#still stuck in my head but thank god I have an icon of her genuinely enjoying herself

[hadephobic-a]

"If Annie puts her hair up on her head Paints them lips up bright, bright red Wears that dress that fits real tight Starts stayin' out till the middle of the night Says that her friend gave her a lift Well Annie's been workin' on the midnight shift~!

[curiositydooropened]

Better Off - Part One

Four years since Argyle's wedding, Robin invited you and the gang to her boss's lake house. Hoping good memories will be made, you're forced to wrestle with some ghosts of your past.

This fic runs in the same Universe as My Whole Life, Too.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader

Wordcount: 11,019

Warnings: second chance romance, angst, fluff, sex and sex adjacent (minors DNI, thanks!), recreational drinking and drug use, mentions of pregnancy and parenthood, mentions of the loss of loved ones

Navigation • Masterlist • Part Two

---

The paper garbage sack slipped against the slick chiffon of your floral skirt as you fumbled for the brass door handle.  When the door swung open, you hoisted the sack back up your hip like a sack of flour, catching a rogue apple with the crook of your chin before it went rolling off the pile. 

“Hello?” You called out, stepping into a warm house. Windows were open on either side, a breeze trickling through the foyer and tickling your upper thigh where your skirt had ridden up, caught on your haul. You toed out of your sneakers and huffed your bangs from your eyes. “Anyone home?” 

To no response, you sashayed through the cramped dining room to the kitchen entrance to find a figure hunched in the warm glow of the refrigerator lightbulb. Blue checkered boxers stuck out from the waist band of painted-on black jeans, a black t-shirt loose around a slender build. You waited for him to stand before you slumped your groceries to the wooden countertops with a dramatic sigh.

“It’s fine, I’ve got ‘em.” 

Eddie Munson spun on bare feet to face you, a look of genuine surprise flashed before the corners of his lips turned up in that iconic Cheshire grin, all teeth. You were disappointed to find his dimples hiding behind the patchiest goatee anyone could grow. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He cracked the beer in his hand and kicked the fridge closed. 

“Uh huh,” you practiced an unimpressed demeanor, despite everything in your body screaming to launch yourself into his arms. “Help me with the groceries.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted with two fingers and his beer can before taking a long gulp. His eyes never left yours, so you rolled your eyes and broke the contact, dipping into your bags to start putting things in a bare pantry and refrigerator. 

Eddie sidled up behind you, all spice and cigarette smoke and warm, arms snaked around your middle while his head rested on your shoulder. You cried out and swatted at him as his stubble came to tickle the skin where your jaw met your ear, but he only tightened his grip. “I haven’t seen you in months, and you thought you could get away without affection? You wound me, sweetheart.” 

With a resigned sigh, you gave in, sinking into him nearly deadweight, and he heaved dramatically to hold you upright, swaying back and forth as he pressed lithe kisses to the tops of your cheeks. 

“I missed you,” he graveled, that vibration in your back that sent your knees weak every God damn time. 

“Missed you too,” you rubbed his forearms before patting at his wrists for release. “Now put this meat in the freezer before it goes bad.”

He did as he was told, albeit like a teenager, balancing a steak on top his scraggly hair and one in each hand. He tossed them in and they landed on the frosty interior with thumps. “D’you run into him?” 

“Who?” You breathed, glancing sideways back through the dining room. Your heart began to race in your chest. 

“Steve,” Eddie answered.

You shuffled flour and sugar, baking soda, and lined it up against the wall, eyes still fixed on the front door you left open. “No, should I have?” 

“He and Nance went to the store.” Eddie picked three apples from the top and began to juggle them. “Figured your paths might have crossed.” 

Your shoulders relaxed, and you caught one apple midair and walked it to the fruit basket nearest the breakfast nook on the opposite side of the kitchen. “Could you not play with your food?” 

“You never had a problem with it before,” Eddie tongued at a molar, cheeky grin spread across his features again. His eyebrows waggled. 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I thought Robin made you promise not to be gross this week.” 

He shrugged, added butter, eggs, and bacon to the refrigerator. “Mom’s not home, and we’re both consenting adults.” 

You barked a laugh and glanced around the corner once more. The breeze swept in through billowy, white curtains. After a moment, they fell to expose the long gravel driveway. Your car was parked out front next to another you didn’t recognize. Out of state plates signified it must be a rental. “Yeah where is Robin? She left her boss’s vacation home in your hands?” 

“Ouch,” Eddie snickered, leaning against the back counter to sip his beer again. You shot him a look. He grinned, shaking his hair from his eyes. “She went to pick up Jonathan and Argyle from the airport. She left Nancy in charge.” 

“Ah,” you smiled, folding the paper bags in on themselves to stash under the sink. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking until now, didn’t feel the tremor of your knee cap as it bounced in place. You licked your lips, glanced once more toward the entrance hall. “When do you think they’ll be back?” 

“Any minute,” Eddie answered behind you.

“Cool,” you breathed.

He laughed. “C’mere, sweetheart. Let’s get you a drink.”

You spun on your heel with a smile, nodding fervently.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised, and he tucked his fingers around your hip bone to pull you in closer. 

You slipped his beer from his other hand to sip. It was cheap, and a little stale, and the rim tasted of Eddie, cigarette smoke and spice. “I don’t think I’ll survive this week sober. Do you have anything else to help me out?” You smirked, trailing your fingertips from the guitar pick on his sternum down his chest and past protruding hipbones to the tight front pocket of his jeans.

He wriggled out of your reach, but you managed to sneak two fingers in to procure a rolled up piece of paper. Holding it between you, you were disappointed to find a one dollar bill in place of the joint you were hoping for. “Told you, sweetheart. I don’t do that shit anymore. You’re going to have to ask Argyle.” 

“Traitor,” you admonished. 

He chuckled, fingertips finding purchase under the flow of your t-shirt, just where your flesh rolled above the elastic waistband of your skirt. “But I can offer your something harder than expired beer.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Keep it in your pants, Munson.” 

And then, you were launched across the room. Not quite launched, but had the hard wood been a little slicker, your socks might have betrayed you under the shove Eddie gave you. Some beer sputtered from the can in your hand and splashed the ground. He stood up straight and flashed you an apologetic look before you heard the ruckus in the next room.

“Hey, assholes. Want to help with these groceries?”

Your heart fell into your toes. You hadn’t heard those tones in four years. Not that clear, at least. You’d forgotten how Midwestern he sounded, the long As of his profanities. It hurt, ached somewhere within you you didn’t know existed. Your mouth was dry, and your hand shook too hard when you tried to take another sip, so you placed the can to the countertop.

“Dude, seriously, there’s like three more bags in the car - “ Steve’s voice cut off the moment he entered the claustrophobic kitchen, and he froze right in the doorway, blocking your only exit.

You swallowed and mustered the courage to look up, and there he was, Steve Harrington in all his glory, arms full of plastic grocery bags teeming with snacks. “Hi,” your voice cracked, betrayed you.

“Uh… hi.” His pink lips quirked in a strained smile, and suddenly he was far too close, all encompassing. His face was clean shaven, but his hair remained long and voluptuous. You couldn’t help but notice the pepper graying his temples, the wrinkles at the corner of those honeyed doe eyes. It hurt in that spot again, emotion dammed at your throat, blocking you from making any more noise. 

“Awkward,” Eddie snorted in a singsong.

“Shut up,” you snapped, while Steve simultaneously groaned, “fuck off!” And at least that had the three of you snickering.

“Car, you said?” Eddie pointed past Steve, and the latter had to shuffle further into your space to let the other man through.

Steve smelled the same, expensive cologne and a bit of whisky, and you had to grip the countertop with your fingertips to stay upright when his bicep brushed your own so he should schlep his overfull bags off his arms. His forearms were thick and tan and veiny, and you busied yourself with helping him empty the bags just to keep your mind occupied on something other than being within touching distance.

“Oh, someone bought eggs.” His voice broke through the awkward swish of plastic and squish of styrofoam and cardboard and ting of tin cans.

“Yeah, me. Sorry. No one told me.” You trailed off, tonguing at a canker sore near a back molar that you’d manifested in the stress of the week leading up to this trip, the anxiety of this very moment.

“No it’s cool. We just had to get out,” he offered as an explanation, and that stung a bit too. “I mean… stretch our legs. Me and Nance.” 

You glanced his way, and he ducked back into the fridge. “Where is Nance?”

“Upstairs. I guess she’s not feeling well. Food poison from the airport, she thinks.”

You hummed and turned back to the bag, nearly empty in front of you. You felt a bit panicked, closed in, like your face was too close to the plastic and it was all you could breathe. You dipped shaky hands inside to find the last glass jar, white lid, full to the brim with the florescent brine of maraschino cherries.

You heard the suction of the refrigerator door close, and you felt Steve’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t look away from the cherries, each of them slamming into one another like buoys after a storm. Your heart thundered in your ears and your chest, and all of you rattled when Steve muttered the syllables of your name.

“Hey, look who I found!” Eddie burst through the door with arms full of the last three grocery bags, and the ruckus of the entrance hall startled the cherries from your hand to the countertop beside your baking supplies. You moved aside to give him room to drop his haul, and you glanced around his lean frame to see Steve scratch at the stubble on his chin, a far-off look in his eyes. 

“Is my best friend in there?” You heard a screech and the stomping of feet, and you plastered on a smile and stepped into the line of fire to catch Robin as she came sliding into the room.

She was all limbs and hair, and she cackled in your ear as she enveloped you in a hug, rocking you back and forth too many times. “Ohhhh, I’ve missed you.” 

“I talked to you yesterday,” you laughed, running your fingertips down her slender shoulder blades. 

“Yeah, but that was on the phone. I haven’t seen you in person in ages. Did you cut your hair? Did you get a new perfume?” Robin held you at arm’s length to shower you in compliments. “You look incredible. Doesn’t she look incredible?”

Instinctively, your gaze met Steve’s over Robin’s shoulder. Your face heated, and his lips fell open to say something. 

“She looks incredible,” Jonathan interjected from behind you, grabbing your wrist from Robin’s waist to sweep you into a warm hug. He always smelled of leather and the metal of the New York subway, and was the refreshing breath of home you needed in that moment, centering, calm. You and Jonathan had grown close over the years, seeing each other every few months for coffee or bagels or a slice at 3am between the bar and home. “You good?” He mumbled in your ear, and you nodded, giving him an extra tight squeeze. 

“This house is super nice, Robin,” Argyle commented, admiring the setting of your little reunion. He’d aged the most, but perhaps aside from Steve, it’d been the longest since you’d seen him. A sleek of grey framed his face, long hair tucked back into a low ponytail. His mustache nearly met his sideburns, and his dark eyes crinkled in a smile when he caught your eye, reaching to envelope you in greeting.

The room shuffled around to allow everyone to say hi to one another, and Eddie began emptying the final bags and clinking things around, and Robin yammered on about her boss letting her using his summer home before the season, and the lake, and Argyle and Jonathan crowded countertops and sidestepped Eddie, and soon you were sandwiched beside Steve. You leaned back to catch yourself, and caught the meat of his thigh in your grasp, both of your jolting upright at the sudden contact. 

“Alright,” you huffed. “There are far too many people in my kitchen right now. If you idiots want buns for your burgers and an apple pie for dessert, I’d recommend you all find somewhere else to congregate.” You wiped your hands on your skirt, the warmth of Steve’s denim leg sent all nerve endings ablaze.

Jonathan chuckled, hands up, eyes sparkling as he backed slowly out of your way and back into the dining room.

“Okay, Your Highness, Geeze,” Robin laughed. “Come on, gents. I’ll show you to your rooms.” 

“Oh!” You crossed to the purse you’d managed to drop some time ago and fished around the bucket for your keys. “If anyone could please get my suitcase and pillow out of the trunk for me, I’d love you forever.”

“I got it, sweetheart,” Eddie tugged the keyring off your finger, mischief flashing in his dark eyes. 

“Don’t even think about looking through my stuff, perv,” you jabbed at the pick around his neck.

“Nothing I haven’t already seen,” he winked, voice low, and twirled his way out of the room. 

You rolled your eyes and pulled the flour from its spot against the wall. 

“I’m going to check on Nance.” A voice muttered from behind you, and you startled long enough to see Steve’s towering frame rush from the room. 

You exhaled, brushing your bangs from your eyes and made to pull down a large mixing bowl. This was going to be a long week.

—

Robin’s boss had taste, or at least his wife did. Lakefront views, west-facing so every angle of the house was bathed in rich reds and burnt auburns as the sun dipped into tranquil waters on the horizon. The cottage-style home stood at the top of a slope downward, a deck with barbecue and place settings sat a level down, and the dock on the third level below, bobbing calmy in the wake. 

You licked condiments from the corners of your lips, fingertips stretching through a paper napkin, hunger from a long day satiated. Everything smelled of smoke and summertime. You tipped your head back, sunglasses gliding up the bridge of your nose, and basked in the warm glow of evening, breathing in the chatter of family, of home. 

“So, Jonathan, I hear you’ve finally sold out like the rest of us.” Steve commented, bringing his beer bottle to pink lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jonathan nodded, stretching himself out in his own chair beside you. “Kids call me Mr. Byers and everything. It’s disgusting.” Jonathan started teaching in the fall, photography at NYU. Freelance wasn’t paying the bills as he’d hoped. 

“I shudder to think that today’s youths are being taught by you four,” Robin pointed in disdain at each of the men in front of her. Argyle taught shop. Steve taught gym at Hawkins High. 

“Hey, I don’t teach. I hold extra curricular jam sessions and spend my time picking notes out of locker doors. Have you seen Mr. Harrington’s ass today? He’s soooo hot.” Eddie snickered, sloshing beer with every dramatic gesture. You swallowed around his words, trying not to imagine Steve in his track suit, hands on his hips, tonguing the whistle between his lips.

“Dude, gross,” Steve tossed his napkin at the other boy. “Those are kids. Literal children.” 

“Oh yeah! Nancy told me Holly was your student this year.” Robin cackled. “Nancy, what was it she was saying about him over Christmas?” 

Steve groaned, and the group turned to Nancy for an answer, but she was caught in her own world, staring off into the sunset behind designer glasses. Her hair was cropped short, sleek, perfect pink lips pursed in a pout. It took Eddie’s bump of her knee to realize she’d been called out.

“Um… what?” 

“Earth to Nance,” Robin snapped her fingers. “You good? What the hell did you eat?” 

Nancy had barely touched her hamburger, lettuce and tomato remained untouched and wilted to the side of her bun. “Nothing,” she snapped, pushing out of her chair. The metal feet scraped against wooden floorboards. “I’m going down to the water.” She grumbled and bolted for the staircase, sandals clacking against her heels with each step. 

“Jesus,” Robin grumbled, pushing up from her own chair with a huff, resigning to apologize, but Steve beat her to it, hand to her shoulder.

“I’ve got it.” He reassured, soothing her back to her seat so he could head off after Nancy. You allowed your eyes to trail his frame as he left, watching the shift of his shoulders, the slight limp in his walk still prevalent after all these years. 

“So…” Jonathan bumped you with his elbow. “How’re you?” 

“I’m good,” you replied, simply ignoring the implications in his tone. 

“They’re both freaking the fuck out,” Eddie translated. You shot him a glare. “Oh, don’t act like everything’s fine, sweetheart. You guys should have seen them say hi to each other. They were staring, mouths wide open like a couple of fish, man.” 

You groaned and tipped your head back again, praying the heat of the sun would disguise the warmth crawling up your chest and throat. 

Robin’s groaned matched yours. “You guys said you’d behave. This was a mistake, wasn’t it? I just wanted a good vacation with my best friends after ten whole years, and I guess I should have known better.” Robin Buckley was the master of guilt trips. 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Jonathan offered. 

“Sure,” Robin chided. “Then why haven’t you spoken a word to Nancy all day?” 

You rounded on the boy with a smirk, the tables turned his direction. 

He gaped back at you both, peeling at the label of his beer bottle. “We’ve talked. We said hi. I see Nancy all the time. We’re good. The last time you and Steve spoke, he asked you to marry him.” He smirked.

“Cheers, asshole,” you grumbled into your drink, finding the disappointment of the last few drops of beer, now warm under your clammy touch.

“Whoa, my dudes, chill,” Argyle pushed his sunglasses up and off his face as he leaned forward. “We’re all adults here, and Robin invited us to this beautiful lakeside oasis to have a good time. Everyone’s going to get along, even if it takes a little encouragement.” He fished in the breast pocket of a technicolor shirt until tanned fingers exposed the stark white paper of one of the largest joints you’ve ever seen. 

“Robin,” you grinned, plucking the cigarette from the man’s oversized hands, “you’ve just been replaced as my favorite person here.” 

“Hey!” Eddie and Jonathan argued, but you watched with delight as Argyle leaned toward you, flame of his lighter a royal blue. 

—

With the sun went the warmth, and a blunt between seven people, no matter how big, quickly dwindled to giggles and hummed songs and playing with Robin’s hair between your fingers with her head in your lap. You wore someone’s well-loved sweater, the duck on the front no clear indication of owner, and savored the morsels of apple pie that stuck to your molars while you sunk deeper and deeper into the couch, your head light and your heart lighter. 

“I appreciate that you’re all happy high,” Eddie snorted, running fingertips over your freshly shaven shins. He meant what he said about not partaking, despite all of your whiny peer pressure, and you admired him for it. He was a good babysitter anyhow, and he smoked a cigarette while the rest of you passed around saliva and anecdotes about the daily life. 

