully aside on his bedroll, he had me sit beside him and turned the page toward me.

"The last time your mother and I visited, she made a point of drawing him. You must remember his face, my little love. One day you might need to request his help as I have done."

Much of the time, our wandering took us far from that sacred valley and the river that flowed before it. The final time that my father was able to visit, he brought back a gift. A necklace.

But it wasn't just a necklace. There was something about it that sent a wave of calm assurance through me. A sense of safety permeated my being every time I touched it. The cool metal seemed impervious to the elements, never rusting or tarnishing, as only the skill of the elves could accomplish. More than once over the years, I found myself looking at the pendant, wondering about the being who'd given me something so obviously unique on a whim.

Two decades and a handful of years later, I found myself sprinting through the trees with half of our remaining people. We were twelve desperate souls, flying through the underbrush with a hoard of Orcs behind us. Every few steps, I aimed an arrow behind me and prayed that it hit its mark upon my release.

"Come on! We're almost to the river!" I shouted, and my father's second in command, Mekor, let out an answering shout as we approached the ford. The snarls of Orcs and their Wargs nipped at our heels, urging us to move faster.

As much as it hurt, I was forced to ignore a terrified shout as the pack swallowed up one of our tired stragglers. This was a last ditch effort. If we stopped, we'd die.

Eleven.

Struggling for breath, I urged my people toward the sound of the Bruinen River and its eastern shore. Arrows from our pursuers flew through the trees, embedding themselves deeply within trunks and flesh alike. A few screams began and were silenced abruptly.

How many was that? Two? Four? No, we could count our dead once we were safe. Any who fell behind at this point were beyond our ability to save. Fifty Orcs against less than a dozen Humans? We would be lucky if any of our number survived the crossing.

Aiming another arrow backward, I allowed myself a moment's relief at the injured shriek of a Warg and the sickening crunch of its rider's bones as both crashed to the ground. Adrenaline rushed through me as the treeline appeared before us. The grass beneath our feet became a mix of pebbles and sand, rocks and mud.

"Quickly! Cross the river! Make for the eastern shore!" I shouted, and a few of the remaining people in our group echoed the sentiment. Two were cut down before they cleared the trees, their gurgling cries sending a bolt of helplessness through me even as I nocked and released arrows to buy time and space for my people. A few splashes reached my ears, and I prayed they'd make for the trees.

A yell of my name sounded from behind me.

"Come on! Get clear!" Mekor sounded much closer than I would've preferred. I needed him to live.

There were too many of them for me to hold off alone, so I turned and ran, beginning to cross the ford as quickly as I could. The pendant beneath my shirt thrummed against my skin, and an arrow whizzed by my ear so close that I could feel the displaced air from its fletching. That was too close for comfort. Much too close.

For the most part, the Orcs were afraid to cross into this territory. The Elves defended their land fiercely against such filth, after all, and very few of the cretins were stupid enough to seal their fate so definitively. However, a few who were brave enough - or perhaps foolish enough - to risk death started into the water after me. Not yet having reached the shore, I turned, grasping for arrows, but my quiver was empty. With a quiet oath, I turned and ran toward the trees. My boots were drenched, my lungs ached, and I blinked away sorrowful tears at having lost so many souls so quickly.

With a forest as ancient as this, the trees were rumored to whisper to each other and to those who remembered how to listen. The Elves listened.

Lord Elrond listened.

"Get to the trees!" I shouted, then I dug my hand into my shirt and grabbed the pendant. "Help us! Please! We're dying!"

The few brave Orcs who made it across and had not been shot down instantly apparently lent courage to their fellows. The Warg riders began to cross the racing waters, and I felt a horrible sense of dread settle into the pit of my stomach. The sight of boots disappearing into the trees was all well and good, but the Orcs would follow.

Someone had to make sure that they were distracted.

I had but one shot.

--

About an hour before he and his soldiers engaged the Orc hoard, Lord Elrond of Imladris had a vision. His gift of foresight showed a group of terrified Humans racing across the Bruinen with countless Orcs behind them. He was about to send out his guard, but the face of the young woman fighting so hard to protect the others made him pause.

He knew her face. She was older now - quite obviously an adult - but he still recognized the intelligence in her eyes and the determined set to her jaw.

More than that, the sparkle of the pendant that had escaped the collar of her shirt made him freeze. Icy dread washed over him as the vision changed to show her fleeing toward the trees. Her voice floated into his ears as easily as if she'd been standing right beside him.

"Help us! Please! We're dying!"

Elrond did not hesitate.

"Lindir!" He shouted as he began donning his armor. The younger Elf rushed into his lord's study. "Lindir, have my horse saddled. And ready a group of fighters. Hurry! Orcs are coming!"

When Elrond and his warriors caught sight of the group, the Orcs and Warg riders had just begun crossing the river. The glimpse he'd caught an hour before of her hair swishing over her shoulder as she fought repeated itself before his eyes, including her plea for help which now sounded as it should - like a whisper echoing through his very being, drawing him toward her. As he watched, she doubled back on her path, rushing back into the water.

She was trying to draw the focus of the Orcs away from her people - there weren't many Humans left. He urged his horse faster, his heart a racing drumbeat in his chest accompanying the galloping of his mount. He would not allow his friend's daughter to die within his borders while these lands were his to protect!

He'd just drawn his sword when the river's water began to whirl around her. Creating a wall between the Orcs and the remaining Humans, the water roared and flared with a shout from the woman. She lifted her arms, shoved them forward as if pushing a heavy weight, and the wall of water crashed over the majority of her enemies, washing them away as easily as pebbles in a current.

Magic. She'd performed magic! Her father had been right all those years ago.

But it was not the time to ponder her abilities. The time had come for him to fulfill his promise.

She'd bought just enough time for Elrond and his riders to reach the Orcs and cut down those who remained. Blades hissing and flashing, the Elves felled them easily.

By the time he turned back to the river, he saw her collapse onto the sandy bank, panting for air. He recognized the sight instantly: she'd overextended herself. Dismounting with a swish of his cloak, Elrond ran to her side, dropping to his knees and sheathing his blade before turning her gently onto her back.

Her glassy, exhausted gaze met his, and recognition flashed through her clever eyes.

"Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn." The words fell easily from her tongue despite how close she was to unconsciousness. She'd practiced them before.

"You have it, my lady," Elrond murmured, and almost as soon as the words passed his lips, her eyelids closed and she went limp in his grasp. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her close to his chest for one selfish moment, and with a few orders to his men to round up any survivors, the Elves brought their charges into the Hidden Valley.

~*~

Elvish Translations:

mellon-nin = my friend

Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn. = Elrond of Imladris, we need your protection.

[enam3l]

Hi luv! I just finished reading your “rockstar eddie munson does halloween pt.2” fic and OOOF damn was it delicious! I was wondering if I could put in a request for Rockstar!Eddie x reader for headcanons about the paparazzi or media in general being obsessed with Eddie and the Reader’s love story and how they handle it? Like Eddie’s doing an interview with Corroded Coffin and the interviewer loosely asks about the reader and Eddie goes off bragging about his wife and his kids like a lovestruck teenager OR maybe a talk show host is fascinated by their love story as highschool sweethearts or something. Idk what do you think?

Thank you for finally giving me the opportunity to do the big one - how rockstar Eddie met his wife. I got insanely carried away, I am not sure I have ever written this much, not even for my dissertation. This was absolutely a labour of love, I feel kind of silly for how invested I am in characters I've created. Thanks for giving me the perfect way of doing this bby.

the big one: how rockstar eddie met his wife

no TW / SFW / all wonderful heartwarming fluff / a huge insight to rockstar Eddie universe / whopping 11.7k words / enjoy and as always, request whatever! / follow #enam3ls rockstar eddie for more of the story

On a chilly November day, Eddie Munson sits in his favourite booth at The Hideout with a finger nervously circling his glass, it's like he's twenty again and never left. But it's 1999 and he sits there now having his free hand calmingly stroked by his wife who senses his nerves and presses reassuring kisses into his shoulder every time he fidgets in his seat. The bar is empty beside you both, a photographer strolling round the venue taking pictures of its quirks and creaking corners and then at the bar the manager and owner sit chatting to the interviewer. Eddie is next to be interviewed. 

Admittedly it's pretty epic that he was about to speak to and be featured in The Face magazine. Ten years since Corroded Coffin released their debut album and having just released their third, Eddie finds himself back in the place it all began. So far in his career, he'd shied away from the press, the press he'd received unwillingly in 86 had been traumatising and enough publicity to last a lifetime. Being famous in his eyes was a collateral consequence of being able to make music as a living. He didn't want the world knowing his business, having his privacy and the home life he loved so much invaded. He was aware that for some reason unknown to him, the media had taken an intrigue into his life with you. Well actually, he could understand their intrigue in you, he thought you were the coolest and most beautiful girl in the world and still had to pinch himself that you'd not only dated him but married him and then had his children. But now he was willing to put himself on the record for the first time. 

After a decade in the industry now, Eddie respected his humble beginnings more than ever and respected other artists who'd done the same. He found a common ground between Corroded Coffin and the other musicians they loved and admired, they'd all built there way up, starting at first in places like The Hideaway where he sat again now. Outside of the band he'd developed his own project of raising awareness and money for local independent venues and now The Face had picked up on his work and wanted to document his story and then collaborate in highlighting other small venues across the country which had been the homes of bands we all know. Eddie decided opening up publicly was worth it if it meant helping keeping these places open, giving the next group of lost kids trying to find purpose in music a home. Ever his supporter, you had come along to hold his hand – literally. 

Finally the interviewer came round and slid into the booth, sitting across the table from you both. Eddie looked over at The Hideout’s owners who gave him a huge grin and thumbs up, eternally grateful that Eddie had never forgotten them. The interviewer shuffled his papers and flicked on a tape recorder after checking Eddie was ready. The interviewer had been very kind and normal which did help relax Eddie slightly. Until now, Eddie had brushed off magazines, newspapers and chat shows. He didn't want to be ogled at and turned into a spectacle by mainstream media, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him these were the same types who’s berated him and brandished him a ‘freak’ in school. Instead, Eddie had stuck to giving attention exclusively to awkward fans who were making zines from their own rooms or off-beat shows and publications for avid music fans who were allies, not judges. The Face, he felt were an ally so here they were. 

‘So, Eddie, we're here in your hometown of Hawkins at a bar called The Hideout. How does it feel to be back?’ the interviewer begins, clearly genuinely interested. 

‘Well…’ Eddie hesitates but is spurred on by an encouraging squeeze to his leg from you, 'it's pretty nice to be back in here. It's always nice to be here, it's not my first time back since I was a teen or anything. Our family and friends are here so we come back a lot. Even if the town didn't necessarily feel like home, this place did. You wouldn't think from the outside, I guess. But inside, this place is an escape.’ 

