#it’s so fucking lonely hearing people talk about their parents and what they do together when they go home to see them

[marriedtobigfoot]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[alxclaremont]

you really do realize how truly alone in the world you are in college lol

[cobrakaisb]

what was i made for?

summary: everybody hates you, but luke could never see you that way; luke hates himself, but he’s always going to be the center of your galaxy.

word count: 2.3k

featuring: angst, reader and luke share a vape (sue me🙈), but also friend dynamics, and official godly parent reveal 🙌, reader and luke are basically together (without the labels).  

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next 

“i hate it here,” you announce, taking a seat at the hermes table for breakfast. 

chris, luke, and katrina all exchange glances. you can sense their nerves from a mile away, and their unease only seems to heighten when you slam your plate and goblet on the table. chris opens his mouth, ready to comment on your behavior, but he decides not to when you throw a nasty glare his way. 

“wow, you’re hera’s daughter,” katrina teases, nudging your shin with her own from across the table. 

“no shit, really?” you reply, stabbing a lone strawberry on your plate.

“no seriously, your glare is exactly like hers. i can see her staring at me in disapproval and everything,” katrina continues with a wide smile on her face.

you flash a tight-lipped smile in response, but don’t take the bait that’s dangling in front of you. over the past few months, you’ve established quite the reputation at camp half-blood. aside from being something akin to a forbidden child -- because it was always assumed that hera would never have children -- your nasty temper, smart mouth, and enormous ego have led to a number of fights. all of them were petty, with campers making claims about you that were so far into leftfield you were surprised they even caught on. 

“what happened this time?” luke asks, his shoulder brushing against yours when he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. 

“that stupid fucking lava wall,” you grumble, taking a bite of your pancakes. 

“okay…” katrina prompts, waving her hand in a continue motion. 

you swallow your food before answering, “i love the lava wall, it’s such a good workout, but i hate that my time slot is the same as the ares kids.” 

“nothing new, but what’d they do now?” katrina asks. 

“annoy me,” you answer.

luke says your name in the same tone he uses when travis and connor get caught pulling some master prank. you can hear the disappointment in his tone, and that elicits an eye roll from you. he doesn’t even know the full story, and he’s already picking a side other than yours, typical. 

“sorry, that we can’t all be the golden child like you,” you sneer, getting up from the table to throw the rest of your food in the burning fire pit.

everybody knows you prayed to your mother when the flames flash a deep purple before flickering back to their normal orange. 

“i’ll talk to her,” katrina says, standing up from her seat. 

luke lifts up his hand, shakes his head no, and replies, “i got it.” 

he follows you out of the dining pavilion and into the woods. you know he’s there because you can hear the cracks of twigs and rustling of bushes as he matches your step. only two people are crazy enough to follow you, but only one of them knows when to walk in silence.

“go back to camp luke,” you demand, pushing a branch out of the way. 

“not until you tell me what the fuck happened at the lava wall,” he answers, dodging the branch before it makes contact with his nose. 

you stop short, looking at long island sound through a small gap in the trees. luke knows the spot; you two come here frequently. he waits for a moment, admiring your straight back. even when you’re feeling your worst, you still muster up the courage to walk with the confidence of a princess. 

“the same old shit. you know the story,” you mumble, eyes squinting from the glare of the sun. 

luke sighs. he doesn’t understand why you put up this mask with him. why do you feel the need to continue being the strong, confident, arrogant, and put-together, daughter of hera when it’s just the two of you? he steps closer to you, standing directly behind you so his arms can wrap around your waist. you lean back into his chest, shoulders sagging in defeat. 

“i never used to care what people thought of me, now it’s all i can think about. this was supposed to be different, luke,” you whisper. 

luke doesn’t say anything in return. he drops his forehead against the back of your head, and squeezes your hips just a bit tighter. camp was supposed to be different. you were meant to feel wanted and seen; he was meant to become a hero with ultimate glory. from the looks of it, neither of you are anywhere close to getting what you deserve. 

—

some days were harder than others, luke knew this. yet, it didn’t make it any easier when one of those hard days came around. each and every time he feels utterly dead to the world, wanting nothing more than to rot away in the comfort of his bottom bunk in the hermes cabin. being head counselor doesn’t afford that luxury. so, he takes a deep breath, musters up every ounce of courage his body could possibly possess, and walks out the door. 

usually, the training arena is quiet in the mornings. nobody, not even the most dedicated warriors, is willing to get up earlier than they need to. sleep is a hot commodity at camp half-blood. and so is privacy. so, luke relishes in the quiet mornings where he’s surrounded by the soft tweets of birds, the slash of his sword, and his heavy breathing. he trains and trains, searching for a way to be good enough again. he used to pray, but after years of going unheard and unanswered, he gave up on connecting with his father.

he thinks of his mother, alone in their house in suburban connecticut. she never doubted hermes, even when he left them for worse; her faith kept her loyal. luke wishes that he had her loyalty, but he doesn’t. instead, all he feels is anger and resentment towards his father. he swings his sword again, cutting through the outer layer of the dummy, and watches as the stuffing falls gracefully to the ground.  

“that’s a lot of slashes,” you comment, and your voice draws him out of his own head.

he ignores you, continuing on with his practice session. 

“you know you can take a break, right?” you ask, coming to stand behind him. 

luke’s arm falls to his side, his sword resting against his thigh. his head falls forehead, and he takes in a deep breath, letting the clean air fill his lungs. your hand sneaks between the strap of his bronze breastplate and his bright orange t-shirt. he takes another breath, and your chin digs into his shoulder before you drop a kiss on the exposed skin by the collar of his shirt. 

you don’t say anything, and luke appreciates that about you. ever since your arrival at camp, he’s tried to pinpoint what exactly draws him to you. every time he comes up empty handed, but at this moment he knows it’s your willingness to just let him be. you never force him to be happy or content with the gods’ and their behavior. you embrace the darkness slowly rising inside of him, even when he tries to suppress it. 

“i just want to be good enough,” luke whispers, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. 

your arms tighten around him, and you reply, “you are good enough.” 

“not for him,” he mumbles. 

“he’s not good enough for you,” you say assertively. 

luke doesn’t comment on your words. the conviction in your voice is enough to inform him that there’s no changing your mind. he wishes he believed you, but he doesn’t. 

“you’re not the one who failed their quest,” luke mumbles. 

you openly scoff at his words, letting go of him. he waits patiently for your next move and stumbles when you pull him towards your face by the strap of his armor. your eyes met, and luke swear he’s never seen such fury brewing in them.

“don’t ever use that as a determinant of your worth. that quest was impossible luke, and he knew that,” you seethe. 

luke blinks, letting your words sink in. he can’t believe them; he doesn’t believe them. 

“it was my chance, my one chance to show him that i’m worthy,” luke whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. 

you let out a shaky breath and luke can feel the anger and frustration radiating off you in waves. he knows that if he wasn’t holding you in his arms, olympus would fall. he blinks, and you’re standing there, in the middle of crumbled temples and the debris of ancient ruins with the fiercest look in your eyes. you’re hera’s daughter, and you’re loyal to a fault, he thinks.

“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this,” he confesses, kissing your earlobe. 

“me too,” you answer, squeezing him tighter. 

—

the two of you are sitting on the dock, feet dangling over the edge as your toes barely graze the surface of the water. you always meet here after all the campers in the hermes cabin settled into bed. when he was able to sneak out and away from their curious eyes.

“i hate it here,” you whisper, leaning further back into luke’s chest.

“you don’t hate it here,” he mumbles, fumbling around in the pocket of his cargo pants. 

“i do,” you answer with certainty. “everybody here hates me. except maybe you and katrina,” you continue. 

luke doesn’t accept or deny your statement. instead, he just hands you the orange stick. you scoff at him, but take the vape from his hands anyways. one thing about luke, he feeds your addictions; every single one of them. instead of thanking him, like you normally would, you bring the vape to your mouth, inhaling deeply. you wait a second, letting the toxins fill your lungs, and then release the smoke in one puff. there’s nothing sexy or hot about the action, but luke squeezes your side, pulling you a bit closer. 

“i can’t believe my plug is my boyfriend,” you joke, but there’s no happiness in your tone. 

luke pokes your side. you switch the vape to your left hand, holding it out to him. you wait patiently for him to take it, but he doesn’t. that confuses you. you turn to face him, forehead bumping against his chin. it hurts, but you just grit your teeth instead of saying anything. luke grimaces, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“there are other people here who like you,” luke says.

“name them,” you demand, taking another hit. 

luke takes the item from you, uses it, and then answers, “chris.” 

“is your friend not mine,” you reply. 

luke rolls his eyes. “connor and travis,” he continues. 

“enjoy torturing me, not my company. besides, they’re like ten,” you say. 

“okay then, what about clarisse?” luke asks.

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “clarisse tolerates me.” 

“that’s more than i can say,” luke answers, and you snort at his response. 

luke smiles softly at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up. you hate when he does that. when he looks at you like you’re the only person he could possibly dream about. there are days where there's such deep admiration for you in his eyes, you wonder if he leaves burnt offerings in your name instead of the gods.

you turn his face in the opposite direction and whisper, “don’t do that.” 

“do what?” he asks nonchalantly.  

“you know what,” you answer, shooting him a pointed look. 

luke grins. it’s proud and cocky, telling you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. his brown eyes crinkle at the corners, and his scar bunches up with the upturn of his lips. you think he looks the prettiest in this moment; in the dark of the night, with messy curls, grimy skin, and a vibrant smile. you turn again, so that your legs are draped across his lap, and wrap your left arm around the back of his neck. luke’s left hand, the one previously resting against your side, lands on your right thigh, and he squeezes the flesh there as he kisses your temple. 

“do you think we moved too fast?” you ask, taking the vape from his right hand. 

luke waits, expecting you to take a hit, but you just look at him with eager eyes.

“i think we’re doing everything right,” he explains. 

his words hold a deeper meaning that you refuse to acknowledge at the moment. you know what’s going on, but you don’t want to think about it. what would mother say?, you wonder. you lean your head against luke’s shoulder, nose brushing against the crook of his neck, and close your eyes.

“do you think icarus knew he was falling to his death?” luke asks, breaking the silence.

it takes you a moment, but you respond, “maybe. i’m not sure.”

“i mean he was flying the whole time, and then suddenly, he’s plummeting into the mediterranean,” luke continues, taking the vape from your hand.  

“maybe he wanted to die,” you reply, tilting your head to meet his brown eyes. 

a confused expression overcomes luke’s face, propelling you to continue on: “he must have known that the sun would melt the wax, and then his wings would break. i think icarus meant to die, trying to send a message to daedalus or even maybe the gods.”

luke ponders your words for a minute. the gears in his head turning as he contemplates the truth behind your theory. is that what we’re doing?, he wonders. the brewing plans between the two of you linger over his head like a dark cloud, but he can’t bring himself to regret anything.

“so icarus had a greater purpose…like us,” luke observes, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“exactly,” you answer, leaning into his side. 

luke hands the vape back to you, and you pocket it for good this time. he exhales deeply, engulfing you in a cloud of mango-scented smoke. it burns your lungs, but at least you feel something, which is more than you can say as of lately. 

“i just want to be happy,” luke announces. 

“happy and free,” you decide, kissing his cheek delicately.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @used2beee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcillia @obxstiles @maraschinocherry3

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part one: recording

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader ) Wordcount: 2,198 words Genre: smut. 18+. mdni. don't use fanfics as your only source of sex ed, pls. Summary: your friend convinced you to record an audio for your OF, but doing it alone is nerve-wracking so you turn to your favorite creator for help.

Includes: Mentions of selling sex content. Mentions of sexual activity ( doing things and also talking about doing things ). Implicit masturbation instructions. Masturbation ( f and m ) ( wash your hands before putting them anywhere, folks ). People filming/recording sex acts. Use of pet names? ( baby, doll ). Dirty talk. Mentions of Jungkook x fem!reader but they are just frieeends. Author's note: I started writing this with hopes of it just being alright because I wanted to write something quick but then it got longer and here we are. Hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a comment, reblog, ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

It's been six months since you started this side job. At first, it was a combination of curiosity and a little desperation since money was tight after your roommate and best friend decided to go back to live with her parents. You didn't complain too much about it because you didn't want her to feel bad, and besides, you actually missed having your own space. 

But lonely nights with insomnia thanks to the stress at work, let you to explore sides of the internet you had only heard about in bathroom conversations. Curiosity got the best of you and so, here you are, going through comments on your last onlyfans post.

You've been able to grow a decent-sized audience, it may be a bit small to others but it’s manageable and you like that. Some of them are people you followed before, during your investigation stage, and now became your mutuals. You truthfully see them as your friends, like Jungkook.

He was the first person with quite a big audience who followed you back and you truly believe half your followers came from his page, even though he denies it and tells you it is all your doing. He really has a way of lifting your confidence and that's why after a few months you meet in person to shoot things together, nothing too spicy, just a shoot with Calvins and denim jackets. You were surprised when he didn't suggest something more than that, but Jungkook said “You're too sweet to fuck in a first meeting, but maybe later”.

You thought he was just partially joking, although a few meetings have passed and he hasn't tried anything. To be honest, is a bit disappointing since he is so attractive, but at least he is still willing to help you with fun photoshoots in your apartment.

A comment in the picture where Jungkook’s hand is around your throat caught your eye. When you suggested it, it was funny. A silly little joke about what people thought actually happened behind the scenes and a way to hide your face from the camera.

When you saw it after, it was less funny and much hotter. Even if he wasn't applying pleasure on your neck, the muscles on his forearm were visible under the ink, the lighting and shadows reflected on the skin of your chest that wasn't covered by the cami top you were wearing that day, and your gold babygirl collar sat perfectly on top of your breast.

You couldn't be mad at the people saying they wished to be in your place. You were jealous of yourself, damn it.

That's why the comment popped out between the others, because it was jealousy of Jungkook they were talking about.

[ JustADude: “Fuck. He is the luckiest man alive if he gets to hold you and listen to all your pretty sounds.” ]

Cheeks blushing, you giggle thinking about how Jungkook hasn't done those things. But you have to admit that the idea of people being interested in hearing is a turn on. And maybe it shouldn't be a surprise considering taking pictures for others does but… could you… ?

Your phone rings, indicating a text and interrupting your thoughts.

Kookie: told you, a voice reveal would be amazing!!

You laugh at the attached image been of the comment you were just reading.

Y/n: but i'm shyyyyy

Kookie: you can just record a masturbating session Kookie: and review it and decide if you post it or not

Y/n: if i review it i’ll not post it lol

Is true. You'll get too much in your head and shy away.

Y/n: i barely go over pics before posting because of it

You remember him as if he didn't check your newest pictures for you.

Kookie: i can help too! Kookie: i mean Kookie: no pressure, ofc Kookie: but it would be SOOO HOT

Not sure if it's for the idea of recording yourself or the fact that Jungkook is encouraging you, but your pussy reacts to the words on screen and is settled. You are doing it.

Following the suggestion of just recording a session, you prepare as usual, sitting cross-legged on your bed, laptop in front while looking for something… inspiring.

You think about maybe looking through Jungkook’s page, rewatching his last video, but at the end get too paranoid about him listening to himself in the background even if your mic is hooked up in your bra strap, as closest as it can to your mouth.

So, you think of something else. The image of a hand around your throat still fresh in your mind leads you to the page of someone whose hands you've been thinking about in many other sessions. SugaD.

A few taps on your keyboard and his page is flashing on your screen, those exact veiny hands greeting you on his last post.

“Oh, well… here goes nothing.” 

Embracing yourself, you turn on your mic, giving a few taps to make sure it’s working, “hi,” a nervous giggle echoes your room, suddenly making you aware of the silence and glad you'll have noise beside your own.

Inspecting better Suga's post, you realize is an announcement for his last video, and the line “for all those asking for more hand porn, i got you ;)” feels like is calling you out, but you can start feeling the need between your legs so there's just so much shame and fucks to give left.

A few more clicks and the video is on full screen, starting with an empty black leather chair and then Suga coming into frame and sitting down. His face is not visible as in any other video, but following the movements of his hand, you realize his neck is. Pale skin in contrast with black t-shirt.

“This angle is kinda…” he trails off, soft laugh at the end.

“Hot,” you complete, confident Jungkook will, after laughing at you, delete it from the final audio. 

“You can't tell me I'm mean anymore. I'm spoiling you,” Suga continues in the video, “I'm giving you this view and I'm giving you what's probably the thing you all ask the most for: hands.”

And there they are. His goddamn hands. Close frame and adorned with silver rings in a few fingers. And when he turns them around you can admire how veiny and manly they are.

“I hate him. I'm gonna sue him,” you murmur, because in the month you have been following him, something you've come to find out is that Suga always knows what he is doing. He knows that jiggling his fingers and making the accessories click, paint a picture on people's minds. He knows how to dirty talk without making it cringe. And, more than anything, knows how to tease and keep his audience on their toes. 

You turn the volume down a bit more to make sure it really isn’t audible through your mic.

“Are you sitting, doll? Imagine you're on my lap right now,” he pats his tights and finally you move, positioning yourself on your knees as if you were, as he suggested, straddling him.