“Dude, we appreciate you, man,” Argyle nodded slowly, patting his sternum in devotion. He confessed he hadn’t been high in two years, not since the first baby was born, and it was clear as his pupils grew wider, slap happy smile across his features. 

Eddie patted him on the shoulder in solidarity. 

“Dude, do you remember prom?” Steve chuckled.

Your ministrations on Robin’s scalp stopped, and you could feel the tingle of your heartbeat against your ribcage. You’d never forget prom. Steve wore a turquoise cummerbund and bow tie to match your taffeta dress. His hair was slicked into that perfect coif, and he met you at your front door with a corsage in hand. He smelled of peppermint toothpaste, and didn’t even flinch when mom pinched his cheek, or when dad gave him that hard ass handshake.

He danced every song with you, swayed under the lights and banners, until your feet hurt, and then he brought you a mouthful of bright red, spiked punch. That was the first bit of alcohol you’d had, a cherry floating to the top of your paper cup. 

Eddie snorted. “Holy shit, do you remember prom?” 

You sunk further under Robin’s frame, and she made a humph of protest at being stirred, tucking her cheek further into the underside of your boob. 

“What was prom?” Jonathan chuckled, but you could see his mouth continuing to pronounce the letters of the word ‘prom’, like it was some foreign word to him. You’d laugh, if it weren’t for the panic. 

“Couple months ago, I was cleaning up after prom, and I found this massive stash under the bleachers. So I brought it home, and since I don’t partake…” he gestured with a lazy grin toward Steve.

“I was fucked up. I don’t know what kids are into these days, but I almost - “ He met your gaze from across the coffee table, mouth quirked in the softest of smiles, until it coughed it away, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head and looked back at Jonathan. “I almost did something I’d regret.” 

“‘Prom’s a funny word, man,” Jonathan giggled. “Prom. Prom.” And although his laughter was contagious, had the room going, you couldn’t help but feel the familiar pit of heartache in your stomach that hurt somewhere new every time Steve looked at you. 

“Okay, dickheads,” Robin announced, pushing herself off of you with surprising force. “I love you, but you’re all being so loud, and Nancy’s trying to sleep.” She pointed to the floor above, disgruntled expression not unlike a toddler.

“Maybe it’s time for all of us to turn into pumpkins,” Eddie started a chain reaction of yawns and stretches, lanky arms over his head to expose a bit of pale skin on his stomach. 

The cold water was refreshing on your face, hair tucked into a stretchy headband and teeth brushed. You weren’t sure if you’d partake in another round of Mary Jane this week. This high went from cozy to anxious far too quickly, and sometimes melancholy wasn’t the ideal way to trudge to bed. You passed Eddie on your way out of the bathroom, receiving a slap to the ass that had you blowing him a kiss before you slipped into your designated bedroom to turn in for the night. 

Your room was small, with a double bed and a little nightstand, a chair in the corner that hosted your open suitcase, contents already strewn in piles around the room in the search for your pajamas. A small window faced the front of the house, moonlight filtering in, and the antique lamp on the bedside provided a warm glow. The ceilings were vaulted, a little nook of wood and plaster that peaked above the headboard, and the patched blue quilt was handmade. 

Steve sat facing the door, hands in his lap, socked feet firmly on the floorboards.

You jumped, grasping at your chest as you slammed against the closed door behind you, nearly chucking your toiletry bag at him. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” you scolded.

His eyebrows shot up in apology, head ducked. He looked small, unsure, like the kids he used to cart around. He didn’t say anything, but you watched doe eyes trail your face and linger downwards. 

You felt hot, exposed in a t-shirt and tiny bed shorts, and you shifted uncomfortably on the balls of your feet. “What uh…” You swallowed. “What’s up?” What’s up? Really?

“Do you remember prom?” This time you knew which he meant. 

He stood from his spot, took a step toward you, and out of fear he’d pull you in for a dance, you made about organizing your mess of a suitcase. 

Steve cursed under his breath. “I just mean… we were best friends once, weren’t we?” And God, did that hurt too. “I know I fucked up, I fucked everything up so so bad last time, and maybe I was stupid thinking that we could come here and it’d be like no time had passed, like nothing had happened.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

“And now I’m just in your room, rambling about what a dick I am, when you know that. Of course you know that. And you probably don’t care or want to forgive me, or - “

“What do you want, Steve?” You were surprised at the evenness of your own voice, folding a t-shirt, back still turned, maybe terrified to look at him while his hesitation rang like a bell in your head. 

He sighed. “Civility? I guess. I want a truce. Just for this week. For Robin.”

You glanced over your shoulder, saw his demeanor shift from desperation to something stiffer, unnatural, salesman Steve. You swallowed and folded your arms over your chest, turning to face him. “What does this truce entail?” 

He shrugged, arms mirroring yours. “You could talk to me every so often. Let me take interest in your life, maybe even take some interest in mine.” You cocked an eyebrow, but you could tell his facade was breaking, the corner of his lip quirked upward. 

“No referencing us, or Louisville,” you gestured between the two of you, watched his smile falter. “If someone else brings it up, we act like we have no clue what they’re talking about.”

He stood a little taller, hands to his hips. “You quit acting like I have cooties, sit next to me, interact with me, laugh at my jokes.” 

“Deal’s off,” you scoffed.

It took a second for your sarcasm to hit him, but you felt your lips tug up in mirror to his own. He snorted, shook some hair into his eyes. 

You wanted to reach up and push it from his forehead, to trail your fingertip down the ridged edge of his nose, to cup his cheek. You noticed his eyes scan your features, trail once again down your front, to your exposed thighs. You swallowed and hugged your arms closer. “And we reserve the right to go back to normal come Friday.”

His eyes snapped back to yours, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob before he offered a curt nod. He wiped a hand on his thigh before extending it toward you, brows furrowed in determination. “Truce?” 

You clenched your fist a few times before crossing to meet his gesture. “Truce.” You slid your hand into his for a firm shake, and you almost melted at the way his digits enveloped yours. Just like prom night, corsage sliding to your wrist. You broke away quickly with a nod toward the door. “Now get out of here, creep. I’m beat.” 

“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry. I mean… you know… goodnight.” 

“Night,” you smiled, and as he left, you couldn’t help but feel something was missing from your exchange.

—

Your midmorning scones were a bit too salty for your liking, no doubt a sabotaging tactic of Eddie’s. Everyone argued with you about how perfect and delicious they were until you waved them off, refilling your coffee mug and joining Nancy on the terrace while the rest trudged to the rickety dock for a morning zoom on the boat. 

Nancy wasn’t looking much better, although the pink had returned to her cheeks, and a shower did a lot for the bounce in her hair. She sipped water from a glass and held slender fingers to shade her eyes from the sparkle of lake water. Even sick, she was a super model, stretched a satin robe across a chaise. 

“How was last night?” She pulled an abandoned journal from your chair to make room, and tucked it under the rolled towel at her back. 

You sighed and stretched out beside her, accepting the morning breeze across warmed skin from yesterday’s sun. “Steve snuck into my room last night.” 

“What?” Her eyes went wide. 

You waved her off. “Nothing happened. I think he just wanted to corner me. I guess we have a truce, for the week.

Nancy settled back into her seat. “Thank God. I don’t think I have the patience for that right now.”

You snorted and sipped your coffee, bitter from a second drip, again a sabotage on Eddie’s part. You made a note not to allow him in the kitchen for the rest of the week. “Yeah, what is up with you? Did work just like go to shit since I saw you last month?”

“I’m pregnant.” 

Nancy was lucky you’d swallowed when you did, but you held your coffee mug aloft and blinked into your reflection in the sludge until your brain picked up on the meaning behind her words. Setting your drink to the deck, you swung your legs to her side of your chair and leaned forward. “Excuse me?” 

There were tears in her blue eyes, welling just around the edges, an emotion Nancy rarely portrayed. She was tough as nails, would rather lash out in violence than in tears. Terror flashed through her features.

You scrambled to meet her on the chair, pulling her into your neck before she could meltdown. You were at a loss for words, your mind just racing with images of Nancy in Boston, the least-tied down of the group, even less than you. She never stayed in an apartment longer than six months, always begged for stories that took her out of town, traveling the world, chasing the exact opposite of that American Pie life her parents raised her in. 

After two seconds of tears, all she’d allow herself, Nancy pushed off from you and swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “I missed my period, which is whatever, sometimes it’s late. And then I threw up on the plane, but I just thought it was motion sickness of whatever, but something was off. Like I just kind of knew. So when Steve said he was going to the store, I tagged along and bought five tests at the pharmacy. Every single one was positive. Every God damn one.” That familiar anger flared in her eyes, and you thought her wrath might explode on the pregnancy test factory workers.

A thousand questions buzzed in your mind, but none of them bubbled to the surface, so you just ran light fingertips down her arm, hoping it provided some form of comfort.

“Steve found me catatonic in the bathroom, and I asked him to get rid of the evidence. So he knows, but no one else.”

Instantly, your heart sank for the man. All he wanted was a family, a full brood of Harringtons. First with Nancy, then with you. You couldn’t imagine how he took that blow. 

“Can we keep it between us please?” 

You nodded fervently. “Hand to heart. Are you…?” You didn’t even know how to end that question. 

“I’ll live,” she shrugged. “I’m just grateful I found out here, with you guys, instead of on a job in South Africa or worse, at my mother’s.” Nancy groaned and buried her face in her hands. “My mom’s going to have an aneurysm.” 

You rubbed between her shoulder blades and stared off at the shimmer of sunlight across the lake’s water, a little metal boat casting its wake your direction.

—

Light filtered through the kitchen window soft and slow, a breeze billowy gossamer curtains. You washed and peeled potatoes in the sink, an old apron tied around your waist that you’d found in the pantry cupboard. You hummed to yourself, some obnoxious tune Eddie had been singing all day, stretched out in his sun lounger, pale skin turning a deep shade of lobster pink.

Each friend had filtered in and out as you cooked, complimenting the scents of onions sautéing on their pan or offering unwanted help rolling out the pastry dough for the potato pies you were making. You reassured Robin you’d be fine on your own and ushered her back outside for an evening stroll to the nearest convenient store for liquor. 

You thought they’d all gone, surprised when a large figure loomed behind you to see the potatoes in a strainer over your shoulder. 

“Smells amazing in here,” Steve commented, stepping quickly out of your space to open the refrigerator. 

You hummed in agreement, basking in the waft of coconut suntan and expensive cologne he left in his wake.

“So, you uh… talked to Nance?” Steve sidled to the countertop beside you, thankfully a few feet away, and cracked into a beer. 

You offered him wide eyes, noticing the patch of red that rimmed his eyes like a mask from where his sunglasses sat. “Yeah, what the actual hell?” 

“Crazy right?” He shook his head, dipping back for a swig, exposing the tanned column of his throat.

You licked your lips and turned back to your potatoes, not wanting to slice yourself with the peeler. “How are you taking it?” 

His long pause almost had you regretting the question, wondering if you’d toed over the line, over the parameters of your truce. It was hard to fall back into acquaintance territory when you knew so many truths about him, his deepest desires, his biggest fears.

“Yeah,” his voice sounded small. He cleared his throat. “Yeah I mean it’s weird, right?”

You glanced his direction again, watched the pink of his tongue wet his lips.

He leaned a little closer, tilting his head your direction. Your heart began to race at the low rumble of his voice, breath fanning your cheek. “Do we know who the dad is? Is it… Jonathan?” He whispered the other man’s name, a sound for your ears only.

You shook your head, wiping your hands on your apron before elbowing Steve out of your way, transporting the strainer of peeled potatoes to the cutting board. “No way. They haven’t hooked up since like Argyle’s wedding. No, she’s been seeing this guy… Robbie. He lives in Hartford, and Jonathan just started dating this girl, Joanie or Julie?” You reassured, trying to disconnect any tacked yarn Steve had built on his mind bulletin board. Long gone were the days of Nancy and Jonathan meeting at your dad’s on the weekend from a friend trip turned third-wheel romp.

He seemed to relax at your reassurances, swigging his beer while he watched you work. He stood in comfortable silence, a sturdy frame with a silk shirt and board shorts, peeling at his label until you’d reached into the bucket for a third potato.

“And you?” He asked, voice a low rumble again.

“Me what?” You raised your eyebrow his direction. 

“Do you have a Robbie in Hartford?”

Your knife slid easily into the flesh of a boiled potato, making a dull thunk against the wooden cutting board. Steve had angled himself your direction, blocking any light from the kitchen window. He was too close, all encompassing, warm breath against your cheek. 

You glanced upward through your lashes find honeyed eyes, too much hope lingering in the way he watched you. There was something knee-weakening about the way he licked his lips. 

“Steve,” a cry of anguish separated you. The sun filtered back in with the breeze. Nancy slumped herself to the door frame, wiping sweat from her brow. “Robin fell and skinned her knee, and the blood is going to make me puke. Can you handle it?”

Steve elicited a sigh your dad would have been envious of, and he pushed off the counter to take care of his eldest child. You tried not to watch him go, tried not to offer a sad smile when he glanced back your direction, tried not to wish he hadn’t gone. 

“Are those carrots?” Nancy pointed to the pile beside your knife. You smiled and slipped one into her outstretched hand.

—

The crickets chirped their asynchronous tune, and the campfire crackled and glowed auburn off the water’s edge. Gravel  and damp planks carved grooves into your asscheeks, but the cheap cinnamon whisky Robin found provided inner warmth and good company. 

“Whoa there, sparky,” Eddie caught Robin as she swayed his direction, kneecaps covered in oversized band-aids. 

“Yeah, Rob, you know the rules. No standing when you’re this flammable,” Nancy chided from her spot beside you. She was huddled in close for warmth, licking the chocolate off s’more stained fingertips. 

“I just love you guys, okay?” Robin allowed Eddie to coax her back to the ground, knees curled to her chest to form the perfect mould for her chin while she sent heart-eyes around the campfire circle. “I just wanted to have a nice week with you all, like old times, minus the fighting monsters and setting the city on fire bullshit.” 

You all snorted. A chill wracked your spine, eyes unfocused on the blaze in front of you, much smaller than the one that engulfed City Hall. You didn’t often let your mind wander that way, hearing the screams of loved ones against the dull roar of those things. Every time you were transported to that moment, reaching out for Mom, Steve’s strong arms around your waist, hauling you back to a military tent. 

Feather-light fingertips stirred you from your daze, soft pads against the gooseflesh prickling your thigh. You blinked to find Steve watching you, worry etched into warmed features. Instinctively, you wrapped your fingers in his, the curl of his knuckles in yours, the steady sweep of his thumb across your wrist. 

Maybe it was fruitless to think you could shrug off a lifetime of history just like that.

“I just wanted you to all come here and get along, and we could just laugh and get drunk and just act like nothing ever changes.” Robin continued her drunken ramble. 

“Robin, everything good over there?” Argyle called from his edge of the circle.

“You tell me, bud,” she sighed, cheek pressed to the peeling edge of her bandage. “Everything good with you? What’s new? How’s life? Tell me something… juicy. A secret.”

Steve’s hand never left yours, circling a steady rhythm against the edge of your arm. Familiar nerve endings prickled. He shifted his weight to be closer, to hide your hands, all warm bicep against yours. If you wanted, you could rest your chin to his shoulder, if you wanted. You felt like a school girl again, stomach flipping like you were in a satin dress, watching out the front window for BMW headlights. 

“I don’t think I have any secrets, my dude. I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”

“Ugh!” Robin threw her hands in the air. “Eddie, tell me a secret.” 

Eddie leaned forward, gaunt featured shadowed devilishly in the firelight. He scrubbed at the goatee on his chin while he thought. He flashed a Cheshire smile before he responded. “I told Henderson you didn’t invite him. He’s pissed.” 

“Can confirm,” Steve voiced from beside you, lifting his glass with a nod. “I also told him.” 

“You guys suck!” Robin groaned, burying her head in her hands. 

Your entire body vibrated with the rumble of Steve’s chuckle, you licked your lips and hid your smile behind your glass. 

“What about you three?” Jonathan called from across the circle. “Any secrets?” There was a mischievous glint in his eye, and you yanked your fingers from beneath Steve’s while Nancy bristled stock straight beside you. Your heart thundered in your ears. 

“I’m moving to France!” Robin cried out, hands in the air, whisky fleeing her glass skyward, luckily in the opposite direction of the fire.

“What?” Nancy breathed from beside you, instantly deflating in relief. 

“It’s true. I’m moving to France, and I’m scared shitless, and I didn’t know how to tell you guys,” and with that, the poor sweet dear began to cry. Sob, actually, loud wails that wracked her tiny frame. Eddie was first to wrap an arm around her, pressing her into the crook of his shoulder and rubbing a strong hand up and down her spine, silver rings glinting in the firelight. 

—

You held Robin’s soft waves while her stomach evacuated itself, and wiped the mascara from the corner of her eyes, off freckle-ridden cheeks. You lay on the pillow beside her, nose-to-nose, breathing in her minty toothpaste while she hiccuped herself to sleep, reassuring her that no one was mad and that you all loved her, and were proud of her for being an amazing change in the world. She’d feel better in the morning. 

Her staggered breathing deepened, and her grip on your hand went limp, and the sounds of busied houseguests silenced over the floorboards, everyone having taken their turn in the bathroom before bed. You slipped from beneath soft covers and tiptoed out of your best friend’s room to gather your own toiletries for a late night shower. 