The interviewer smiles and responds ,

‘Your friends and family are still here? That's cool man. Is it okay to say you're actually here talking to me with your wife? No worries if not, I can cut this!’ 

Eddie turns to you, he doesn't want to speak for you. 

You smile ‘No that's absolutely fine, for the record, I am present.’ 

You all snigger and the interviewer continues,

‘Awesome, thanks. So I take it then you've been here too, Y/N? It's sweet you're able to see Eddie’s beginnings and really cool that you guys keep coming back and are now supporting it.’

A smile is shared between you and Eddie that the interviewer picks up on. 

'Well…’ you begin, 'this place has a lot of history.’ 

Eddie laughs and agrees ‘yep, you can say that.’ 

Both of your hands are intertwined together, resting on the table and you both give each other a squeeze at your words. The interviewer notices your tender interactions. 

‘Okay, I'm sensing a story here. What does The Hideout mean to you?’

Eddie cracks, he can't resist boasting about you, you're his kryptonite. 

‘Sooo… this isn't just where Corroded Coffin started and had our biggest moments, it's actually where me and Y/N started,’ the interviewer lets out a little gasp and Eddie chuckles, ‘well shit, guess that cats out the bag or whatever now man. Yeah, I mean that's a question I get asked a lot. How we met, how we got together. Like fuck, we literally met right here.’ 

On February 11th 1989, once again the boys of Corroded Coffin find themselves once again back in The Hideout, except now they've got a bestselling debut album. After escaping Hawkins in December 1986 in Eddie’s battered van, they drove straight to New York to play any club that would let them through the door and graft until someone gave them a break. Some lunatic thankfully believed in them, gave them a record deal and now to celebrate not only releasing an album but it being a hit, Corroded Coffin have come home to celebrate in the place it all started. Dustin had called Eddie practically screeching down the phone, him and Steve had been watching the television and Corroded Coffin’s album had been mentioned, it's significant record sales being highlighted. 

‘You did it Eddie, holy shit!! They're talking about on the damn tv!!’

Eddie was baffled ‘Woah, Jesus. Calm down, man. Hello to you to. Now what the hell are you talking about.’ 

Dustin was ecstatic 'Do you not know?! The album, honestly Eddie, how do you not know. It's huge, they're freaking talking about it on tv, how it's fucking awesome!’

Suddenly Steve’s voice takes over the line 

‘Yeah dude like on MTV and everything. Legit shit. No weirdo show for metalheads or anything. Everyone is talking about you guys.’ 

Eddie rolled his eyes at Steve but he was surprised, they'd expected to just be acknowledged by people into their scene, not to be spoke about by everyone else. But for whatever reason, Corroded Coffin had sparked intrigue, people wanted to talk about that band from that spooky ass town in Indiana. Dustin and Steve came up with the idea for them to do a celebration gig at The Hideout, an event for those in the town who'd supported the guys from the beginning. It was actually a pretty cool idea and the guys all liked it and the venues owners had always been supportive of them and were more than happy to have a homecoming. 

They'd never expected it to be packed. People coming from everywhere to see Corroded Coffin in their natural habitat. The band, the staff and owners stood backstage laughing, totally dazed. From tickets alone the bar had made more money than it would usually in six months. The owner clapped Eddie on the back and cracked up 

‘Shit, I knew letting you punks crash my stage nearly every night would pay off one of these days. Proud of you guys. Now go deafen this fuckin town and make sure they drink this place dry.’

Eddie peers from around the curtain. The Hideout was jam packed, probably a health and safety violation but the perks of being a small venue in a random town was you could get away with those things. Still, he was stunned. They'd played sold out shows before, they'd generated quite the cult following in New York even before they signed a record deal. But this was their first gig since the album released and there was something different about seeing his home venue full like this… for him. His eyes scanned until they fell on a booth closest to the stage, packed in were his friends. Around a table full of drinks sat Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Eleven and Max. They spotted him and cheered and waved like madmen. Eddie would forever be grateful for their unconditional support and how they'd stuck together after escaping the unthinkable. 

A poke from Gareth got Eddie’s attention. It was showtime. The boys huddled together in a circle chanting to psych themselves up, a ritual they'd continued on from their Hellfire days. Each member grabbed their instrument, let out a nervous round of woops and stepped out one by one on stage. Blinded by the lights and deafened by the cheers. 

Earlier that evening, across the road from the bar, a battered car pulls up outside The Forest Motel. The driver climbs out, legs a little stiff from the journey. As the door slams shut a puff of dust jumps into the air, the car decorated in a thin layer of the stuff from travelling cross country. They fumble with the boot to retrieve a leather duffel bursting at the seams, close the boot and look up to assess their home for the next two nights. Neon lights flicker on the sign meaning only ‘The rest Motel’ read clearly, a happy accident they suppose but doubt their nights will be restful based on the thumbing radiating from a bar across the narrow road. The area is run down, the only things on the small street placed within the forest being the motel, the bar, a small greasy looking café and a twenty-four-hour liquor shop. As they'd turned off the highway into the town the wooden sign labelled as ‘Hawkins,’ it was hard to ignore the overwhelmingly gloomy aura of the place. As soon as the threshold was crossed, the  sky becoming a little darker, air a little stiller, the trees taller and somehow more daunting than the ones that had lined to highway. 

Duffle over shoulder, the driver pushed through the heavy doors into a dated, kitschy lobby area. A receptionist sat at the desk flicking through television stations until landing on MTV which blared loudly. Satisfied the receptionist looked up noticing the driver’s presence and scrambled, straightening her uniform and whizzing her chair over to the computer. 

Flustered but smiling she apologised ‘Hi, I'm so sorry! I totally zoned, this is like the quietest it's been all day! Do you have a booking?’

The driver came over to the desk, letting the duffle hit the floor as they rested their elbows on the counter. Smiling back they replied ‘Yeah, yeah I do. It's Y/N. One night. Is it okay that I'm checking in late?’

The receptionist looked relieved and confessed ‘Oh thank god because we do not have a single room available if you hadn't booked. The place is soo full, it's usually a total ghost town. Yeah checking in now is no problem but you're kinda late for the gig though? Most people came this morning or afternoon.’

Your face wrinkles in confusion and you have to ask ‘Oh no sorry I'm not here for… the gig? What gig is it?’

She now gasps and clasps her had in excitement

‘Ohmygod you don't know? So like okay so these guys they like went to my high school, total losers then but whatever anyway turns out they're not like a hot band. I mean they're not my thing really, so noisy… anyway! They're debut album just went right into the charts and now they've come back here. You know that dirty looking bar over the road? Yeah! That's where they started and they're doing a homecoming gig to celebrate. Sooo cool right??’

You blinked, trying to process the barrage of words she just practically squealed out. Although she's at least clarified why the seemingly dingy bar was so loud and looked so busy. 

Attempting to force a polite smile you reply ‘Yeah, that's awesome.’ 

The look in her eye gives away that she's disappointed your energy didn't match hers or that you hadn't asked for gossip about the guys you assume she probably would only give the light of day now because of their fame. The receptionist rustles around the desk sighing, realising you're really not going to give her more. 

‘Well… here's your key. Room number 12. Go outside, up the stairs then it's the last door. Have a good stay.’ 

Her clear disappointment makes you feel a little bad so you make sure to give her a bright smile as you thank her and take the key. As you collect your duffle and head towards the door you came through before, your head snaps round at the sudden volume increase on the television and a girlish squeal from the receptionist. 

'Ohmygod! Wait! Come back! Look, look!’ She's stood back up now, jumping on the spot with her hands flapping like a crazed fangirl. You shuffle back over and you gaze in the direction of the television, still on MTV, which she points to. A bright pink manicured nail taps the screen at the music video playing.

‘That's them! That's them! See, they're like actual rockstars. Totally crazy they came from this shithole ugh I wish I wasn't working. You should try and go, at least someone should have fun.’ 

You laugh and nod ‘Maybe!’ you linger for a moment watching the video and waiting for the band members to appear but they don't, the gloomy music video only shows a little girl kicking a hideous monster's ass.  The music however is good, heavy on guitars with surprisingly nice vocals. 

Once you're finally in the room, you immediately flop onto the bed. Exhausted from driving all day, legs stiff and fingers cramping. A groan escapes when you remember your journey is barely over, still to cross the state borders to get to your final destination of Chicago. As cliché as it sounds, your job was your dream one, allowing you to get paid for being creative and travel the country but admittedly that could be draining at times. It'd been a long time since you'd been able to call somewhere your ‘hometown,’ the receptionist’s rambling had reminded you of that and the idea of calling a place ‘home’ made your heart twinge a little. The small apartment in New York that the company provided wasn't home, you didn't chose it, you barely decorated it and frankly, you were never there. It was basecamp if anything, where you kept the majority of your belongs and near the main office – practical not personal. 

The shower thankfully was hot unlike the other motels you'd hit so far and soothed your aches. Once out of the bathroom you noticed the music radiating from across the road was even louder, you peak from behind the curtains at the bar. It's almost vibrating from the amps. God, you were tempted. Even if the band weren't there and even if their music had sounded god awful, you really could do with a drink and going to a bar was a lot less depressing than drinking a bottle of rum from the liquor store next door out of plastic cups from the motel, alone and overthinking. Fuck it, you think, you're going to go. Worst case scenario you can make the giddy receptionist feel better by telling her she didn't miss out, best case scenario you dance until your feet hurt and have some drunk sex with a stranger. After drying your hair and doing your make up, you pick out a long sleeve black mini dress and some knee high black boots and thank the universe for giving you a job full of trendy people so you actually have to make effort at work. You analyse yourself in the mirror and decide for someone who is sleep deprived and not slept in their own bed in days, you look pretty good. 

The best thing about motels is not having to go through reception to leave or arrive meaning you can make all the worst life choices possible without getting a single judging look from a knowing receptionist. In this case, you just didn't want to be spotted by the receptionist and admit she persuaded you, you're also a little worried she might make you take her with you. The bar is heaving, even from the outside. People litter the street out front smoking and chattering, the variety of people tickles you. Hard weathered metal heads all leather clad are mixed among mild mannered suburbanites and a surprising amount of scantly-clad hot girls. It's sweet you think to yourself, how this random town has gathered together to celebrate the band and how clearly they have a fan base who are dedicated enough to come all the way out here just to be a part of the moment. The gangs of girls makes you wonder again what the band look like, you're baffled how a group of guys the receptionist cruelly called ‘losers’ could end up with attention like this. You have an inkling the receptionist was definitely wrong about them. 