“That view would be amazing. You right here,” he pretends to hold someone by their hips in front of him and yours play pretend on your own body, moving them up and down as he does. “Maybe I'd tease you first, play with your tits, your nipples first. Why don't you do that, baby? Touch yourself for me.”

Letting out a groan is your way to express frustration against the fabric covering your chest, unable to remove your bra so the mic stays in the right place. Controlling your breath, you focus on the video again. Suga is playing with himself, hand against his chest just like yours, “How does it feel?” 

“I want you to touch me,” you whisper. And clearly, you know he is not able to hear you, and you're scared you'd sound like an idiot at the end, but you figure this is your chance to experiment being a bit vocal. After all, this whole thing is supposed to be a voice reveal, not just moans. 

Although, it's quite difficult not to do it with the sight on screen. “Look what you do to me,” he complains, voice raspy and hand traveling south to the bulge on his joggers.

“Are you hard?” You cringe at that one. Shaking your head to not let it get to much on your head and sending everything to the trash. Breathing, your right hand mirrors his actions and travels down your body. 

He gropes himself with a groan and you moan just at the sound. Imagine a smirk on his face as you cup yourself through your underwear. The lace is so thin is impossible to hide the fact you're already so wet. 

Another moan and you debate on skipping a few seconds on the video since you need him to do something. Give you anything.

But he is a teaser. 

He strokes through layers of fabric even when his own noises let it be known is torture for him. “I wonder…” he breathes, “how much clothes do you have? Are you dressed like I am, or are you completely naked?” His hips thrust up, into his hand and he pulls it away. “Would you come by just grinding on my cock?”

“F-fuck,” you moan when he intentionally bucks his hips upward, veins on his hands popping up when he holds into the chair. You hate him, you really do. Because he is holding back and you just want to see him.

“Please, please,” and as if it were even possible he hears you, he takes his dick in one hand and out of his pants.

You moan in appreciation and finally allow your hand to sneak into your panties too. The much desired contact makes your legs feel like jelly for a second and you have to sit back on your heels while the guy on screen keeps driving you insane.

His hand moves up and down his length, thumb collecting precum at the tip and using it as lubricant, but when that is not enough, his hand disappears off the frame, up to his face. The sound is enough to help with the imagination and quickly he is back in business.

Your eyes are fixed on every movement, every sound. Your hand matches his speed and you don't know what is hotter, the wet skin sounds or the bracelet on his wrist? Because the silver chain moves as fast or even faster and makes a sound of its own. Ah, it is so impossible for you not to imagine what it would be to look at it from your perspective. If the fingers in your pusy were his.

You push into yourself, your breath caught at the sensation before adding another one, “ooh… oh.” 

Can't master more than a few sounds, your mouth dry, it has been open since he uncovered himself. Oh, what would you do to have him in your mouth at least once. 

“The things I'd do to you.” The recording continues, “And I bet you would let me, no questions asked, right?”

“S-so good,” your knees dig into your bed and you're glad you follow Jungkook's advice of protecting your duvet with a towel. “It feels so good, oh god.” 

“Are you using your fingers? A toy? Would you like my dick instead?” He laughs breathlessly, “I would like to feel your pussy too. F-fuck, I'd fuck you so good, baby. Don’t you think so?”

“Uh uh,” short moans leave your lips, the palm of your hand rubbing on your clit before going back to back and forth motions. Fingering yourself and your eyes close as you enjoy the pleasure, and let more noises flow.

When you open them again Suga on screen has his other hand around his neck, head tilted back. Is not choking him, but you assume he is into that. “Oh… f-fu… pleasee,” he is going to be the end of you. How can you not imagine being on top of him, riding him, your hand on his throat or maybe his on yours. “I'm… oh, I'm…” a loud moan interrupts your announcement as you cum practically riding your hand. 

There's silence. Well, your breathing is fast and the mic most likely will pick it up, but you try to compose yourself for a few seconds while looking at the blank screen that indicates Suga finished too. He never shows it on camera and the only indication he did is the aftermath, this time, on his black t-shirt when he says his “you did great, kitten” to sign off.

The next day Jungkook sends you the audio archive as promised. And is up on your page as fast as possible, it doesn't matter if it doesn't get attraction for a few hours because it's too early on the day, but if you think about it too much, you'd scratch the whole idea.

But not a minute passes and you have notifications of a new follower and a comment.

[ SugaD now follows you ] [ SugaD: the cutest. ]

➪ Part two. | ➪ Part three. | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

Edit: i forgoooot! If you want to be tagged on part 2 or future projects let me know <3

Edit 2: I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series.

[lyrenminth]

When we were together

Summary: You and Joe split and meet years after, he realized he fucked up and is mad/sad to see how happy you are without him and starting to regret he left you walk away. 

Warning: I mean Joe is a selfish prick is we look it objetively haha Grammar mistakes.

"I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry" you said, your fists tight, your stomach clenched in a tight knot. Many sleepless nights brought you here. You didn't know if you would regret one day, but today it was a decision taken consciously. "Are you serious?" Joe's inexpressive face hurt a little bit. He always has this pretty face and pinky lips you dreamed your children would have one day. "I'm breaking up with you, Joe" you stated, not making eye contact. After eight years together it was so uncommon for a WAG to leave this late, but since there was no ring and no signed papers leaving was easier.

“Why?" He raised his voice "Why are you leaving me?" You closed your eyes, trying not to cry. "Because it is better that way. We don't spend  many time together anyway, you are busy and I'm busy. That's it"

"That's it? It's what you have to say?" he frowned "And we spend time together"

"No, we don't and I don't want to discuss it" you contradict him. You had discussions about this topic all the time.

"Well, I want to. You can't leave me, we have been together eight years"

 "And that's enough for me" you said harshly, Joe expression was a hurt one, like you just slapped him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude" you sighed, tired and wanting to be as far away from him as possible. You told you closest friends and your family in advance about your decision. You friends weren't so convinced since you had stability with Joe, but your parents were more understanding about the matter. You didn't know why love vanished from you. Maybe it was the routine or how lonely you felt during the season, but one day you woke up and saw Joe as a roommate rather than a boyfriend. And his house started to feel foreign, and his presence wasn't wonderful anymore. And you thought the feeling would be temporary because everyone loved Joe, and you should too. He gave you many things other men could never, but it wasn't enough. You tried to loved him again, going to dates, dressing cute but in general the experience felt so bad. And the blame drown you. How could you think even for a moment to leave a man like him? Handsome, athletic, rich, popular and down-to-earth. "If you leave him, you are going to regret it deeply" a friend told you "You are not gonna find someone like him elsewhere" Maybe you don't, maybe you would regret it for life. But crying every night wasn't your long term option. You couldn’t live like this forever. You weren't attracted to him anymore, a sour and true feeling. And if you brain were smarter, you would have stayed and enjoy the expensive lifestyle, but since your heart was slowly dying you decide to leave."If it is what you truly want, then what can I do?" He said sadly. He wasn’t even fighting for this  "But let not make a mess about it, it wouldn’t be good for my image"

You don't. People didn't realize Joe was single after a couple of months later during a interview when he denied to have girlfriend. 

***

You built a new life far away from anything football related. You stayed in contact with some of the girls, but always went out during the off-season and never talked about Joe or football in your presence. Sometimes you felt like an outcast but they truly enjoyed your company. You noticed Joe's popularity rise and you watched his commercials in public spaces. When you moved for a job opportunity in another country you got the news that he won his first Super Bowl ring and you were happy for him. You reminded him fondly. You bet he hated all the attention he was receiving, but it was the way it was. After his win, you didn't hear about him at all, until you went back to America, now as a married woman. You saw each other at a wedding from a friend in common. You genuinely thought Matt would never get married, so when you received the invitation you had to see it first hand. You saw Joe in the ceremony, he was dating a beautiful woman that you knew later was a model. You made eye contact across the crowd, it was just a second but you could tell he was surprised. Then his eyes focused on the person next to you, your husband. You felt a little guilty not knowing why. You made a life after him, not avoidable.

You enjoyed the wedding, chatting with old friends and catching up, meeting their partners and babies. A few of them didn't know you were married and you introduce them to your husband. When the party started, you dance together. Your hubby was a good dancer, and both enjoyed the party between laughs and alcohol. 

  ***

Joe hated it. He felt fucking sick. 

You were gorgeous as you always were, your blue dress flying around, your naked back he touched many times before. Your childish smile...How could you do so well without him? He was hurt, his ego was hurt. His pride didn't let him to approach you, but when he saw you leave to the gardens, his feet started moving. He wanted to see you again, touch you. See how much you have changed. Why do you married someone else and not him. Why do you moved on when he still had a little silly hope that got crushed when he saw that ring in your finger. Why he wasn't enough? Why, why, why. He loved you so much, and he failed in many ways. You were a simple woman, you never cared about money or luxury things, but the things you care for he couldn't give it to you. Against his pride, he had to admitted to himself that letting you go and letting your relationship sour and die was the only regret of his life. So when he saw you in that bench, staring at the night sky he felt sad. Hurting from memories. You always saw him as Joe Burrow, the guy from Athens, fan of Starts Wars and geeky stuff, the perfectionist and grumpy man. The insecure boy about his teeth and appearance. The anxious man who people has never seen on screen. You knew those sides of him. He loved you since college and those feelings punched him in the gut watching you there. 

He walked towards you in silence, when you looked up to him, you got startled. "Joe" your voice sounded strained, surprised. You looked older, your hair had its natural color. When he entered to the NFL you decided to dye it blonde, but always loved your brown hair. 

"Hello" he said, a little nervous.

"What are you doing here?" you stand up, looking around. You were alone.

"I want to talk to you"

"Oh, about...what" you asked, flat.

"I wanted to see how are you doing" he shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I'm doing well" you said, looking at his blue eyes. The black suit made wonders on him. "I'm married know, I live in London, have you been? It's a nice city" you babble. He felt a sharp pain across his chest. "No, no, you know..." he started.

"You don't like long flights" you finished for him. A short silence between you. The tension rising.

"Can I sit? " He got closer and took a seat, you sat down a few inches apart rigid. "You are dating someone I suppose?" Joe nodded without hesitation. "Nothing serious she wanted help with her model career, I'm helping her until she gets a contract" he shrugged.

 "Oh, that's...well, good for her" he smiled a little bit, he was still staring, studying your face. He noticed a few white hairs too, but your eyes were kind as always. Your lips were red and plump as he remembers. 

 "I can't believe Matt got married" you said, looking the flowers in front of you. "Yeah, I have been wishing many things tonight" he replied as a joke.

"Like what?" He shrugged with nothing to say apparently. The true was he didn’t want to say it out loud.

 "Winning another Super Bowl?" You added. "Did you watch the game?" he asked, hopeful. It was a great moment in his career.

"No, I couldn't" you answer disappointed  him. You were beating him without knowing. Damn you were completely over him. And why you shouldn't? You were resilient, strong on your own. What a selfish piece of crap he was. When you broke up with him, he thought you were going to comeback to him after a couple of months, when that didn't happen he thought you needed time, and when that time become years he realized he fucked up. Of course, you were dating Joe Burrow the guy from Athens, not Joe Burrow the Superstar Quarterback. Because yes, you break up with him because he didn't pay attention to the relationship. Because he thought you were staying no matter what. He took you from granted and he lost you.

"Are you ok? You look tired" He hear you voice and went back to his senses. "Yeah, it has been a long day" 

"Well, I'm happy you are doing well, Joe" he looked you, your answer was genuine he could tell. You were smiling at him. “I hope you continue your career as healthy as you could be. I wish you the best, truly”

He stared at you long and hard. He felt a sting in his eyes and looked down. How could you be so kind after so many years? and why it seemed like another goodbye from you?

"Yeah, thank you" he coughed “I wish you well too. Can I asked you something?”

“Yes, go ahead”

“Are you happy with him?” he asked.

You blushed. "Yes, I am" He sighed feeling suddenly more older and tired than ever. "Glad to hear, you deserved it”

“You are going to find someone too, Joe” if you were trying to comfort him, it didn’t work. It was pretty much the opposite.

 “I need to come back. Take care" He stood up. He walked a couple of steps when he turned around and said:

"Just for the record, I also wish I had done things differently when we were together" 

[skazoo]

heat waves.

↳ choi san x f!reader, implied past sakura miyawaki x f!reader

summer sucks and so does your boyfriend. you love him tho, so that's ok.

length. 5.5k

genre. vampire!san, crack, fluff and very little angst (unbelievable)

warnings/tags. language, mention of blood, mention of sex, i think that's it??

networks. @kflixnet

notes. woohoo!!! first ateez fic!!! not much to say i just love popsicle!san ig ALSO i'm so fucking bad at writing description wtf is that?? but also do you get the pun? please tell me you do.

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

san knows you hate summer.

he knows you hate sweating, bugs, air conditioning in shops, and when people say 'it's not so much the heat as the humidity' in those stupid little knowing voices. 

san knows you hate summer, and your tossing and turning and whining in your shared bed is the glaring proof of that. 

with fond eyes, he watches you inch closer to his body every few minutes. it will inevitably lead you into the familiar position, with your head on his chest and your legs tangled together, you hugging him close to benefit from his gelid skin.

he admittedly gets all giddy and internally giggles like a teenager every time it happens. he’s just glad you’re not awake to catch him in the act for he would not hear the end of it.

san knows you hate summer but he can’t help but love the season for this reason exactly.

the two of you actually met in the middle of ‘one of the hottest summers ever recorded’ and from that moment on, he’s been in all your seasons.

FIRST SUMMER TOGETHER.

moving into a new apartment on the third floor with a narrow stairway and no elevator in the middle of july was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever taken in your entire life, and you’re pretty well known for making wrong choices. 

every one of your friends agreed that it was, in fact, a bad decision but you had embarked on the tedious journey knowing it was inevitable and desperately needed.

because honestly speaking, what were the options? were there options in the first place?

picture. you just moved from another country, running away from both your problems and your parents, things which if you think about it now, were one and the same. you’re a freshman in a college you’re surprised you even got into thanks to your messy portfolio. you don’t know anyone, let alone have friends, and sakura miyawaki, who’s apparently the sakura miyawaki —hot junior with a brilliant career ahead of her and a honeyed voice capable of making anyone fall at her feet— bumps into you and spills her iced coffee all over the sweatpants and sweatshirt combo that you call your pajama. 

it’s a chilly late september night, you’re coming back to your dorm from a lonely and sad dinner at the convenience store five minutes off campus, and your wide eyes, shivering body, and awkward incapability to form a single, coherent sentence must inspire her so much pity that she essentially begs you to at least allow her to take your dirty clothes to your dormitory’s laundry room. she’s pretty and smells nice, and in your book, that’s more than enough to follow her to the cramped and dusty room with flickering neon lights and a serious mold problem.

you talk the whole night, you dangling your legs from one of the dryers, and she, sitting legs crossed on the ground waiting for your clothes to clean up.

fast forward eight months, and she’s inviting you to live with her after having to hear you whine about your bio-hazard of a roommate for the whole semester. you’re together now, have been for two months or so, and it actually sounds like a good idea until it isn’t.

it doesn’t last too long. you know the first period of living together poses a great challenge to every relationship, you merely thought that yours was going to pass smoothly.

you fight over stupid things more often than not, you say sorry when you’re not supposed to, she feels bad, you have sex, and you are back to square one.

you’re not one to force something that’s not meant to be, disregarding your mental health in the process, and just before summer starts, you break up with her. it's not that surprising when it doesn’t turn out to be something tragic. she’s still your friend, you’re still living together under the same roof. there’s just an invisible wall acting as a boundary between the two of you.

when the summer you so fervently hate and she so animatedly loves finally comes around, your living situation becomes a problem. 

she has a new girlfriend, and you don’t resent her one bit. chaewon is pretty and smart and likes summer almost as much as sakura, she’s not the problem per se, it’s just that the small two-bedroom apartment is starting to feel claustrophobic. it’s when, after a month or so, you catch them doing stuff on the couch you and sakura bought together that you decide you have to move out. out of the apartment, out of the relationship.

which brings you to your current situation.

did sakura really have to find happiness in july?

you loudly curse the droplets of sweat that form at the back of your neck only to slowly crawl their way under your tank top, down your back. 

you take one look around the small atrium of the old building off campus you consciously decided to move into, then over your shoulder to the heap of furniture sakura so graciously let you take with you, and you’re overcome by the urge to just leave it all on the street, live a refreshing minimalist life, sleep on a mattress on the floor and keep your clothes inside your suitcase forever. 

you visibly grimace at how lazy you are, but, in your defense, you were promised assistance, motivation, an annoying cheerleader with a probable undiagnosed OCD hyping you up and telling you exactly how and where to move things.  

honestly, seonghwa was such a bitch to bail on you last minute. he should be here helping you (doing everything for you without even noticing because he hates how you do things), not lazing around somewhere (working overtime for mere pennies).

you loudly sigh, hoping he can hear you from the other side of the city before shaking your head to shoo away any counterproductive thought and rolling up non-existent sleeves to finally get to work after almost twenty minutes of sweet and pure procrastination.

starting going up and down the steep stairs, you think that maybe you were just being a tad bit overdramatic. yeah, you’re still sweating like a pig and your hair still uncomfortably sticks to the back of your neck, but you’re working relatively quickly and you’re finally seeing progress! who needs help? from a man, nonetheless? seonghwa can go to hell with his big words like irresponsibility, laziness, immaturity, and weaponized incompetence that he throws at you every time you beg him to help you with something.

this little emancipated-woman moment lasts for about an hour when you realize how right your best friend actually is in calling you dumb, and the real reason for everything going so smoothly and without that much of an effort finally reveals itself. having moved all the useless and light things first, your bigger furniture remains sitting on the street, tanning under a bright summer sun.

now you stand alone at the top of the first flight of stairs. a wanderer above a sea of silence and embarrassment. the bed structure you just left tumbling down the steps with a loud noise after trying to dangerously drag it to your apartment on your own, stares at you mockingly.   

and yet, the only thing you can think about is that when it fell, the headboard banged against the staircase wall and didn’t leave any mark, so at least the old building is not made of cardboard and won’t fly away at the next thunderstorm in a wizard of oz type of fashion.

two floors above you a door slams open and a deep, angry voice cascades on you from the heavens, judging for your sins and damning you to an afterlife of suffering in the fiery pits of the equivalent for stupid people of hell.