Just as you reached for the bathroom door, however, you saw the wiggle of a brass handle before the door opened to expose Steve in a burst of steam, towel around his waist, toiletry bag in one hand, gripping the fold of the waistband. He smelled intoxicating, like expensive aftershave and toothpaste, and you watched a drop of water from his hair hit the plane of his chest and glide all the way down a chiseled abdomen to the v of his hipbone.

Your mouth filled with saliva. Sputtering, face burning from the steam, you side-stepped, but he bobbed and weaved the same direction.

“Jesus, sorry.” 

“Excuse me, sorry.” 

Finally, you managed around one another, your socks wetting on the drip of his bare feet against the tiled floor. Your reflection in the fogged mirror betrayed you, pupils blown, bottom lip forced under your top row of teeth. 

“Hey,” Steve muttered.

You squeaked a hum, trying to stare at the darkness just over a freckled shoulder. 

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line tonight,” he offered, but you couldn’t hear past the hum in your ears, couldn’t see past the sturdy grip of his fingers against the door jam. You missed those fingers. Christ, maybe you should have declined that last shot. “I just thought I saw you going back there, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You swallowed, blinked, tried to focus on his words. “Back where?” 

“Home.” 

You met his gaze then, honey eyes dark, eyebrow furrowed to crease in the middle. Home. It’s how you used to refer to him, the only piece of that Godforsaken place you clung to, the only positive memories. ‘Come home’ he’d coaxed, in that swanky hotel room in Louisville, fingertips bruising your triceps, same honey eyes pleading.

Your throat dammed with emotion, and you pulled away from him, glancing back at the look of hurt etched across your own features. You turned on the faucet and squirted toothpaste onto your brush.

“So are we good?” His voice came thick from beside you, too close, a looming stack of meat.

You pressed your toothbrush to your molars and hummed, feigning nonchalance with a shrug.

“Okay…” He seemed unconvinced, posted up against the door jam, fingers gripping his towel to keep it upright. 

You tried to hold back your eye roll, spitting foam into the sink, and thought of Robin craned over the toilet. You cursed internally and turned to the man, gesticulating with the bright green utensil in your hand. “I’m good, Steve, really. Today was just a lot with Nance and now Robin, and I’m just tired.”

“Yeah?” He still had that lost puppy look in his eyes. 

You shrugged and continued to brush. “Who knows,” you sipped dribble before it fell from the corner of your mouth. You turned and spit, rinsing your brush. “I might even let you knead some of the pizza dough tomorrow.” 

He chuckled at that, that sound that hurt somewhere within you. “I’m holding you to that.” 

You snorted. “Goodnight, Steve.” 

And then he reached out, linking his fingers around your wrist, feather light. “Goodnight.”And he was gone, floorboards creaking into the darkness of the hallway.

—

Midway through the third day, when the sunlight glinted off dark waters, and the bob of a boat brought a lull of contentment over the group, the homesickness crept back in.

You curved yourself into the bow, legs outstretched and glistening from your dip in the cool waters, head back against leather seats, basking in the warmth of the sun. Eddie sat at the other side, ankles tangling with your own while he wrapped a rhythm on his sternum with nimble fingers. Jonathan and Argyle splashed and laughed, somewhere just out of sight, too close to the vessel to be seen over the edge, but their cackles made your mouth upturn to a warm smile. 

And just a few yards away, Steve popped up from a swim, head swung back in a gasp, droplets cascading in pools around him. He swiped at his eyes and nose, treading water to stay afloat, all tanned and toned, a grin spread across pink cheeks when he spotted whatever ruckus the other boys were getting up to. His smile hurt. 

All at once, you were transported to the last pool party in Hawkins, the last time you’d all been there, before Argyle went home, and you moved, and everyone went off to college. Steve did his laps, surfacing at the shallow end to push his hair from his face, grin making you weak at the knees. It hurt then, too, knowing you might never see him again. 

He’d taken you for a drive that night, just out of city limits, to an abandoned farm house. You’d broken in, sandals crunching on broken glass, blowing dust from mantelpieces. It was there, you’d let him kiss you, let him touch you. You realized that even if you left Hawkins, you’d always have him. He’d be your anchor, your guiding light, your home.

Eddie toed at your ankle, stirring your attention from the sparkling water, from the boy breast stroking your direction. Your eyes focused again, and you cleared past the emotion stinging in the back of your throat. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

You nodded and shimmied upright, fanning yourself. “I think I’m getting roasted alive.” You pulled a tube of sunscreen from beneath your towel, the plastic soft and smelling of coconut. “Do my back?” 

“With pleasure,” Eddie smirked and took it from you.

You rolled your eyes, but gave him a soft smile while you cleared any hair from your shoulders and turned your back toward him. 

Eddie Munson was a life preserver of sorts, the buoy you needed in the storm. You’d felt guilty to cling to him, at Argyle’s wedding, when your internal storm thrashed at every sign of what-could-have-been. You apologized a dozen times, tangled in sheets and curled hair and tattoos, and Eddie laughed and trailed fingertips to your skin and understood. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He grumbled, calloused hands pressing out the knots between your shoulder blades. You tilted your head to expose your left trap, sucking in a breath when he thumbed at a particularly sore spot. “Sorry.” 

You sighed, watching Steve reemerge from the depths, closer now than before. “Why are we here, Eds?” 

“I think this was a test.” Eddie responded, certainty etched into his graveled tone. “To see if you could be in room together and get along. I think it was the reassurance you both needed that you aren’t monsters.” 

You scoffed at his accusation, but his words rang true, cut a little too deep.

“You were both too proud to call each other, to apologize for being assholes to each other, so I think you both needed this to prove you were adults who could put the past behind you.” He squirted more lotion into his hands and lathered to heat it up before applying it to the backs of your arms, sliding lithe fingers under the straps of your bathing suit. 

“I can’t put it behind me. It’s all I can think about.” You confessed, chewing at a sore spot in your cheek.

“So talk about it,” Eddie offered, catching the back of your neck with one oversized palm, thumbs pressing into the pressure points on your skull. You curved under his touch, closing your eyes to the soothing pressure of his hands. “I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve caught him by the phone.” 

You frowned and glanced back out at the water. Steve was watching you, a crease formed between his own brows. When he caught your gaze, he turned around, dove back in, ear to the water as he stroked away. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Eddie sighed, squeezing your shoulders. You reached up and locked your fingers in his.

“I know.”

—

The dining room table was a graveyard of rustic pizza toppings and marinara in ramekins, empty wine glasses, tossed napkins, a clutter of silver spoons in ice cream bowls, the last bits melting into vanilla soup. You’d all moved onto harder things, pulling whisky bottles to the table to top off glasses, maraschino cherries staining lips cherry red when everyone cheersed to Argyle’s eldest son, Rami.

Eddie had been humming something all day, a tune you couldn’t mess through as the carbohydrates and the alcohol warmed beneath your skin, tingling at your fingertips and thighs and the tips of your canines, which you tongued in laughter, humming the tune alongside him.

“Will you two shut-up?” Robin groaned, tossing her napkin your way. “I’ve had that stuck in my head all fucking day.” 

“Me too,” Nancy sighed, swirling her cherry from the stem. You’d been sneaking drinks of hers for her, hoping no one would catch you, but getting tipsy twice as fast as the rest of them. “What even is it?”

Eddie shrugged, a wide grin etching a dimple into his cheek. He waggled his brows at you.

“Elvis,” Argyle answered, arms swaying like a wild conductor. “The King. Can’t Help Falling in Love. My wedding song, remember?”

Your cheeks warmed with familiarity, but you sunk into Eddie’s arm as he swung it over the back of your chair, giving a little shimmy when he sang the words to you, breath hot on your cheek.

“Never have I ever hooked up at somebody’s wedding!” Robin announced, well proud of herself, as though she invented high school drinking games. You all chorused various groans of protest. “Stop your bellyaching and drink up, bitches!” 

You smiled as Eddie clinked his glass to your own, and as you brought the drink to your lips, all sweet syrup and the kick of alcohol, you noticed Steve watching from across the table, thumb tapping the side of his glass. His gaze flitted from Eddie to you, and when you noticed you watching, he quickly stared at the ice cubes bobbing in his discarded drink.

“Never have I ever been eighty-sixed from a bar,” you sputtered, your mouth moving faster than your brain in the slog of your inebriation. 

Steve looked back up at you then, and a private moment was shared between the two of you as the others squawked various words of protest you couldn’t hear. Steve searched your face for something, you weren’t sure what, maybe some evidence that you meant what you’d said, some understanding of this olive branch, a truce. Then, you watched him shake his head, grin stretching across his pretty, pink lips. “Yes, you have.” 

You blinked, trying to remember what you’d said and how you’d said it, wondering if you’d misunderstood the parameters of the game, or maybe you’d misremembered that moment in Louisville, when things were at their peak, days and unending memories before the end. “What?” The room echoed with the same sentiment, although the rest of your comrades were cackling at your demise.

Steve cleared his throat, choked on an awkward laugh, wrapping his knuckles against the table. “Remember that tiki bar? We were hashing bets all night, and I bet you wouldn’t get up on the table…”

The room erupted in laughter, and chants of “drink, drink, drink!” until you extended your glass in a cheers of surrender and drank. Steve kept his eyes on you, settled back in his chair, but there was still that contemplation playing on his features. You had broken the rules of the agreement. You brought up Louisville, and if you were being honest with yourself, the consequences stirred something within you.

“Okay, my turn,” Eddie leaned forward, running fingers through his shaggy hair. “Never have I ever lived outside of Hawkins.” 

Everyone but Steve booed and drank, and you avoided his gaze as you went for another sip. That was too big a wound to prod right this second. 

Nancy shifted in her seat, sighed, giving into the game. “Never have I ever been in a band.” Robin, Eddie, Jonathan, and Argyle drank, mumbling under their breath about how bands were cool. 

“Never have I ever had sex with a man,” Jonathan chuckled, and no one was surprised when Eddie drank beside you and Nance.

And on and on the game went, targeting one another with hyper-specific memories, until you were all toasted and giggly, the game devolving into other silly little quips and anecdotes. You’d fallen back into Eddie’s embrace, finger spinning the chain of his necklace while you struggled to keep your eyes open, too blissed about because you were home again. 

“Okay, I dare you to tell me about the last girl you slept with,” Robin crossed her arms over her chest, narrowed her gaze at her target.

Jonathan paled. “What? Why?”

“Robin,” Steve bristled from across the table, his tone a warning, protection mode activated. 

You frowned when he met your gaze in warning, before glancing at Nancy. She sat stiff beside you, her own lips pursed and arms crossed, water glass empty in front of her.

“It’s fine, dingus,” Robin shrugged. “I just wanna live vicariously through you. I haven’t had sex in months.” 

Jonathan chuckled, ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“Her name?”

He swirled his ice in his glass, staring straight into it before muttering, “Julia,” and crunching down on anything remaining. 

You allowed your gaze to flit to Nancy, and she didn’t show any physical reaction, eyes watching him, waiting for him to look up at her. 

“Julia,” Robin mused. “Sounds sexy. Italian?”

Jonathan hummed a response. 

“The last person I had sex with was Jonathan.” Nancy’s voice cut through the room like glass, every hum of warmth and intoxication buzzed like live wire. There was a moment of recognition before the table erupted in questions. Jonathan wasn’t looking at Nancy, staring at his hands in his lap, but her gaze was unmoving. “Jonathan is Robbie from Hartford.” She offered as clarification.

“What!?” You, and Robin, and Steve chorused. She’d been seeing Robbie for ages, a regular basis, trips back and forth, something serious. You never expected her to lie to you about it. Secrets kept between lovers, you supposed. 

“Is Nancy Julia?” Eddie asked with an uproarious laugh, but the look of guilt on Jonathan’s face said it all. “Oh, shit.” 

You cursed under your breath, and reached for Nancy’s hand, but she swatted you away, teeth grit.

“I’m pregnant, Jonathan.” 

You buried your face into your hands and sunk further into your chair as the other voices in the room erupted in questions. You felt Nancy push out from beside you and rush from the room. Steve told Robin to sit down, and when you peaked from between your fingers, Jonathan tossed his napkin to the table and rushed after her, feet stomping up the groaning staircase.

“What the fuck just happened?” Robin looked to you for answers, and then to Steve.

“Well that’s one way to harsh a mellow.” Argyle grinned from his side of table, standing to start collecting plates and bowls to take to the kitchen. 

“No kidding,” Eddie grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before he got up to help clear the table. 

Robin stood from her spot too, napkin falling from her lap to the floorboards below. “What the hell else is going to happen on this vacation?” She turned to you with a pointed finger. “You two better not be hiding anything from me. You aren’t sleeping together, are you?” 

“No!” You squeaked the same time Steve repeated her name in that Dad voice, your entire body warmed.

“Who’s the last person you had sex with?” Robin asked, point-blank, arms crossed over chest. “And be honest with me.” 

You sucked in your cheeks to avoid a laugh, the absurdity of the situation bubbling in your chest.

“Eden,” Argyle nodded, matter-of-fact, sliding back in to stack glasses. 

“Thank you, Argyle. I believe you.” Robin scoffed before blowing out the candles dripping wax to the center of the table. She shot you a death glare before stamping up the staircase. 

You shuffled in your seat, uncomfortable as Eddie hummed that stupid song, peeling the candlesticks from the tablecloth and bunching it up. Your mouth tingled, and your fingertips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Eddie glanced down at you and winked, and you swat his knee until he scampered off to the kitchen where Argyle had the water running. 

That’s when Steve said your name, low and slow, and in seconds, your smile was wiped from your face. You watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, and he nodded toward the entry way. “Can I chat with you outside?” 

Your mouth went dry. You swallowed, nodded, pushed out from your chair on wobbly limbs, and followed him outside. 

Steve stood against the porch railing, hands shoved into the pockets of his Levis, soft blue sweater hugging the swell of his bicep, the expanse of his chest. The glow of the moon cast everything in blues and lilacs and silvers. Crickets chirped over the sound of rocking boats and the softest waves. 

With a deep breath, you closed the front door behind yourself and sidled up beside him, basked in the warmth radiating from him. You waited for him to speak.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” He asked softly, after a long moment. “Jonathan and Nance?”

You licked cherry syrup from your lips, stared out at the expanse of trees and twilight. “I think so.” Your heart fluttered in your chest, the buzz blurring your vision and lowing your inhibitions. “Things tend to work out for people as close as them.”

He turned to you then, and you wondered if your eyes mirrored the hope in his. After a long moment, he coughed a laugh, scratched at the back of his neck. “I actually was thinking about our truce.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled, turned to face him completely.

“Yeah,” he let out a shaky breath. “I was wondering if I could… add something to the terms and conditions.” 

The sweet breeze fanned your cheeks, and you closed your eyes, leaned into it, hummed for him to continue. Warmth from your chest bloomed up your throat, to your cheeks. You hoped he’d cup your face, cool your skin with his strong fingers. You hoped he’d pulled you in tight, press his lips to your own, tell you how he feels. 

“Just for this week, while we’re here, and we’re getting along. Could you maybe… not be so cuddled up to Eddie.” 

Your eyes blinked open. 

He ran his hand through his hair, shrugged. “Like I know you guys are friends, and I love that, you know I love that. And I know you slept together at Argyle’s wedding, and that’s cool. Whatever. You’re consenting adults, but it just makes me feel a little uncomfortable to have to like… see and be around or whatever.” He was rambling, and all you could hear was the rushing of blood through your skull. Here, you thought he wanted to kiss you, wanted to forget the truce, wanted to go back to the way things were. 

“We slept together a few times.” You don’t know what possessed you, but it just came spilling out, and the second something heartbroken expression flashed across his features, you wished you could inhale it all back in. Your mouth slammed shut, and you tried to regulate your breathing, your heart rate, the panic at its boiling point. 

Steve took a step back, nodding slowly as his gaze drifted to the toes of his sneakers. “Right, sure. Again, like I’m glad you’re comfortable with each other. I’m just asking for you not to like… rub it in my face.” 

“When did I rub it in your face?” You were embarrassed, mortified even.

Steve shrugged, avoided your gaze. “Just now, at the table with the song, the Elvis song,” he grumbled. “And earlier, on the boat, I saw him giving you a massage.” 

Now, a laugh bubbled out, a bark, dry. “He was applying my sunscreen,” you explained, and suddenly all of your anger from the last four years surfaced, bloated and gruesome, untethered from the depths. “And what gives you the right? I can’t spend my life coddling your comfort, Steve. I came here to spend time with old friends. We’re comfortable around each other. We have love for each other, and I’m not just going to stop acting how I’m going to act because you’re jealous.” 

His nostrils flared at that, and you watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. He grit his teeth, nodded, shrugged. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s just so typical,” you cried out, fists clenched at your side. “You never considered what I want, or what makes me happy. You always had this picture painted of what our life would look like together, of the perfect wife I’d be for you, and I’m sorry but I can’t just do whatever you want, Steve. I have to live my life.” 

And God, the hurt in his eyes made you want to take it all back, but it’d just been growing for years, festering, peeling apart, and now it finally had an outlet, an escape, and you couldn’t hold it back if you tried. So you left. Before any more could spill out, before he had anything to say, you stormed back inside, slamming the door behind you.

“All good, buddy?” Argyle called from the kitchen.

“Fine,” you breathed. Your hands shook, your lungs burned, your jaw ached from clenching. With a deep breath, you stormed up the stairs until you found a bedroom door, and you slammed it open to find Eddie slipping his socked feet out of his jeans. 