Luckily once you're at the door, they still have a couple of tickets left but they warn you it's already started. It's a struggle to even get into the room, bodies rammed together and bouncing in motion along to the song they're mid way through. The place is deceptively big and all wooden panelled, more like a real venue than a bar with a huge open standing area, an upstairs balcony and long bar on the left hand side that is crammed with people. On the right hand side there's a row of plush red velvet booths. You wonder what The Hideout was before it was a bar, it looked as if it once could've been a beautiful theatre but that memory is wiped out by blaring guitars which you can only hear and not see over the crowd. Wiggling between people and feeling embarrassed at being an inconveniences you suddenly get caught in a sweep of the crowd as a new song begins to play and clearly it's a favourite as suddenly everyone turns to get closer to the stage. 

Eventually, you're able to pop out the other side and finally get to the now abandoned bar. As you lean over the bar top to look at the bottles lining the walls, you're bumped into. You stumble back as a drink splashes all over your boots. A loud frantic voice brings your head back up from staring at the puddle you're now stood in. 

‘Oh shit!! Oh man, I'm so so sorry! Shit, they said I'd spill the drinks as well. Crap. Are you okay? Shit. Let me get you some paper towels.’

A boy in his late teens stands in front of you, he has a sweet face, an impressive mop of curls on top but most impressively he's wearing a Weird Al t-shirt to a metal gig which makes you laugh. He's brandishing napkins at you before you can respond. Taking them you giggle,

‘Hey, hey honestly don't worry! It's only my shoes and it's probably the least gross thing I'll step in here… cool t-shirt though.’

He grins now practically ear to ear, his smile somehow warms your heart and the compliment makes him look like he might hug you. 

‘THANK YOU! Can you say that again to my friends? They tried to make me change. Hey look let me get your drink to apologise anyway and to thank you for backing me and Al up?’

You attempt to shake your head and wave your hands

‘No no don't worry about it honestly, I'm okay!’

But he's already got the bartenders attention and his smile persists. 

' I insist! Plus we've got a tab anyway,’ he turns to look at you now with a proud look on his face and he points towards the stage, ' the guitarist over there? One of my best friends.’

The stage is visible from the bar but between the bright lights and the fact there's multiple guitars on stage, you're not sure which is his friend but you're still impressed and love how proud he is of his friend too. 

‘Damn, that's really cool. Well thank you so much then!’ You give the bartender your order then turn back, 'I hadn't heard of these guys, I'm not from here. Just at the motel and heard about it. Thought I'd check it out, so far, so good.’

He nods thoughtfully, ‘Awesome! I was going to say, I've never seen you before and it's a small town so, y’know. Oh shit, I'm Dustin by the way!’

You introduce yourself and shake the hand he's extended out. The bartender slides your drink over and you take it. You look around and shuffle awkwardly, realising you're not sure where to go or what to do now. Dustin clearly notices and gathers his drinks and nods his head in the opposite direction as if to signal you somewhere. 

‘Well Y/N, let us adopt you for the night! Come on and join our band of misfits supporting the actual band. We've got a booth, it's pretty sweet.’ 

Knowing you've got no one else and also that you cannot reject that sweet face you smile and follow him through the crowd. The booth is packed with the whole group buzzing, bouncing in their spots and craning their necks to spot their friend on stage. Nothing needs to be said, you just know how much they love their friend and for the second time that night, your heart twinges at the thought of something absent in your life. A girl, probably the same age as yourself is stood by the table waiting for Dustin’s arrival. Immediately upon seeing you both she is fussing the boy and collecting the drinks, you can already tell she's the mom of the group. Her eyes dart between the two of you, clearing waiting for an explanation about the strange girl encroaching on her team, for a mild looking girl she is surprisingly terrifying. Dustin slings an arm round your shoulder, saving you and guides you to the table, now getting everyone's attention. 

‘Guys! This is Y/N, she's with us for the night after I may have possibly spilt a beer on her… sorry Steve.’

A guy with handsome boyish looks, caramel eyes and fantastic hair gives Dustin a scowl and groans 

‘Agh, Dustin! I knew this would happen, man. You gotta be more careful,’ the terrifying girl backs him up but he turns to you with a charming smile ‘I’m always telling him this. But I'm not complaining you got wet, it means we get to meet you Y/N.’

You try not to snigger at the accidental innuendo but a laugh escapes. The rest of the group (aside one teenage girl with brown hair who just looks confused) stare at him, gobsmacked and shaking their heads. Another teenage girl with beautiful red hair groans audibly and let's out 

‘Jesus Christ, Steve!’

The terrifying girl clips him round the head with the back of her hand as two guys who you're pretty sure are stoned, burst out laughing. Another girl with a light brown messy bob saves the conversation and introduces herself as Robin then points to each member,

'You've clearly met Dustin and unfortunately, Steve. Then Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and the rugrats are Max, El, Mike, Will and Lucas.’

Robin then shoos everyone down the booth for you to hop in, you sandwich in between her and Steve. 

The mix of ages confuses you slightly so you cave and ask, ‘So… I gotta ask, how do you know each other?’ They look between each other, as if there's a secret on debate that you're not privy to. Nancy takes the lead again, 

' Well we all went to school together. We are…’ and she points to herself and the older people ‘pretty much the same age and then that's my brother Mike and his friends and we've all sort of merged into one big group.’ It's clear they're all incredibly close, the age gap not an issue and a sense that they are each other's family and will be bonded for life. The young ones are eighteen and the others early twenties like yourself. Your curiosity is killing you though and you cave, 

‘So what about the band? Your friends with the guitarist right, how do you know him?’

Laughs are shared between them again, you sense another secret that's not for you to hear. Mike speaks up for the first time,

‘Eddie? School as well! He was kind of our mentor,’ he points between the other boys his age, ‘he was older. He urm…repeated a few years so he's like twenty four now?’ Mike is nudged in the ribs by Lucas now who interrupts, 

‘Clearly, Eddie didn't need school because now he's a freaking rockstar,’ he points to the side of the stage furthest from you, ‘and the other guys all went to school with us too.’ 

Your view is still obscured, between stage lights and the distance, the infamous Eddie remains a mystery man. But you can still work out his guitar over the other members and can hear his surprisingly soft voice blending in with the lead singer's, the band is amazing but something about him stands out even whilst he's faceless. 

Corroded Coffin reach their final song and you're a little tipsy and truly feeling part of the group. It's the most included you've felt in so long, the most fun you've had since leaving college. You've all been throwing yourselves round and heads banging, the gang serenading each other with the lyrics they've learnt by heart to all the songs. When the band finishes the crowd go wild, screams and cheers lasting for minutes. It's endearing as you see the band visibly flustered at the praise and the lead singer thanks them repeatedly, evidently baffled. Once they leave the stage and the lights come on a little, you worry that this is the end of your evening, the end of your time with this group you've known for an hour but somehow you want to cling to. But a little tug at your sleeve pulls you out of your worries, Robin is smiling and says 

‘We’ll be sticking around for a bit, we want to congratulate our rockstar! We've not seen Eds in months and this place will be open for a while. Wanna stay?’ 

You can't hide your grin and nod enthusiastically, your grin only expands when the sweet girl pulls you in for a hug. She's right, it's clear they're not going anywhere but you decide now the crowd is thinning out, you’ll go to the bathroom. 

The bathroom is thick with perfume and cigarette smoke. Gorgeous girls are gathered round the mirrors, reapplying make up, adjusting outfits and taming hair. You slide into a cubicle. Once in there you can't help but listen to the chatter.

‘Eddie is so fucking hot, it's those tattoos. His arms? The way they flex when he plays. I want to eat him.’ A second voice responds,

‘Bitch, I have every intention of eating him all up tonight.’

A third now chimes in,

‘You fucking wish, that cheap ass push up bra you wore at the San Francisco gig didn't even make him budge.’

The girls continue to bicker, more voices getting involved discussing Eddie, his dating life and sex appeal as well as the other members. It's driving you insane hearing so much about this man and still having no face to go off. Even with the information you have, it's hard to form an image or opinion of him. Within the past two hours since you've heard of Eddie’s existence, he's been referred to as a loser, a rockstar, a sweetheart, a role model and now, a sex god. When you finish and clean up, you leave the bathroom, still stuck behind the gaggle of fangirls as they continue to debate the things they want to do to each band member. 

Eddie is exhausted. Him and the rest of Corroded Coffin came straight off the press circuit around California, onto a plane and then to The Hideout. He wants to see his uncle and have a long nap in his old bedroom, he wants to finally see his friends after being separated for so long. It's all he could think about on stage and he felt guilty. Homecoming for Eddie was being reunited with his friends, that's who he wanted to do this gig for. But instead he spent the night looking out onto a sea of people who for most of his life have hated him, belonging to a town that once never wanted him to return. The fame was bittersweet, getting to play music professionally was a dream, being forced once again into the public eye was not. The CIA, admittedly did an excellent job doing a thorough retraction of previous claims made about him but Eddie can't forget how this town treated him because they treated him like a criminal long before he allegedly was one. Now they have the audacity to praise him and ask things of him. They don't actually like his music because his music has always been the same and they didn't like it before. They don't actually like him personally because he's the same as ever and they didn't like him before. They liked that his name meant something other than bad news now and they could have a tangible link to him. There's a handful of people he owes in Hawkins, people who can ask anything of him because they always gave him so much: the band, the gang, the owners of the Hideout,  his Uncle Wayne and then Joyce and Hopper. 

Amongst the people of Hawkins there are real fans of Corroded Coffin and he feels guilty about that too. They've come all the way out here to see him but he's letting himself fall to the side of the stage, mostly out of view and hidden by a strategically placed stage light. Usually on stage he's wild and gives it his all, he embodies a similar state he gets when he's being a Dungeon Master but in front of his former ‘neighbours’ he already feels naked and he'd very much like to hide. 

Once the set has finished and wires are removed, Eddie all but runs from backstage into the bar where he knows his friends are. They're sat in a booth he got the bar owner to reserve for them, it was their regular seats long before he left Hawkins. Every single one of them came. They spot him too and run over. It's a pile on, a tangling of limbs and hair. These people are Eddie’s home and fuck, he thinks, he's felt a part of him missing without them. He loves the band, they've been friends for years but there's a bond between Eddie and the gang that goes beyond friendship, they're bonded by life and death and the horrific bits in-between that no human is ever meant to know. Once they all untangle, Eddie hugs everyone individually and is then bombarded by congratulations and compliments and he can take these ones because he knows they're genuine. 

His final hug is with Dustin, who he clings onto a little longer than the rest and then lets his hands, stinging from playing all night, ruffle the boys soft curls. 

‘Fuck, I missed you man.’ 

Dustin grins, the feeling is more than mutual.

‘Eddie! That was the most metal ever! And thank you for sorting the booth out. Shit it was all so awesome.’ 

Steve sidles over now, never wanting to miss out. He slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and jabs him. 