“what the fuck is happening in this forsaken building!? some people are trying to sleep, for fuck’s sake!”

you hear him before you see him but nothing about his voice could have prepared you to witness the hunk of a man hurling himself down the stairs to see your crouched and sad form pitifully sitting on the last step of the stairs, knees close to your chest and eyes looking at the consequences of your actions through fissures of your hands pressed in shame on your face. 

you know he’s standing behind you from the furious huffs coming from his nostrils every two or three seconds, and you slowly —comically, under other circumstances— turn your head to look at him, hovering over you, blazing glare pinning you down.

“was it you? who- what are you doing?”

“i dropped my bed…”

he passes an aggressive hand through his dark hair. “what the fuck does that mean?”

you silently point to the furniture at the bottom of the stairs, resigned eyes staying on his confused face.

“how did- you woke me up. i just fell asleep.”

“it’s almost noon.” you point out. “and it’s tuesday…”

he presses his lips in a thin line seemingly getting where you’re coming from.

then it dawns on you. almost too obvious considering the people you hang out with. “oh my god don’t tell me- you’re a vampire?”

“i am- wait- how did you- and why do you sound disappointed, what the fuck?”

you shake your head dismissively. “oh, it’s not you, i swear. i just thought i’d meet a normal person for once.” your attention is back to your bed, assessing how to bring it to the third floor and missing the man’s shocked expression. if they could, his eyes would pop off their socket.

“for once?” 

you shoo his disbelief away with a wave of your hand, leaving him gaping at you like a fish out of water. “i’m- who are you?”

you simply shrug. “oh, i’m YN. i’m moving here.”

he’s funny, you think. right hand propped on his hip, left hand massaging the bridge of his nose while he takes deep breaths, he looks just like the old lady that lived down your street when you were little, and that had something to say every time you and your brothers played outside.

“are you okay? do you need to sit down?” you gently pat the space near you on the step you’re sitting on. a worried smile playing on your lips.

he glares at you from over his hand and scoffs loudly. “look, i really don’t know how you know, but i am a vampire and i do need to rest every once in a while. so just- just do what you have to do but do it quietly.”

you frown as he turns around, surely intent to barricade himself back into his house. 

is he really going to make you ask for it?

you have to bury all your pride —which at this point is not a lot– to stop him from leaving. “can you help me?” a whisper that you know he hears loud and clear as his head snaps back to you and his body stills halfway up the first flight of stairs.

“what?”

you feign innocence, looking at everything but him. “what?”

his face contorts weirdly, and you don’t understand if he’s about to cry his eyes out in front of you out of frustration or scream at your face before snapping your neck and going back to sleep like this is just another tuesday for him. what you do not expect is the loud snort that he lets out like you just said the most hilarious thing ever.

he looks at you again with the neighbor-lady pose and a surprised smile on his lips. “you want me to help you?”

you shrug, admittedly a little bit embarrassed at the condescending tone he’s using. you feel like a child before him, and in terms of years on this earth you probably are. “well-” you point at the furniture you just dropped down the stairs ”-the bed is not going to bring itself up the stairs and we clearly established that i’m not physically capable of doing it alone, so…”

he cocks his head and blinks blankly at you.

“you want me to say please? because i will-”

“say please.” he cuts you off and graces you with a smug smirk.

it’s hard to be annoyed when his voice sends a weird shiver down your back. “please, will you be so generous and help me bring the heavy stuff up these ridiculously steep stairs? like really, why are they so-”

“yes, dear neighbor. i will help you. thank you for asking so nicely.” and before you can say anything else, he’s already picking up the bed structure and carrying it up to your apartment without breaking as much as a sweat, and you’re left to stare at him at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded and admittedly a little attracted to this weird man too.

in no time the unsurprisingly strong vampire has managed to clear the street of your possessions and is now awkwardly standing in the middle of your small apartment, seemingly waiting for you to send him on his way.

“everything is here,” you state matter-of-factly, nibbling nervously at your lower lip and rocking on the balls of your feet.

he nods his head once and when you don’t say anything else, he looks at you with confused eyes. “do you need me for anything else or…?”

you’re quick to shake your head and offer him a thankful smile. “thank you, though.”

“no problem.” another beat of weird silence. “then i’ll… i’ll go,” he bids you a polite goodbye and starts walking to the door before you stop him with a shy hand on his cold forearm and a look that’s hopefully conveying how truly thankful you are for his help. without him you would still be sitting on the stairs wallowing in self-pity, waiting for a tired seonghwa to put you back in a tranquil state of mind.

“hey, i just wanted to- i really am sorry, okay? for waking you up, i mean, but i really hate summer and- and my friend seonghwa says i’m dumb, and he’s right because why the hell did i even try to drag the bed up the stairs alone? but he says that i have a problem with logical thinking and that i do stupid shit because of that, so maybe that’s why…? and he also says i’m a public danger and that i don’t read social cues, and that i say things to people and don't even realize it and- and i asked if you were a vampire and maybe i offended you and-”

“sounds like a shitty friend to me.” the cute smile on his lips makes you literally melt where you stand, and you’d be at a loss for words if you didn’t have a best friend whose reputation you have to save just after ruining it.

“no! i swear he’s the best! he’s- he's my voice of reason and- you know what, you should meet him, look i’ll call him now.” you reach for your phone in the pack pocket of your pants.

“YN.”

you stop halfway through clicking on seonghwa’s contact. “yes?”

he laughs a little. “it’s really not that deep, okay? i was just tired and i made it bigger than it actually is. so you don’t have to worry about it, and please don’t call your friend.”

“okay…”

a small satisfied nod, and he’s ready to go back to sleep, hopefully before the day ends.

“wait!”

he turns around yet again. his furrowed eyebrows and the small pout of curiosity on his mouth make you want to touch his face, just to feel if it’s soft or not. 

“do you… do you want to stay? i have blood if you want.”

he chokes on spit and you bite your cheeks to keep from bursting out laughing.

when he’s back to functioning normally he considers the invitation and nods slowly, following you to the small kitchen table he just took up the stairs.

he sits on one of the two chairs and looks at the almost empty refrigerator. some bags of blood, a carton of almond milk, and some weird bottles that san thinks he's seen before at hongjoong's place, the witch usually brewing the potions to help with his friends' hangovers. just who are you friends with? 

“how did you even bring the fridge here?”

you put a full glass of red liquid with a bright yellow straw in front of him. “it was already here when i came to take a look around. did your apartment not have one?”

he hums to confirm while taking a small box out of the pocket of his hoodie, and you can’t contain the amused gasp you let out.

“do you have fake fangs?!”

he puts something in the box and closes it, glaring at you with an offended hand on his chest. “my fangs are very much real, thank you. this is just my retainer.”

your laugh comes out before you can stop it, and he just sits there, in your packed apartment, a hurt frown on his pale face, aggressively sipping blood like a wronged child. 

san knows you hate summer, but he’s happy that sakura miyawaki decided to find happiness in july.

SECOND SUMMER TOGETHER.

“hwa, i swear i’m okay, alright? it was a busy day at work and i forgot to charge it. i’m sorry i didn't answer your calls. i know you were worried.” phone balanced between your right cheek and shoulder, you maddeningly fish for your keys in your work bag to unlock the entrance door of the old, silent building.

it’s almost one in the morning, the family with the little kid on the fourth floor and the two old couples on the first have been asleep for at least three hours, and you’re trying to keep your late-night noises to a minimum, climbing the stairs on your tiptoes and being careful to not let your keychain clang against the metal railing. 

when you reach the second floor and you realize that you forgot your very late dinner in your car parked fifteen minutes away because you couldn’t find a spot near the apartment, that’s when your resolve crumbles under the stress and the tiredness, taking you with it in the process. 

with a quick, strangled goodbye to seonghwa, you hang up the phone and loudly plop down on the last step of the first floor, just in front of a familiar door. head in your hands, tears of frustration collecting on your lower lash line. 

to say that you’re ready to give up would be an understatement.

if someone had told you you’d be going to university in the morning, work the first job after lunch, study, and then work your second job till after midnight and still not be able to pay rent without delays, you wouldn't have moved out of sakura’s apartment. hell, maybe you wouldn’t have moved out of your childhood home.

that’s actually a lie and you know it but these last few horribly hot and humid days have been making you question if you actually are as strong as you’ve always thought yourself to be. forgetting dinner in the car was just the last, short straw, that caused the tolerance for the frantic pace you’ve been living at to overflow, drowning you in doubts and paranoia. 

you hear the door behind you slowly open but your head remains in your hands while tears silently make their way down your reddened cheeks.

“hey, baby.”

you let yourself smile through the pain at his calm voice and silly pet name you love to hate.

“hi, sannie…”

“are you okay?”

still not looking at him, you slowly shake your head no, missing the fond look that takes on his features. 

“what’s the problem?”

you scoff. your life right now is just a bunch of problems in a trenchcoat, where do you even begin to tell him what’s wrong?

“if you turn me into a vampire do you think it’ll count as dying according to my life insurance policy?”

he laughs while leaning his side against the door frame, arms crossed and defined biceps standing out in his ‘this is the skin of a killer’ tank top…?

“what are you w-”

“i lost a bet to yeosang.” he closes his eyes in embarrassed contemplation.

“what-”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

you raise your hands in defeat, biting your lower lip to suppress a laugh. your exhausting frustrations are almost completely forgotten. “okay… killer.”

he groans loudly. “look, i was going to ask you if you wanted to talk about it but apparently bullying me is all it takes to feel better.”

you chuckle. “for being centuries old you sure are such a baby, sannie. yes, i want to talk about it, maybe just not where we can wake everyone up?”

he throws one last glare at you before turning and inviting you into his home. “did you have dinner?”

you take off your shoes and unceremoniously drop yourself on the fancy couch in his big living room. “nope. that’s one of the reasons i was crying, actually.”

without saying anything he gets to work at the stove he apparently uses just for you. “don’t they let you eat before you start your shift? i heard you talking to seonghwa.”

“were you eavesdropping, sannie?”

he shrugs. “i hear everything that happens here. i can’t just plug my ears every time someone’s on the phone.”

you chuckle at his old man antics. “they’d let me eat but i barely make it on time every day. i go there directly from the library, i just don’t have time.”

a small hum to signal that he’s listening.

“the problem is,” you start, popping your head from behind the headrest of the couch to look at him work his magic on your food, “that even if i kill myself at work every damned day, i’m still not able to live without worries. if i want to eat i can’t pay rent on time, and it’s fucking tiring.”

“stop renting and just buy.”

silence. 

you stare at the back of his head, and he must notice because he turns around with a questioning look on his face. “what?”

“‘just buy’? really?” you deadpan, “respectfully and all, but when you bought this apartment they were still using goats to buy stuff, san. that’s why you live in a huge ass house while i barely can afford a glorified closet.”

he turns to his stove muttering under his breath that he’s ‘not that old’.

you plop back down on the soft cushions. “i just want to be able to live the life i know i am worthy of. i work hard, i study hard, and i can’t even sleep without being scared of getting thrown out on the streets. and on top of that, my AC is not working and every time i step foot into that nightmare of an apartment i’m always on the verge of throwing myself out the fucking window.” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “i just wish something deus ex machina-style would happen to me to get me out of this misery.”

“you could come live with me.”

san hears you fall off the couch and on your ass.

“what?”

he switches off the stove and walks to his mahogany table at the center of the room, telling you that dinner is ready.

“i have a lot of spare rooms. you could come to live here, start saving some money for the life everyone who loves you knows you deserve.”

he always speaks like everything is so simple and while after you just met him it was sure to make your blood boil, over time it has become something to help you ground yourself when you feel you’re starting to spiral. 

“i- but you’ve lived alone for so much time maybe-”

“maybe it’s time to switch it up, don't you think? besides, i like spending time with you and you have a concerning amount of blood coming directly to your door every friday, so if it makes you feel better i’m also taking advantage of you a little.”

you snort loudly, a moved blush creeping up on your still tear-stained cheeks. “i don’t know what to say, sannie.”

he smiles at you. his dimples seem to melt your resolve every time.“then shut up and come eat before it gets cold or i’m gonna give it to you for breakfast when you wake up tomorrow.”

“i’m coming, wait a second…”

he curiously watches as you quickly type on your phone. “are you telling seonghwa?”

you shake your head without looking at him. “asking yeosang if he has another one of those shirts.”

he throws a napkin at you while grumbling something about ‘regret’ and ‘welcoming a bully into his home’.

san knows you hate summer and his AC works perfectly so it was just logical to have you move in. right? 

THIRD SUMMER TOGETHER.

you huff loudly, putting on every single piece of silver jewelry you own for your date night with your boyfriend —your dramatic flare making you dig for the accessories in the far back of your closet where you hid them when you started going out with him almost a year ago— and even if you’re not moving much, you can feel a sticky film of sweat start to form on the many exposed parts of your body that your clothes don't leave up to the imagination. 

“babe. c’mon.” san deadpans from the door of your shared bedroom; a safe distance between him and the threat your accessories pose to him. his hands propped on his waist and a cute pout frowning his pretty lips. 

you don’t acknowledge him in the slightest, and he closes his eyes solemnly; your lucky guess is that he’s counting to ten in his head just like how you taught him to do when he gets angry at wooyoung’s stupid teasing. then he speaks slowly, carefully, “so… just to check, you know… you’re angry at me because-”

before he can finish you snap your head in his direction with an unbelieving look. your earrings catch the light from the lamp in front of you and you can see san glare at them with not-so-subtle disdain. “san!”

his arms shoot up from his hips and his shoulders tense up in an exaggerated shrug. “what?! i just want to understand! are you going to blame me for it?!”

“fuck yes i am! it’s been a week, san! i’ve been talking about tomorrow for a week, and you don’t even remember?! how am i supposed to take it?!”

“okay, but what is tomorrow?!”

“just say you’re sorry!”

he dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his chest in offense, and you have to roll your eyes because you know that from his stubborn point of view, you just asked the unimaginable. 

you just told him to walk in the sun without his protective amulet; you ordered him to feed on a puppy; you had the nerve to ask him if he could sell his original pikachu illustrator pokemon card for you to buy other silver jewelry. you horrible, beautiful creature, how could you. 

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to be sorry for! i can’t apologize every time someone tells me to! i have a reputation!”

you scoff while applying your mascara in the mirror. “yeah, the reputation of being insufferable,” you mutter under your breath.

“i heard tha-”

“oh, i know! of course, you heard that, but apparently, you didn’t hear what i have been annoying all our friends with for a full week. even mingi knows what tomorrow is!”

he raises a finger, clearly offended by the fact that mingi of all people, stands on a step above him in your imaginary staircase of respect, and is about to say something before he just stops, lips in a thin line and eyebrows in a confused frown. 

you look at him as he mentally scrambles to find in his vast memories what exactly you're talking about, and you can’t stop yourself from thinking that he looks so cute, flustered like this. not an immortal being at all. you do your best to suppress a smile. 

after all, you physically need to keep playing with him a little more.

you’re not really that upset with him if you have to be completely honest. tomorrow is not as important as you’re making it out to be, but your fatal flaw is pettiness and you’ll die on the hill you’re finally standing on. you’ve been waiting so long for him to be the one to forget something important it’s not even funny at this point.

since you’ve met the vampire, you’re the only one who’s ever had to apologize and beg for forgiveness for missing "important" dates like his death anniversary (you weren’t even together at the time! who just remembers something like that!?), his party for the 233rd year from the french revolution (...), and your third monthiversary (in your defense you didn’t even know it was a thing), and he has always looked at your internal panic with the fakest annoyance and a small, smug smile. 

he loved and still loves watching you come up with dumb excuses, and you just want- no, you need to feel what it’s like to possess such immense power.

while he contemplates all the choices that led him to this exact moment, you finish getting ready —spraying the expensive perfume he got you for your birthday— and wait for him to say something, anything. your arms crossed and an expectant expression on your blushed face.

one more minute of waiting and he sighs exasperatedly, his head shaking slightly in resignation. “alright, look–” arms reaching in your direction and palms out, you know from the soft smile that plays on his rosy lips, that he’s ready to make you win this time– “i’ll try harder to remember after dinner. you’re right, and i’m sorry for forgetting something important to you.” 

victory.

he moves to gently unclasp your crossed arms, and you barely manage to escape his touch with an alarmed expression.