“Whoa, you okay?” He asked, standing upright. He was all limbs and inked skin, scraggled hair, pale skin, checkered boxers, the perfect outlet.

You grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him down into a fervent kiss. It was all teeth and surprise, but Eddie sunk into it for a moment, grunting and groaning as his cold hands slid beneath your t-shirt at your waist, and you dug your fingertips into his scalp, relishing in the sounds he made into your mouth. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed when you came up for air, lips finding his jaw, his throat, the lobe of his ear. He whined, guttural, low in his chest, and gripped your hips. “Fuck, no. Stop.” 

“What?” You breathed, biting a mark into the curve of his collarbone. You pushed his boundaries, sliding a hand down the front of his boxers.

He yelped and used the strength of his sinewy arms to push you away, holding you at arm’s length. He cursed again, running his fingers through his hair. “We can’t.” He licked his lips, pupils blown.

“What do you mean?” You sucked your cheeks in, your chin raw from the stubble of his goatee. The inside of your mouth tasted metallic. 

“You know I want to,” he offered, watching you. He reached a hand out to push your hair behind your ear, but you stepped out of his reach. He sighed, crossed his arms over his chest. “I just won’t. Not when Steve’s here.” 

“This isn’t about him,” you scoffed, but your voice wavered, your jaw trembled. 

“Then tell me you don’t want to make him jealous.” Eddie responded, even-toned, and the hurt in his eyes was worse than Steve’s.

You swallowed and shook your head. “Fuck you,” you whispered before you left, the hallway a blur of too many doors and the sounds of your housemates readying themselves for bed. You knocked blindly, knuckles trembling, and Robin greeted you with open arms, ducking you into her chest and clearing your hair from bleary eyes. 

---

A/N: This is part one, be sure to click over to read part two. Thanks, so much, for reading xo xo

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[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[fandomscombine]

No, Not Like This [Part 2]

George Weasley x Reader

BG: Rewatched the New Girl S2x15. You know the one with the ICONIC Nick and Jess 1st  Kiss? Now make it the reader and Geroge!

a/n: This second part follows more on their realization of what tf just happened. As did in S2x16. (so they don’t have scenes together, just their brains going into overdrive thinking they screwed up. don’t worry I’ll bring them back in pt3 hehe but first here’s some chaotic fun!)

This part’s voices of reason are.... Cho and Fred!

WC:1330

Read PART 1

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

George made his way back up to his dorm in a surprising cool calm manner. It was not until late the next morning did what he did sunk in.

What George had thought was a very nice, vivid dream- one he wish he would have the courage to act upon in real life, had actually happened, he panicked.  ‘OH MY GOD! OH MY-YOU KISSED HER! YOU IDIOT!’

Fred, who had just arrived in their shared dorm, toast in hand, laughed at his very dishevelled twin queries. ‘Kissed who?’

‘Y/N. I kissed Y/N’

‘ohhh…’ George’s forwardness made Fred drop his toast. ‘FINALLY!’ He exclaimed, scooting George over.

‘wait What?’

Fred places his palms under his chin. ‘Now tell me how this all went down. Y/n made the first move, didn’t she? Please tell me she did or else I owe Ginny 5 galleons.’

~

While George had a rather peaceful slumber, you on the other hand, did not.

Twisting and turning, mind still stuck on the same sentence. Ranging between the perplexity of ‘George Weasley kissed me?’ to the absolute euphoria of ‘GEROGE WEASLEY KISSED ME!’ .

You touch you lips, gently as if by the feeling of his lips on yours would be washed away if not treated with care.

‘I meant something like that. I didn’t wanna kiss you because of a game. I want to kiss you because you mean something to me’

His parting words echoed in your head.

You Mean Something to Me.

That means he likes you too right? He has to… the boy literally said it…well in the bare minimum implied it. Who in their right mind would deliver a world-shattering kiss to someone they do not fancy?

Though there is one slight detail that could offset this whole theory……

He walked away.

The boy kissed, professed his feelings then exited.

And people say that women are enigmas.

You sighed, you definitely need a fresh pair of eyes here.

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes 6:39am.

‘Great…’ You muttered, the stupid kiss has kept you awake, overthinking for almost 4 hours.

Rolling over, you layered on a hoodie to your pyjamas. ‘Well, she would just have to deal with me this early.’

You silently make your way out, trying your best to not wake any of your roommates.

In your desperation, the fact that the Ravenclaw’s common room location albeit not a secret, it had completely flown pass your head that they had no password but rather a riddle.

‘Please, can I get an easier riddle’ you pleased to the eagle knocker.

‘Which came first, the phoenix, or the flame?’

You huffed, ofcourse it won’t go easy on you.

‘How would I know?!’ you scowled. The door not granting you entrance just further adds to tour irritable state. How many more things had to be confusing? First George and now this!

‘I wasn’t there! You didn’t even give me a time frame, you stupid door! Ouch!’ Recoiling back in pain, you were sent aback whether be it from kicking the door or it getting back at you for mocking it, you weren’t sure.

‘Give me the full picture. Like is the Phoenix dying? Then the phonics came first than came the flame. If not then it would be vice versa, only a pile of ashes is seen from which a phoenix would be born… or reborn.’

Gosh, were you thankful that it’s too early in the morning for someone to see you rant to a door.

‘You know what? Whatever!’ You sighed in defeat; you would just have to hide from George during breakfast.

However, as you turn to leave, the most extraordinary thing happened.

‘OH My---’ You gawked at the now opened door. ‘It WORKED?!?’

‘It was a valid argument to the constrains presented.’ The eagle knocker remarked, ‘Now it you please, enter quickly, you are letting a cold draft in.’

‘Th-Thank you.’

You’ve been into the Ravenclaw Common Room before and the rows of floor to ceiling bookshelves never fail to intimidate you.

Your eyes land upon the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and the surrounding intricate tapestries, the soft glow of the sunrise transforming the circular room into a gallery fit for a palace.

‘Y/n?’ A voice called from the dark staircase.

‘AHH!’ You placed a hand to your chest. ‘CHO! What the heck?!? Don’t scare me like that!’

‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’

‘OH uh… I ranted.’ You told her honestly.

‘You ranted.’ She said in disbelief.

‘Yes. But more on that later, I have more pressing matters.’ You stated, shaking the poor girl. ‘I NEED ADVICE CHO. CODE RED.’

‘CLEARLY.’ Cho sassed, dragging along to the sofa but you stood your ground. ‘y/n?’ Her tone now softer upon seeing your distressed face.

‘George kissed me.’

‘Whaaaaaaaaa?!’

~

You are utterly grateful for Ravenclaws minding their own business, a handful of early risers had gone out for breakfast passing you by. Ravenclaws no doubt has multitude of questions on what a Gryffindor is doing in their common room but had decided to not go down that rabbit hole and are more intrigued in guessing what breakfast specials there’d this last meal before Christmas break.

Though the more straightforward answer could be seen on Cho’s face.

It is too early to be dealing with this, but a friend is a friend. Though that doesn’t mean it stops Cho from internally swearing that her eyes are going to be permanently crossed from keeping up with your pacing about.

‘George kissed me and I didn’t even kissed me back-’ Pacing left, you recounted the previous night. As if sensing Cho call your bullshit, you caved.  ‘okay fine! I kissed him back!’

Plopping face down onto the sofa, voice muffled by the pillow. ‘Is that what you want me to say?’ you demanded.

’I literally haven’t said a word for like over an hour’ uttered Cho matter of factly.

‘Sorry…’ You gaze up at her, pouting your lips as to make her forgive you faster before resuming to your grunts of ‘stupid George Weasley.’

Observing that your rant was over, Cho needed actual details in order to best help you. To help you out of this sticky situation or better yet some….realization, introspection…..That would be up to how honest you are with yourself. ’How was it though, was it…?’

You flop unto your back, mindless playing with your fingers as you recall, ‘It was like I was hit with a bunch of Cheering Charms.’

‘Really?’ Cocking her head, she continued.  ’George was that good? How did he do it then?’

‘He just,’ Okay how were you to describe that magical moment? Wracking your brain but no words could do it justice. ‘He just like, grabbed me.’

‘uh huh’

Cho was unconvinced, so you decided to act it out.

Still lying down, you reach to the ceiling, clenching into fists. ‘and he took me, I mean it was strength, confidence.’

’mm hmm’

You brought your arms close to you, letting your eyes shut as you did so. ‘It was firm, but tender.’

 ’oh damn.’ Cho gasped.

‘oh yeah’ You hate how hot your face has become in a matter of seconds. ‘I saw through space and time for a minute, but that’s not the point.’

‘oh man what are you gonna do?’ Prompted Cho. This was it, the homerun, she thought.

‘I don’t know.’ You truthfully say. There are so many uncertainties, you genuinely don’t know. Wrapping yourself into a ball, you slip of the seat.

Leaning forward, Cho does the last trick on her list. The question that has been implied but left officially unanswered. ‘I mean do you…like George?’

You fake vomit. Your automatic defence system taking over. ‘bah yuck George? Ahhhh’ You tried to play it cool, chuckling.  ‘Nooo!’

You’ve never told a soul! You and George are the best of friends-that’s the story.

Yet Cho’s unnerving brow challenges that narrative.

Halting, you swallowed.

‘Yes.’

~

Part 3, at the burrow will be coming up. So yeah.

It was supposed to be in this but I got carried away and got more inspiration from S2x16 where Nick and Jess had moments of albeit very panicked self-realization on the meaning of the kiss.

Taglist for this fic ‘No, Not like this’:

Thanks also for the support in part 1 and interest in reading more of the fic!🥰

@l0ttadreamz​ @vintagecherrypie106 @remmyswritings @jenniweaslee @iluvharrypotter172 @miaafrances @strawberriesonsummer @stressisakiller

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[izzielizzie]

cwnd 3x1 thoughts

as requested, here are my thoughts on 3x1. spoilers below the cut!

- hold up for a moment is that penn and teller?

- okay well that’s cool i guess you have to suspend reality a little here

- nancy’s still got the bandanas!! they look so cute on her

- here comes college

- ryan spent SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS ON GROCIERIES???

- “i wanted some culinary variety”

- “did anyone get my sorbet?

- “you got five mustards? we don’t even need mustard”

- “did anyone get my sorbet?”

- “i lost my watch” 

- “did anyone get my SoRbEt??”

- where’s bess she’d really add to this chaos

- oh a person knocking on the door? definitely a ghost

- “did you say something about sorbet?”

- as a former waitress i can assure you that is a very standard receipt 

- oh boy oh boy this nick/george tension looks fun

- yes bess!!!

- nick hasn’t responded???

- nooooo please don’t tell me part of nancy leaving has to do with ace :(

- that was a cut picture of amanda though

- oh honey no just tell ace you’ll miss him

- okay as someone who’s applying to college right now i was not expecting to be this emotional

- moving scarecrow that’s cool

- oh boy oh dear oh good lord that is a dead person

- i love that they’re still mentioning tamura and the fact that he and nance are chill now

- connor the coroner’s name cracks me up, especially the way ace says it

- SILENCE DOESN’T MEAN HE’S NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU 

- ace who are we talking about right now?

- also yes!!! ace and george bonding moment!!

- i’m getting chamber of secrets vibes here

- ryan don’t look so excited about a murder. why do you look so excited about a murder?

- awww father daughter time

- THEY HAVE PLATANCHOR CODES GOD BLESS THEM

- ryan stop touching things i thought we went over this last time

- he was watching the hudsons? that’s a little creepy

- NANCY DREW got waitlisted???

- “who’s the suit?” not ace baby so don’t worry about it

- bess’s spanish genuinely made me cringe but also she sounds a lot like me trying to speak spanish

- oh my god bess is a hardcore nace shipper why else would she be asking about amanda?

- ace is about to be way in over his head the bobbsey family is bad news

- also thank god gil is gone

- awww he’s proud of her

- ryan really is a good dad isn’t he?

- also he wrecked his dad’s bugatti what a king

- nancy’s face she’s so done

- i don’t usually add pictures but LOOK AT THAT FACE SHE’S SO CONFUSED

- tbh i’m vibing with temperance 

- also did temperance really wait to reveal her plan until after the rest of the drew crew showed up? that’s kind of her i think we should let her stay

- “did that premature hex also put you in an old lady suit?” ACE IS ICONIC

- “weirder things have happened... i can’t think of any right now”

- i missed these people

- CARSON IS THE NEW ELIGIBLE BACHELOR I AM SCREAMING

- “did i miss the part where i asked you out?” please someone give these writers a raise

- oh no the chocolate boxes

- ace is going to be in so much trouble isn’t he?

- wait are the killers... college frat boys?

- iconic

- this man doesn’t even have a boston accent i feel duped

- also if they were going to have another detective who just didn’t believe nancy then they could have just stuck with tamura

- i get his actor is working on something else but this feels a little repetitive

- i am getting tamura vibes from this guy but... he’s not tamura

- i am fucking CRYING

- NEVER HAVE I LOVED A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL (acceptance?) MORE THAN THIS ONE

- “nancy didn’t bring anything”

- what an iconic kid

- is it bad that my first thought was “if the cider’s in the car it’ll explode when they open it”?

- oh no

- oh the poor baby is crying

- that’s so sad

- ace looks so relieved lol

- oh boy that is definitely a sign from the universe

- wow the town really trusts nancy

- this entire ending is making me cry

- nancy really does belong here

- “your centuries old what on the loose?”

[quillsandtypos]

Ours Stars Collided- Part 2

Summary: As our reader, a musically gifted high school junior, navigates life she realizes not everything goes as planned. She didn't plan on getting close with Julie's band. But not any band, her band is made up of ghosts. But is the afterlife enough to keep her feelings in check towards the main guitarist?

Words: 3.8k

Pairing: luke patterson x reader

Warnings: none

...........................................

“Hey, you ready?” you asked.

“Yeah, just let me grab my stuff,” Julie answered.

She pulled the emoji covered backpack out of her locker and shut it.

“Alright, you ready?” she questioned, as she let you lead the way.

“Yes, and no,” you said, with a nervous smile.

She placed her hand on your shoulder. “You got this, besides, you’re in good hands with Luke,” she reassured you.

“No doubt about that, it’s just a matter of whether I’ll embarrass myself or not.”

She smiled genuinely at you. “You got this, trust me.”

You held the door open for her.

“That car is yours, right?” She pointed across the parking lot.

“Yep, that’s the one.”

You unlocked it and threw your bag in the back, before getting into the drivers side.

“Alright, whatcha wanna listen to?”

Julie paused in thought before hesitantly asking, “You know who Lizzo is right?”

“Oh my god yes! You listen to her too?” you excitedly asked.

“Yes! How could you not listen to Lizzo!”

“Lizzo it is then!”

The first song was Soulmate, followed by Tempo which the two of you practically yelled, and the third song was Like a Girl. When Truth Hurts came on you both gasped and made eye contact through wide eyes.

Soon enough your sound system was blaring through the car and the two of you were belting the lyrics.

“Help you witchya career just a little,” you sang. Then you pointed to Julie to take the next part.

“You supposed to hold me down but you holding me back and that’s the sound of me not calling you back!” Julie was somewhere in between belting and yelling and still managing to sound good.

Then the both of you took the chorus. “Why men great till they gotta be great, don’t text me tell it straight to my face!

You were both animatedly pumping your fists with bright smiles as you finally rolled into her driveway.

Julie opened the studio doors to the boys all sitting there, ready to go. “Well you guys certainly look like you were having fun,” Reggie commented, smiling.

“We did,” you agreed.

“But now it means that break time is over for you guys,” Julie teased them.

Alex had already poofed over to the drums before she said anything.

“Yes ma’am!” Reggie said, getting off the couch.

Luke had a playful smile on his face. “We were the ones working on a new song, so I think that means the break is up for you,” he teased.

You couldn’t help but notice their closeness in that moment, you tried not to; but a small part of you couldn’t help but wish that was you.

Julie just rolled her eyes at him and walked to her piano to put her bag down. And just like that the moment was over.

After you and Julie had settled in and warmed up your voices and practiced a bit with your instruments, you figured you should probably figure out what you were doing.

“So do you guys want me to sing, or play, or listen?” you asked.

They all looked over at you, but Luke was the first to speak. “I can show y/n a couple of the songs with her while you guys run through Bright. Then we can see how she fits into that?” Luke brainstormed.

He held eye contact with you for a few moments before shifting to his other bandmates to gage their reactions.

“Sure! Sounds good to me,” Alex offered.

“Yeah you guys can go sit up in the loft if you want, just so you won’t be distracted by us,” Julie suggested.

“Yeah, sure, come on newbie, let’s see what you got, shall we?” He gestured to the stairs, and allowed you to go first.

“Don’t you already know what I’ve got since you technically already heard me play?” you said, as you ascended the stairs with your guitar.

“Yeah, but that one doesn’t technically count since it wasn’t in here,” he argued.

You paused and turned around, as you desperately tried to fight the smile forming on your lips. “Well technically you shouldn’t break into someone’s room and watch them play without knowing, so,” you trailed off.

“And to think I wanted you to be in the band,” he tutted, with no malice in his voice.

You couldn’t hide the grin on your face now, so you instead choose to plop down on the floor and start on your guitar.

“Alright I’m gonna show you the first couple chords that I have for Bright,” he explained as his fingers effortly slid across his guitar. You watched as he repeated it a couple times before joining him.

He looked up at you as he continued to play. “You’re a fast learner,” he commented.