‘Yep, the kids right bro. Even I could tolerate your screaming. You guys were hardcore out there.’

Eddie sees Steve’s smug face waiting for a reaction to his cheeky jibes and Eddie is not above giving him one. He lunges his own arm forward and dares to muss the locks of thee Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. Steve gasps and stumbles backwards and away, quickly attempting to restyle his hair as he does, Eddie turns too and sees a noisy gaggle leaving the women’s bathrooms. 

‘Shit.’ Eddie wishes immediately that the Upside Down had granted him the power of invisibility and not just some gnarly scars. Fan girls. He recognised a few, they show up at a lot of events and gigs. On one hand he appreciates their commitment, they do love the music and they are the reason he has an income, on the other hand he's absolutely terrified of them and is stumped by their desire and persistence. Eddie was no virgin, he hadn't been before he left Hawkins and he definitely wasn't now. It turns out that outside a small town, people seem to think Eddie is hot and what Hawkins called ‘quirks’ and ‘uncool’ was actually pretty cool in the city. Now, he can't lie, some of these girls are gorgeous and he may have slept with one or two on some very dark days. They're mostly kind women who mean well but their persistence scares the crap out of him and he's acutely aware that in high school they would've bought drugs off him yet recoiled at his touch. They don't know him, they don't really see him as a person, they see him as a symbol or whatever. 

Carla, who could be described as the ring leader, is quick to pounce. She totters over to Eddie, hand immediately on his arm, fingers squeezing over prominent veins.

'Eddie, baby, you guys were so fucking hot tonight. Totally dominated…’ her long finger twiddles with a curl of his hair, ‘shame about that light though, couldn't see your sexy concentration face… you know I like that.’

Carla is too close for comfort and Eddie worries for a moment his strategic hiding was been rumbled but she doesn't dwell on it. But her words drown out as someone moves from around the fan girls. In fact, the world drowns out.

Eddie’s eyes are drawn to you in a way he's never felt before. The room around him feels dark and you're like a gentle candlelight, the only thing he can process. His nails dig into his palms, willing his body to do something except stare and sweat. You're beautiful in a way that feels otherworldly, belonging as an elven queen from a Hellfire world or an enchantress he would write lyrics about. You don't belong in somewhere as underwhelming and sad as Hawkins. Eddie certainly doesn't feel like you belong in a world he is a part of. 

‘Oh, hey Y/N! Over here!’

Eddie's daze is broken by Steve’s voice and Eddie feels his heart sink as your head whips round to see Steve. Y/N is you and Steve knows you. The neutral look previously on your face is broken by a blooming smile as you walk towards Steve. Eddie could be sick, he feels eighteen again, small and invisible. Is Steve yours? In his absence, did Eddie miss the part where Steve met someone and was bringing her as a date to the gig. His eyes burn at your shoulder where Steve’s hand has found its way to and looks comfortable, like it belongs on your body. You must be Steve’s. Eddie feels ridiculous and a little creepy, fantasising about a stranger. 

Realising Carla is still clutching him, Eddie apologises and excuses himself, brushing her off as he turns back away to the rest of his friends. He's about to shuffle away when his ears prick as Steve calls him name. 

‘Eddie! Eddie, this is Y/N. We adopted her for the night, another poor innocent victim of Dustin’s butter fingers.’

‘Y/N, Eddie’s here now. Come, let me introduce you to the man of the hour…’ Steve’s hand on your shoulder guides you forward, you're still not sure who you're looking for, ‘Eddie! Eddie, this is Y/N. we adopted her for the night, another poor innocent victim of Dustin’s butter fingers.’

Next to the leggy blonde girl from the bathroom, a long tumble of curls span round. This was Eddie, and you could understand why the girl was planning on eating him. The mystery face was unveiled and your breath felt stuck in your throat. You were thankful now for the light that had hidden him from your sight all night as surely had you known this is who you'd be meeting, you'd have crawled out the tiny bathroom window. You felt lost in eyes flecked with every shade of brown which caused your cheeks to in turn go every shade of red. Fingernails dug into the nail bed of your thumb, hoping the sting would shock you into doing anything other that gawp at this poor man who probably spends his life fending off strange women who are undressing him with their eyes. Not that you're undressing him with your eyes, you're really trying very hard not to do that.

Neither you or Eddie are sure of how long you've been staring at the other, although both of you are unaware at the way the other is staring. Luckily the bubble is pierced by Dustin’s giddy voice,

‘Oh awesome! You guys met!’

Dustin appears between the two of you along with Robin. 

Simultaneously both you and Eddie muster up a whispered,

‘Yeah…’

Robin looks between the two of you and a smirk forms, you are both looking at each other as if it's the first time you're seeing in colour – eyes slowly blinking, mouths agape in a little O shape. Neither of you are subtle. Robin nudges Dustin who then nudges Steve, all three now feeling they're witnessing the start of something between two completely oblivious people. A cough from Robin breaks the lingering stares once more, 

‘Boys, do you want to get more drinks? Come on, Y/N we’ll go back to the booth.’ 

You're both dragged apart. You can't help but notice the way the girl from the bathroom who had been pawing at Eddie is left standing speechless and disoriented at the rejection. A part inside you feels smug and you want to beat it away for enjoying the disappointment of others at their loss of something you want.

‘Yeah… you're fucking welcome man,’ Steve chuckles as he claps Eddie on the back. Eddie shakes his head confused,

‘Huh? What do you mean?’ 

Dustin scoffs, 

‘What do we mean? We just found you you're god damn dream girl, Eddie!’

Eddie looks over at you again, you're back at the booth and twiddling with an empty glass and he has to tell himself that when he looked over, you hadn't really snapped your head away, caught staring at him too. Wishful thinking, Munson he told himself. Love is not something for Eddie. He was lucky to be alive, luckier to have escaped Hawkins and then even luckier to have become a musician. There was no more luck left to be had, he understood. Love was just not meant for him, he'd used his three magic wishes from the universe and he just had to accept it. He was grateful for the occasional hook up and fling but feelings were never involved, for one, Eddie didn't ever feel comfortable enough with new people to let himself be open and vulnerable. Eddie sighs, 

‘How do you know she's my dream girl?’

Steve and Dustin look irritated at his doubting.

‘Well she fucking looks like THAT for starter,’ Steve gestures exasperatedly. 

‘Aaand she's so cool, Ed. Does all this cool creative work, likes all these cool bands that we've never heard of but you probably have. And, and, she knew what D&D was! She was genuinely interested when Mike blew our cover and got nerdy,’ Dustin lists breathlessly. Steve hums in agreement 

‘Oh yeah! She was super nice about that, I've never met a girl that hot listen and understand to all your guys nerdy wizard shit. And she spoke to everyone, asked about all our lives, about you!’

Eddie is flustered at all this information, he had kind of hoped you sucked so he didn't have to feel so awkward and desperate. He had really hoped the little voice inside his heart saying 'give this one a chance,’ before he knew a thing about you, was wrong. However, he knew how protective the boys were of him and yet here they are giving him a sales pitch about you, a girl who even when nameless he felt he'd walk through glass just to know. Eddie presses his palms to his eyes and rubs. A deep groan escapes him, 

‘Ughhh, fuck,’ he sees you still twirling the empty class, ‘shit. Fuck. Fine. Shit, okay what was she drinking?’ 

Dustin can't contain a skip of glee, Steve feels proud and his solemn friend’s bravery. 

' Whiskey sour,’ Dustin announces with glee. 

Eddie sighs, of course that was your drink. Cool drink for a cool girl. Damn it. 

You were still trying to catch the breath Eddie’s presence stole once you got back in the booth. Robin’s hand still clutched around you wrist from having to force your limbs into action. Everyone at the table had intrigued and slightly smug faces as if they were waiting for you to tell them something. Nancy broke the silence, 

‘Sooo… Eddie is nice right?’

You looked around, everyone was leaning forward and nodding, desperate for a response. 

'Urm,’ you stuttered, 'We barely spoke?’ Although you were trying to stop the alcohol buzz taking over your tongue and spouting out ‘yeah hella nice to look at.’

The group clearly weren't satisfied with the response. Max takes the reigns now, 

‘Well you'll speak tonight!’ 

Robin nods 'absolutely, we'll make sure of it!’ 

Sweet little Will is next ‘mmhmm, Y/N, you'll love him! You're so similar!’

If you didn't know better, you'd think these people you've known for an evening were trying to set you up with their friend. But as you're scanning the faces of your new pals with narrowed eyes, an awkward cough and shuffling of feet distracts you. 

A large hand reaches a drink over to you, a litter of rings chiming against the glass and veins flexing as the hand lingers for a moment. Eddie stands at the edge of the booth, his warm eyes sparkling and a nervous smile on his face. 

‘For you… Y/N’ he mumbles, ' Dustin said this is what you were drinking.’ 

It was, Dustin was right but this one was embellished with extra garnishes you hadn't received before. A big sugary cherry on top, a small straw and a couple of decorative leaves. You tried your hardest to only focus on the drink and the handsome face standing above you, refusing to let the Cheshire Cat grins surround you distract. Shit, you absolutely were being set up and you can't be mad when those big soft eyes blink at you hopefully. 

You beam up at him, ‘thank you so much Eddie. You guys were amazing… definitely turned around a boring evening in a shitty motel for me.’ Your fingers brush as you take the glass from him and the static that runs between your skin shocks any confidence out of you. Eddie hesitates again when his hand retracts as he assesses the seating situation. Both of you are suddenly hyper aware the only space for him is next to you, oh these people are good you both thought, they've plotted this. 

He nervously eyes the seat and then you, you wonder how someone who looks so confident and is a literal rockstar, could be so timid. He's probably had a million girls, you'd just witnessed a whole posse swoon over him. You shuffle over some more and pat the seat to invite him, he slides in carefully as if to be sure your bodies are not touching, preventing anymore thrilling electricity between your skin. The rest of the group have started babbling away again, clearly satisfied that their plan has come together. Eddie can't help his eyes linger on the straw you've now taken between your lips, he's often wished he was something other than himself however he's never before desired to be a straw. Brushing rogue curls behind his ear, he clears his throat and takes the leap, 

‘So… hey, Urm… did you enjoy it?’ 

You swallow and smile, taken aback he'd even ask considering there wasn't now a non-hoarse voice in the building. 

‘Yeah! You guys were amazing. Admittedly, I never heard of you guys before but the receptionist at the motel told me to come and I took a chance. I’m glad I did,’ you notice you're rambling and Eddie is giving slow blinks, ‘but… um, yeah. I could hear you over everyone else.’

Eddie had no idea who this receptionist is but he decides she may go on the list of people he owes, he's flattered and feels a smile creeping over his face until you say the last part. Then he panics. 