“what? what is it? i said i’m sorry.” he looks so lost and so cute you want to forget the date and cuddle him till one of you falls asleep. but you opt for an airy laugh and start taking off your jewelry.

“i've got silver all over me, sannie. apparently, not even that can keep you away, uh?”

he cackles, and once you’re free from the shackles that keep you away from him, he doesn’t waste time hugging your waist, effectively gluing you to his body. “oh, but baby, what’s a little pain compared to how much i already burn for you? i’d endure hell and what comes after that, marry you in a church if it meant i’d be able to hold you like this forever.”

stupid san and his old-man slick talk. stupid san and his honeyed, deep voice. stupid san and his love declarations on friday evenings after you fake-fight and makeup.

you hide your face in his neck. your blush creeps from your cheeks down your neck, and your next words are small, shyly mumbled against his cold skin that’s giving you some needed, sweet relief from the hot, humid air sticking to your skin and making you go crazy. “stop… we’re gonna be late for dinner…” 

he chuckles, places one swift kiss on your forehead, and lets you go, albeit reluctantly. “speaking of which. what are we eating?”

“italian.” you run past him and out of your bedroom with a high-pitched giggle before you can see the bewildered and seriously affronted look on his handsome face.

“ARE YOU STILL ANGRY AT ME?! TALK TO ME!”

san knows you hate summer just like he can’t physically stand garlic so he doesn’t take well to your teasing. 

FOURTH SUMMER TOGETHER.

san knows you hate summer and you love him. 

he wishes it could be summer all year long so you’d always look for his cold body when you can’t fall asleep during hot nights and hum in contempt as he mindlessly caresses your face. when it’s winter he wishes summer could come faster so he can finally feel the years pass. so he can finally see you grow and flourish and become more beautiful every time the earth does another lap around the sum. 

san knows you hate summer but he looks at you strangling his body in your hold like your life depends on it, and he can't help but thank fate or whatever it was that made you drop your bed down the stairs four years ago. he thanks seonghwa for bailing on you. he thanks you for being so enticingly weird and having friends who are just like him.

san knows you hate summer but another year with you adds another sweet and sweaty meaning to his immortal existence. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Fade Into You, Chapter Two: Holy Ground

pairing: nyc bookstore owner au!ezra (prospect) x f!reader

rating: M (nothing much here really besides reader’s pining and ezra’s charm, definitely ooc ezra but it’s an au so who cares!, talks of money/wealth/privilege, a situationship forming in front of our eyes)

wc: 2.7k

a/n: just as a disclaimer, these chapters are going to range in length. i know some people really love short chapters and some really love long ones, but i’m trying not to focus so much on word count anymore, just gonna try to stop when it feels right (to me)! but i’m sure once we start seeing their relationship evolve, so will the length of each chapter.

series masterlist | previous chapter | FIY PLAYLIST

Mid October

“I feel like these are only ever good straight out of the oven.” Jay was standing in your tiny kitchen, taking a tray of store bought frozen Halloween cookies out of the oven.

“Yeah, as soon as they get room temperature they get hard as a fucking rock,” you agreed, sitting cross-legged on your beat up leather sofa with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. Halloween was queued up on your TV, the big light off with only the orange and yellow glow of the string lights you’d hung on your TV to illuminate the room. As Jay walked over with the entire pan, setting it down on the coffee table, their phone started to ring, the sound of a generic banjo filling the room. “You gotta change your ringtone.”

“It’s for the bit,” they said, tugging their phone out. “It’s Ezra.”

Your head whipped up to look at them, your eyes wide with interest as she pressed her screen to accept the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hey Ez, you’re on speaker,” they said.

“Hey, just calling to see what you’re up to,” he replied.

As Jay filled Ezra in on the movie marathon the two of you had been having since noon, you mindlessly shoveled popcorn into your mouth, watching the screen as though his face would appear if you willed it hard enough.

“Is that the girl you were telling me about?” he asked after hearing Jay mention you by name.

“Yeah, you two need to finally meet,” they said, giving you a wink and a nudge with their elbow.

“Well, I just got back in town and was going to invite you to meet me for a showing of Practical Magic in the park in an hour, but if she’s up for it, she can come and we can finally introduce ourselves properly.” Your eyes widened and head began to shake in a silent plea for them not to accept as Jay turned to look at you with a wide smirk, their amusement over your crush evident in their voice as they ignored your anxiousness and let him know that the two of you would be there before hanging up.

“Oh, I’m gonna puke,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your head fall back against the sofa. “I don’t have any time to prepare myself! I don’t even—what do I even—fuck.”

“Jesus, it’s just Ezra. He’s just a forty-four year old man who’s scared of commitment, not the fuckin’ messiah,” they teased.

“Yeah…you’re right,” you nodded, taking a breath of composure before standing up to walk over to your closet. “Alright. Super chill. ‘Hey Ezra, totally haven’t been fantasizing about you for the last month or anything. Super chill to meet you.’”

“Oh lord. I really do not get straight people,” Jay sighed teasingly, and you gave her a cocked brow as you turned around.

“Who said I’m straight?”

The city had finally started to cool down, the brisk autumn breeze hitting your cheeks caused you to shiver as your navy knitted sweater did its mediocre job at keeping you warm while you walked through a lamplit Central Park with Jay at your side, their pale skin turning pink on their cheeks and at the tip of their nose.

The park was still full of life even in the pale moonlight; lovers strolled together hand in hand to the soundtrack of giggles from children on the playground as their parents looked on, or a few lonely souls sitting in contemplation on the park benches, wondering where they lost that childish joy. You liked to try and imagine their lives, the happiness and the sadness looming in their history weighing on them in a way you could only ever imagine and never feel. Sometimes if you thought enough about these faces without names, you could feel your heart breaking for them and tears would swell in your eyes, but tonight you couldn’t muster the energy to ruminate on anything but your own life—of the anxiety you felt over finally meeting this character you’d created in your mind.

“Oh, there he is.” Jay’s finger pointed at a park bench where a lonely looking man sat scrolling through his phone, the blue light glowing on his face. “Ez!”

Ezra looked up, a smile growing on his face as he stood, tucking his phone away into his back pocket.

“Jay bird,” he greeted them, pulling them in for a fatherly hug. “Missed ya.”

“Missed you too, old man,” they teased, pulling away to point at you.

“Hi,” you smiled, holding your hand out for him as you gave him your name.

“Ezra—nice to meet you.” You felt a stab of insecurity in your stomach as his eyes bounced across your features for a beat, suddenly feeling all-too aware of each flaw you picked apart in the mirror just that morning. “This isn’t a line, but the way your eyes are sparkling right now is making it hard to look away from you.”

“Oh?” was all you could manage, your heart’s quick patter making it hard to think of anything clever to say, Jay’s chuckle finally pulling his attention away.

“Quit it, she’s shy,” Jay scolded, swatting his shoulder playfully.

“Is that right?” he asked, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk as he turned back to you.

“Unfortunately,” you blurted nervously, earning a deep, crackly chuckle from him that helped to warm you up better than the wool covering your body.

“Hang out with Jay’s crowd long enough and soon you won’t be,” he said, turning to Jay. “Let’s go find a place to sit.”

You walked beside Ezra, Jay on his other side, and found yourself counting each step and breath as his warmth radiated against your arm. You wanted to lean in, slide your arms beneath his leather jacket and hold him so close that you could hear the beat of his heart, but for now, you stuck to counting your steps.

“So fill me in,” he said, his elbow nudging yours. “Who are you?”

You took in a necessary breath and shrugged.

“Not sure yet,” you answered honestly. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I figure it out.”

Ezra chuckled and nodded, a permanent smile on his face as he kept his eyes forward.

“Well, tell me what you know so far,” he urged before pointing at an open spot in the grass in front of the large projector screen.

“Uh, well, I’m a writer—“

“See, that’s good information,” he grinned, shrugging off his backpack to unpack a blanket. “What do you write?”

“Some poetry, some fiction,” you said, watching as he and Jay laid out the blanket.

“I’m going to go get some food from concessions, you two want anything?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, just a beer,” Ezra said, tugging out a twenty and handing it to her. “And whatever our writer friend wants.”

You smiled at him before looking to Jay. “I’m okay, thank you. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“No, you two get acquainted, I’ll be fine.”

You gave them a subtle look of terror, only earning a reassuring nudge of their head towards Ezra as he took his seat on the blanket.

“So you’re a writer,” Ezra said, his eyes following you as you awkwardly sat down at the furthest corner from him, crossing your legs to take up as little space as possible. “Is that how you met Jay?”

“No, I actually met her in your shop,” you said, finding the courage and confidence to meet his eyes.

“And we haven’t crossed paths yet?”

“Well, we sort of did once—the first time I came into the store, but you were leaving so it makes sense—“

“You must’ve caught me on a bad day,” he interrupted. “Those eyes aren’t the kind of eyes I’d normally forget.”

“Still not using a line?” you chuckled.

Ezra smiled, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes again.

“Not a line if it’s sincere,” he said, shrugging with a smile as he turned to look around at the crowded park, each group talking amongst themselves like the world consisted of just them, just like it felt with you and Ezra. “Are you from the city?”

“No, I just moved here,” you said, continuing on about your hometown and the stark contrast in environment.

“How are you liking the change?” he asked, leaning back to rest against one elbow.

“It was overwhelming at first, but in a good way.”

“How do you mean?” he probed, full of sincere interest.

“Just…the thought that I could be anybody here—it’s overwhelming but an exciting kind of overwhelming. I’ve just been trying to figure out where I belong in the midst of all this energy.”

Ezra’s smile grew into a grin, his eyes batting fondly at you as he watched you mimic his position, your body now achingly closer to his than it had been just seconds prior.

“What about you?” you asked in a whisper, turning your eyes to face the projector screen that started to glow with the start of the movie.

“Too long of a story to tell right now,” he whispered back with a smile.

“Make room for me,” Jay said as they returned with two beers in one hand and a tray of nachos in the other, nudging their chin at you to scoot closer to Ezra. You obliged with both hesitance and eagerness, once again counting your breath as his arm brushed against yours. “Here, can you pass Ez his beer?”

“Sure,” you said, grabbing the cold bottle and handing over to Ezra who sat on your other side, his warm fingers brushing against yours as he accepted it.

“Thanks, honey,” he whispered, and although the endearment caused your head to buzz, it seemed to be something casual to him, as if he called all of his friends these pet names. A good chunk of you hoped that wasn’t the case.

After the movie, Jay made up some excuse about going over to a girl’s house, leaving Ezra to walk you to the subway, his jacket over your shoulders even though you insisted you were fine (you weren’t).

“So,” you said, breaking the silence between you as you walked through the park to get to the 96 Street Station to catch a subway headed for your neighborhood in Harlem. “Are you from here?”

“I am,” he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Born and raised. My family is sort of…I guess we’re old money. Or, they were. I’m just a bookstore owner.”

“With more money than God,” you added, earning a laugh.

“I’m trying to get rid of it,” he replied, shrugging.

“You don’t like being rich?”

“I recognize it’s a very privileged problem to have,” he chuckled. “But no, I don’t really care for all of it. I just don’t see why one man with no kids, no family, should have so much while other people are struggling. So, I spend every single day trying to pawn it off on other people, try to help distribute the wealth.”

“How’s that working out?” you asked, your eyes fixed on his profile as you walked, the streetlamps illuminating his skin every few steps, bathing him in yellow glow.

“It’s a surprisingly difficult thing to accomplish, at least with an accountant like mine,” he chuckled. “Sometimes I just settle for not making any more money. I price my books specifically so I don’t make profit, I let people stay in the apartments my family owned rent free. My father’s rolling in his grave, I’m sure.”

“How did you guys get so rich?”

“Prospecting,” he said, glancing over at you. “My great-grandfather owned a lot of land that had a lot of minerals and stones, or…something. I never cared enough to ask questions.”

“What an odd life you live,” you teased, earning a playful nudge from his elbow as you rounded the fence to walk into the subway tunnel.

“Tell me more about you,” he prodded, keeping his body close to yours in a display of protection as a strange man began to stare at you too much for either of your liking. “What are you writing?”

“Well, it started as romance, but then I scrapped that once I started really thinking about the character and what she wanted. I figured it wasn’t love she craved. What she really wanted was to prove to her mother that she was capable of being loved. So, that led me to where I am now, just a story of a mother and a daughter and all the traumatic shit that goes into that relationship.”

“What a beautiful mind you’ve got,” he said, his eyes on you as you looked down at your shoes with a bashful smile. “Do you know how it ends? Do they heal? Or does it stay broken?”

“Well,” you lifted your eyes to meet his, a playful smirk on your face. “I guess you’ll have to wait for me to write and publish it to find out.”

“My best friend owns an indie publishing company,” he shrugged. “Just let me know when you’ve got it finished and I’ll help you get in contact with him.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—“

“I like helping people who are passionate about what they do,” he interjected. “And I can see how much you love what you do, it’s what makes your eyes sparkle like that, even in this shitty subway light.”

“Are you always this good with your words?” you asked, bumping your shoulder into his.

“I sure try to be,” he smiled.

“Well,” you lifted and dropped your eyebrows. “Makes it hard for a girl to tell if you’re just being friendly or if you’re flirting.”

Ezra studied you for a minute with that closed mouth smile that he always seemed to wear, his eyes bouncing across your features even when you looked away from him in a fluster.

“I’m not…a partner,” he said, a careful lilt to his voice. “I don’t believe in…lasting things, at least in lasting love. I can’t be a partner to you. I’m the guy people sleep with until they find their partner.”

“I’m not looking for a partner,” you said, unsure of where you found the courage. “So, if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. I’m new to this city, to all of this. I don’t want to jump into anything, I just want to…I don’t know…live a little.”

“Well, here,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let’s trade numbers and just…see what happens. No pressure, no expectations, just call me when you need a friend, or…something more if you feel like it.” He smiled. “Whenever you feel like it.”

You only grinned and nodded as you typed your number into his phone, feeling as though you’d stumbled onto some sort of prize you weren’t qualified to win. You tried to silence the voices inside that screamed at you for even daring to believe that a handsome, kind, self-aware, rich man like Ezra, with a world of opportunities at his fingertips, would want you. You knew that you had your own value, your own beauty and intrigue—you were a prize, too.

“Can I take the subway with you?” he asked as you handed his phone back. “Not—I’m not trying to follow you home or anything, I just don’t want to stop talking yet.”

“You want to ride all the way to Harlem and back with me? Just to talk?” you laughed.

“If you’d let me,” he smiled. “I think you’re interesting, and hard to read, and…well, I guess the best word for it is captivating.”

“Where does ‘beautiful’ fit in to all of that?” you joked.

“I knew you were beautiful the second I saw that sparkle in your eyes,” he said, his eyes flickering to your lips. “That’s not what captivates me, that’s obvious. What I find uniquely interesting is your mind, your thoughts and where they come from, and especially the way you string those thoughts into words. That’s…that’s captivating.”

With no room to argue and no words to describe what his words meant to you, you offered him a simple smile and nod before the two of you were filing into the subway, that dirty tile floor becoming holy ground in the matter of a second.

[ladyfogg]

Who Wants to be Lonely - 10/10

Who Wants to be Lonely – 10/10 (Finale)

Fic Summary: After the ground splits and sends you hurtling into the Upside Down, you come face-to-face with the notorious, and injured, Eddie Munson. Lost and hunted by otherworldly creatures, the two of you have no choice but to stick together if you’re going to find your way home. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Violence, Angst, Blood/Slight Gore, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: Who Wants to be Lonely by Kiss. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Okay, here’s the thing. I didn’t expect to have this part finished and since tomorrow I reeeeallly gotta get some work done, I figured I’d drop this now. Thank you all so much for all your comments and shares, it’s been amazing. I love this story and it makes me so happy that other people seem to love it too.

Your leg is crushed.

You’re not clear on the specifics since you are heavily drugged when you hear the doctors talking, but you know they had to use metal rods to fix it. You’re likely going to suffer permanent nerve damage as a result of your injury.

That was days ago. At least, you think it’s been days. Hard to tell when you’re in a windowless room confined to a bed. You assume it’s a hospital but when two men in suits come in and ask you questions, you realize it’s a government facility of some kind.

Fuck.

At first, you answer their questions hoping that they in turn will answer yours. But the bastards won’t no matter how hysterical or angry you get. Where’s Eddie? Is he okay? Did Eleven close the gate? What happened to all the monsters? To Eddie’s friends? To your parents?

They ignore you and walk out like you hadn’t even said anything. The next time they come in, you refuse to answer them. Fuck that. “I want to see Eddie!” you demand. “Fuck you, assholes! Where’s Eddie?”

“Ma’am, if you could just answer—”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

They stop coming. And you’re left alone in your hospital bed, listening to the monitors beeping, slipping in and out of consciousness. Your whole body feels like lead and you can barely lift your arms, let alone your head. Plus, your leg is in a full cast, suspended above the bed. You literally cannot move even if you wanted to.

Hours, or maybe days later, the door opens and a man walks in. He’s not government or military, and clearly, he’s not a doctor. He looks strangely familiar and it takes a second for you to recognize Jim Hopper.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” you ask the former sheriff.

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your bed. “So are you,” he says. “How are you doing, kid?”