“Eh, I’m just a visual learner.”

“That must help, I mean with the music school that you and Julie go to. It must be easier to learn things,” he guessed. He continued watching you play.

“Well I mean yes, I go to the same school as Julie but I’m not in the music program,” you admitted.

Luke abruptly stopped playing. “What?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t able to get in.” You were getting somewhat embarrassed.

“Seriously?” he asked in disbelief.

“Seriously,” you confirmed.

“How could they not let you in? I mean you obviously belong there,” he insisted. He sounded slightly upset about the situation.

“There are plenty of people in that school that are much better than me Luke, trust me,” you reassured him.

He leaned forward slightly which forced you to make eye contact with him. He looked quite somber but his eyes seemed to reflect a sort of light; it was as if he was looking through your soul with how intense his gaze was. “I doubt that,” he said.

You nervously swallowed and hoped he didn’t notice. “Thank you,” you uttered quietly, though it did not obstruct the feeling in your voice.

“You’re welcome.” His gaze tore away from yours. You were half relieved and half disappointed.

“So you ready to learn the rest of the song?” He said, breaking the rest of the momentary silence in the loft.

“Whenever you are.”

“Is she show ready?” Julie asked as you walked back down the steps twenty minutes later.

“I think she can manage,” you responded. You sounded more confident than you felt.

“Alright, let’s start Bright from the top. Y/n I want you to sing the chorus, pre-chorus, the second verse and then out to the end of the song, except for the bridge. Luke I’m gonna have you not sing, just for this one. And I will sing the intro, chorus, pre-chorus, the bridge, and verse one. Y/n just sing on this one, we’re not gonna add your guitar yet,” she explained.

You were glad she had a plan, so you at least knew what you were doing. You attempted to shake out your nerves a little bit and Julie gave you a thumbs up from her piano.

She started her intro and of course she sounded amazing. Luckily, you had listened to their song before so you knew when you needed to come in.

“Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump, together I think that we can make it

Come on let’s run”

The guys joined in with their instruments as the two of you reached the chorus. You started to relax through the chorus until you remembered that you would be singing on your own in a couple seconds. Pulling up your previous lesson from Luke in your mind, you tried to remember how high he had you sing it, it wasn’t quite Julie’s level but it was definitely higher than his. You once again made eye contact with Luke who mouthed ‘you got this’ with a determined look on his face. You heard the drums starting to quiet slightly and you knew you were up.

“In times that I doubted myself

I felt like I needed some help

Stuck in my head with nothing left

I feel something around me now

So unclear, lifting me out

I found the ground I’m marching on”

You were once again back with Julie’s voice as she came to stand beside you. You turned to face one another and sang with a harmony you were quite certain you hadn’t heard before. She was practically glowing with happiness and you couldn’t help but reflect that same joy on your own face.

As her individual part finished up again the two of you sung the final parts of the song as you went low on the last bright as she sung her iconic high note. The music faded and you couldn’t help but cheer a little bit.

Julie pulled you into a tight hug. “See I told you you’d be amazing!”

You returned the hug. “Thank you, but you should seriously hear yourself. You are so talented.”

“She’s right y/n you sounded really good,” commented Alex from the back; Reggie nodded in agreement.

“Thanks Alex,” you replied. A small smile was on your face and a certain amount of heat was creeping up to your cheeks from the levels of attention on you.

Luckily, Julie quickly took it off of you. This time she was going to have you play a version of Luke’s part on the guitar but complimented it as he sang; which you were grateful for because it meant you could take a background seat for a minute.

Julie started up on her piano again. This time you were waiting for the chorus to start, and as it did you almost forgot what you were doing when Luke started singing. Sure you had heard him sing this song in full once before. But damn could that boy sing.

It wasn’t until the chorus hit that things started to go wrong for you. You once again couldn’t help but notice their closeness, or the way they looked at each other. You continued on playing but you would be lying if you said it was with the same energy you had minutes ago.

The final chorus hit and your face had fallen all the way from buzzing with joy to mopey. You noticed Reggie creeping up from your right and your spirits were slightly raised as you watched him awkwardly wink at you and walk over to finish the rest of the song with you. For a second he made you forget all about your moment of sadness. As you finished up the last of the chords with each other you ended up back to back towards the end of it, for dramatic effect. Alex laughed as the song ended and he noticed the stance you and Reggie had chosen.

“What?” Reggie grinned.

“That was awesome!” you yelled, high fiving him

“Yeah it was!” he said, mirroring your enthusiasm.

“Ya know I think she’ll fit in quite nicely,” Luke observed. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk and his eyes move slightly, but it was only for a moment.

Julie smiled in a slightly mischievous way. “I think she will too,” Julie agreed, as if you weren’t in the room listening to their conversation.

“You guys know I’m right here right?” you quipped from the other side of the room.

“Yeah I know, but I have a LOT of homework so we gotta wrap this up.”

“I can do that!” You raced over to the couch to get your stuff.

“Gentleman and Julie, it was lovely playing with you and I will see you all tomorrow,” you said as you waved goodbye. They all waved back as you pulled out of her driveway.

It turned out that heavy homework wednesdays were becoming a thing for Julie because in the following week she was told she wasn’t allowed to have band practice until her homework was done. She said something about her dad not being too happy about her staying up till twelve doing it. Though Julie didn’t sound so happy about it either, for obvious reasons; but she did of course want to have band practice, so she promised all of you she would be done as quick as possible. But she still needed a ride home, and Flynn’s house was on the way to your house, so you offered to drive her too.

Flynn called shotgun which Julie groaned about, but she took the back. You turned on Lizzo before putting the park in reverse to get out of the parking lot and driving off.

“So how is your new spot in the phantoms going?” Flynn asked.

“I would say pretty good, but I’ll let Julie answer that one.”

“She’s doing really well, her and Luke have really figured out how to compliment one another on the guitars, and she gets along great with all of them,” Julie responded.

“Well I think they might, maybe, just maybe, be keeping you,” Flynn told you, sarcastically.

“Thank god they are, I don’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t," you worried aloud.

“Probably would’ve still thought you were insane,” Flynn suggested with a shrug.

“Harsh! But, yeah, probably,” you admitted, laughing a little bit, and the other two joined you.

“At least now I can get people off my back about me and Luke,” Julie spoke. Flynn pointed at her in acknowledgement.

Now that peaked your interest. “What?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

Julie casually waved you off. “Oh just people thinking Luke and I are together.”

You thought you were going to jump up and down from excitement, “Wait, you guys aren’t together?” You hoped you didn’t sound as excited as you felt.

Julie had a borderline concerned look on her face. “Ohhhhh definitely not, we are just friends, and neither of us want to be anything more. I mean don’t get me wrong, I see the appeal, but he’s not my type,” she explained.

“Yeah cause her type is Nick,” Flynn sang, snapping her fingers.

Suddenly a lightbulb clicked. “Was that the guy you were talking to by your locker the day Luke saw me?”

Julie facepalmed in embarrassment. “Yes.”

“See she’s not even denying it,” Flynn pointed out.

“That’s true,” you agreed, looking through your rear mirror at your bandmate.

Flynn's face suddenly turned from mischievous evil to somehow even more evil. “Though I mean we could instead talk about how you obviously think Luke is cute.”

Now that took you by surprise. “I do not!” you insisted.

Flynn’s eyes got slightly larger with her raised eyebrows and she pursed her lips. “Okay so we’re lying now?” she teased.

Julie laughed before slamming her hand over her mouth. “Flynn stop, if she says she doesn’t like him then she doesn’t.”

“Thank you Julie.” You specifically enunciated Julie and Flynn stuck her tongue out at you. And just as she did you turned onto Julie’s road.

You waved goodbye to Julie, wishing her luck with her homework. And then went to drop Flynn off before arriving home yourself.

You rummaged through the fridge to find something and you managed to settle on an orange before also finding hummus and pretzels.

You sat down in your empty kitchen and took a bite of a hummus covered pretzel, and realize you forgot to get water. You turned around to come face to face with Luke…. again.

“HOLY SHIT!” you yelled. It wasn’t your first time but it didn’t mean it wasn’t just as scary.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, not looking very sorry at all.

“You have got to stop doing that.” You walked past him and by that you mean you accidentally walked through him. You turned back to him for a moment to see if he was okay but he seemed to be looking at you curiously so you assumed he was fine.

“No promises, remember? It’s kinda a ghost thing,” he reminded you as he followed you around your kitchen.

“Okay well what do you and your ghost thing want?” you asked, immediately regretting your choice of words. You could practically feel his smirk from behind you.

“Did you just-” he started but you cut him off.

“Nope, no, no I didn’t. What do you want Luke?” You were trying to pivot and luckily, he took the bait.

“Well, can you come to the studio?” he asked.

“Yes, I was already going to be coming there later.” You were getting slightly confused.

“No, I mean like now,” Luke explained.

“Why?” you asked, finally sitting back down with your water.

“We’re bored,” he confessed, slouching on your table.

“You came here to tell me you’re bored?” you giggled.

“Well I guess technically, yes, so can you come?” he impatiently asked. He just looked restless. Though you supposed being in a garage for a large majority of your day and only having two other people to talk to would do that to a person, or ghost in this case. But unfortunately, you still couldn’t come.

“Sorry Luke, I already told my parents I would be leaving later tonight, and I don’t wanna have to switch plans on them,” you apologized.

“Oh come on, your parents aren’t even home,” he pointed out.

“I’m well aware, but I try to keep my promises to them,” you defended. Though he looked so goddamn cute at the moment you could feel your will power breaking.

“It’ll be fun!” he promised. He must’ve known that his smile could get to you because when you looked at him you swore it had grown three sizes.

“Tempting, but I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Please?” he asked. You looked him in the eyes, which was a big mistake because he was giving you a puppy face. I mean it’s not like you already thought he was cute, but this? This was on a whole nother level. His lips were in a slight pout as his head was tilted doward just a smidge, and his blue eyes mocked sadness, in a way that was just unbearable.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you agreed, you tried to sound annoyed but it didn’t work in the slightest.

“Yes!” he shouted.

“Just let me grab my keys, wait, can you even go in a car?” Could he even get in the car? Could he get in the car, and then his physical state or lack thereof, could suddenly go away and he wouldn’t be sitting in the car anymore? But Luke’s voice interrupted your hypotheticals.

“How about I just meet you there?” Luke suggested.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

Ten minutes later you had pulled up to Julie’s house and entered the studio. “Oh hey Reggie,” you greeted, taking a seat on the couch.

“Oh hi y/n! Are you here to practice with us, or? Not that I mind you being here,” he quickly stammered out.

“It’s fine, you’re okay Reggie, I know I’m not usually here unless it’s for practice. But yeah, I’m just here to hang out.”

“Oh, cool!”

“So where’s everybody else?” you asked.

“Well I think Alex is with Willie and I’m actually not sure where Luke is,” he answered.

“I wonder wh-” you started, but you had a feeling that someone had landed beside you.

Which, of course Luke had, and practically right on time too.

“Sorry, I was just checking on Julie and seeing how much homework she has,” Luke explained.

“How’s it looking?” you asked.

“Not so great, she still has a lot left to go,” Luke admitted.

You shrugged. “Well I’ve got nowhere to be.”

And for the next two hours or so the three of you sat there and talked about all sorts of things, from mundane things, to really deep things, to things they missed the most about being alive. Which mostly consisted of food, not that you blamed them.

Soon enough Luke went to go check up on Julie again.

“Are you cold?” Reggie asked you.

“No,” you lied.

“Dude, I can see you, you’re literally shivering.”

“Yeah, I forgot to grab a jacket before I left my house,” you admitted.

“Here-” he threw a jacket at you, “wear this one, it’s nice and warm.”

“Reggie you really don’t have to-” you started, but he insisted; and you were pretty cold so you gave in.

In a couple of minutes Luke returned to the same spot.

“How’s it looking now?” you asked.

“I don’t think she’s gonna,” Luke suddenly stopped mid sentence to glance over at you, “nice jacket y/n.” For whatever reason, he had a very interesting look on his face, to say the least.

“Thanks, Reggie lent it to me.”

“Oh is that so?” he asked, now turning to look at Reggie, who looked slightly frightened.

“Um, yes?” you said, though it was more of a question.

Luke turned to you, “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you responded.

“You know that’s my jacket right?” he asked.

Now you also turned to stare down Reggie, “What was your intent with this-”

“Wait what’s his full first name?” you asked Luke in a whisper.

“Reginald,” he whispered back.

“What was your intent with this Reginald?” you asked.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Reggie said, looking up at the ceiling.

Luke took one step towards him and Reggie yelped before poofing out.

“Why does he keep offering up your stuff?” you laughed.

He scoffed, “I wish I knew.” It seemed like he did know but you weren’t going to press him on it.

“Oh, here, you can have your jacket back now.” You awkwardly handed it over to him.

“Oh, thanks. You did look good in it though, by the way,” he casually mentioned.

You were pretty sure your brain just shut down for a couple seconds. “What?” you asked, you were still working to catch up with what just happened.

“I said, you looked good in it,” he repeated, as his voice was becoming soft and slightly deeper.

“Thanks,” you managed to mumble out. But meanwhile you thought your face was on fire.

“Oh also you might wanna head home, Julie said she’s not gonna be able to practice tonight,” he mentioned.

“I probably should, but hey, I’ll see you tomorrow!” you yelled as you left the studio.

“See ya!” he yelled and waved.

By the time you got home there was a note on the kitchen table, ‘Don’t worry I cleared it with Luke this time -signed Reggie’ and next to the note sat the jacket. You laughed quietly to yourself before taking the note and the jacket upstairs with you.

[alittlebitgoofy]

the only proof i need is you (taywhora)

it is finally done, i've been wokring on this since the ukd tour started but we don't need to talk about that, it's kind of a sequel to my older canon compliant fics but can be read sepereatly. love my dear mina for always betaing shit I send them, an actual icon

title from proof by Paramore bc that song got stuck in my head as I was tryna get a title, enjoy :)) ao3 link

Tayce relished in the energy she got from this, after so long away from gigs the euphoria wasn’t lost on her. They were lucky, finally able to experience the dizzying highs of such public notoriety.

The heat didn’t help things— of course, they’d get stuck in a heatwave during a cross country tour. The amount of sweat, makeup running by the end of the show, outfits sticking in places they shouldn’t. It was a nightmare, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything

Her attention was pulled back to reality by the laughter of her friends, using silly Instagram filters on each other to amuse them. They stumbled towards her in a flurry of giggles, knocking into her arms and almost sending her falling over into the crowd. A’whora raised her phone to Tayce, erupting into laughter at the way the screen contorted her face into something unrecognisable.

---

“Are you done with those?” Tayce asked, gesturing to A’whora’s fries while his attention was laser focused on his phone.

Before he could answer, Tayce plucked a chip anyway, putting it in his mouth much to A’whora’s chagrin. He huffed, eyes narrowing at such an act of treason.

“You hound!” He swatted at Tayce’s arm as he reached for another. “What happened to yours?”

Tayce lent in further, smiling fiendishly and chewing obnoxiously loud. “Ate them, like, ten minutes ago. You’ve been staring at your phone for the past hour and they’re gonna go cold, missy.”

“I’m eating at my own pace!”

“You eat slower than Lawrence picks up choreo.” Tayce grinned, his heart warming at the way his friend pouted, arms crossed — he was too cute when he got all riled up.

“Don’t involve me in your lovers' spats!” Lawrence hissed from across the table, laughing at the way Tayce’s eyes narrowed. He knew Lawrence was only having one of those stupid more-than-friends jokes, but any implications of their relationship being anything other than professional made the room seem a little too tense for his liking.

“She’s right, you two argue like an old married couple.” Bimini chimed in, resting their head on their hands like this was an everyday event.

“This isn’t an argument, a crime has been committed and you two are bystanders letting such an act go unpunished!”

“It’s a fucking chip.”

A’whora glared at Lawrence for such a comment. It was his chip. Tayce had his own, he could deal with himself. He had a bad habit of eating things that weren’t his and flirting his way out of any repercussions. He’d buy A’whora more of something most of the time but the annoyance was justified after a year of having his food stolen.

Bimini let out an exasperated laugh, the idiocy of the pair never failing to be both amusing and tiring. They bickered like children sometimes but there was a layer of deep connection under it, two people so strong in their unity that nothing could break them apart.

Except a chip apparently.

They slid their own half eaten pack over, not likely to eat the rest anyway. It would be worth the quiet of Tayce settling down with more food for a little while. They missed the peace of them all being passed out from a long night’s show.

“Tayce, you can have the rest of mine, just leave her alone.”

“Let the whore have her own food, you hound.” Lawrence huffed, Tayce snickering at the moniker. It made him raise an eyebrow, nodding before turning his attention back to his fries.

It was hilarious seeing him get so riled up but there was a small pang in Tayce’s chest, he genuinely was a bit upset about having his food taken, it was a constant that always riled him up no matter how much Tayce replaced. He slid a few fries over, secretly enjoying the bright smile that took over A’whora’s face, giving a thankful nod.

---

Tayce felt the repetitive movement of the car slowly lull him to sleep, they were all too tired to do much of anything, passing out in the back of the tour bus in full drag, not even the energy to take it off before going to their hotels. A’whora was next to him, head leant against his shoulder. He looked so peaceful, making it hard to believe he’d been performing in the horrid heatwave an hour ago.