‘Oh shit, did I fuck up?’ He's trying to run through the entire set in his mind, ‘fuck, was my amp too loud?’ 

You feel awful at the clear panic now covering his face and running through his voice, instinctually your hand reaches out and clutches his forearm to reassure him. 

'No, no, no! I just mean… it just felt you played a little bit harder than everyone out, your voice stood out still amidst everything,’ your next words fall out without thinking, 'I couldn't see you but you were all I was paying attention to.’ 

Eddie’s heart flutters, he thinks you might be the sweetest thing in the world. He's trying desperately not to draw attention to your hand clutching him because he doesn't want it to withdraw. Your touch no longer causes static, it's now radiating soothing warmth and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels calm. 

‘Thank you… you're lovely,’ he whispers and you both just sit and smile at each other. You don't want to take your hand away either. 

The two of you continue to chat, you're both aware you're at a packed table and yet neither of you care. You're both desperate to absorb as much information about the other as possible, neither of you wanting to address the voice in the back of your heads saying you’ll never see each other again. Awkward teen years and unconventional families and childhoods bond you. Both understand each other as larger than life personalities that mask sensitive insides that aren't built for the judgment of small towns. As you talk, neither of you notice your hand had slid down his arm and stayed rested on his thigh, own hand tantalisingly close. When Eddie notices, he lets his little finger brush against yours. He realises he's never felt this comfortable with a woman before, he's comfortable around Robin and Max particularly but it's platonic and it took time. With you he feels relaxed and the step to let his pinky continuously stroke over your hand feels natural and he doesn't want this to be platonic but he doesn't want it to be only sexual, he just doesn't want you to leave. The feeling is mutual. 

Neither of you notice the crowd has gone, the bar empty aside from the group who are beginning to look a little tired and restless. You and Eddie are lost together until Nancy appears at the side of the table and gets your attention. 

‘Hey guys, I'm really sorry but we're going to head off. It's getting late. Y/N it was so nice to meet you, Dustin got all your details right?’ You nod and grin and hope he uses them. ‘Great! And Eddie, we’ll see you at Steve's tomorrow night?’ 

Eddie nods and squeezes your hand as he drops it to get up to hug everyone goodbye, they all say bye to you and how they're so glad you ran into each other and they hope to see you soon. Once they leave, the bar is empty beside you, Eddie and the bar staff. Both of you can't help but look at each other grinning and erupting into giggles like little sugar rushed kids. 

‘Do you want another drink?’ Eddie asks hopefully. 

You nod enthusiastically, leaving was not an option that crossed either of your minds. 

‘I'm just having a coke, what do you want?’ Eddie doesn't want a drop more of alcohol, he wants to be sober around you, a feeling he's not used to around women. He's scared alcohol will cheapen the moment or will prevent him from savouring every second of your company. 

‘Good idea, a coke too please,’ you ask sweetly. You don't want alcohol, you want the sugar to keep you awake as long as possible to prolong this night. 

Eddie strides over to the bar, the owner and manager stands behind counting bills. 

‘Hey man, we still good to get some drinks?’

The owner looks up at Eddie then you, sat in the booth but gazing over at Eddie, moony eyed. He chuckles, ‘Sure. You reaping the rewards of being a rockstar now?’

Eddie shakes his head, a little embarrassed and a little irritated at the thought of you being depicted as nothing but a hook up because he's desperate for that not to happen. But he knows the owner, known him long enough to be a little vulnerable.

‘No, no, no. She's no fangirl, if anything I feel like a fan boy trying to impress her.’ 

The owner smiles as he makes the drinks, he's witnessed first hand how Eddie has come into his own over the years and he mocked at first but he knows Eddie is a sweet kid. 

'Enjoy,’ he smirks as he passes over the drinks, ‘you got about thirty minutes before we finish clearing and then you guys gotta find a new place to make eyes.’ For the hundredth time that night, Eddie’s cheeks heat up. 

You're sat waiting and the doe eyes you have whilst watching Eddie return to the booth makes him feel sticky sweet inside. Despite the empty booth, you make sure you're sat, knees touching as you angle yourselves so you can look at each other properly. Eddie decides to gamble and admit that time is ticking,

‘We’ll have to leave after we finish these…’ 

Your heart sinks. Part of you hope some how time would stand still and you could stay in this encounter forever, no journey to travel to, no flat states away you'd have to return to and more importantly no extravagant life for this boy in a band to go and get lost in. The sickening thought that you're both rogue bodies passing in the night and you'll lose track of each other has been pulling at you all night. 

Looking into your drink, scared to see Eddie’s response, you almost whisper,

'I'm not done yet… with tonight.’ 

A silence lingers and you don't want to look up and see Eddie’s face twisted at your desperation. But that's not the expression on his face, his face is soft but shocked and his pupils dilate at your words, letting himself get lost in the thought of never letting you go. A pinky from his hand that clasps his glass, nudges yours which is also wrapped around your glass. Your pinkies hook around each other, his tiny touches reassure you and you dare to look up. His smile is the biggest you've seen all night, it's beautiful, he is beautiful. 

‘Me neither,’ he whispers back. 

You don't know this town but you assume everywhere is shut so you take the plunge,

‘Look… I'm in the motel over the round,’ his eyes widen at your words, 'do you just want to carry on there? I have snacks?’ 

Eddie refuses to let nerves win and take away this chance from him, his pinky squeezes yours.

‘Sounds good,’ he smiles. Your fingers unlink so you both can finish your drinks, you do so in silence, both a flurry of nerves. Glasses clunk to the wooden table top simultaneously. Eddie waits a second before getting up then offering his hand to help you slide out the booth. He drops it once you're safely on your feet and you wish he hadn't. You both walk out the bar, the owner wishing a goodnight and a wink and thumbs up at Eddie whilst your eyes are diverted. Once in the air you both inhale deeply, having forgotten what fresh air felt like after inhaling the thick and smoky air of the club. 

Despite the road being deserted, Eddie pushes you behind him so he can assess when to cross and then safely guide you over. The walk to the motel is only a matter of steps and you're leading him up the creaking metal stairs to your room. Eddie gulps at his view of your legs in front of him, the backs of soft thighs moving with each step, your short dress fluttering slightly and he tries to divert his attention to the ground out of respect. You fumble with the key and lock then finally heave the door open and bounce on into the room. Eddie lingers in the door frame watching your movements, he's hesitant to make a wrong move. You throw yourself, back first onto the bed and starfish, your eyes and closed with a smile on your face and Eddie thinks this should've been their album cover. He doesn't want to stare at you on the bed too much, so let's his eyes scan round the room. It's endearingly retro, he's never been inside a room here before, only dropping weed off at the door – usually to sad regulars from The Hideout whose wives had thrown them out. His eyes snap back to your figure as you lean over to the bedside drawer. Shit, shit, shit. You're making a move. He doesn't want to just have sex with you, that's not why he's here, I mean he would like to have sex with you but not right now, right now he just wants to bathe in your presence for as long as you'll let him. He's panicking and he's still in the doorway like a creep he thinks and his words tumble out manically,

‘I DON’T WANT TO JUST SLEEP WITH YOU!’ 

Your bending figure darts back up, your eyes wide and slowly your hand returns out of the drawer revealing your fingers crinkling round packets of snacks. Eddie realises. You'd hidden food there, not condoms unless Cheetos had expanded their offerings. He thumps his head against the door frame, mortified. You realise and feel awful for him, you'd wondered why he was looking so on edge. A laugh falls out of your mouth before you can stop it, 

‘Eddie… it's okay. They're just snacks and I invited you here because I didn't think anywhere else was open and… I wanted to just be around you.’ 

Eddie is thankful he's holding onto the door frame because he fears he'd melt into a puddle. His embarrassment is eclipsed by you admitting to feeling the same as him. He lets himself laugh at the mistake now, it feels like the natural response to your infectious smile. You shuffle over to one side of the bed and pat the empty side for Eddie to join you. You arrange the snacks in the middle as you watch him carefully take off his leather jacket, draping it over a chair and then unlacing his big boots in order to join you. 

‘Oh, oops,’ you now realise you've yet to take your boots off as your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, 'I forgot to take mine off too, shit, I hate these fucking zips.’ You're muttering as you battle with the stiff zip that runs up your calf, Eddie swats your angry little hands away.

‘Let me,’ he sweetly smiles. Your voice couldn't muster up a peep even if you wanted to reject his help as he carefully takes your calf, holding it against his hip as his other hand glides up from your ankle to just under your knee where the zip resides. An audible gulp comes from you at his delicate touch, your legs are open, his hands so close to your thighs but his touch is gentle. You struggle to remember a moment shared with a guy that was this intimate and sweet. This, you think, is why you don't want to just fuck him because every time you touch or speak, you know it's so much more than sexual chemistry, it's something you dreamt of but never thought available to you. 

Eddie leans over to tug the zip and guide it down your calf, he does it painstakingly slow to savour how your soft skin feels under his rough fingertips. He lets the first boot drop to the floor then moves onto the next leg, once your foot is finally free, you wiggle your toes and grin at him. The way your eyes twinkle at him as you peer up at his hovering figure makes him feel sick like he's eaten too much sweets, your leg is still propped against his hip and his hand is caressing the bare calf. Everything about you is warming and inviting in a way Eddie has never experience before. He cannot help himself as he bends a little further and dots a kiss on your knee. He's not sure why he does it, he just felt drawn to make more contact with you, like your bodies are magnets. There's no second to doubt himself as when he looks up, your hand is reaching out and tucking a curly strand behind his ear and then withdraws, brushing gently against his cheek. You then move your hand to take his, still on your thigh and tug him onto the bed. 

The motel bed squeaks as he climbs on, you both get comfortable, lying on your sides, propped up on your elbows to look at each other. You pick at the snacks between you, squishing a marshmallow before popping it in your mouth. Eddie smiles endearingly at your marshmallow filled cheeks all puffed, he squishes them by cupping your face and laughs. 

‘Like a cute little hamster.’ 

You grin and start to chew as you get more out the pocket and shove them into Eddie’s laughing mouth. 

‘Don't mock me Edward,’ you chide and he's forced to eat the marshmallows, 'but you can call me cute again.’

Marshmallowy teeth grin at you, ‘Oh, I’ll call you cute as often as you like, sweetheart.’ 

You're both completely comfortable with each other now in a way no strangers can be unless they were destined to cross paths. His full name doesn't fill him with dread when it falls out of your mouth and his ‘sweetheart’ makes you feel like going by the nickname for the rest of your life. The rest of your life. You don't want to move on with your life right now, scared this is a one off interaction. 

‘Eddie…’ you speak hesitantly, 'I have to leave here in like twelve hours but… I don't want to.’ 