You know the sheriff, having been busted for stupid shit when you were a teenager. You always kind of liked the dude but right now you’re in no mood to be friendly. “I’m not a kid and I’m not okay. Where’s Eddie? Why won’t anyone tell me what happened to him? Please, they think he killed someone but he didn’t! It wasn’t him!”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting your hand. “Eddie is fine. The murder charges were dropped. It’s pretty fucking clear what’s responsible.”

“Just like that?”

“The government can make a lot of things go away.”

You don’t doubt it. “Why can’t I see him?”

“You will, soon. We had to make sure neither of you brought anything back with you. You both were pretty banged up.”

You had noticed your bat bites had been properly stitched and taken care of. When Hopper mentions bringing something back you instantly think of Vecna. “Is Vecna…?”

“Still out there,” Hopper says with a sigh. “El closed the gate as best she could but it’s not permanent. Don’t worry about that right now. Are you okay?”

“No, I want Eddie! How many times do I have to say it?!”

From outside you hear a commotion and Hopper frowns. He gets up and when he opens the door you both hear a tired voice yell, “Ey! STOP!”

“Faster, Henderson! Her room is right there!”

Hopper rolls his eyes and steps back just as Eddie and Dustin Henderson barrel into your room. The former is in a wheelchair with the kid pushing him. As soon as you see Eddie, your heart sings and you force yourself to sit up.

Eddie says your name with relief and launches himself out of the wheelchair and onto your bed. He kisses you fiercely, so much so that Hopper says something.

“Easy there, Munson, you’re gonna suffocate her!”

“If that’s how I go, I don’t care,” you snap at him before kissing Eddie back.

“I thought I fucking lost you,” he says, peppering kisses all over your face.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, doing the same, clinging to him with tears in your eyes. “We did it.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says, drawing back with a smile and stroking your cheek. “We did it.” He looks over at Dustin. “Henderson, come here, I want you to meet my future wife.”

Dustin hugs you, which is a surprise but one you don’t mind. “He won’t stop talking about you,” the teen says. “We’ve started calling you Ripley by the way. Just go with it.”

You laugh. “I’ll take it.”

Hopper looks into the hall and his smile widens. “Looks like you have more visitors.”

Suddenly, the room is full of people, half of them you don’t know however several familiar faces make you smile. Steve and Robin lead the group and you hold your arms out towards them. They hug you close.

“We thought you were dead,” Robin says, trying to hold back tears.

“Your apartment building collapsed and the last anyone saw you was when you were headed home,” Steve explains.

“I’m alive,” you tell them. “Thanks to Eddie.”

Speaking of, Eddie refuses to move, squeezing himself onto the hospital bed with you. You tuck yourself into his side

Nancy steps forward next. “Thanks for saving our asses, Wheeler,” you say when she hugs you both. “I didn’t know you were such a badass.”

“Looks like I’m not the only badass. Thanks for telling us about the bunker. I don’t think we would have held them back without that stash.”

Just past her, you see Mike wheel Eleven onto the room. The girl looks weak but she gives you a smile as the group parts to let her through. You reach for her hand and squeeze it. Eddie does the same and she smiles at both of you.

“Nice to officially meet you,” she says.

“Thanks for keeping us safe,” Eddie tells her. “We wouldn’t have made it out without you.”

“Friends help each other,” she says. “I am glad you two are back.”

“Alright, you’ve all seen her,” Hopper says. “Everyone out. You all need rest.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere,” Eddie tells him.

“I assumed as much,” Hopper says. “Come on. El, you need to go back to bed.”

She sighs but nods, looking far more exhausted than you feel. She gives your hand another squeeze and Mike wheels her away. The others slowly file out, saying their goodbyes.

Hopper smiles at you and closes the door as he leaves. There’s a moment of silence as you and Eddie finally take the time to process what happened.

He holds you close. “They wouldn’t tell me how you were or what was going on,” he says. “I was about ready to fight someone.”

“Is that why you started calling me your future wife?” You hadn’t missed his slip when introducing you to Dustin.

Eddie grins. “Yeah. Well, I mean, it’s true but it’s also because they wouldn’t tell me where you were. I told them they couldn’t keep my fiancée from me.”

“I remember saying yes to a date,” you tell him, smiling. “I do NOT remember saying I’d marry you.”

“Too bad, you’re kind of stuck with me now,” he says, laying his head back on your pillow. “And Henderson is so excited for our wedding. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

“I barely know who he is.”

Eddie laughs and pulls you into a kiss. You relax into his embrace, wishing you could wrap yourself around him but settling for sweet kisses instead. Having him there with you soothes your troubled mind. Deep down you know the fight isn’t over, but you don’t need to think about that right now. All you need to do is focus on getting better.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Wounds are all properly stitched. Also, I’m not wanted for murder,” Eddie says. “Plus, my woman is safe and in my arms again.”

“She’s also going to need a lot of surgeries and physical therapy for her leg,” you say with a sigh, staring at your cast.

“And I’m going to be there every step of the way,” Eddie says. “I’m right here, sweetheart, no matter what. I love you.”

You rest your forehead on his with a smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Eddie.”

“Cool. How many kids do you want? Also, I was thinking of an August wedding. Something small, maybe outdoors…”

“You couldn’t plan a date but you can plan a marriage and kids?”

“Hey, I’m not wanted for murder anymore, remember? I can make all the plans I want!”

He’s so happy and his grin is infectious. Laying in that hospital bed with him, you and Eddie talk for hours. About the future, about plans you want to make, places you want to see.

You’re not naïve enough to think it’s going to be easy. You know there is a long painful road ahead. But as long as you walk it with Eddie by your side, you know you’ll come out alright in the end.

TWO YEARS LATER

The nightmares never really went away.

Doctors call it PTSD, and countless therapists have tried to help you through the trauma you endured. In the end, it got easier to manage but was no way gone. How could it be when Vecna is still out there?

You awake crying and it’s not just from the latest round of bad dreams. Your leg is stiff and cramping. Slowly, you sit up and reach for Eddie’s side of the bed, only to remember that he’s not there.

Right.

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Joyce pokes her head in. “Are you alright, sweetie? I heard you crying.”

You shake your head. “My leg.”

Nodding in understanding, Joyce walks in and immediately goes to the foot of the bed. She pulls the blankets back and starts your massages, the ones Eddie usually does. But he’s not there. Because he fucking decided he needed to go with the others to square off against Vecna.

It was a huge fight. You and Eddie have had arguments over the years but this was another level. You didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why he had to go with them. There was so much more to lose this time and you couldn’t be there, couldn’t make sure he got back safely.

You begged him not to. He told you he had to finish what they started. Not just for himself. But for you.

All three of you.

“How are you feeling?” Joyce asks as the blanket rolls off your swollen belly.

“Tired, moody, huge,” you list, trying to sit up. “My stomach is hard as a rock and I’m pissed at my stupid brave husband is off playing the hero.”

“I know how that goes.”

Hopper went with them too. Of course, he did. They’ve been gone for days, without any word or whisper of what’s happening. It’s been frustrating, to say the least.

“Come on, the doctor says you have to walk on it when your leg gets like this,” Joyce says. “I’ll get your cane.”

With her help, you’re able to get to your feet. She helps you until you’re confident you have your balance. After walking around the room a bit, your leg feels better. You’re tempted to ditch the cane but you can hear Eddie’s voice in your head.

“Sweetheart, it’s there to help. If I can be okay showing my scars, you can be okay using your cane.”

That’s something movies and TVs don’t show, the aftermath of the epic battle between good and evil. The scars it leaves behind. Physical and mental.

“Are you hungry?” Joyce asks.

“No.” You haven’t been since Eddie left. Food sounds gross, and your nerves are too frazzled to even think about eating.

“Well, you have to try to eat. Susan’s making lunch,” Joyce says as you two leave the bedroom. “I’m going to go see if she needs help. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joyce kisses you on the cheek and then heads down the hall towards the kitchen, where Max’s mom is quietly singing as she cooks.

You continue down the other hall to the other bedroom. What used to be a small cabin has been added to and expanded over the years as it became the base of operations for Team Kill Vecna (Dustin’s name. Absolutely does not have a catchy ring to it but unfortunately it stuck, just like everyone calling you Ripley).

You knock on the door and a quiet voice says to come in.

“Hey, Red,” you say, smiling at Max. “Moms are making lunch. You hungry?”

“Starving,” the girl says, turning her white eyes towards you. “How big are you today?”

Chuckling, you make your way over to her bed and sit on the edge. She feels around until you take her hand and place it on your belly.

“Big as a house,” you say.

Max frowns. “Shit, your stomach is really hard.” She pauses, feeling some more. “I don’t feel it moving.”

“No, the baby hasn’t moved since last night,” you say. “I hope they get back soon. We’re getting close.”

“They will,” Max says with confidence. “I made Lucas promise and he knows if he breaks his promise I’ll break up with him.”

“I thought you were already broken up.”

“That was last week. Get with the program.”

You roll your eyes and heave yourself onto your feet. “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”

You and Max have gotten close over the last two years. Because of your disabilities, a lot of the physical work of tracking Vecna down fell to the others. You and Max were often left behind as the backup/B team. You honestly preferred it that way rather than being in the thick of the action. But you know it frustrates Max.

In the kitchen, her mom and Joyce are serving bowls of spaghetti. You manage to eat a few bites but you’re too stressed to have more. All you can do is sit there, twirling Eddie’s mood ring, your engagement ring, around your finger. You look at it, wishing your husband was there.

The house feels so fucking empty. You’ve gotten used to the noise, to the chaos of the group that permeates the air when they’re all together. Your parents are gone, having left Hawkins after thinking you died. You felt it was safer for them if you didn’t track them down, at least not until Vecna is taken care of. Everyone else’s families also left, but the kids refused to.

Kids. They’re certainly not kids anymore. Teenagers isn’t the right word either. Age-wise they might be but mentally they’re more adult than most people twice their age.

Trauma ages you.

“Honey,” Susan says laying a gentle hand on yours. “You have to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” You’re uncomfortable. Your stomach hurts, your leg is acting up, and you just want Eddie to come back. “I’ll bring Uncle some food.”

The women don’t try to stop you. Grabbing a fresh bowl, you load it up before heading outside. Uncle Wayne is sitting on the top of his new trailer, rifle across his legs as he stares off at the horizon.

“Lunchtime, Uncle Wayne,” you say. “See anything?”

“Not a damn thing.” He sighs and lays his weapon to the side before climbing down. “How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Wish everyone would stop asking me that.”

Susan and Wayne joined the group while you, Eddie, and Max were recovering. They, like you, we’re thrust into this scary situation with no choice. Instead of running, they stayed for their children. To help however they could.

Wayne takes the bowl from you, giving your back a small rub. “I know, we’re just worried about you. Stress isn’t good for the little one.”

“Eddie should have thought of that before he left.”

Wayne sighs. “You know why he had to go. He had to make sure this was done for you and the baby.”

Doesn’t make you any less mad. And you’re about to say that when you see something, movement on the horizon Wayne had been watching.

Someone is coming.

No, not just someone, all of them! It has to be. You’d know those silhouettes anywhere. You yell towards the house and take off running before Wayne can stop you.

It’s them. It’s actually them. They’re back!

You’re limping and not going very fast. Shit, you left your cane inside. Whatever, it doesn’t matter because as soon as Eddie spots you, he breaks from the group and runs to meet you.

Fuck he looks amazing. Wearing that damn leather jacket and crop top he dug out of the dresser “for old time’s sake”. He gathers you into his arms and you both sink onto the dirty ground.

“You’re home!” you cry. “Thank god you’re back!”

“I told you I would be, sweetheart.”

You draw away and punch his shoulder. “Fuck you, Eddie Munson!”

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“I have been worried sick about you! Running off to be a hero and leaving your pregnant wife behind! You’re lucky I love you.”

“Come here, you lunatic.” He pulls you into a deep kiss and you kiss him back, your arms sliding around his neck.

“Is he gone?” you ask when you draw back. “For good this time?”

Eddie nods, grinning as he strokes your cheek. “He’s gone. For good. We did it.”

You want to know the cost. You want to ask how everyone is but before you can, there’s suddenly a crippling pain in your abdomen that makes you cry out.

Eddie’s eyes widen, his hand pressed to your belly. “Babe! Are you okay?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“My water broke.”

What follows is a confusing cacophony of swears and yelling as the very injured group catches up and suddenly circles around you. Hopper is the one to be smart enough to haul you to your feet. He and Eddie help you back towards the house while the others rush ahead.

There’s no time to think or ask questions. Everyone’s been prepared for this day for a while now. Dustin gets on his radio, putting a call out for a medical personnel in the area, on the off chance there is one. Joyce and Susan rush to prep the bathroom, knowing that getting you to the hospital is next to impossible given the state of things. The others stay out of your fucking way because they’re smart.

Eddie is holding your hand, trying to act like he’s not freaking out but he very much is. “Alright, it’s okay, it’s going to be fine. You’re okay. Do you need anything? I’ll get you something. Shit, what am I supposed to get you? WHAT DO I DO?!”

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING!” you scream through a contraction

Joyce swoops in as she takes over for Hopper, leading you into the bathroom. “Everyone out of the way!” she orders. “Only Eddie and the moms are allowed in the bathroom. Nancy, there’s a checklist on the fridge. Get it and follow it to the letter. You’re in charge.”

“Um, I’m an adult, I can help,” Hopper says.

“Oh, that’s sweet that you think that, honey, but please,” Joyce says. “We got this.”

Susan’s filling the bath with warm water and she and Eddie help you out of your clothes. Sinking into the water helps ease some of the pain, mostly in your bad leg which is nothing compared to the pain you’re feeling now.

“What do I do?” Eddie asks Susan.

She hands him a washcloth. “You take this, run it under the cold water in the sink, and keep her forehead cool,” she orders. “Got it?”

Eddie nods, relieved to have some direction. “Alright, okay,” he says. “I got this.” He does as she instructs, carefully dabbing at your sweating forehead.

“At least you made it back in time,” you say through a laugh, which quickly turns into a painfilled yell. There was barely any time between the other contraction and this one. “Are they supposed to be this fast?”

Susan looks at Joyce after staring at her watch. “They’re only about five minutes apart,” she says.

“What does that mean?” Eddie asks. “Is that bad? Good? What does it mean?!?!?!”

“It means this baby is impatient,” Joyce says. “Might be having a new family member here very soon.”

This is not how you ever pictured any of this going but it’s happening and you have no choice. As many times as you and Eddie talked about leaving Hawkins, he couldn’t. Not when his friends needed help. And you weren’t going anywhere without him. So you both stayed.

The pregnancy was a surprise. It came out of the blue and even though you both were ecstatic, you were also terrified. Everything was coming to a head and Vecna was getting strong again.

No. Don’t think about that. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. There’s something more important happening.

You lose track of time. While you have no idea what you’re doing, your body seems to. Joyce and Susan also know what birth entails and they are able to keep you calm. Well, as calm as a person can be giving birth in a bathtub in a cabin in the woods.

Eddie is right there by your side, wiping down your face and telling you how strong you are, how much he loves you, and how he can’t wait to meet his kid.

And five hours later, when your daughter is born and Joyce is putting her in your arms, you breathe the biggest sigh of relief. She’s perfect. With a mop of hair close to Eddie’s color, she cries until Susan lays a warm blanket over you both.

Eddie is crying. He reaches out, almost scared to touch her but Joyce guides him through it, helps him place his hand on his daughter’s back.

The three of you huddle together. Someone snaps a picture, you’re not sure who though.

“What’s her name?” Joyce asks with a wide smile and tears in her eyes. She’s sitting on the floor of the bathroom, while everyone else crowds outside the door.

“Jane,” you say. “Jane Maxine.”

“It should be the other way.” You look up and smile at Max, pushing through the others, knocking their shins with her cane. “Maxine Jane. Then you can call her MJ like in the Amazing Spider-Man.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god, that’s brilliant.”

You chuckle and shake your head. Of course, your kid has to have a nerdy name. It only seems right. “Fine, little MJ Munson,” you say.

“MJ Munson,” he says with a grin, kissing your forehead. “You did good, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t quite sink in until much later how important MJ is to the crew. You never realized how much of their fighting was for her. And for other kids like her, the kids of the future. It hits you the next day when you’re in your room, watching your family pass the new bundle of joy around.

And it’s also when you realize just how much your family has gone through. No one escaped unscathed. No one.

Dustin’s eye is bandaged, a horrible cut running down from his eyebrow to his cheek. He’s already calling MJ “little sis”, promising to teach her about dragons.

Lucas’s face is swollen, his lip split, but he’s still smiling at the baby as she wraps her hand around his finger. Max stands next to him and he describes how MJ looks in detail for her as she gently touches the baby’s face.

Nancy, who physically seems okay but no longer smiles, sits with her eyes haunted by all she’s seen. Her lips twitch when MJ is handed to her and she presses a kiss to the top of the baby’s head.

Robin’s head is bandaged, covering the place where her right ear once was, a fresh series of bite marks clear against her pale face. She leans against Nancy, the older girl slipping her arm around her shoulders after passing MJ on.

Steve automatically sways with the baby, determined to hold her even with his arm in a sling. Thankfully Jonathan and Will are there to spot him just in case. Jonathan is bruised with a swollen eye. Will, pale and still trembling, his left hand tightly wrapped with gauze.