Bimini was on the other side of them, by the window. They’d curled in on themself, contorted in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. She’d have to laugh when they complained of back pain the next morning. Lawrence was beside them, stretched across the seat between him and bimini. It was strange to see everyone so low energy, though Tayce himself felt it. So many shows in such quick succession, his body wasn’t ready no matter how much preparation went into it.

A bump in the road jolted him back to attention, though the rest of them were long gone from consciousness. At least he thought. His attention turned back to A’whora, taking in all of his features without the prying eyes of anyone. Something about the sight of him, head reclined on Tayce’s shoulder looking like it was the most comfortable thing in the world, it made his heart warm.

Those feelings still went unsaid, he wasn’t ready for a lot of things, A’whora knew that. He knew with time he would open up, it just took patience and love.

---

Tayce’s energy was electric, his constant bouncing and talking leaving the others in the tour bus in a similar state.

Long drives were boring, he had to make it more interesting somehow. A’whora and Lawrence exchanged a look as Tayce set up an Instagram live, mentally preparing for the chaos that would surely follow.

Lawrence was half amused and half mortified at the act that followed, A’whora cheekily shaking her ass on the camera, much to the amusement of the viewers, Tayce slapping it as if it was no big deal. He’d probably come to regret that later but the moment buzzed with the excitement for their next show, the tour in general, and the euphoria of touring with some of his best friends.

The rowdy energy kept up for the rest of the day, Tayce rarely lost his buzz as A’whora had come to learn, it was a blessing until it was late and she was ready to go out when all he could do was pass out in the hotel room.

They had to share this time due to availability, acting like it was a minor inconvenience when it was all they wanted now, to feel the comfort of someone going through the same grueling thing as you, waking up next to Tayce was euphoric. Something about him took the best, happiest feelings out of A’whora and left him a gooey mess of love and laughs.

Though Lawrence was catching on, or so Tayce claimed he thought, confiding in A’whora knowing even he could keep this secret. He knew better than to say something like that, Tayce’s vulnerability was difficult to keep, any sign of trouble and he’d close right back up for a long time to come.

“Oh, there are the lovers.” He boldly prodded the pair, erupting into a laugh as Tayce scowled. The atmosphere was too tense for 9 am, the previous night out leaving him in a precarious state of trying to balance a normal act and a vicious headache that only a kiss from A’whora had managed to vanquish.

“Well what crawled up your ass and died?” He followed up, Tayce’s glare frosting over in a way that truly worried A’whora. He was not happy and he didn’t want to sit in a car all day full of tension. Where was Bimini in this mess?

“It’s too early for this shit, settle down.”

His voice seemed to reason more with Tayce as he got into the car, quickly pulling a’whora beside him. Bimini came out a while later, apologising for the wait. None of them ever seemed to be on time, it was almost as if they took it in turns this tour.

Their presence brought some much needed peace as Tayce started perking up through the journey, still oddly quiet but much better than wanting to bite Lawrence’s head off this morning.

---

“A’whora! God, hurry up!” A shout came from Bimini as they prodded her to change faster. Damn costumes, never easy to get off in a hurry.

Tayce watched it with muffled laughter, the misfortune not enough to need intervention but much too amusing to leave alone.

Lawrence shared in her amusement, though had no problem commenting on her time wasting.

“I thought I was the slow one, the whore’s got us all beat.” She commented, the room erupting in laughter much to A’whora’s annoyance.

“Stupid fucking outfit! Tayce?” The complaint was followed by a pleading whine, her eyes starting to tear up with sheer frustration.

Tayce obliged, walking over and unzipping the outfit to let A’whora out, grabbing her new one and sliding it up her body, slowly as to allow her to get in without rushing.

A’whora felt herself almost quiver, the feeling of Tayce’s hands running down her back taking her back to—

Nope. She couldn’t do this, not during a show. Keeping this secret would eat her alive by the time they got finished with this tour but she could enjoy the little moments they had, as inconspicuous as possible.

“Talk about sexual tension.”

“Oh fuck off Lawrence.” Tayce shot back. Before any more words could be exchanged they were rushed back on stage for a group number.

Thank god for Tayce.

—-

Tayce let himself fall onto the bed with a loud groan. It was incredible being able to perform for huge crowds and meet their fans but this was a new kind of exhaustion. He felt the need to hibernate for the next week. Beside him, A’whora flopped down, a similar sigh leaving his lips.

“I can’t wait to get home, I’ve got a face mask and a few packs of percy pigs waiting for me.”

“Is that all you ever think about? You better share, missy.” Tayce teased, a tired grin spreading across his face, elating his boyfriend who rolled over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Only if you ask politely, or maybe you do something nice for me.” The last part came out in a purr, their faces so close Tayce swore A’whora could feel the heat rising off his face at the insinuation.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t play along, flirting and calling his bluffs. But this was more intimate, the two of them, together. No one else, no need to worry about keeping it down so their roommates wouldn’t find out. It was a flash of a possible future. The pair of them working, joking, and loving together.

It dawned on him then, cuddled together without a care in the world after the most exhausting two weeks of his life. This was what he wanted, he didn’t care what other people thought. Something melted away without him realising, leaving his heart bare and ready for the taking though A’whora always let him set the pace.

“I love you, George.”

He froze. Did he hear that right? Did Tayce just say he loved him? Tayce, the one who could never let himself be vulnerable, much less admit his deepest feelings.

“I love you too.” He choked out, sounding more shocked than he knew possible. Tayce couldn’t help but laugh, he wasn’t expecting it but that reaction was nothing less than adorable. He pulled him into a soft kiss, enjoying their closeness before they both drifted off, hardly ready for the travel and fatigue of tomorrow but safe and cosy in the presence of each other.

He could get used to this.

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 1/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

Oh my god. I completely forgot there was also 2 haute couture weeks. I FEEL SO OVERWHELMED. Here I was getting all geared up for the F/W 2020 shows and suddenly it’s Jean Paul Gaultier’s last show and everybody’s (predictably) buzzing about the Jacquemus collection. I can’t keep up. But Haute Couture week is a lot less intense than the RTW shows so I suppose I should be enjoying this relative peace whilst I can. 

I remember my last post about Haute Couture week opened with me defending Maria Grazia from the wrath of the internet; if Jacquemus is social media’s Lord and Saviour, this woman is the Antichrist. She’s Michael Langdon minus the dramatic flair. But the thing is, I genuinely really liked the Dior collection last time. Maybe because I was newer to the discipline of scouring Vogue Runway, but the lack of originality didn’t bother me; it was still something I’d die to wear, gothic yet delicate and relevant for 2019. 

That being said, this time round, I have to open by doing the exact opposite and concurring: this time round, Dior was in fact, utter shit.

I feel mean saying it but...really? These were the slightly more salvageable outfits and my favourite of the bunch, and to be honest they don’t really capture the full extent of how outdated this collection was to me. I know that the concept behind the show was this idea of the divine feminine but Greek Goddess has been done SO many times. If you’re gonna go down that route, you have to bring something new, elevate it in some way. It can’t be THIS generic.

I can’t believe that in 2020 we’re really seeing plaited hairbands. The individual dresses are basic, but not so much the problem as the styling; they look like outfits I would’ve put together back in 2012. That’s not an exaggeration. I think even 2013 me would appreciate that you need to make things a little twisty. 

The colour scheme is pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I like the cowl necks-the white dresses are the highlights. I think the concept of this collection was conceived with all the best intentions. But as a designer you need to take risks and I don’t see one single risk here; there isn’t anything that wouldn’t already be sold in your local H&M. Dior is such an established brand, Maria Grazia has room to do whatever she wants. And yet it just comes across like she’s out of ideas. 

You’ve got to look at a designer like Ulyana Sergeenko:

When I say elevated (but still in the vein of wearable), I mean something like this. To be completely honest, I hadn’t heard of Ulyana Sergeenko until I saw shots of this show on Twitter. But what a perfect mix of kitsch and glamour. The influences are clear: Priscilla Presley, Barbie, Jackie O, Valley of the Dolls, the rich stay-at-home wife of the 60s, the Alessandra Rich/Scream Queens-esque sorority girl, Paris fucking Hilton. It’s exaggerated and it’s tongue in cheek with total grounds to call it trashy-there’s a corset resembling a Benjamin Franklin, ffs-but it’s all done with a wink and a nudge. And in all honesty, I just think it’s beautiful. Can you imagine Frances O’Sullivan (@Beautyspock on IG) in one of these looks? It would be worthy of the Rose McGowan cultural reset meme ten times over.

Everything is feline, from the very literal cat silhouettes and cat headed boa, to the makeup and the hair clips. It reminds me of the last RTW Ralph and Russo show but with even more attention to detail. And look at the STAGE. If this collection were a song, it’d be Disco Tits by Tove Lo. And no, I’m not just saying that because one of the dresses actually does feature a (cat shaped) disco tit. Like these are the clothes I dreamed of putting my Bratz dolls, and for null I’m sure, myself in. Absolute perfection. Plus, I’ve loved Coco Rocha since she was on The Face with Naomi Campbell; she is, after all, to thank for the iconic “check your lipstick before you come for me” line. Girl is really the martyr for all purple lipstick lovers, cut down in her prime by a pissed-off Naomi. 

Onto Alexandre Vauthier, which I also really liked. An interesting yet effortless blend of the old and the new, the masculine and the feminine, if I could sum this collection up in one word, it would be cool. I know, it’s not the most descriptive, but it pretty much sums up how I feel; I’m not AS gassed about it as I am about Ulyana Sergeenko or this season’s Elie Saab (wait for it), but it’s a fresh offering, even if the styles aren’t the most groundbreaking. Stand outs for me are the almost petticoat like, debutante dresses which have Elle Fanning’s name written all over them.

I was hard pressed to find favourites in the Armani Privé collection if I’m honest. I’m not saying it was awful, all I know is that it just isn’t my style. It’s all a bit TOO tailored for my liking, and kinda reminds me of the Zara pantsuits my Spanish teacher used to wear. In other words, I find it to be a bit dowdy. On a positive note, the colours, fabrics, and beading are all stunning, so I see that a lot of craftsmanship clearly went into it; I think my biggest issue is the styling and the shapes (or lack of) on show. I’m very much getting a 20s, flapper vibe and whilst that’s an era that fascinates me and that I appreciate was cutting-edge at the time, I’ve yet to see it be bought into the 21st century in a way that doesn’t look stiff or costume-y. 

Then there’s Azzaro. At the complete opposite end of the scale to Armani, it doesn’t look expensive, which I’m sure isn’t something any designer previewing their collection at haute couture week is striving for. BUT that being said, I’d be much more likely to wear something from this collection than I would from Armani Privé. I mean, I have no shot at ever wearing either but ya get me. 

Whilst I’m sure it or something similar has been done before, the mesh diamanté dress is exquisite and I’m a huge fan of the stacked gem chokers and belts. The whole collection looks like something a London socialite who parties by night but (deep breath in) plays in a shitty band so fancies herself a bit of a rockstar by day would wear (exhale) and as much as that doesn’t sound like a compliment, I mean it as one. I’m talking about the kind of person you’d see smoking outside a bar and think “I wish I was them but I am potato lol”. I mean, as far as faux fur and fedoras are concerned, I’m gonna find it hard to completely slate a collection so this is pretty up my alley.

Chanel was a huge step up from their last RTW collection, imo, and probably on par with their last haute couture offering. It’s that same blend of preppy Chanel detailing (i.e the exaggerated collars, the checks and the lace) and practicality, only even more austere this time round.

It’s funny because when I looked back on original notes on this collection, before I’d even done any research into the context, I saw that one of the things I’d written was “giving me Victorian orphanage madame” as well as “something something Amish” and I wasn’t THAT far off base. The collection is, after all, supposed to be a tribute to the nuns who raised Coco Chanel at the beginning of the century in an Abbey-cum-orphanage. This makes me really happy; I know not everyone’s a fan of Virginie Viard’s nods back to the past and the brand’s origins but as a history nerd, I definitely am. 

There’s also definitely a lot of things that can be translated into high street trends here: the combination of decorative white socks and black shoes is something I’ve seen making a comeback already, tulle is always a winner (I actually don’t mind it as an overlay, I think it’s pretty, sue me) and I have no doubt we’ll be seeing these dramatic collars creeping back onto tops and jumpers throughout the year. It’s been a while since they were a thing anyway and we all know how cyclical fashion is.

Another high note for Elie Saab this haute couture season; if I was an expressive person, I probably would’ve audibly gasped as I looked through this collection. It is SO FUCKING MAGNIFICENT. The colour scheme, the baroque prints, the floral sequinned embroidery, these are Cinderella style ballgowns taken to the next level. Elie Saab really is the definition of opulence and I’m not at all mad about it. Please, somebody put Lana Del Rey in one of these, PLEASE. Remind her how much of a princess she is and get her out of those “soccer mom” looks.

I’m so stuck between this collection and Ulyana Sergeenko as my favourite, and the latter might just pip the other to the post, purely because of the staging and extravagance of the presentation itself. 

Georges Hobeika was predictably phenomenal. Like, I’m not going to lie, I am easily won over by some sequins and tulle, I’ve never claimed any different, and if you can expect that from anyone, it’s this guy (ignore that phrasing making me sound like his proud mother). The colour scheme is very spring appropriate and so is the 3D flower detailing, and if there’s anything good to take from Ascot and English royal weddings, Georges Hobeika knows it’s the hats.

It was another strong year for Givenchy too:

Though Claire Waight Keller is also fond of the extravagant details along the lines of feather and tulle, it’s always done in a more organic way; the details are always more reminiscent of nature, something created by accident, than they are suggestive of painstaking attention to detail, the image of someone hunched over a dress beading for hours on end à la Georges Hobeika or Elie Saab. That is not a bad thing at all; if anything, it makes Givenchy more interesting to study and gives you more to think about. Sometimes a dress takes you a bit longer to fully appreciate, but I’d say that only lends to its memorability. This year’s willowy, billowing, and at times coral-esque structures  remind me of something I can see being worn down an Iris Van Herpen runway, set apart by that delicate Givenchy finesse. And side not: I know this post is to talk about the clothes, not the models, but I got super excited over seeing Sora Choi and Adut Akech walk too. 

Guo Pei is always fun to look at. I mean, this collection is giving me half Matryoshka dolls, half It’s A Small World Christmas edition and I can’t hate on that. 

And then there’s Iris Van Herpen, who knocked it out of the park once again. At this point, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Every outfit looks like something that could be exhibited in the Tate Modern (I know, it’s a basic opinion, but it’s true: TATE MODERN IS THE BEST MUSEUM IN LONDON), or honestly, the Design Museum, just for the genius that must go into the way these dresses move. Honestly, if I can see a goddess wearing anything, it’s more one of these looks than anything in the Dior collection. Like wife of Poseidon or something; I know it’s not very feminist of me to not know the Greek Goddess of the sea’s name but I only know who Poseidon is because I was a Percy Jackson fan back in the day so let me live.

It’s not like the whole under-the-sea theme is particularly new, Zimmerman did something similar last RTW (I think? Correct me if I’m wrong), but these constructions could’ve grown out of the sea bed themselves, which is more of an original take than “oo, blue and white and frothy hemlines!”. Additionally, we’ve got these dresses with the overlapping almost plaited fabric that are-we’re sticking with the goddess references here-fit for Persephone ruling over hell. As for the Grudge-looking dress (fourth down, far left), I could be reaching, but is anyone else seeing that as a nod to the oil spills polluting our oceans? Because that would just add yet another layer to this collection. 

Regardless, it’s all impeccable and I’m in love. Iris Van Herpen as a MET Gala theme. Make it happen.

Anyway, to end on a high note, that’s it for this post! 

Sorry it’s such a sudden cut-off but Jean Paul Gaultier was due to be my second to last to review and due to it being the final show, there’s an onslaught of photos that would not fit with what’s already in this post. Plus, I’d rather start a post with Jacquemus then end it as I feel like there’s a lot of hype around his collections online right now so 1). it’s clickbait (for what, I do not know, as I’m not exactly making any money off this blog, just losing my sanity as it transpires when Tumblr accidentally terminated it earlier today and I had a minor breakdown) and 2). this Steve Buscemi meme is the most accurate representation of only 21 year old me to grace the internet:

I will aim to post part 2/2 in the next week, including JPG, as I just mentioned, the Jacquemus co-ed show, Margiela, Valentino and more, and as always, thank you for anyone who read until the end! You are an angel:-)

Lauren x

[princess-of-the-worlds]

tldr: As of this October, it has officially been one year since I first watched Torchwood and started reading fics. Although I didn’t start writing my own fics until March 2020, I have written...like a lot of fics in the past seven months. But I wanted to celebrate my favorite fics by other people. So here is Part 1 of probably several eventual fic rec posts. These are what I consider fandom staples.

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13 

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

(janto & others | complete | mature | 96K)

Nik: I legitimately cannot explain why I love this fic so much other than the fact it is so great! It was one of the first fics I read, and I still adore it. It follows canon so well while making you feel very range of the emotion spectrum. The author’s take on Ianto is so complexly-written but still feels true to the canonical Ianto. Literally one of the first fics I’d rec to anyone new to fandom. A must read.

only fools fall by transjackianto

“Oh my god,” he gasps out when his laughter has died down to softer chuckles, “I am so glad I stuck around to hear that.  Thank you Jack, I needed to laugh today. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he pushes back from the table for the third time but Jack stops him again with a hand over his own. It is a softer touch than before and that unnerves Ianto more than anything.