You'd already discussed your lives, both of you living like nomads, travelling where your work told you too so he knows you're here for one night only much to his dismay. 

‘I hate Hawkins,’ he admits, 'but I don't want you to leave either… I don't want to see you disappear off and I can't find you.’ You shuffle closer to each other. 

'You can find me in Chicago for the next week,’ you smile sadly, ‘where will you be?’

Eddie’s schedule now he's done his press tour is fairly open so he considers what he could be doing in the next week. 

'It's ridiculous y’know? I've known you what, like four hours and yet I just wanna say I’ll be wherever you'll be.’

It's a response you hadn't let yourself even dream of, scared of deluding yourself with fairytale romances. You cup his face, letting your thumb brush against his cheek, skimming under his fluttering eyelashes. 

'I feel silly too. But I want you to be wherever I am too.’

The rest of the early hours you continue to reveal every part of your lives to the other. Bonding over the strong solo figures who raised you, your mom and Wayne being your anchors. You console each other of the figures who also abandoned you, both of your dads. Nothing feels off limits and it's hard to believe the gentle man in front of you who can sew and create intricate fantasy worlds and practically adopted a band of teenage boys, is the rockstar you'd seen girls fawning over like he was nothing but a hard-knock sexy symbol. Eventually both of your eyes droop and your breathing matches up as you fall asleep. During the night your hands find each other again and intertwined fingers make sure neither of you can slip away for now. 

When sunlight seeps through lace curtains and awakes Eddie, he naturally goes to stretch his neck but is quick to realise movement is not possible. Tucked right into his neck, is you. Your face buried in the crook of his jaw and collar, he can feel your gentle breath fanning against his skin as your nose is nestled in his jugular. You hands are gripped to Eddie’s and he lets his fingers stroke your knuckles. A sense of pride fills him that you'd unconsciously sought out him for comfort in the night, your touch and relaxed nature around him feels more rewarding than selling out his hometown last night. He's unable to resist letting his mouth and nose rest on the crown of your head. Your soft hair smells of your perfume mixed with his cigarettes. Gently he lets himself kiss your head and then allows himself to be greedy and dot a couple more but clearly he was overzealous as you begin to stir. 

Blinking sleep away, you open your eyes only to find your eye line is obstructed by the view of Eddie’s bobbing Adam's apple. For a moment you worry, a panic sets in telling you this how plenty of girls wake up with him only to never see him again but the panic is melted away by a tender kiss on your head. No, you remind yourself, this is not how normal one night stands go, for one they usually involve sex. Your night had consisted of longing stolen touches, confessions and life stories. This was more and you smile into Eddie’s neck. 

‘Morning Ed,’ your sleepy voice groans. The nickname makes his heart swell and in response he clutches you tighter. 

'Morning sweetheart, sleep well?’ 

Even though you hadn't actually slept that many hours due to your late night, it was still the best sleep you'd had in a long time. The first time you hadn't felt lonely, Eddie's presence comforting you in a way few ever had. You bury yourself further into his warm skin that smells like cigarettes and cinnamon and a natural Eddie-ness. 

'Really well,’ you confess, 'I think you helped.’

Eddie lifts your chin so he can look at you properly, your eyes are soft and sleepy, mascara a little smudged but your cheeks are pink and you're the best view he's ever seen in a morning. 

‘Oh thanks, did I bore you to sleep?’ He chuckles as he pokes your cheek. You're too sleepy still for sarcasm and you like him too much to let him worry, you can hear a slight self doubt in his voice.

‘Noo,’ you pout, 'just you. Comfy and warm. Help me settle. Wish you could be in my bed always. Sleep a lot better then.’ 

His hands brush your hair out of your face, he wants to remember this sleepy loving look you give him. 

‘I couldn't say no, if you asked me to stay in your bed always.’ 

After allowing yourselves a little longer in each other's embrace, Eddie suggests getting breakfast at the café next door. You stuff your feet into some trainers as he laces his boot and as you leave the motel, you feel Eddie drape his leather jacket over your shoulders. You snuggle into it, letting his smell take you over, you have nothing to offer in return except your hand. So you hold his and they fit together naturally. You both enjoy the feeling of the others fingers stroking as you walk over to get food. 

Over platefuls of greasy food, Eddie watches as you plot your journey from Hawkins to Chicago. The red dotted lines you mark just highlighting the distance that will be between you. Your nose and eyebrows are scrunched in concentration as you analyse routes as you chew syrupy waffles. Eddie wishes he could kiss off the syrup that lingers on the corner of your mouth but doesn't want it to be the first time he finally kisses you. He's been thinking about it since he saw you but didn't want to stop the chat between you. 

‘Here!’ You jab at the map, 'that's where I'm staying in Chicago.’ 

Eddie swivels the map round so he can look. Corroded Coffin had visited a few times now, he recognises the area and lets his eyes seek out what he hopes is there. His finger jabs this time,

‘There! That's a good venue. We played before. It's just round the corner from you… maybe Corroded Coffin can play an impromptu gig next week with absolutely no ulterior motive.’ You laugh and take back your map but when you look up at Eddie, his face is completely sincere. 

'Are you serious?’ You question.

'Deadly,’ Eddie nods, 'I… I don't want to just let you disappear. I can't explain it just yet but y’know, Y/N, this isn't normal right? I don't just feel like this around people I've known less than twenty four hours, do you?’ 

You shake your head, ‘No, Eddie, I don't. It's just you. I really want to see you again. Shit, I was panicking all night that this was a one off, worried I'd just never seen you again except on tv.’

He sighs a breath of relief, 'thank fuck, sweetheart. I was doing the same, was ready to pay The Hideout owner to lock us in.’ 

You laugh and throw an strawberry his way, he picks it up and munches grinning. Yeah, he thinks, wherever this girl goes I’m going to follow her. 

Eddie loads your car as you check out, you'd forewarned him about the potential squealing receptionist who would ask a thousand questions and he thought it was best to avoid. When you meet him back at the car he opens the door for you but you can't bring yourself to be separated yet. Instinctively you both wrap your arms around each other and hug, clinging to the comfort you had now found and didn't want to let go of. 

'There's a real nice restaurant near your hotel too, Y/N. Gonna let me take you on a first date, sweetheart?’ 

You smile into his chest, 'sleepover and the first date? I think we did it all wrong.’ 

His hands brushing through your hair now you look face to face he smirks, ' I think whatever we'd been doing before yesterday was wrong and this is all right.’ 

Once you're in the car you realise you still have on his leather jacket and you go to shrug it off but Eddie’s hand comes through the window to stop you. 

‘Keep it, for now. Now you know I’ll definitely come to you because if anything, I’ll need that back.’ You grin at each other and you peck his hand gently like he did your knee last night. You hope next time you see him, you'll manage the lips, Eddie is thinking the same thing. As the car stirs into life and you drive off, neither of you look away from your view of the other until you disappear completely behind those lurking Hawkin’s trees. 

‘And yeah,’ you laugh ‘he kept his promise. A surprise Corroded Coffin gig happened in Chicago the next week.’ 

Eddie kisses your cheek, ‘hell yeah, to this day I don't think I ever wanted to play a gig so bad. But yup, got my jacket,’ Eddie tugs at the leather jacket he now wears, 'and got the love of my life.’ The interviewer can't help but feel a little choked up and in awe of your story. They watch as you and Eddie gaze adoringly at each other, it's not a state you tend to see rockstars in but it seems Eddie Munson breaks the toxic stereotypes built up by decades of a male dominated music industry. Your love story feels too personal for them to actually report, the interviewer just feels lucky to have been privy to such a beautiful story and they decide to keep it that way. 

[kaizoku-musume]

Mayday Hayday Gift Exchange

I had the absolute pleasure of participating in this years' Ikeseries gift exchange hosted by @olivermorningstar and @lorei-writes, and I got the wonderful @tulipsaisle for my giftee. She has a wonderful OC that was fun to write about and I hope I did her justice. Thank you all for the opportunity to join in on this amazing experience!

Fox Fashion

Shiloh scratched the tabby cat’s back, taking a break from running her stall at the day’s slow peak. It was so heartwarming for her attention to be rewarded with purring delight and affectionate head bumps.

Paying attention to the cat also had the added benefit of Shiloh being able to ignore Nokto Klein.

“Shi-loooooh,” Nokto sing-songed as though he’d not been yapping for the past five minutes about his latest conquest at some ball he just attended. Couldn’t he have picked a more interesting topic? It’s not like Nokto wasn’t a great storyteller: the way he could draw in a crowd as he utilized his honey-smooth voice and descriptive embellishments was near unparalleled, but he so often wasted his talents by telling tales no one wanted to hear, least of all Shiloh.

“Did you hear something, Minou?” Shiloh cooed at the cat, “All I heard was the wind. If only it would blow its hot air somewhere else, huh?”

“Come now, I’m sure there are better ways for me to put my mouth to use than just blowing air, hmmm?” Nokto purred. Shiloh clucked her tongue and turned her face away so he couldn’t see her red cheeks. She always struggled to think up a good comeback when he toed the line of vulgarity like that.

“Be honest, dear,” Nokto said, angling his body to try and catch a peek of her face, “is a cat you see every day really more interesting than a prince specifically stopping by to visit you?”

“Oh, of course not,” Shiloh waved Nokto off. She took a small toy mouse out of the pocket of her dress (it was worth  making friends with the best seamstress in town) and tossed it on the ground for Minou to play with. “If Licht were to stop by, I’d be happy to sit him down for some tea and snacks.”

“Just Licht?” Nokto prompted.

“Well, there’s also Leon, Jin, Yves,” Shiloh counted on her fingers as she listed everyone aside from Nokto, “I heard Prince Keith is a good conversationalist and knows a lot about flowers, I wouldn’t mind picking his brain about them, and there’s-”

“I think I get it,” Nokto said dryly, “so foxes rank pretty low under cats with you.” He reached out to boop Minou’s nose, causing the cat to scrunch her face adorably. “What am I going to have to do to make you change your mind?”

Shiloh raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Do you really think you can compare with Minou’s gentle sweetness? Her precious curled feetsies?”

“I don’t think any human can compare to that,” Nokto admitted. That was suspicious. Usually he didn’t give up so-

“But I can show you a different kind of pleasure that’s just as delightful.”

-soon. “Unless you’re talking about the pleasure of silence, I’m not interested,” Shiloh said, dusting her dress as she stood up, ready to refocus on her shop.

Nokto laughed and said, “I’ll get you to admit my charms one day, Miss Hayes.”

* * *

“Ugh!” Shiloh groaned as she fanned herself with her hand, “Why can’t spring last longer?” Maybe she should upgrade from an outdoor stall to a shopfront-then she’d have more than just shade to protect herself.