Will brings the baby over to Mike and El. Eleven is weak, so weak but determined to be there. If anyone felt the stress of Vecna’s defeat it was her. She leans against Will and Mike, the three of them smiling and cooing at the baby. Mike is using your cane for support, his leg bandaged from the knee down.

Uncle Wayne and Susan, pass MJ between them, brought together by circumstance and taking it all in stride to protect their loved ones.

Joyce sits at the end of your bed, smiling at everyone. A mom to every teen and young adult in the room, she’s been everyone’s rock even when her own sadness and trauma take over.

Hopper brings MJ back to Eddie. He smiles when he does, patting the new dad on the back, his eyes unseeing, lost in a memory of another little girl from long ago. He and Joyce usher the others out to give you and Eddie space.

Your husband sways as Steve taught him to, beaming down at the small bundle in his arms. You love them both so much. Everything you’ve been through the last two years has been worth it because you made the world safer. Not just for her but for yourselves.

Eddie brings MJ back to the bed, gently placing her in between the both of you. He’s still wearing the demogorgon tooth you gave him before he left. It’s been your good luck charm over the years and once he decided to go back into the Upside Down, you gave it to him, hoping it would keep him safe.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, reaching over to take his hand.

He slots his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your scarred knuckles. “About how much I fucking love you,” he says. “And how I’m so grateful we found each other.”

“I’m just grateful you came back to us.”

“And I’m not going anywhere ever again,” Eddie says. “You’re stuck with me, remember?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Taglist

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[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Ok, if I was gonna write a Debbie ending here’s what I think might be interesting -

Franny gets a scholarship to a private school because Debbie notices her various talents…(I’m thinking maybe Art and English?) and goes to different schools to see what opportunities there are. She’s quickly offered a full scholarship.

Debbie turns down Heidi’s offer and is determined to focus on herself. She wants a fresh start but it’s not immediately obvious what this should be. (I’ve mentioned this before) she strikes a deal with Carl and Tipping to work at the Alibi with them. She takes day shifts so she can be there in the evenings for Franny. She finds she’s good at doing the books and ordering product, she gets some help with the math from Mickey. She has lots of ideas and I think it would have been cool if she had helped organise the anniversary party with Mickey. Her and Franny and Carl move in above the Alibi and make it a home.

Ultimately, she’s happy with her life and it’s all going well. One of the last scenes we see of her is when she gets a text from Sandy saying something like “missing you”. She takes a long look at it and it’s very ambiguous as to whether she’s going to reply or not. An open ending - life is good for Debbie.

calli!! i love this please forgive how late i am lol😭

i actually thought about that whole scholarship thing before, and i like what you said about it. i could see it being something art related, we learn that franny’s pretty artistic in s11 and also debbie was really artistic when she was younger (she sort of still is at the end, but i think she’s busy with her kid and work so she’s less artistic now). maybe she gets accepted into the school liam went to? i could kinda see something happening where franny struggles to make friends in her school because their parents won’t let them play with her (11x02) and they think she’s weird + amy and gemma are gone, so debbie tries to find a new, better school because again, franny’s talented, and also because she doesn’t want franny to be as lonely as she was growing up.

debbie 100% declines heidi’s offer. it pisses me off that people believe she wouldn’t because if you watch the scene and know her as a character you know that she isn’t going. i actually just started a fic about debbie in therapy, so i totally agree with her trying to focus on/better herself. because jesus christ, s11 fucks her up. i love the idea of debbie helping carl and officer tipping with the alibi, i could see it happening. i personally think she’d stick with her welding/her business, but bartending could definitely be a side gig for her. she’d enjoy it (plus she is infamously horrible at dealing with change, and since she grew up around the alibi, seeing it gone would fuck her up and she wouldn’t want to let it go). i think that they keep the house post-s11 for numerous reasons, but if they were to move out, the space above the alibi would be a cool place for them to live.

i wrote a fic about something like what you said with sandy and debbie, but it’s currently on hiatus, however i love the idea of some sort of ending with sandy and debbie. i would be satisfied if they weren’t back together, but at least them getting back together wasn’t off the table. honestly, if sandy showed up to the anniversary party (she should have- she literally walked mickey downn the isle!) and we got like one frame of debbie and sandy talking i’d be satisfied. that’s all i’d need and i’d be okay with how they ended her story. well, maybe not ok… but not as angry as i am. i really just wish debbie the best because john wells put my girl through constant hell in all 134 episodes and she deserves some happiness. i loved hearing your thoughts on this, calli! ❤️

[softpine]

holy shit that was incredible 🧎 as usual right after reading one of ur posts i'm craving a LOT of bts info. how did u decide who would be the closest to which until dawn character? were there any choices u went back and forth on? how are u so talented? are there any hidden easter eggs? how do u think their relationships would change in the following months?

the edits are beyond stunning, i've been staring at the portraits for so long and i'm gonna reread the whole thing tmrw in case i missed smtn <3

ahhh thank you!!! i'm so happy you liked it 🥺💖

so the thing is, i'm like. wildly hyperfixating on until dawn right now and i decided to platinum the game, which involves replaying it at least 3 times (in my case it took 6 because i'm bad at gaming lol) so i had a ton of time to think about this AU while i was watching the same unskippable cut-scenes over and over. the first thing i thought was "haha i also have a character named matt who's kind of a pushover" and the rest is history :')

characters

Josh = Finn: i knew i couldn't have an actual josh in this case because none of my characters would do exactly what he did, but the core elements of josh are already in finn: he was wronged by the people in his life he trusted the most, he lashes out when he feels strong emotions, and he's really just scared and lonely underneath it all. so then i thought, what if josh's fake ghost antics were an actual ghost? and who's better for that role than finn? however, his parents are definitely not rich, so the lodge couldn't belong to his family. that's why i decided to make it a larger hunting lodge where all kinds of hunters would come together. also did you notice how i didn't even tell you who killed finn in the AU because no spoilers :P

Sam = Asa: i actually don't care for sam tbh but she's the obvious leader of the group, the level-headed one, the angel on your shoulder. asa can be impulsive at times (especially in regards to finn) but he's still the person i would choose to be at my my side during a crisis. his parents are the only ones with money, so it makes sense for danny to purchase the lodge without visiting it himself. sam is also compassionate to josh and has somewhat of a romantic thing going on with him if you read it that way, so that fits for asa and finn.

Jessica = Elaine: jess (best girl!!!!!) is the first person with the possibility of dying, and her death/injury is the catalyst for multiple characters future decisions, so her equivalent had to be someone who's also strongly connected to numerous others. so elaine is perfect! she's also the only person of my group who i can imagine storming outside in the snow in her underwear to give her friends a piece of her mind fjskjds but she also has enough strength of character & resilience to make it realistic that she might survive so many injuries.

Mike = Austin: this felt like a no-brainer because austin already has knowledge about guns, he's fearless, and if elaine got hurt, austin would go fucking ballistic. he stops caring about his own survival and starts making brash, unwise choices. but that's where the similarities end, because i actually really hate mike and i feel bad comparing austin to him lmao. say what you will about austin, but he would never try to talk his way into having sex with a girl who literally says "i'm just not feeling it". i hate mike 😒

Chris = Stevie: now hear me out!! at first glance you might think stevie would be ashley. they cry a lot, they look to others for guidance, and they even look alike. but stevie strikes me as much more of a chris type, being that chris was never meant to be the hero. he's a goofy nerd who tells jokes when he's nervous and screams his head off any time he has to do something brave. and that's exactly what stevie's role in this AU is. despite her nature, she's making brave decisions for the benefit of her friends. (but this pic did remind me of ashley)

Matt = Matt: he's kinda just..... here. he cracks some jokes, he can either diffuse or encourage arguments, he plays second fiddle to his girlfriend most of the time. he tries to be the hero but fails miserably. but he has a good heart and he almost never does anything controversial.

Alisa = Ashley: alisa is WAY less outwardly emotional than ashley, but she has the same chaotic, contradictory nature. she cares about people, but she's also capable of coldly letting others die to save herself. she's good at making others feel protective of her even if she doesn't need protecting. she's VERY curious.

Jada = Emily: listen emily just doesn't fit with any of my characters even though i love her so much. but jada does share her determination in the face of fear, her will to survive at any cost, and the way she has the capability to soften up and be really sweet under the right circumstances. they're both much more resourceful and capable than you would initially think. but jada is more likely to follow others' guidance than make plans herself.

other stuff!

for the safe room scene, i thought it would be more interesting if it was the archetypal heroic boyfriend who was bitten and the archetypal damsel in distress who holds his fate in her hands. but there is no way in hell that austin would just sit there and let someone shoot him. when he takes alisa hostage, it almost makes it easier to shoot him; if he were pleading for his life, jada would never pull the trigger, no matter how much alisa told her to. but since he puts himself in the position of the aggressor (the exact thing they feared he would do) it becomes a more believable dilemma. of course, we learn later that the bite is not infectious and austin never would've turned, but none of them know that yet. even austin doesn't know. this scene in the game is extremely horrifying to me so i hope i did it justice in my AU too!

i said this in the replies too, but: the playthrough i envisioned with the stats and pictures makes these major choices: elaine initially survives the mine, matt dies by the rope, stevie's leg is fine, jada shoots austin (why she's covered in blood in her portrait), jada & alisa die in the explosion, stevie rescues elaine, and finn saves asa!

imagine the lantern is doing this shit the whole time LMAOO

the swiss army knife in my AU basically has the same function as the flare gun in until dawn. if matt doesn't have it, he'll die. but if emily doesn't have it, she'll only be bitten. but getting the flare gun into the right hands is sooo convoluted so i had to simplify it for our purposes.

butterfly effects

i didn't include these because i was trying to keep things brief, but here's some of the other ideas i had:

if elaine & austin's relationship drops too low before they arrive at the guest cabin, then elaine won't kiss him and will go outside to look for her phone against his wishes. that's where she would be taken by the creature instead.

if jada and alisa don't find enough clues about finn's disappearance, then they will not recognize finn when they find his remains. this makes finn less likely to protect them later in the night.

if jada shot austin and her relationship with alisa is HIGH, then alisa will give herself injuries on her face to help corroborate their self defense story. if jada shot austin and her relationship with alisa is LOW, then alisa will be fascinated and say "i didn't know you had it in you..." but will not offer to corroborate the story. in both scenarios, alisa will then say she doesn't want to sit around with austin's body. jada will have the option of leaving with alisa or staying inside the safe room. jada can say no (alisa might survive, jada dies), or yes (they both might survive). or if they have a high relationship, she can convince alisa to stay too (they both die).

if matt survives the attack in the mines, then stevie's leg will be injured because she didn't have the knife, meaning she arrives much later to rescue elaine/matt. so if elaine is still alive, matt can find her in the mines and they have a conversation. they will both be impressed by each other's survival, and elaine will feel bad that matt is only in the mines because of her. she asks where austin is, but matt has no idea. then stevie shows up and the rest plays out as described!

after dawn

so obviously their relationships would vary wildly depending on who survives and what choices they made to get there.

in an everyone survives playthrough, austin and elaine would break up soon after the events of the game. if you notice, elaine's perception of austin went down a lot because austin didn't try to save her after she fell down the elevator. she felt abandoned by him when he was the most physically capable & experienced person who could have saved her, but instead it was her injured best friend who never gave up on her. so they're done lol. stevie and matt would break up amicably (for reasons unrelated to the night in question) and remain friends, because how could they not? as for alisa, she doesn't talk to any of them anymore. she was only ever close with jada in the first place, but after jada refused to shoot austin, she lost all trust in her. after finn's remains are found, his spirit is no longer chained to the lodge and he's able to join asa at home. this version of finn is like a normal ghost in that he can appear to anyone he wants. he becomes close friends with all of asa's friends, especially stevie. and then... a few years later... a family called the washingtons purchases the property for their kids (josh, beth, and hannah) to throw parties in. just kidding sjfkjsd sole survivor playthrough: with the outline i laid out, there's actually no way for each of them to be the sole survivor because i had to cut so much out for brevity (i know it doesn't seem like it lol). but it's possible for asa, stevie, elaine, or matt to be sole survivors. the most heartbreaking is probably stevie, who would've had to see matt's decapitated head, heard the lodge blow up with asa, jada, alisa, and austin inside, then watch elaine die right in front of her. so that's super fucked and i don't want to think about that anymore!! asa being the sole survivor makes the most sense logically, because he has finn to protect him for most of it. elaine or matt being the sole survivor would be if one of them dies early in the game and then stevie dies trying to help elaine/matt escape. in any case, i don't think all the therapy in the world could cure that amount of survivor's guilt... everyone dies playthrough: the group become ghosts who haunt the mountain. finn's body is never recovered because no one is alive to report it to the police, so he is never at peace either. danny still owns the property, so he destroys the cable car and builds a giant electrified fence so that, hopefully, no human will ever return to the cursed mountain. i can't even / don't want to imagine how any of their parents would be able to move on after such a tragedy, it makes me genuinely sad to think about :( everybody dies playthroughs are all fun and games until you think about what comes after 😭

ANYWAY THAT'S ALL!! thank you so much for indulging my frankly rabid brain fjskdjs i know i keep saying it, but until dawn is my most confusing obsession because i first played the game in 2015 and i wasn't a fan; i thought the characters were annoying and the gameplay was lacking. but a few months ago i randomly decided to watch a playthrough of the quarry and that made me want to give until dawn another chance, and now...... yeah. idk what happened here but now it's all i can think about lmao. but being able to talk about the game with other people is sooo fun and i'm really happy i did this!! 💖

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part two) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), vague mention of one night stands, low self-worth, a little angst, loneliness, imposter syndrome, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: This one is kinda more angsty than I expected so like. Beware. It's mostly loneliness and low self-esteem. Something cute does happen though. Enjoy :))]]

"Stan," Richie stressed, "-Hear me out."

"It is 2 in the fucking morning where you are, Rich," Stanley replied, kind of flatly (as it always was), "-what are you doing?"

Right, Stan was in Atlanta and he was in San Francisco. The Losers were kind of scattered across America, although, Bev was the closest to him (also in San Francisco). They met up a lot and streamed at Richie's sometimes. (Richie had the better apartment, mostly because of his parents. Gotta use them for something-)

This had nothing to do with that though.

"Debating streaming, obviously," Richie answered -unflinchingly.

"Do you ever get any sleep?" Stan commented, but Richie could tell easily that he was worried. Sometimes, Richie felt a little like he knew him his whole life even though it was only a few years.

"Oh, Staniel," he hummed, deflecting, "-don't stress your dick off, I am fine."

It should go unsaid that he wasn't.

Richie Tozier, in his empty apartment (at least in terms of people), felt lonely. He kind of always felt a little lonely, even on streams or with friends. He would still, at the end of the day, say goodbye and eat his shitty food and watch shitty shows in his dimly lit living room (with a too-big TV that he definitely shouldn't have purchased). So, maybe sometimes he streamed at night because the feeling of just being alone swallowed him whole when he tried to sleep-

"Right," Stanley spoke in a way that Richie knew he didn't believe him (he was right to be fair), "-Richie, why are you calling me?"

Because I felt like I might not be missed. Would you miss me? Stanley, would you miss me?

"To bother you, fucking obviously," Richie said instead.

"Cut the shit," Stanley replied -flatly again.

Richie pressed his lips together for a second, debating just what he wanted to say. If he ever wanted to be truly honest. He debated that every day, he remembers debating that before coming out. If he ever could be truly honest to anybody.

But now, here he was. An openly gay streamer.

He'd had a few public boyfriends too (parents met them, not they cared-), before his Twitch career, yeah, but still.

He hadn't needed to worry about being with someone online though, that was a plus. If he was totally honest, he wasn't sure how he'd handle a public relationship online. He didn't want to fuck it up, or have someone love the fame more than him. He'd seen it before and with everything in him didn't want that.

But Richie... God, he fucking yearned.

Like it was the 1800s and he was forbidden to love who he wanted to. Or maybe like he wanted someone to curl up against on the couch, make his brain shut up. Because it was so loud sometimes, and not in the fucking fun way.

Richie was a balance of self-hatred, emotional repression, and attention starvation. Sometimes he thought that was all he was, that he was annoying. Better in small doses, if you will-

"I don't think anyone is gonna stick around."

He spoke before he could stop it, Richie was never good at shutting up, or controlling himself for that matter-

"Not for-" he echoed out, into his empty apartment, on his bed -staring up at the ceiling, "-Not for me."

Stanley seemed to process it for a second. Like maybe he was running over the words in his mind, getting ready to say some shit laced with wisdom. Like he always did.

"I'm gonna stick around," he decided to say, carefully, "-I'm always gonna be here, Richie."

"I know," he didn't really, but he tried to believe it, "-I know that. I just mean... I mean like you and Pats."

Stanley was married, which initially was a red flag. Marrying your high-school sweetheart was testy, and often ended up in a shitshow. (Richie would've married a closeted guy, so maybe he has no space to judge but-) But Stan and Patty? He's pretty sure they ended up together in every universe, like the kind of love that was inevitable. They could be two fucking birds in a universe and they'd still stick to each other, or at least Richie thought so.

"You mean love?" Stanley questioned, somewhat for clarification.