He looks up, terrified he’s going to see some kind of earnest emotion on Jack’s face.  When he finds Jack looking instead like he swallowed a handful of pins he relaxes. He’s not sure he could handle finding out Jack had some kind of ridiculous unrequited crush on him.

“I know,” Jack groans, dropping Ianto’s hand and letting his head thunk against where his arms are crossed on the table, “I want to punch myself just for saying it, but I mean it Ianto. I need you to be my boyfriend.”

-

Aka, Ianto just wants to make it through his summer as a newly single sixth form graduate and eagerly await the end when his ex comes back from her summer trip and they can reunite.

His ex-friend Jack Harkness throws a wrench into the works.

(janto, lisaianto, & others | complete | mature | 182K)

Nik: Okay, so I’m a tiny bit biased with this one considering that the author is my friend whom I adore and also one of my favorite people in this fandom. And I...also betaed this entire fic. But take it from me! It’s so, so well-written and the shift from enemies to lover is so perfect. There is angst, oh so much angst, but it is worth it. Plus, it’s incredibly hot! And I know the author has eventual plans for a sequel, although no promises when it’s coming. Another must read!

Halfway Back by Sholio (@sholiofic)

Team Torchwood run a sanctuary for magical creatures, and this time they've got a basilisk on their hands.

(gen | complete | teen | 13K)

Nik: Okay, so literally anything by Sholio is perfect. They have an incredible grasp of the team dynamic that still blows my mind, and their fics have topnotch Owen-Ianto interactions. But I chose this fic because the premise felt like almost nothing I’d read in this fandom before. Plus, there is still the requisite amount of Owen angst in this. (Also check out The Cartography of Feeling, which is another personal favorite.)

Conversational Japanese, Plus Frogs by james

Tosh and Ianto have been taken prisoner. They cope.

(janto | complete | teen | 6K)

Nik: One of the older, shorter recs on this list but still a classic. A fascinating in-depth character study of Ianto and Tosh and their friendship in confined quarters that also explores the trauma that follows some of Torchwood’s misadventures. I don’t think I can say much else besides urging you to read it!

Sharkreef (Or, Why Torchwood Was Set in Cardiff and Not the Bermuda Triangle) by queenfanfiction

There is the story of a team who tried to save Earth from aliens. This is not that story.

(janto & many, many others | complete | teen | 2K)

Nik: Look, I know that some will actually despise that I included this rec, but this fic is ICONIC. It’s cracky, yes. Cracky crack. Very crack. But it’s also legitimately one of the strangest/whackiest/what-the-fuck fics I’ve ever read. It always startles a genuine laugh out of me. It has all of our favorite tropes...coupled with some lobsters. (Sidenote: This reminds me of John Mulaney/SNL’s Diner Lobster sketch, which I also encourage you to watch.)

Insignificant Other by parachutewoman 

Ianto is tasked with telling Rhys that his newly wedded wife has ditched him to go to London with Jack on a “very important mission”. Refusing to have his day ruined, Rhys drags Ianto along to the Six Nations final and the two ‘other halves’ try to make sense of their place in the world and their partners’ lives.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | mature | 6K)

Nik: Ianto-Rhys friendship content is something that is severely lacking in this fandom, which is a damn shame. You can see from COE that Rhys seems to genuinely care about Jack and Ianto, which I presume is from post-Exit Wounds bonding with his wife’s coworkers. And I know that the audiobook Ghost Train has a lot of good Ianto-Rhys bonding, although I just haven’t had the time to listen to it yet. Either way, this fic, and the other fics by this author, are very well-written and beautiful. This one, set circa S2, has just the right amount of angst mixed in as well as you watched Ianto go from reluctantly accompanying Rhys to actually enjoying himself. I definitely enjoyed this fic.

Beast Inside by Flamingbluepanda (@flamingbluepanda)

"Argue with anything else, but don’t argue with your own nature.” - Phillip Pullman

Inside us all, there is an animal that expresses our soul. How would the world change were those animals outside?

(janto & others | complete | mature | 26K)

Nik: Admittedly, this one is also a bit biased because the author is my friend and I am their loyal occasional beta, but I started reading it before I met the author. Although daemons do come from His Dark Materials, they have become a sort of AU on their own, and thus, you do not need to have read HDM to read this excellent fic. I definitely have not. There is angst, there is fluff, there is canon compliance. And there is Dai. Dai, Rhys’s corgi daemon, is probably not the one you would expect to steal the show, but he stole my heart. (I mean, Navi and Emma, Jack’s bear daemon and Ianto’s terrier daemon, adorable respectively...but Dai!) Expect to fall in love with Dai by ths end of this fic!

To Let by Amand_r

Ianto Jones is a good housemate.

(janto & lisaianto | complete | not rated | 12K)

Nik: Now this fic is a little bit different from the rest because it is not only second person POV but is also outside POV, which makes it slightly odd to read at first. But I can assure you, it is most definitely worth it. Ianto’s unnamed housemate makes for an interesting perspective into Ianto’s personal and domestic life as well as exploring his relationship with Jack. His housemate, of course, doesn’t remain one-sided, with loss and love and life of his own, but you can tell that his bond with Ianto is genuine. This fic provides a nice break from the explicit canon while still exploring familiar events.

Your Job Knows What It Is by ShastaFirecracker

Torchwood Three, 2045. Bram Hudson's just been recruited by Jack Harkness, it's xir first day of work, and orientation is being handled by some old man named Jones.

(janto | complete | gen | 9K)

Nik: Okay, I lied. This fic is outsider POV as well, but Bram is so well-written and complex even from the short while we have with xem. As an alternate to the previous fic, this one provides great, interesting exploration into a future, slightly different Torchwood while also serving as a COE fix-it fic. Older Ianto is just as badass as when he was younger, and the insights into his relationship with Jack are sweet and will leave you craving more.

Worrisome Heart by thepsychicclam

It's 1922. Ianto accidentally stumbles upon a speakeasy owned by Captain Jack Harkness. When Ianto becomes a bartender, he quickly learns how dangerous everything around him truly is, and more importantly, how dangerous Jack is. But the longer he knows Jack, the more he doesn't care.

(janto | complete | explicit | 42K)

Nik: This fic, this series in fact, is one of the only complete Historical AUs I have found in this fandom. Set in 1922 New York, it features all our beloved characters as completely human and sans Torchwood and aliens, which - of course - means that they can feel a bit OOC at first. Still, as you read on through this fic and its three sequels, you will realize just how well adopted the events and characterization from canon are. If you going in thinking of this as original work rather than fic, it might help you adjust to the differences. Quite well-written!

Intersecting Geodesics by NancyBrown

Stuck in a time with a Jack who hasn't met him yet, all Ianto wants is a way home.

(janto & jackjohn | complete | mature | 37K)

Nik: There are numerous “Ianto gets sent into the future by the Rift or an artifact and meets past!Jack” fics existing in this fandom, but this is one of my favorites. For one, it’s written by the incomparable author who has many, many excellent fics that I like. (Their smut is seriously topnotch, especially for some of your kinkier tastes if said tastes exist.) The distanced younger Jack provides just the right amount of angst, and his eventual fall for Ianto is built-up just enough to work believably. The resolution is satisfying enough, and the author has a few other fics in this series to keep you going! 

For Captain and Cardiff by blackhemlock

"At midnight, a nationwide security alert was sent out... Torchwood London, demands all agencies' cooperation in issuing an arrest warrant for Ianto Merric Jones, 24, of Cardiff."

Torchwood Three's Archivist has gone rogue. But, he does have a very good reason, and he looks stunning in his new suit.

(janto & tenjack | complete | gen | 42K)

Nik: Admittedly, I will often be picky in my fics featuring the Tenth Doctor because of how he mistreated Jack, but this fic features a true-to-canon portrayal of Ianto and the Doctor that I adore. It does well in building up your expectations of Ianto and the Doctor’s encountering and then subverting it. There is also good room for Jack-Ianto angst, which only adds to my enjoyment of the fic. I don’t necessarily know how to explain it, but this fic also feels sleek and modern despite its timey-wimey elements.

What Dreams May Come by AVAAntares (@avaantares)

It's bad enough that a plague of alien parasites have fallen through the rift and are preying on Cardiff's citizens. It's worse that someone from Jack's past has come from the future to confront him on Earth. But when Jack himself is taken by the rift, Ianto and Gwen are forced to rely on the most unlikely of allies to keep Torchwood running without him.

Stranded in another century on a distant planet, Jack has only one hope of returning to Earth. But time travel with the Doctor has never been an exact science, and when he returns to Cardiff, things are not at all as he expects to find them...

(janto | complete | teen | 88K)

Nik: Honestly, I think one of my favorite parts of this fic may be the inclusion of an OC, Jamiya Thane, AKA Jack’s mother. I’m just a sucker for fandom’s takes on Jack’s canonical family and past as Javic Thane from Boeshane, and this plays into it well. It’s endearing to watch Jack’s found family, especially Ianto, interact with his mother. Also included is a rather brilliant time-travel mystery that will tug at your heartstrings on many levels. Excellent soft Jack-Ianto content in chapters and a creepy use of a one-off Doctor Who creature.

Ghost Story by Mad_Maudlin

I called out. "Would you like to hear a ghost story?"

For a moment Jack didn't move, and I knew he'd recognized my voice. After a moment he said, flatly, "I don't believe in ghosts."

"It's a complicated story," I admitted, and pulled the watch from my pocket by the chain. "And it starts with 'Long ago and far away.'"

(janto | complete | teen | 70K)

Nik: This fic! I passed this fic many times on my search for new fics to read, and the summary always threw me a bit, but when I decided to take a chance on it, I realized what I’d been missing out on. There’s so many fics in this fandom, and on this list, that take familiar tropes but twist them into something new, just like this fic. Without giving too much away, I can say that this fic features Time Lords, pocket watches, shifting POVs, and a COE fix-it, all packed with a brow-raising plot twist. It’s enough to make me forgive the first person POV, which I can usually not stand but actually works quite well for this fic! A fic worth reading at least once, if not many times. It feels so utterly unique!

Time Tracks by Cyborgtamaki (@cyborgtamaki) and thirteeninafez (@thirteeninafez)

It took him a second to realise what had happened; what had felt like hours while travelling through the rift shrunk itself in his head to a mere instant of searing gold. That’s when the flicker of the fire in front of him finally registered through his confused daze. In his haste to get away from the flames around him, he slipped and fell, scrambling back until he was a safe distance away from the smoke and the heat. It was only then that he took notice of the voices behind him. He turned towards the noise of a deep, northern voice spluttering and saying, confused and almost angry: “Who the hell are you?” The man rolled over onto his knees and stood up, looking around like he’d never seen a street before. “Jones.” He sounded uncertain but then spoke again with more confidence. “Ianto Jones.”

(janto & ninerose | complete | teen | 174K)

Nik: There’s many “Ianto travels with the Ninth Doctor and Rose” fics in this fandom, but this one is the longest, most recent, and one of the most excellent that I’ve read. The authors have written in-depth chapters of the Doctor Who Season 1 episodes we already know and adore as well as adding their own unique “episodes,” all of which are deeply enjoyable. There is excellent character interactions, specifically a wonderful Rose-Ianto friendship, and so much soft Jack-Ianto. The authors have, personally, promised several more installments coming by the end of the year or later, and they are sure to be worth the wait!

Club Wales by pocky_slash

In the wake of Jack's disappearance, Gwen finds comfort in a new friendship with Ianto. Gossip, bonding, and other hijinks of understanding ensue.

(gwenrhys & janto | complete | teen | 19K)

Nik: This author is single-handedly a Gwen-Ianto dynamic icon. Their grasp on Gwen and Ianto’s respective characterization is brilliant, and their friendship in this fic, and any fic the author writes, is well-fleshed out and believable enough for the moments we only really see on-screen briefly in the show. This fic, and overall series, serves as a compelling insight into how the team originally views Jack and how Gwen and Ianto grow closer. Gwen truly was one of Ianto’s big sister figures, which is excellently reflected in this fic. A must read!

Just this once by Beleriandings (@ultraviolet-eucatastrophe)

(Everybody lives.)

(Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

(janto & others | complete | teen | 239K)

Nik: Many fics are post-Exit Wounds and COE fix-its, at the same time, but dare I say that this one is the best? (Or one of the best at least.) The Tenth Doctor receives his own iconic “Everybody lives” moment, but that is only where this fic BEGINS. This beautiful monster, which I mean in the very best sense considering its length, traverses Exit Wounds, COE, and slightly Miracle Day and gives everyone a happy ending. In addition, the author, another friend of mine, I’ll be honest, manages to redeem and humanize Gray in a way I didn’t think possible, but I actually found myself liking him. This is definitely a must, must read, especially if you’re new to the fandom or just finished having your heart thrown out.

The Stars Might Stick You Where You Stand by methylethyl 

Following the fall of Torchwood One, Jack Harkness went to ask Torchwood Three for a job. He didn’t expect to fall a little bit in love with its director, the practical and ever-calm Ianto Jones. He also probably didn’t expect that Ianto Jones would end up holding the answers to his most precious secret.

(janto | complete | explicit | 20K)

Nik: I’ll be honestly - I’m a sucker for role reversal AUs in any fandom, and this is one fic I see rarely mentioned or recced, which I think is a damn shame. It is definitely in my top five fics; I adore it so much. Jack is cast in the role of Ianto, gunning for a job at Torchwood Three after the fall of Canary Wharf. His “Lisa” is his desperate, life-long search for his brother Gray who was taken by Torchwood when they were both children. Ianto is, obviously, the immortal director of Torchwood Three, but what makes him even more compelling is the lack of direct reference to his AU past. We don’t know who this Ianto Jones was before he, like Jack, arrived in Cardiff in the 1800s, newly-immortal and ensnared into working for Torchwood. Instead, this fic, and series, focuses on a stretch of episodes from Season 1 intermingled with elements from Season 2, as well as subverting the expected team relationships. Jack and Ianto are believably different but still realistic in their characterization, and look, I adore this AU, which I’ve already said. A personal favorite and must read!

Cling to the Ways of My Name by engagemythrusters ( @iianto-jones)

If Ianto Jones thought his legacy would die out with him in Thames House, he was dead wrong.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | teen | 37K)

Nik: Hopefully, you’ve already read this fic by now. If not, may I dare ask what you’ve been doing with your life? This is one of my favorite fics of all-time in this fandom, as well as my favorite kidfic ever. It’s so well-written and just so damn unique. I cannot capture in words what makes it so special, although I will try. Ioan Jones is the sweetest janto baby ever, and I love him with all my heart. Jack’s adventures raising Ioan are just so endearing, and later installments, which feature Ianto, serve to satisfy the domestic Jack-Ianto as parents craving you might not even have known you had. There’s just so many little details about this fic I love, including but not limited to - Jack’s found family in the Joneses, Ioan-Anwen friendship, and Ioan loving blue. A definite must read fic to give you the serotonin you need.

Waking Gods by toldthestars 

Why are Ianto's dreams coming true? What's in the box with the symbol on it? Oh, and while we're at it, what's the meaning of the life?

(janto | complete | not rated | 7K)

Nik: This fic is another one with a completely unique premise in this fandom. In fact, there is only one other fic I’ve read that even gives me similar “vibes” for this fic. Here, Ianto suddenly finds himself gaining powerful, unexplainable abilities, essentially becoming a god, and oh my, this is excellent. Ianto is just trying to do good in the world, and the team’s growing fear and distrust of him and his power really sucker-punches you straight in the heart. It’s all so beautifully-written, with powerful imagery that left me awe-struck. The janto angst is oh-so-excellent. Reading this fic for the first time is an experience that I don’t believe can be replicated. 

fool me once, fool me twice by princessoftheworlds (aka me)

When, after the events at the House of the Dead, the Rift spits Ianto out on an alien planet a thousand years later, so begins a goose chase that will take him across the universe and across time until he finds Jack again.

(janto & others | complete | explicit | 52K)

Nik: What kind of fic writer would I be if I created a list of fic recs for Torchwood and did not include one of my own? I consider this fic my masterpiece. The House of the Dead!Ianto get sucked through the Rift and spat out across time and space, turned into another fixed point, as he begins his search for Jack. I don’t know if I can say much else without it sounding like bragging, but it features - in no particular order - a happy ending for one, Ianto getting some badass adventures of his own, a sorta redemption arc for John Hart, numerous references to Big Finish, and too many spinoffs with more to come! Give it a shot, why don’t you?

[curiositydooropened]

Better Off - Teaser

Four years since Argyle's wedding, Robin invited you and the gang to her boss's lake house. Hoping good memories will be made, you're forced to wrestle with some ghosts of your past.

This fic runs in the same Universe as My Whole Life, Too.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader

Wordcount: 1,362

Warnings: second chance romance, angst, fluff, sex and sex adjacent (minors DNI, thanks!), recreational drinking and drug use, mentions of pregnancy and parenthood, mentions of the loss of loved ones

Navigation • Masterlist • Fic Masterlist

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June 1998 - Michigan

The paper garbage sack slipped against the slick chiffon of your floral skirt as you fumbled for the brass door handle.  When the door swung open, you hoisted the sack back up your hip like a sack of flour, catching a rogue apple with the crook of your chin before it went rolling off the pile. 

“Hello?” You called out, stepping into a warm house. Windows were open on either side, a breeze trickling through the foyer and tickling your upper thigh where your skirt had ridden up, caught on your haul. You toed out of your sneakers and huffed your bangs from your eyes. “Anyone home?” 