At least she wasn’t suffering alone. Nokto had shown up minutes ago, having heard the same thing from Celine, the seamstress, about a surprise showing up around now. And Nokto wasn’t any better in the heat than she was. “I can easily say this isn’t my preferred method of working up a sweat,” he agreed, asking for the second time, “Are you sure you don’t want to close up and go to a cafe? I’d never imply you were anything other than a delight to look at, but you’re turning a shade of red that even I normally can’t get out of you.”

“No thanks,” Shiloh stood her ground, though there was a part of her that couldn’t deny being tempted, “but if you can’t handle it, I won’t think less of you for needing to escape to safety.”

“Such a kind offer. But I’m not callous enough to leave you out here all by yourself. Why, what if you were to feel faint under the-” Nokto sputtered a bit when Shiloh frantically shushed at him to be quiet, flapping her hands in his face. She’d just spotted Celine’s surprise trot around the corner.

“Oh. My. God!!!” she shrieked, taking in the sight of Minou in the most adorable little getup Shiloh had ever seen. Never in a million years would Shiloh ever imagine she’d see Minou in a dress, but here she was, watching the tabby proudly prance over to her, wearing a tiny, flowery-there were roses! And junipers!-green sundress, perfectly sized and aimed at making Shiloh lose her mind with cuteness overload.

“Well, that’s certainly something,” Nokto observed over Shiloh’s gushing, “That must have been a struggle, to wrangle a cat into that outfit.”

“It’s worth it,” Shiloh declared in awe, “she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. And such a good idea! How many people would jump on the idea of outfits for their pets? Celine could start a whole line of clothing for pets-the fabric and labour costs would be much lower, too. Oh, she’s brilliant!” 

Nokto watched on as Shiloh began muttering about the process of the fashion industry and how it can accommodate Celine’s project. “This is what gets you going, is it?” he chuckled in amusement, “Regular clothes just aren’t enough for you anymore so now you need a tiny version to get excited over?”

Shiloh cut off her rambling, a hand on her hip as she addressed Nokto, “When a new line drops, I’ll be all too happy to talk your ear off about it. Don’t for one second think I’ve given up one of my big loves in life. But come on!” she gestured toward Minou, who was in the middle of grooming herself, “I challenge you to find anything cuter than a cat in a dress.”

“Sounds like a tough challenge,” Nokto said, a sudden gleam in his eyes, “what do I get if I win?”

That didn’t sound good at all. Shiloh eyed Nokto warily, wondering what the tricky fox was up to. But it wasn’t like she could take it back-withdrawing now would just make it look like she thought Nokto could actually do it. She would have to face this head on. “If you can succeed, I’ll take you up on one of your non-sexual! invitations.”

Nokto’s grin made her immediately regret her words. “Sounds like a deal. I hope you keep to your word.”

Ah, great. Shiloh blamed her poor decision on the awful heat.

* * *

Well, today was the day. Nokto had messaged Shiloh to let her know he was ready to show her something cuter, and Shiloh could only hope that he came up with something perverted; it would be a pain to deal with, but at least she lose and be dragged along on whatever plan he had up his sleeves. All Shiloh could do was count down the minutes until the time Nokto promised to arrive, her eyes boring holes at the street corner he should come down.

She’d wracked her brain, trying to think of every possibility available, but when Nokto finally rounded that corner, she realized nothing could prepare her. Shiloh slapped her palm over her mouth to stop herself from bursting out laughing at the sight before her.

“Well?” Nokto twirled for her, the hem of the dress he wore flaring out with the motion, “What do you think?”

“Wh-why?” Shiloh wheezed behind her hand, still struggling not to laugh despite the realization that the dress actually looked good on Nokto. He’d gotten it tailored to his measurements and picked a colour that went well with his skin tone, so he was clearly taking it seriously . . . kinda. Nokto hadn’t passed up the opportunity to be as, well, slutty as possible: the dress was a slinky little number, the neckline was cut as low as physically possible, and there was a slit along his right thigh nearly to the waist, revealing pantyhose of all things! Why was he like this?!

Nokto struck a couple of unnecessarily sexy poses, “Because it’s clear that the only thing cuter than a cat in a dress is a fox in a dress, wouldn’t you say?”

Shiloh had a lot she wanted to say, such as “but you’re not an actual fox” and “then why didn’t you wear a cute dress?”, but none of that mattered more than telling him, “There’s no way this counts.” Nokto just smirked, like he was prepared to debate this all day if he had to, and Shiloh knew, with a dawning sort of horror, that she’d sealed her fate the moment she set up that condition.

Maybe she could still get something out of it if she convinced Nokto to wear a dress to whatever party he wanted to drag her to-at least that would give her something positive to look forward to in the face of her crushing defeat.

[wellthebardsdead]

Falûne: *sitting in the tower doing literally nothing except existing* …

Rolan: *walks in* I finally found that stupid paper gods the man couldn’t even write why in the hell’s did he feel the need to- bluebell?…

Falûne: yes my love?

Rolan: are you?… okay?… you’re just sitting there.

Falûne: I’m… okay… *resumes looking at nothing in particular* …

Rolan: … *walks out and heads to the devils fee*

*a few hours later*

Rolan: so- that’s it then he’s just bored?

Raphael: worse. He’s no direction in life. Nothing to strive for. No interest in hobbies or anything to find passion in beyond you… He’s depressed. And he’s nothing to host his ambitions to.

Rolan: Is there anything I can do to help him?

Raphael: It’s entirely up to him if he even lets you help. Ambition is what cambions are known for. It’s both a blessing and a curse. With it they can achieve great things, or their own downfall. Our ambition is blinding, we can’t see past it until it’s too late… and I am grateful my nephew didn’t give me the crown… logic has now taken over where ambition once stood and I can see clearly once more… now I too need to find a new goal to strive for but… I believe I’ve already got one in mind…

Rolan: and that is?

Raphael: keeping my nephew happy… he’s still incredibly dangerous when upset. And with Astarion looming around the very city you live in-

Rolan: oh gods- he’s been trapped inside this whole time because of him!! I never even noticed! He never leaves the tower how could I have been so blind! Th-thank you!! *runs out*

Raphael: I- Where are you going?!?! I wasn’t done talking you little shi-

*several more hours later*

Falûne: *standing outside the tower, now located in Halsins new settlement in thaniels realm* it’s- so quiet and peaceful… the garden is so big I can… I can plant whatever I want- and keep so many animals! But… but the shop??

Rolan: don’t worry about that, I can access it through a portal with ease… but here we can breathe easily knowing you’re safe. And cal and Lia like it here too. *looks over the yard to see the two looking at cottages to make their own near the tower*

Falûne: *looks to them and smiles before looking at Rolan with concern* are you going to be happy here? You were so eager to reach baldurs gate and-

Rolan: *takes his hands and gives him a kiss, purring into it before pulling away* I only cared about my apprenticeship but you showed me I deserve more… I love it here. It’s comfortable, quiet, and you look so happy here too… we can go somewhere else if you’re not happy here I-

Falûne: *returns the kiss and hugs him tight* I love it… I love you… I love you so much I… can we have our wedding here too?…

Rolan: absolutely my love, and the children will need a teacher at the new schoolhouse too- we can teach together!

Falûne: *tears pricking his eyes feeling his spark return* I… I can help people again!

Raphael: *walks over holding a strange hellish plant in a pretty pot* Ugh of all the goals in life you could strive for you want to help people?? How are we even related?!

[citronverveine]

“When you sleep, you snore.”

— #9 from this prompt list

“S’Lang.”

“What is it?”

“I have… a secret. To tell you.”

Hua Cheng chuckled, tucking back some strands of hair behind his boyfriend's ear. “Are you sure it’s a secret you want to tell me while you’re drunk?”

This seemed to make Xie Lian reconsider, at least for a second, before he nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

“Alright then, I’m listening,” Hua Cheng said, shuffling his chair closer to add to the air of mystery around them.

Most of the people at the party ignored them — or rather, they knew they themselves would be ignored if they attempted to join or interrupt them — so they were sitting together on the side, waiting for the excess of alcohol Xie Lian had ingested to wear off.

“It’s not really important,” Xie Lian continued, “But I never told you. Because, it’s not really important.”

“Mhm,” Hua Cheng replied, genuinely curious to know what Xie Lian was talking about at this point.

“Sometimes it happens out of nowhere. But it doesn’t bother me.” Xie Lian leaned forward and covered Hua Cheng’s hand tightly with his, looking into his eyes. “It really doesn’t bother me.”

Hua Cheng grinned, amused. “What doesn’t bother you, gege?”

“When you sleep—”

Just as Hua Cheng blinked, several things happened in the following order:

Something broke somewhere at the other end of the room, the sound resonating crispily even above the music, a shrill scream followed, coming from who he guessed was Shi Qingxuan, the music stopped abruptly, and everyone including Xie Lian looked toward the source of the commotion.

His own gaze remained peacefully on Xie Lian, but the latter seemed to have completely forgotten their previous conversation.

“What happened?” he asked sluggishly.

Only then did Hua Cheng turn around to check what had actually happened, but he didn’t need to look for long to find out, as Shi Qingxuan screamed a second time.

“My brother is going to KILL ME!”

The party was hosted by Shi Qingxuan in one of their family’s properties, big and secluded enough to invite a ton of people and party all night.

However, it turned out that something very important or expensive — Hua Cheng hadn’t cared enough to ask what exactly — had been broke and the party was cut short when Shi Qingxuan panicked and tried to find ways to fix it before their brother found out and forbade them from hosting another party ever again, which, to them, would probably be a fate worse than death.

While Xie Lian had seemed concerned and willing to help, he was in no state to actually be able to help and Hua Cheng had brought him back home to rest.

“Here,” Hua Cheng said as he put a fresh glass of water in Xie Lian’s hands. “Drink this.”

Xie Lian did so obediently, already sitting in bed. “Thank you,” he said quietly when he was finished. He rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

Hua Cheng smiled. “It’s alright, you can let loose from time to time. It’s not like it’s a habit.”

Humming pensively, Xie Lian laid back against the pillows and watched Hua Cheng get ready for bed too.

“But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Hua Cheng resumed as he slipped into bed.

Xie Lian turned his head to look at him. “What is it?”

“You were about to tell me a secret earlier, right before Shi Qingxuan screamed. Can I still know what it was?”

Xie Lian looked confused for a moment before he seemed to remember and facepalmed with a groan. “That… was…” He sighed, taking away his hand from his face. “I don’t know why I wanted to tell you at that moment. It really isn’t a big deal, and it’s not really a secret. I just haven’t told you.”

Hua Cheng tilted his head. “Then tell me?”

Xie Lian looked like he wanted to laugh. “When you sleep… you snore.” A pause. “That’s it, that’s what I wanted to say earlier.”