"Yeah, I don't think-" Richie felt something twist in his stomach, "-I don't think anyone will want to stay with me. I'm..."

"There might be someone as crazy as you out there, Rich."

He laughed a little then, but it still felt so heavy.

"But seriously, you're annoying, yeah-" Stanley continued, voice still scratchy with sleep, "-but you're a good guy, Rich. Don't let this get to your fucking head, but you're funny, and caring, and loyal. Just because you've only dating shitty guys before who didn't see what they had, doesn't mean you aren't good."

Richie stayed silent a moment. He really hadn't had the best relationship with anyone. At all.

"And Patty wants me to say you're handsome too," Stanley added, flatly.

He could hear her voice distantly, "I would snatch you up if you weren't batting for the other team, honey."

"Wow," Stanley responded, offended (but not really), "-you know that we're married, right?"

"We'd obviously be a throuple," Richie commented -casually, before calling out to her, "-and love ya, Pats~"

"Love you too, Richie," she chimed back, and something in him felt a little lighter.

There was a pause there, laughter and smiles hanging in the air. It felt like he was there with them for a second, that he wasn't alone in his apartment... like he always was.

"Richie," Stanley interrupted the warm buzz, "-I know you'll find someone. And I'm never fucking wrong."

He really never was.

He's not sure why he didn't expect it, but when he woke up that morning, Bev was at his door. Stanley probably set her on him, which was something he didn't particularly like... but otherwise, it would be Stanley flying to California to beat his ass. Verbally. Sorta. Stan was complicated-

"Heya, Trashmouth," she grinned, as he opened the door (it was almost too bright for his barely awake eyes), "-I got you some breakfast."

Richie watched as she extended the bag forward and let herself in. It was a little her place at this point because she was here so often. Although, it should be said the whole place screamed Richie Tozier.

Bookshelves full of comics, limited edition signed movie posters littering the walls, an entirely separate display full of trinkets (he had one of Garfield in a bird feeder), and action figures (all posed in... interesting ways, of course). But every core piece of furniture was sort of neutral, Bev's doing. She said, it "balances out the space more", and he frankly trusted her.

"This a fucking welfare visit?" Richie remarked, aimlessly, closing and locking his door, "-You gonna send me to the loony bin if I say stupid shit?"

Beverly responded with ease, turning to patronizingly pat his cheek, "If I was going to do that, I would've done it a long time ago, sweetie."

Richie laughed out loud at that one.

She quietly led him to the living room, and the two of them sat on the floor with the food on the coffee table. He remembers when he didn't even have a coffee table, when all he had were some cardboard boxes-

"Stan told me you called him last night," Bev spoke, cautiously, still eating and not quite looking at him. Like he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to.

Well, at least Richie was right about why she was here.

"Yeah," he decided on, softly, "-I did."

She looked at him then, blue eyes posing a question. Do you wanna talk about it? They screamed, right in Richie's face, all caring and fond and shit he couldn't handle. It made something in his stomach strung tight, and his eyes burned like he was going to cry. He wondered for a second if she could see that.

"You wanna stream?" Richie said, instead.

Beverly didn't flinch, understanding that it wasn't the time, and promptly agreed.

They were setting up a tier list, one of those sites -Richie was trying to make sure his adblock was working currently. He really didn't want to be suspended at this point, especially because of a sketchy ad, streaming meant a lot to him. If he lost it, he didn't know what he'd do, honestly.

Bev sat closely beside him (in an older gaming chair he didn't use anymore), blue eyes peering over the monitor as she carefully ate some chips. Plain lays, if he remembered correctly. Or maybe sour cream and onion, it did smell like that.

"We're doing the Disney princes, right?"

"Yeah," Richie answered fluidly, gently running over audio and video input (just like routine), "-just not sure what we're ranking them on."

"Right," she hummed, eating another chip, "-What about how toxic they'd be as a boyfriend?"

He turned to her then, brainstorming, "How good they fuck?"

Beverly tipped a chip at him, before proposing, "If they can talk dirty?"

"Ooh," Richie grabbed a chip out of the bag, leaning backward in his chair slightly, "-Those kinda go hand-in-hand though, don't they, Red?"

"Let's do it."

She grinned, and Richie felt a little less alone. Even just for a second.

It was the moment in the stream where they were waiting for viewers, Richie tapping along the desk as Beverly sang some lyrics gently.

"Sweet Caroline," she sang lightly, moving her head a little to the beat.

Richie responded on instinct, low and under his breath as he tinkered with the settings, "Bum, bum, bum-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $5: pay attention to chat dipshit

"Eddie, baby!" Richie called out extending his hands out like he could somehow hug him, "-And you are freakishly early, there's only like 30 people here, chat is dead as fuck."

eddie.kaspbrak: well fuck me then for clicking on this notification

"Awe, Bevvy, did you hear that?" He held his hands on his heart for a second, pretending to fawn, "-Spaghetti has his notifs on for me."

Beverly laughed, before turning to chat -responsibly, "What he means is thank you, Eddie, for the support."

Richie didn't get to see a response because everyone kind of flooded in after that, chat filled beyond belief in mere seconds. Most of them were Bev-related, but Richie understood, he loved her too.

Finally, they got to the tier list.

"What should we rename the tiers?" Richie asked Beverly directly, fingers tapping along the keyboard (light enough to not press).

She hummed, fingers dancing along her chin.

"Hear me out," he suddenly had a thought, typing it as he said it, "-bottom tier, disgusting (bad). Second highest tier, nasty (good)."

Bev paused, digesting his words for a moment, before nodding her head, "No, that's good I like that."

"B-tier is obviously just mid," Richie continued, mindlessly, typing it in, "-nothing special."

Bev hummed, questioning, "What about S-tier?"

"Hmm," he tapped his chin dramatically, before turning to his monitor, "-chat? We got some opinions?"

"Toe curling," he read out, "-Okay, I like that one, but is it better than good nasty?"

unicorny-boingy: sheet-gripping

slay.to.the.death: spicy novel

girlie-pops: what about a cardinal sin

younganddumb: we are all going to hell

the_turtlegod: are we really talking about this right now

mommy-boys: the perfect fuck (trademark)

jessies_girl: euphoria

Richie pursed his lips, Bev over his shoulder -skimming the very same chat.

stan.the.man: I leave you alone for a few hours and you're already doing this shit

They both laughed for a moment, before Richie decided to comment.

"I don't know what you expect from me, Staniel," he retorted, "-If you expected anything else, you simply do not know me."

stan.the.man: it is 11 AM !!!

"Yeah, okay, well," Richie replied, teasing mostly, "-some people want to know what Disney princes would give 'em a good time, and you know what? I don't blame them."

eddie.kaspbrak: you act like this was requested which it decidedly was fucking not

stan.the.man: @/eddie.kaspbrak I like you

He frowned, adjusting his glasses on his face, "Chat, are you not interested to know my rankings? How good me, and Bevvy, think Disney princes would fuck?"

betty.bugs: of course

tozier-trashy: this is exactly the content I expect of you so yes

gen_gennie: absolutely

hog-inthebog: I'm just here to say you're wrong

minecrafter.on.main: yes

cartoon-cursed: obviously

bevs-boa: 🚨🚨 REDDY.BEVVY MENTIONED 🚨🚨

capngown: obvi

genuine._.disappointment: your name is trashmouth this is so on brand

dizknees: if flynn isn't in S you've lost a sub

catastrophically_me: @/disknees its eugene

tag.ur.self: why would I be watching the stream if I didn't

lightnin-queenie: will you rank the cars characters or no

babey-baby-oh: is this including pixar

"The chat has spoken," Richie echoed out with a melodic sort of deep tone, before switching fluently, "-and they want to know so fuck you two."

They ended up deciding on: god-level, nasty (good), mid, better be hot, disgusting (bad). He thinks it works pretty well for their purposes, at least.

And, so, they started.

"Aren't the first few of these shitty?" Richie commented, "-Like with no personality?"

"Except for saving the princess," Bev agreed, tapping along the desk, "-Prince Florian? Who's that?"

Richie's eyes darted to chat.

dizknees: snow white I'm pretty sure

"Oh," he chimed, frowning, "-boring. Is he hot?"

A quick Google search provided him with the prince. Beverly and Richie peered over him, critically; eyes set in total seriousness.

They both looked at each other.

He wordlessly added him to 'better be hot', and Beverly succinctly nodded.

"Tiny waist," he spoke, "-I don't think he has anything else otherwise."

"Yeah," she agreed, "-I doubt he'd even care about you. Just himself."

"Some people like that shit, though," Richie commented.

Beverly paused, turning to him, "Do you?"

He thought about the fact that it was all he kinda knew, that he's not sure anyone actually loved him. And then, he said-

"No."

They moved on pretty quickly after that, but not without Bev looking over him -cautiously. Richie ignored it.

"Prince Charming," he read out, before clarifying, "-Cinderella's prince. I remember this fucker."

"Face blind," Beverly mindlessly added, "-but he's pretty cute. Super committing, on that note, wanted to marry the girl he danced with once."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Uh," she hummed, tossing a pretzel in her mouth, "-maybe both."

tozier.trashy: rate him higher he has personality

tag.ur.self: you should see him in the sequels

bevs.boa: he's a himbo

girlie-pops: can confirm himbo in the sequels

"He's a himbo?" Richie questioned, before stressing further, "-There's fucking sequels to Cinderella?"

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: it's disney fuckwad they're bloodthirsty

"Fair point," he relented, dismissively, "-capitalist pigs, yada, yada, so on and so forth-"

Beverly suddenly spoke up, in recognition, "Oh, yeah! I remember one of them was good. Something about like a different timeline? And he was definitely a himbo in that one. Jumped out a window I think."

"Is that himbo or dumbass behavior?" He asked.

catastrophically.me: you don't understand

dizknees: no it's himbo

eddie.kaspbrak: the whole thing of being a himbo is being dumb stupid fuck

"Stupid fuck, wow," Richie laughed, "-You running out of words, Eds?"

eddie.kaspbrak: fuck you

"Maybe later," he winked dramatically into the camera, before hovering over the list, "-Anyway, Bevvy, how are we feeling?"

She pursed her lips, "I'm not sure, he'd probably be loving. Soft and shit."

"I don't know if I'd want him to be soft-"

Beep, beep!

stan.the.man donated $1: don't even

"Like his dick," Richie continued, ignoring the donation and talking to chat, "-do you get it guys? Guys, like his dick-"

tozier.trashy: richie we love you but that one just no

trashmouth-for-me: yeah that was terrible

only-here-for-trashmouth: almost unsubbed

dizknees: 😂🤣😂😂🤣🤣🤣😆😆🤣😂😆

stan.the.man: wow he's a comedian

plz_stop: you should do a villain run on stardew

benny.boy: I'm so sorry but that was bad

eddie.kaspbrak: you're not supposed to explain jokes trashmouth

Richie smiled, holding up his hands like he was being humble after finishing a set, "Please, please, hold the applause-"

Beverly laughed a little, motioning to herself, "Richie, Richie, come back to me."

"Oh, yeah, we're doing shit, right."

Taking a breath, Richie put him on mid and then looked at Bev. She squinted for a moment.

"No, I agree," she pulled her drink to her lips (water, he thinks), "-he probably doesn't know where the clitoris is."

"Hot take," Richie mindlessly commented, before moving to the next one, "-but I agree 100%. I'm gay, and I could find the clitoris. I did find the clitoris-"

"Too much information, honey," Bev chimed, moving a hand to cover his mouth, "-let's move on."

Prince Phillip was hot, and they ultimately labeled him good nasty. Which was controversial in chat, but it was not Richie's first rodeo.

"Oh shit, we're getting real," his eyes skimmed over the next on the list, Eric, "-Bevvy, S just might see the fucking light of day."

Both of them looking at the picture they pulled up, they carefully eyed him. Beverly's eyes flicked to Richie's and back to Prince Eric.

"You could do a good cosplay of him."

He posed like him in the photo, carefully, and Beverly laughed a little, kissing her fingers like she was eating some really good food, "Perfect."

It came out before he could stop it, "Am I handsome enough for it, though?"

Bev immediately frowned before opening her mouth, most certainly ready to say something-

Beep, beep!

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: of course you are fuckface

Richie's lips fell into a straight line, and he felt something flutter a little in his chest. Shit, when did that happen?

He was mean to me, it was only a matter of time really-

Beverly grinned a little, eyes scampering along his face -somewhat knowingly, "What he said."

On instinct, he deflected -ignoring the way his heart beat in his chest, "You could do Ariel, Red."

tell.me.why: WAIT

bevs.boa: reddy.bevvy and trashmouth.tozier cosplay collab when

trashy.tozier: anyone else see him blush

plz_stop: that reaction was so gay

dizknees: YOU GUYS COULD GO TO A CONVENTION

minecrafter.on.main: BEV PLEASE

gay.shit.guy: 🏳️‍🌈 GAY SHIT MENTIONED 🏳️‍🌈

cartoon-cursed: bev would slay as ariel wait

dizknees: do it do it do it

trashmouth-for-me: can't believe I just watched trashmouth go speechless

catastrophically.me: please guys 🙏

betty.bugs: you could stream from the convention

genuine._.disappointment: if you don't do it, I'm unsubbing

Beverly laughed, which made Richie laugh too. The embarrassment sliding off his skin, he felt more in himself. He could always think about that later. Way later. Maybe tonight, when he couldn't sleep.

Not that it needed to be said, but Eric was put on S-tier.

Carrying on in the stream, he relaxed. It would probably be easy from here on out anyway.

"The Beast?"

He stands corrected.

"Bev, Bevvy, I'm not a furry," he turned to his monitor, "-Chat, I am not a furry, but-"

"You know he has a human form," she laughed, "-right?"

"A shitty one," he retorted -completely serious, "-he doesn't even have a beard and he's not... big like he fucking should be."

"Okay, okay," she raised her hands in surrender, "-I can see this is something you're very passionate about. You can run this one."

"Hear me out," he repeated, defensively, before hovering over god-level. Bev raised her eyebrows in response, stopping the chip on the way to her mouth.

"Wait, wait, wait, listen-" she hummed in acknowledgement, "-he's very caring, and has a little bit of an angry side. Which, in the right circumstances, is very fun-"

"Richie," she chastised with a laugh.

"What, it's fucking true," he offered, "-We're adults here, we can acknowledge the kink community."

"Is that a kink?"

"Technically," Richie leveled, a little uncertainly, "-anything you like sensually is a kink, I think."

Bev shrugged, putting the Beast in god-level and popping a chip into her mouth, "You've convinced me."

They moved on.

"Aladdin," Richie through his head back, "-Oh my god. Bev, do we even need to question this?"

She shook her head, sipping her drink before responding, "You could do a good cosplay of him too. Personality-wise."

He placed a hand on his heart, "Aw, Bevvy. That's the nicest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I just called you handsome."

"Personality over physical looks every day, baby," he chimed back with a shit-eating grin. She promptly shoved him.

"Alright, next up," Richie recovered from the shove, skimming over the next square, "-John Smith? Who the fuck is that?"

dizknees: pocahontas

"The colonizer?" He retorted with a laugh of disbelief.

Bev frowned beside him, shriveling up her nose, "Ew."

With the flick of his wrist, he put him in the disgusting (bad) tier. Unhesitatingly.

Beverly spoke this time, reading, "Captain Li Shang."

"Ooh," Richie spoke, "-Mulan, yeah? He's definitely hot."

"Oh, definitely," she reiterated -agreeing.

"Captain too?" He raised his eyebrows, eyes shooting to Bev's, "-A man of power, Bevvy."

"Who says I don't wanna be the power?"

"Oh my," Richie fluttered his eyelashes for a second, "-Bevvy, Bevvy. Chat, let's clip that."

"You fucker," she hissed, and promptly pushed him out of his chair.

Richie fell into a laughing fit, loud and brash against the floor. He even thinks he snorted out loud, big breaths forcing out of his lungs. Bev looked down at him, blue eyes sparkling.

"You alright down there, Trashmouth?"

"Bev gets off on a good one," he chimed back through laugh, "-Chat, let's applaud."

He pulled himself back up into his chair, wiping at his eyes -still laughing a little. Moreso, embarrassingly, giggling.

trashy.tozier: he's ALIVE

girlie-pops: 👏👏👏

babey_boy: our prayers were answered

hello-everybody: 👏👏👏

tell.me.why: 👏👏👏

bevs.boa: still reeling over bev being a top

trashmouth.for.me: RICHIE THANK GOD

big.bill: what did I miss

tell.me.why: 👏👏👏

dizknees: trashmouth.tozier dead, more at 3

burly-bear: just joined why did we think he was dead

elliot-turbine: 👏👏👏

trashy.tozier: @/burly-bear bev pushed him off the chair

minecrafter.on.main: 👏👏👏

Richie kept giggling.

"Alright, woo," he took a deep breath in, shaking his head and blinking, "-Bev, Li Shang, what's our ruling?"

"I think good nasty," she said, casually -choking back her own laughter.

He laughed a little at her laughter, with ease putting him in the tier, "Good nasty it is!"

And then, his eyes went to the next on the list.

"Oh, fucking easy," Richie tsked, placing both Naveen and Flynn (Eugene, really) in god-like.

Bev nodded dramatically, mouth full of snacks, and clapped her hands in achievement.

"Flynn Rider, he could r-"

stan.the.man donated $1: just stop there for the love of god

Richie saluted, speaking in a deep voice -mimicking a soldier, "Sir, yes, sir."

"There's one more," Bev pointed out, hand over her mouth, "-um, Kristoff."

"Oh," he squinted, "-that's the one from Frozen, right?"

dizknees: yeah he's a consent king

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Consent king?"

dizknees: he asked anna before kissing her

tag.ur.self: asked before he kissed

babey_boy: him and anna are so special to me

tell.me.why: flynn supremacy

trashy.tozier: it was a cute lil moment at the end of frozen

betty.bugs: "i like you better in leather anyway"

dizknees: @/betty.bugs SJSJZHSJJANAHG

plz_stop: he did have the weird thing with Sven tho

babey_boy: @/plz_stop Sven was like a dog to him that's not weird

girlie-pops: where are my jack frost/elsa girlies at

dizknees: @/girlie-pops NOOOOOO

"Shouldn't they all ask for consent?" Richie questioned, "-Why does Kristy get fucking... brownie points?"

"Disney hasn't done it before," Beverly clarified, "-It's like a big deal."

"What the fuck?"

"Yeah," Bev popped another chip in her mouth, "-world's fucked."

"Well, shit," he huffed out, dragging Kristoff around the chart, "-I dunno, I don't think he'd be good in the sack. Wasn't he like raised by wolves or something?"

"Rocks," she clarified, completely serious, "-magical rock people."

Richie took a breath, digesting that information, "Oh-kay. Well, all that being said, I think he's mid."

"Yeah," she agreed, "-He's like very loving but that doesn't necessarily mean that he fucks good."

"Exactly," he cemented, before clapping his hands, "-Well, Chat, we have our final rankings of the Disney princes and how good they'd fuck."

"How good we think they'd fuck," Bev clarified.

"Well, obviously," Richie laughed, "-You want me to teleport into Disney worlds and fuck these men?"

"You would," she teased.

And he very wholeheartedly agreed, "I would."

[the-broken-truth]

Heya! I just got an idea after I remember some of our chat. How do you imagine Kratos’s reaction being called ‘ashy asshole’ by Björn and Revna? And how do you imagine Atreus and Freya reacting to Björn and Revna calling them ‘delusional dipshit’ and ‘Bird bitch’? Man, that will be funny to see their offended reactions xD

And of course Mama Sif wouldn’t approve her Bear Cub and her Baby Raven saying bad words while Thor and Thrúd would be laughing their asses off by their creativity.

Broken Truth (Reads the ask and smirks): Oh, I remember that conversation and it had me laughing. Let's see how the others react to it by letting the words weave together!

[It was supposed to be a family outing in Midgard - just getting out of Asgard and from under the All-Father's Thumb & away from Heimdall's Mouth for a few hours but of course, the Norns have to be a pain in the sides of the Great Bear and the Wise Raven as the 3 people they didn't want to see appeared before them just before they entered the Village of the Great Bear so Björn could see his champion and lover - Astrid. Just before they could join the village, an arrow flew past their heads and got stuck in the village wall, causing them all to look in that direction and groan collectively as their eyes rested upon sets of blue, gold, and brown eyes.]

Björn (Groans): Is there a single place these assholes won't find out about us? Are we tagged with a location spell or something? (Looking in the direction of Kratos, Atreus, and Freya) We are not in the mood for this today, we are having a family outing and want nothing to do with you right now, so leave and don't return to this village.

Atreus (Lowers his bow as he looks into Björn's eyes): If you are having a family outing, it should be with us because we are your family - not them. And your place is not in this village but with Father and I back at the cabin so just come home and leave the Aesir.

Thrud: You really don't get it, do you, Loki? My Brother and Sister want nothing to do with your family, so just leave them alone and return to whatever lonely little cabin you come from and leave us the hell alone.

Kratos: My Children are no siblings of yours, Daughter of Thor, and I would request that you stop calling them as such.

Revna: Don't talk to my sister like that you, Ashy Asshole!

[The silence was so deafening, you could hear a leaf fall to the ground, everyone looked at Revna, who looked at her parents with confusion in her eyes.]

Revna: What? Did I say something wrong?

Thor: No. That's (Snickers) That's not it, daughter.

Freya: Don't call her your daughter! She is mine!

Björn: Fuck you, Bird Bitch! You aren't the mother of me or my sister! She's standing right here! (Gesturing at Sif - who looks rather shocked at her children's language)

Freya (Eyes Wide): 'Bird Bit-'... Björn, that's no way to talk to your mother.

Atreus/Björn/Revna: YOU'RE NOT OUR MOTHER!

[The sudden sync in speech causes Atreus to smile proudly at the twins.]

Atreus: See? My siblings and I are in sync.

Björn: Listen here, you delusional dipshit, we are not your siblings anymore. We are Björn & Revna Thorsdóttir & we want nothing to do with you. Get that through your head and leave us the hell alone.

[The 3 Unwelcomed Guests looked at Björn with shock in their eyes while Thor and Thrud were holding in their laughter and Sif looked like she was going to explode with anger - who the hell thought her children these words?!]

Sif: Who... In The Name of the All-Father... TAUGHT YOU THOSE WORDS?! (Reaches out and grabs Revna and Björn by their closest ear and pulled them upward) I do not condone such language from my own children! We are going inside and having a talk about this! (Pulls the twins into the village by their ears)

Björn: OW! MOTHER! PLEASE, STOP! THAT HURTS VERY BADLY!

Revna: MOM! STOP, MY EARS ARE DELICATE!

[Thor and Thrud followed behind Sif, Björn, and Revna chuckling to themselves while leaving Kratos, Atreus, and Freya alone to contemplate the new names that the Former Sparta Kids have given them before they turned on their heels and walked away from the Village of the Great bear.]

[mataglap]

Hello, I would very much like to hear your Hank/Connor thoughts. Please do elaborate if you feel so inclined <3

ha. it's nothing particularly deep, but sure! in this essay I will

first of all, they have chemistry in spades, more than enough for a ship to be born. now, I'm absolutely not going to begrudge anyone the father/son relationship if they like it, they are valid, more power to them, but I've also seen some of those people act like Hank/Connor shipping is somehow morally wrong, and that's shitty on so many levels, starting with the obvious ageism.

and since we're talking about ageism... Hank is 53, for fuck's sake. he's been made to look about 10-15 years older than he is, which can be blamed on depression and alcoholism, but he's still only 53. he's a middle-aged, attractive (self-neglect notwithstanding) man, perfectly capable of forming a romantic relationship. defaulting him to a fatherly role, ESPECIALLY while he's grieving his actual child, simply feels wrong.

and Connor is not a child in need of a parent either; he's an artificial intelligence in a pseudo-human body, capable of both empathy and remorseless actions up to and including murder. (I enjoy the fandom concept of RK900, but I find it highly amusing that he's widely regarded as the 'asshole' version of Connor, as if Connor isn't quite a cold asshole himself.)

so, we have two lonely social misfits with a lot of chemistry between them, working together and bonding during a time of serious societal upheaval, both of them ready to take a bullet for the other in the end. what's not to ship here?

[greg-montgomery]

a rant about being lonely lol

loneliness is a huge part of my life and i cry bc i feel lonely all the time. i've cried myself to sleep about it but i've also almost sobbed on my way to work bc of it on like a random monday. i just feel lonely almost all the time. and i always wonder why i feel like that when i know i am not alone. i have my parents (no matter what our relationship looks like i know they love me), i have my brother, i have my friends, i have my coworkers, i have my online friends. like...i know i'm not alone.

but it still feels lonely and i think i'm starting to understand why. cause maybe that's just how it is??

bc when i go to work and i'm with my coworkers, we laugh and we talk and i don't feel alone. but on my way to work when i sit alone in the train i do feel alone. when i arrive back home and i have to make myself something to eat, i feel alone.

or when i'm out with my friends i laugh with them and i have fun and we talk and i feel loved and i feel happy. but then when i'm back home and i have to take my makeup off and i get into bed i'm alone.

and sometimes i crave that - like i want to have a night in just by myself with just a book or a nice bath. but at the same time the loneliness just hits?

like sometimes i am laying in bed and i'm like "ahh i did my skincare and now i get to read fanfiction or write or read a book and my sheets are fresh and life can't get better than this" and some other times i cry myself to sleep cause i don't have someone to hold me.

it's like no one is close enough. they're all here but when they're not here..they're not here. that makes no sense i know lmfao but it does in my head.

bc everyone is doing their own thing, and when you’re together you’re together but when you’re not, you’re not on their mind. just like they are not on mine. it’s just how it is.

i want to find someone who when they're not physically here, they're still here with me. or someone who will be here for the moments i'm always alone.

and fictional characters can only do so much. i fucking sob every time i hear greg's voice say "i'm here" bc no one is actually here. like i just want to find someone who will make me feel like i'm not lonely anymore.

my biggest fear is that i'll stay alone forever and that's just how it is. i'm so scared of it, it genuiely makes me freak out when i imagine me old feeling the same way i do rn.

and i know i push people away which doesn’t help at all. and idk why i do that. my mom told me recently “i never see you anymore. you’ve become so distant” and i cried so much that night bc it’s true. or when my brother asks me to hang out and i just turn him down.

i know i need to work on myself and i am trying but i just really wish i had my own person :( people love to talk about self love and i GET it. but like…i am not gonna hold my own self and tell me “hey. it’s gonna be okay.” and no one will do that for me.

[peonierose]

I would love to hear more about Sea Salt, Amber, and Primrose.

And your folder looks awesome!

Makes me want to go clean mine up 🤣

Hii 🥰

Oh trust me it only looks this neat right now, because I merely put out the titles but you should how it looks on my phone 😅

Here are some snippets. Some titles might surprise you 💚 Thanks a bunch for asking and hopefully some of the titles will see the light of the day through a post 💚

Sea Salt

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Maxine Moore x Adam Sinclair

Summary: A few weeks ago Maxi and Adam went on their first date. Are they going to make their relationship official? Or do they still need more time?

”So? How was your date with Adam?“

Another girl asks me and I turn in her direction. Her green eyes sparkle in the sun that’s streaming in through the windows.

”Gabby!“

”What we all want to know.“ She replies.

I look at all of them and wonder how they know that I had a date. Least of all with whom?

”How do you guys know about this?“ I ask and look at everyone.

”I think your mom and my mom talked about it and well we all kinda heard about it.“

Isabel says.

I look at her and she shrugs with her shoulders.

”Okay fine. I can’t be mad at you. Yes I went on another date with Adam, and yes it was amazing.“

Another girl I think her name is Leilani asks.

”Did you guys kiss?“ Everyone leans forward wanting to know more.

I grin and look at the girls.

”You guys are full of questions huh?“

When they keep looking at me I sigh.

”Yes we kissed and no, I won't give you details.“

They all sigh and then burst out laughing.

Amber

Book: Open Heart - Superhero / Villain AU

Pairing: Luna Auclair x Bryce Lahela

Summary: Two people leading lives with secret identities. One good the other not evil but operating in the Grey area. What happens when a real villain gets them to work together and the discover each others identity?

I was still in high school when I discovered I was somehow different from the rest of my friends. I could do things with light that they couldn’t. I thought I was just seeing things. Boy was I wrong.

You probably ask yourself what makes me so special from the rest?

Slowly over time I developed photokinesis. It’s the power to manipulate light. Cool huh? Well when it comes to learning and training? Not so much. I’ve had to learn all of those things on my own.

It was pretty fucking scary for me, because there was no one I could ask for advice. No one handed me a manual or helped me correct and improve on my mistakes.

Slowly I discovered some of my powers. Over time I got better with my skills and abilities.

I know I know. It doesn't sound all that impressive at first, but when you think about it, it’s actually one of the coolest powers there is.

I can fract, bend, or move light.

Create holographic images, turn invisible, and even move at light-speed simply by adjusting the properties of the light that surrounds me.

Trust me I’ve tried out many things. Simply to see what’s possible with light manipulation.

Soon after I finished high-school my parents got arrested for financial fraud. I never saw it coming. None of our friends and family did.

Life got pretty lonely after that. When everyone stares at you. Silently judging you.

You were basically unfollowed overnight everywhere. From picta, from any social channels. No more party invitations, no social gatherings.

Soon you were shunned by everyone.

That’s when I vowed to do better and to provide my sister Keiki with a different life.

Primrose

Book: Open Heart

Summary: Bryce and Ethan go to a sex dungeon. They try to bond and really get to know each other and maybe even become friends.

“Screw you Lahela,“ Ethan says through the phone.

Not deterred the least I reply

“Oh I plan to. Luna and I get very creative. If you and Hayley need any pointers I’d be happy to give you some tips,“ I can’t resist adding.

“Can you please get to the point of your call. I’ve got a life you know?“ Ethan grumbles.

I lean against the headboard of my hotel room in Boston. I already miss our bedroom in Honolulu. I close my eyes and imagine the light ocean breeze bringing sea salt, fish and the flowery scent of hibiscuses and roses with it.

I re-open my eyes. Adjusting to the change of scenery.

“I called because I’m lonely,“ I say and Ethan interrupts me.

“Then go to your fiancé,“ he replies.

“That’s the thing. Luna is on a girls trip with her mom, gran, Keiki, Maxi and Maxis mom. So I flew to Boston. It’s Friday night and I called you because you could use a bit of fun in your life. No offense Hayley,“ I add because I don’t want to offend her.

I can hear Ethan sigh into the phone.

“Alright. If you had drinks in mind I can be at Donahue’s in 15,“ he says.

I chuckle.

“We’re not going to Donahue’s my dear sweet innocent Ethan,“ I say getting up to grab a shower and get changed

“There’s so many things wrong with that sentence,“ Ethan mutters.

”I’ve got you. Dress nice and I’ll text you the address,“ I say and hang up before he can protest.

True to my word I send Ethan the address of Primrose.

I hop off the bed, take out some clothes from my suitcase and go grab a shower.

Whistling all the while I’m in the shower.

[clawbehavior]

Hello, I hope you are having a lovely day/night 💞🌷🏵️🍵

For the ao3 wrapped:

11,12,15,18

omg these asks led me on a trip down memory lane and made me so excited for my biggest WIP (which has also been a pain in my ass), so tysm for sending them anon ❤️❤️🙏

11. What work took you the longest to write?

hands down 'everything everywhere all at once', my modern au where gaon drops out of law school when his parents die and falls for their private money lender, kyh, against his better instincts. here's the funny thing: i intended to complete in one one week with 3 chapters published in 3 days!! i started it in January 2023, nearly a year ago. 

i love this story so much. i wanted to write a gentle kyh for gaon so badly, but that's difficult to do for canon unless i wrote them post-canon. so i made an angsty au. this story was also my first true foray into FF writing on a03 years and years after i had put content creation aside, and the story ended up becoming a gateway to a totally new side of TDJ fandom. people share so many beautiful ideas about the lawful family in their story comments that fic writing feels like a rich conversation. so many times i have written gahan one way to read somebody's thoughts in the comments and go ahhhh i didn't even think of that. hearing people's perspectives has been such a rewarding and crucial piece of writing bc i am a person who works best when sounding ideas off another. 

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

straight for the heart, lmao. i have three, all 95 per cent ready for publication, in that the story is fully written out and the dialogue is completely polished in some areas but i am missing a key part that's critical for bringing the story together. it's too clunky basically. 

for example, when i was writing 'i hope you are lonely' the sex tape fic, i had everything written except a single scene: i couldn't figure out how gaon publicly responded to the tape. this was a crucial part of the story because his emotion would set the tone for how comfortable he felt expressing sexual desire for yohan and thus the progression of their relationship. was he hurt and afraid? angry and sexually frustrated? wanting revenge or to move on? and how did all those emotions shape what he asked yohan for, a man who would give him whatever he wanted. so this nearly complete draft was sitting in my GD for weeks until a reader asked me when i was updating and while i was typing out everything above just how i wrote it for you some part of my brain suddenly woke up and came up with a solution. i published the fic the next day. 

all this to say that the 3 stories i have lined up for publication are experiencing the same thing. basically polished except for oooooone thing. i need to tease out what a character feels about a specific event to successfully build the tension until it ratchets up to unbearable levels and needs to be released right the fuck now, i.e. theyre going to talk about it or fuck it out or whatever. but until that piece comes to me....these fics remain in the drafts. who knows tho, maybe after this a03 wrapped my ADHD brain will pop back in and do it's darned job. 

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

all of them! i don't publish a multi chap unless i have the ending written. otherwise it stays a oneshot. rn i am excited for i hope you are lonely, elevator troubles, and everything everywhere all at once.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

isaac! i actually didn't realize this until you asked me in concrete terms, so thanks for helping me articulate the writing block i am having. it's the kang isaac in my money lender au. he does something that has significant consequences but needs plausible deniability for the story to work. i can't nail down why he does it tho. he meddles, and he's foolish and he causes trouble but not vindictively or deliberately. his heart is in the right place, but how do i write him without overly abusing the trope of the good guy who bumbled his way into something wrong? now that i'm asking myself this specific question, i may come up with an answer. 

thinking through this was loads of fun and a perfect way to spend lunch break pfft. you have yourself a good weekend 🎉🎉🥳🎉🎊🎉🥳