Hua Cheng stared at him in disbelief before laughing heartily and Xie Lian did the same, before their laughter both died down.

“Is that true?” Hua Cheng asked. “I snore? My bad, sorry for disturbing you, your Highness.”

“Pfft. I really don’t mind. I really don’t know why I said it like it was a big deal. Actually…” he bit his lips. “It’s kind of cute.”

“… Cute?”

“Yes, you’re kind of cute when you snore.”

“How so?” Hua Cheng grinned, shuffling closer to Xie Lian.

“I don’t know… It’s like… Seeing you relaxed, I guess.” They gazed at each other. “I like when you’re asleep.”

Hua Cheng raised his eyebrows.

“I mean! No, I like it more when you’re awake!” He relaxed when Hua Cheng laughed. “It’s just that you’re always so… in control, it’s nice when you’re asleep and I can see your soft side a bit more.”

Hua Cheng hummed and hugged him close. They stayed quiet for a moment before Hua Cheng spoke up again. “Actually, I have a secret to tell you too.” Xie Lian shifted to look at him. “Ah?… What is it?”

Hua Cheng smiled. “You snore when you sleep too.”

— end

crossposted on twitter

archived and edited on ao3

[chimeratouden]

⠀♱ ⠀We should just kiss like real people do⠀🪽

⠀⠀⠀⠀falin ⠀⠀shi/he⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀introject⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀2/3: OPEN REQS

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀i will be focusing on icons, moodboards, stimboards, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀playlists and NPTs. QUEUE ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀NO: viziepop media, danganronpa, proship, endo systems, falin reqs. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀YES: just about anything.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🪽

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀more about me in read below.

⠀My name is Falin and i am a nonhuman alter!! I am the host of my system ^_^ ⠀⠀I will primarily focus on edits/graphics for fictives/introjects/etc! ⠀⠀I am a lesbian and single. I am also intersex and transfem! ⠀⠀Use your manners when requesting, I will not accept your request if you dont!!!!!!!

thats all. thanks for reading!

[asksythe]

MXTX Interview with Risa Wataya for Subaru Magazine P.8 (Final)

Future Plans

Risa: Are you perhaps working on a novel? 

Moxiang: I have not a few works in progress, but because my creative process is slow, for the foreseeable future, no work has taken proper form. 

Risa: If you can write freely without worrying about reader's reception, what kind of story will you write? 

Moxiang: Personally, I enjoy and pride myself in being able to satisfy myself and my readers at the same time. Therefore, I never thought about disregarding my reader's reception. I really have not thought through something like this before, so I would like not to answer this question. 

Risa: What have you been doing recently? 

Moxiang: Recently, I'm into playing with slime. On my days off, I also want to play slime with my friends, or I think: "What do I eat today?" That sort of stuff. 

Risa: So cute. Ms. Moxiang, even though you are so busy, you still reserve time to sit down and talk to us. Such a wonderful opportunity. Thank you! Lastly, other than the stories that you are working on, is there anything you would like to tell your Japanese readers? 

Moxiang: Dear Japanese readers, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. No matter if it is today or in the past, when I think about how my work has been translated into Japanese and read in Japan, I always feel an indescribable emotion in my heart. I am so, so happy. 

Furthermore, regarding my newest work, "Tian Guan Ci Fu," I must apologize to all of you. Also, "Mo Dao Zu Shi" that we just talked about as well. Originally, there were no scenes where Lan Wangji visited the Burial Mound and the kiss on Bai Feng Mt. (Mount Hundred Phoenixes). These scenes were added on in the extra 50 thousand words edit in the new edition. But at the moment, the 'Tian Guan Ci Fu' that Japanese readers have is the old edition without the additional contents. For the foreseeable future, it will only be this old edition. I don't know when the new edition will be ready or if there will be any further changes. I profusely apologize for this.    

Risa: We will work on this new edit with utmost seriousness. 

Moxiang: That's right. We will treat it with the highest level of care. 

Risa: Kuohao-san, please say something to the audience waiting for the third season of the audio drama. 

Kuohao: The third season is progressing very nicely in both story and the Wangxian romance. It will certainly be very exciting. Many details will be gradually revealed, and there will be countless famous scenes between Wangxian! Please listen to it! 

Risa: Thank you both of you for today. I hope there will be future opportunities like this. 

Moxiang: To be honest, this is my first official interview. I am better at writing than speaking. I'm a little clumsy with my words. Today I was so very nervous. Thank you, Ms. Risa, for following and recommending "Mo Dao Zu Shi." Ms. Risa's Mandarin is excellent! I look forward to future opportunities to sit down and talk. Furthermore, I hope I will have more opportunities to connect with my international readers.  

-From Sichuan Province, China, November 28th, 2022-

Translator’s Note: with this done, I will take my time to reorganize all 8 parts of this translation into a single file, proofread, and edit it. My plan is to host this one file on a platform that can be easily stored and shared among the community. So probably Google Drive. I will post the raw Mandarin transcript of the interview too, for people who can read Mandarin to read it directly. 

I’m thinking whether I should put it on other platforms too, for safekeeping, because digital things can disappear randomly. I’m not sure where though. Tumblr and twitter are hardly suitable for archival purposes. AO3 maybe? If you have suggestions or advice, I would be very happy to hear them. 

Translator’s Note 2: recently I was told that my sharing this translated interview might be illegal and will negatively impact the fandom and make reprints of the magazine harder, that it will negatively impact fan etiquette. I concur this is a potential issue. So I would like to take a minute to clarify a few things. 

1/ This interview was conducted in Mandarin and then translated into Japanese by Subaru and printed for their May-June 2023 edition. This edition is now being scalped on Japanese web for 7-10 times its original price. 

2/ I originally got a single scanned page of the magazine (Japanese) and translated it with the help of my husband. I was waiting for further scans, but luckily, the actual translator (Mandarin to Chinese) working for Subaru posted the entire Mandarin transcript on weibo. Subsequent parts of this translation was made based entirely on this transcript. As my Mandarin skill is much better than my Japanese skill, this is reflected in the quality of the translation from part 4 onwards (something I intend to fix in the edit). 

So we have a situation where: the magazine is in Japanese and sold to Japanese fans. The Mandarin transcript is posted publicly on weibo to Chinese audience (although that might change at any moment). I am Vietnamese, living and working in Vietnam, translating from Japanese / Mandarin to English for an international fandom (my husband is American citizen working for Saudi Arabia... if that’s relevant to the issue). 

I am not a lawyer, so I don’t know how copyright laws apply here, or even if it applies at all. Again, if anyone has advice, suggestion, concerns, I would be open to hearing them.  

I did intentionally add in footnotes explaining lingual concepts and cultural, philosophical references, to potentially lean on Fair Use (if it applies). 

That said, I don’t want to negatively impact MXTX, so if I receive official request, I will take this translation down. 

Regarding potential fan etiquette, I don’t really participate in the international fandom, but I do know fandom politics can be difficult to navigate. It’s not really my place to gatekeep any body. As far as I’m concerned, if the story brings you joy, then that’s a good thing by itself already. 

So, I would like to ask anyone who read this translation to please keep this in mind. Fan translation is a gray area issue. Whatever you feel, please consider the wellbeing of the fandom itself, and to not potentially negatively impact Ms. Moxiang. If there’s anything you don’t like in this translation, please just chalk it up as my translating skill not being up to snuff. 

Sincerely,

NPD Khanh 

[shadowfuka]

It really is a hot minute since I did write something, so please no big judging I try my best and this is something like the first fanfic I did

It might be only something like I prolog I think? So there might be more later. Oh and it was a prompt from @makedonsgriva uwu

-----

His birth should go like a whirlwind through the lands, making sure that everyone knows he was here, but instead of a tornado it was rather only a little breeze that couldn’t do more than to get some little leaves to rustle.

Actually the Shi family had planned the birth of their second son differently. After distributing a little meal to the hungry, to gain a little bit of merit wasn’t the worst to do after all, they already had planned to host a grand feast in honor of their newborn son. But the gods apparently had a different plan as among the hungry ones was also a fortune teller, who granted them their services in return for the meal.

Wouldn’t this be a good idea to already know how bright their baby's future would be? Of course they agreed, who wouldn’t like to hear good fortune after all! But well the fortune didn’t sound as bright as hoped.

Something dark was in this little boy's future, something that would cause him a whole life of misfortune. Unless they would hold his profile very low! Raising him like any other child, if not even lesser than this.

The Shi household was shocked. How could one of their children gain such a bad future? It was after this first moment of shock that it was needed to decide how to act now. Of course they would have loved to arrange a feast that was worth the birth of their son, but were the consequences worth enough? Was it really worth to only hope that the fortune they were told was only false at the beginning?

Maybe it was meant for another child and not their little Shi Qingxuan. A lot of childs were, after all, born on the same day, so maybe it was nothing more than a misunderstanding. The fortune of someone else. Things like this happen. Don’t they?

Even if it could be possible, how big was the chance?

One moment for a life of misfortune, this didn’t sound like a good exchange.

Even with a heavy heart they thanked the fortune teller for their services as they made their decision upon what to do next.

But in the end there only was one way to go.

…..

So instead of celebrating the birth of their little Shi Qingxuan, they said as they were told. There was no grand feast and not even a little one only among themself out of fear that even this would cause misfortune to happen.

It wasn’t as they had planned it but it was the best they could do and how they would go on with everything. Because the years would pass and nothing bad happened. Only for the cost of never celebrating any birthday in a big manner. But it was the least evil. After all, how should someone miss something if they didn’t know it? Maybe they sheltered him too much, but it was for his own good.

And so the little baby grew into a young child, with a smile that nearly challenged the sun. Shi Qingxuan was indeed a happy child. Playing as others his age did and not even minding the plain clothes he was wearing, he would dirty them anyway, his mother always said and he was fine by this answer. But most of the time he would follow his Ge everywhere he would go. Expecting as if he would miss something if he wouldn’t. As if it was a game on his own.

It was indeed a good life he had in his eyes. A loving family, his Ge. What else would there be anyway needed? Well on a fateful day Qingxuan should learn that there was actually something that he hadn’t thought about.

-----

That's it so far! >:3 Hope you enjoyed and others might follow step by step, just have to get back into the grove first.

[zoropookie]

RAGH RAGHHH I REGRET NOT JOINING THE HYPERBEAM THINGY YOU DID YESTERDAY OH MY GOD

i was about to, but i shied away (i am shy believe it or not oh my god) 🤕

i hope i can join for the next one though 🙏🙏🙏 jellykat's screenshots of xiao asmr and so much more 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎... i HAVE to witness it the next time you host movie nights ueue

stay hydrated as always everypooks, i hope you finished writing what you needed to write zoropookis !!!!

<3 i'm sure there will be more movie nights in the future, thank you for your support