To no response, you sashayed through the cramped dining room to the kitchen entrance to find a figure hunched in the warm glow of the refrigerator lightbulb. Blue checkered boxers stuck out from the waist band of painted-on black jeans, a black t-shirt loose around a slender build. You waited for him to stand before you slumped your groceries to the wooden countertops with a dramatic sigh.

“It’s fine, I’ve got ‘em.” 

Eddie Munson spun on bare feet to face you, a look of genuine surprise flashed before the corners of his lips turned up in that iconic Cheshire grin, all teeth. You were disappointed to find his dimples hiding behind the patchiest goatee anyone could grow. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He cracked the beer in his hand and kicked the fridge closed. 

“Uh huh,” you practiced an unimpressed demeanor, despite everything in your body screaming to launch yourself into his arms. “Help me with the groceries.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted with two fingers and his beer can before taking a long gulp. His eyes never left yours, so you rolled your eyes and broke the contact, dipping into your bags to start putting things in a bare pantry and refrigerator. 

Eddie sidled up behind you, all spice and cigarette smoke and warm, arms snaked around your middle while his head rested on your shoulder. You cried out and swatted at him as his stubble came to tickle the skin where your jaw met your ear, but he only tightened his grip. “I haven’t seen you in months, and you thought you could get away without affection? You wound me, sweetheart.” 

With a resigned sigh, you gave in, sinking into him nearly deadweight, and he heaved dramatically to hold you upright, swaying back and forth as he pressed lithe kisses to the tops of your cheeks. 

“I missed you,” he graveled, that vibration in your back that sent your knees weak every God damn time. 

“Missed you too,” you rubbed his forearms before patting at his wrists for release. “Now put this meat in the freezer before it goes bad.”

He did as he was told, albeit like a teenager, balancing a steak on top his scraggly hair and one in each hand. He tossed them in and they landed on the frosty interior with thumps. “D’you run into him?” 

“Who?” You breathed, glancing sideways back through the dining room. Your heart began to race in your chest. 

“Steve,” Eddie answered.

You shuffled flour and sugar, baking soda, and lined it up against the wall, eyes still fixed on the front door you left open. “No, should I have?” 

“He and Nance went to the store.” Eddie picked three apples from the top and began to juggle them. “Figured your paths might have crossed.” 

Your shoulders relaxed, and you caught one apple midair and walked it to the fruit basket nearest the breakfast nook on the opposite side of the kitchen. “Could you not play with your food?” 

“You never had a problem with it before,” Eddie tongued at a molar, cheeky grin spread across his features again. His eyebrows waggled. 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I thought Robin made you promise not to be gross this week.” 

He shrugged, added butter, eggs, and bacon to the refrigerator. “Mom’s not home, and we’re both consenting adults.” 

You barked a laugh and glanced around the corner once more. The breeze swept in through billowy, white curtains. After a moment, they fell to expose the long gravel driveway. Your car was parked out front next to another you didn’t recognize. Out of state plates signified it must be a rental. “Yeah where is Robin? She left her boss’s vacation home in your hands?” 

“Ouch,” Eddie snickered, leaning against the back counter to sip his beer again. You shot him a look. He grinned, shaking his hair from his eyes. “She went to pick up Jonathan and Argyle from the airport. She left Nancy in charge.” 

“Ah,” you smiled, folding the paper bags in on themselves to stash under the sink. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking until now, didn’t feel the tremor of your knee cap as it bounced in place. You licked your lips, glanced once more toward the entrance hall. “When do you think they’ll be back?” 

“Any minute,” Eddie answered behind you.

“Cool,” you breathed.

He laughed. “C’mere, sweetheart. Let’s get you a drink.”

You spun on your heel with a smile, nodding fervently.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised, and he tucked his fingers around your hip bone to pull you in closer. 

You slipped his beer from his other hand to sip. It was cheap, and a little stale, and the rim tasted of Eddie, cigarette smoke and spice. “I don’t think I’ll survive this week sober. Do you have anything else to help me out?” You smirked, trailing your fingertips from the guitar pick on his sternum down his chest and past protruding hipbones to the tight front pocket of his jeans.

He wriggled out of your reach, but you managed to sneak two fingers in to procure a rolled up piece of paper. Holding it between you, you were disappointed to find a one dollar bill in place of the joint you were hoping for. “Told you, sweetheart. I don’t do that shit anymore. You’re going to have to ask Argyle.” 

“Traitor,” you admonished. 

He chuckled, fingertips finding purchase under the flow of your t-shirt, just where your flesh rolled above the elastic waistband of your skirt. “But I can offer your something harder than expired beer.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Keep it in your pants, Munson.” 

And then, you were launched across the room. Not quite launched, but had the hard wood been a little slicker, your socks might have betrayed you under the shove Eddie gave you. Some beer sputtered from the can in your hand and splashed the ground. He stood up straight and flashed you an apologetic look before you heard the ruckus in the next room.

“Hey, assholes. Want to help with these groceries?”

Your heart fell into your toes. You hadn’t heard those tones in four years. Not that clear, at least. You’d forgotten how Midwestern he sounded, the long As of his profanities. It hurt, ached somewhere within you you didn’t know existed. Your mouth was dry, and your hand shook too hard when you tried to take another sip, so you placed the can to the countertop.

“Dude, seriously, there’s like three more bags in the car - “ Steve’s voice cut off the moment he entered the claustrophobic kitchen, and he froze right in the doorway, blocking your only exit.

You swallowed and mustered the courage to look up, and there he was, Steve Harrington in all his glory, arms full of plastic grocery bags teeming with snacks. “Hi,” your voice cracked, betrayed you.

“Uh… hi.” His pink lips quirked in a strained smile, and suddenly he was far too close, all encompassing. His face was clean shaven, but his hair remained long and voluptuous. You couldn’t help but notice the pepper graying his temples, the wrinkles at the corner of those honeyed doe eyes. It hurt in that spot again, emotion dammed at your throat, blocking you from making any more noise. 

“Awkward,” Eddie snorted in a singsong.

“Shut up,” you snapped, while Steve simultaneously groaned, “fuck off!” And at least that had the three of you snickering.

---

This is just a teaser. Full fic will be posted on 4/3. Full fic masterlist here. Click here to read the prequel fic.

Thanks, so much, for reaading xo

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[middle-class-trash]

Rise of the Titans liveblog!!!

that intro made me unexpectedly emotional

So if Blinky is narrating, he can't die, right? Right????

BRO THE SUBWAY SCENE!!!! We're getting right fuckin into it!!!

Steve, my son!!!

I wish Toby wasn't a constant punchline 🙃 it just makes me not take his character seriously

CLAIRE!!!!!!

Something about Douxie decking Skrael at the first opportunity is just so sexy of him

Jim is incredibly brave but it's really reckless to go hand-to-hand with a demigod without proper armor

My heart goes BUMBUMBUMBUM when Douxie looks out the traincar window

Sexy traincar tracks spell WHO

THE WRECKAGE AWWWW

Oh my gosh the people stuck in the magic circle because they wouldnt get out of the way

NO NO NO DOUXIE NO

So they were arrested that early?? Jeez

Nari's such a cutie

"None of us will be talking to you" *cut to Toby spilling every bean*

TOBY'S FACE AT THE END HAHHAHAHA

Something about Nari's voice coming out of Douxie's body is so deeply odd

Oh hey, Krel to the rescue

AREA 49 HAKSHDKSKD

"And your mom."

Oh my gosh he's still broken from Wizards 😂

The Guardians are just dead set on pissing off local authorities huh

JIM!!!

STRICKLER?????

BARBARAAAAA

Stricklake supremacy 😌 they both look so good

Claire listening in 😭😭😭 she's so cute

AWWWWW ENGAGED ENGAGED ENGAGED

......does that give them death flags? Fuck. Fuuuuck fuck fuck fuck. It totally does.

AWWW DOUXIE!NARI HUGGING ARCHIE

Aja!!!!

Your majesty!!

Oh yikes, here's that running gag everyone was talking about.. pregnant Steve

Oh hey, Eli's hot now. We been knew 😂

"Mazel tov!" HAHA

Poor Jim needing a bunch of support to walk 🥺 he's such a trooper

I will simply pass away if Blinky dies

I hope Douxie is okay, we haven't seen him in Nari's body and that makes me ✨nervous✨

OH JKJK

Nari is so goddamn pretty

"Only your presence, not your commitment" is such a rapey saying

"Abra-cadabra, buttsnacks" I love that he still says that 🥺🥺 he loves his friends so much

"Do your worst" *cue both Douxie and Nari absolutely screaming in pain*

Krohnisfere? Alrighty then, that's the first mission

"I wouldn't be so sure of that" AWWW

They fixed the amulet???? DUUUUDE

"For the good of all..." 😭😭😭😭

"Or I could lock onto Nari and portal us there" *dead fucking silence*

I hate how Toby's used as a constant punchline.. a penny? Really?

TRAINTRACK MAGIC CIRCLE GO BRRRR

Poor Nari 🥺 Douxie's in so much distress

Oh no, the new amulet isn't working?? Fuckk

That absolutely gorgeous screencap of pissed Aja

Part of me is glad Nari was forced to do this and wasn't actually a traitor

Ice titan awakening sequence? Ice titan awakening sequence.

Oh Nari. Oh sweetie

Oh my gosh she's fucking tied to her titan

Boiling water!!! Or underwater explosion, that works too. Much more dramatic but that's Bellroc's style

Oh wow Steve actually has a bump?? What the fuck???

Oooh, TrollDragons?

Charlie!!!

"We still don't have a trollhunter" Aja, honey, not helpful

"Does he even trust himself? AJA, HONEY, NOT HELPFUL

Barbara being proud of her son 😭😭

OOH fusing excalibur with the armor?

Aja is so full of confidence, it's a good look for her

Steve being preggo is..really fucking weird. When they said

AWWW BLINKY AND AARRRGHHH

Your honor, I love them

OOH IS IT SOFT JLAIRE TIME

Ohhhh it's soft Jlaire time

He's always looking out for his mom 🥺

"I will always be here (head), and here (heart)" just fuck me up fam

Charlie!!!

Zong-Shi?

"Only death will come to those who go looking for it" oh dear

"The troll with many eyes" how does Charlie know Blinky? 😂

AYYY this where the banner that I found first is from!!! it was so cool seeing my screenshot circulate when we were starved for content 😂😂 everyone was posting various rott icons and banners that they got hoping they'd find a new one

Oh dear.. government

Blinky dear they can't understand you

"Holy frijole" Claire I simply adore you

WOW THAT'S PRETTYYYYY

Troll slaves???

So is Zong-Shi this ugly ass pear-lookin ass

Aja chilling with Jim even though she has doubts is an interesting strategic choice

Douxie, AARRRGHHH, and Nomura? Talk about rarepare

NOMURA CATCHING HIM 😭😭 SEXYYYY

DOUXIE RESCUING NOMURA 😭😭😭😭 SEXXYYYYY

If I havent said it yet, the animation is breathtaking

OH SHIT JIM

aaaaand here come those frozen wings

Nari cant be in control of herself, there's no way. She's still tied to the titan for Pete's sake

NOMURA????

Please dont let this be a sacrifice

PLEASE NO

BOTH CHANGELINGS????

STRICKLANDER??????

No on-screen death, so it's not real. No on-screen death, do it"# notbsmejelreal

NO ON-SCREEN DEATH BUT IT'S NOT REAL

THEYRE TALKING AHOUT HIM PAST-TENSE NOOOO

THEY RBOGUHT UP HIS DADDDDDD

"There's no revelation I can give you" is a great way of saying he's not relevant, genuinely

Oh wow this guy's freaky

Ohhhh so the green thing from the trailers and promo photos is the Krohnisfere

Archie to the rescue!!!

"That's my boy!" AWWE

"Claire nooo, no no no no YESSS, I'm free!!!" Blinky, never change 😂

Oh wow, they're already in contact with Bellroc's titan??

Different note, but the titan's designs are just different enough to make them interestun

VARVATOS??? Okay jk somehow it's gun robot lmfao

WAIT NEVER MIND HAHAHAH HI BUD

....if the bridge falls, can't Charlie just fly them across

LMAO he just saw his death?? That is what he wanted to see 🤷🏻‍♀️

It's too early to celebrate, there's no way Bellroc is down after just a few pinches

Yeahhh

Oh dear... is Varvatos in danger?

Claire being the warrior of the group is incredible and sexy and hhnnngggg

Toby is a Hufflepuff. I will not be answering questions

OH WOW THAT'S HOW HE BURNED HIS HAND??? THE HONRGAZEL?????

ARCHIE SAID GOODBYE??? NO NO NO NO NO

Douxie's gonna be a flat mess!!!

God, plus Nomura and Stricklander

NOOOO DOUXIE YOU BIG SWEETIE

Oh my gosh this is the scene with Douxie trying to connect with Nari, it has to be

"I need to try again" AWWW HONEY

That shot of Mexico was incredibly stereotypical

DOUXIE SWEETHEART 🥺🥺

He's trying to hold her hand???? AWWWW

Oh my gosh he's being choked 😳

NARI BABY!!!!

The huggos 🥺🥺

Jim being frustrated is totally realistic

Wait wait wait waittt do they have the entire titan at their disposal?

"There's absolutely nothing all the way out here" cue a titan. Any of them.

And there it is.

CLAIRE SUPREMACY!!!!!!!

White haired Claire? White haired Claire???

Oh dear it's like.. a little over halfway and there's so much left that could happen

COACH. COOOOACH

OH THANK GOD!!! Steve doesn't need another paternal figure dying on him

Time for Skrael to fuck shit up 😬

I find it interesting how Bellroc and Skrael's titans are both bipedal but Nari's is on four legs, much more animalistic

NARI, NOOOOO PLEASE NO

At least Skrael's done????

We kinds knew Bellroc was the final boss but NOT LIKE THIS

DOUXIE SCREAMING FOR HER

NOOOOOOO

No more running. GODDAMNIT

The three can no longer unite but Bellroc can still fcuk shit up

A HIDDEN PAGE??? FUCK THE WORLD IS TO BE REFORGED WITH FIRE

THE HEARTSTONE??????

Oh shit, the explanation for why Arcadia's the center of everything!!

The only heartstone?? Really???? That's scary as shit, trolls could go instinct without a reliable hearthstone!!

EXCALIBUR TIMEEE

JIMMMMMM

Come on honey, you can do it!!

Aja, honey, I love you so much but now's not the time

THE HEARTSTONE???? FUCK DUDE

.......Steve

Eli the midwife?? ...gross

Jim, my love, my baby boy!!!

The nine of them!!!

AWW BLINKY BEING THE BEST DAD

THEY WORK TOGETHER 😭😭😭😭

FUCK YEAH!!!!!!

"Quiet desperation" is a great word for it

Are we coming on to the big final battle?

Ohnoohnoohno they all said the thing 😭😭😭 someone's gonna die. At least one more is gonna die.

HE'S DRIVINGGGG. LOVE THAT FOR HIM

STICKY SPELL TIME!!!!!!

"Some sort of stickum!" Bro 😂😂

I love how he calls them all Trollhunters 😭 throwback to the OG show where the three of them were all called that

Aja Terron supremacy

Oh it's weird.. it's very weird. Why did Steve have to be pregnant again

Oh dear, there's half an hour left.. this has to be the final battle

JIM

Varvatos shielding Claire and Krel 🥺

Fuck, man, people are getting thrown left and right

DOUXIE MY LOVE

Oh here we fucking go, rematch

NEW AMULET???

Jim's about to get royally fucked up

LIKE THAT

FUCK

WHY IS SHE TAKING HIM??? GOD NO

Anti-magic beacon??

Helloooo that's smart asf

This gives Mount Doom vibes

"Embrace your loved ones for the final time" FUCK MAN STOP IT

"I already was" DAMN RIGHT BUD

NEW AMULETTTT

GO GET JIM GO GET 'IM

DAYLIGHT ARMOR!!!!!!

He was ready to just sacrifice himself like THAT

DAYLIGHT ARMORRRRR WITH EXCALIBUR??????? FUUUUCK

Jim being great at combat is just the best fucking thing

Oh fuck. OH FUCK.

STABBED??????

PLEASE NO, GOD NO

FUUUUCK

"I'm powerless" "You get used to it" WE DONT HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT

JIM HONEY PLEASE DONT DIE

Is that....is that it?? Oh dear god, is that it????

JIM WHERE ARE YOU

I'm calling it now it's too early to be celebrating

Oh god the weird babies

WHERE IS TOBY

WHERE

NO

MY JAW FUCKING DROPPED

NO WAY, NO FUCKING WAY

HE'S GETTING A DYING MONOLOGUE??????

ALWAYS HAVE BEEN, ALWAYS WILL BE

"Itll be the two of us at the end" WHY DOES THAG SEEM LIKE JIM WILL GO OUT TIO

THERE'S NO WAY TOBY JUST DIED

THHERE'S NO WAY

That was sad as fuck but in a narrative way I hope it's permanent

Oh dear, Jim's going back????

Oh shit

WWHAT IS HE DOING

NOOOOO

"I have cherished every moment with you" STOP IT HE'S HIS FATHER

"I FYOU WERE MY OWN SON" STOPPPPPP

WHAT'S HAPONEINGGGGG

CLAIRE

NOOOO

THIS IS WHERE IM SOBBING

THIS IS WHERE IM LOSUNG IT

"Dont give up on me" FUCK STOPPPP

"I WILL ALWAYS BE HERE AND HERE" FUCK IT STOPPPPP

"I would date you for a hundred lifetimes" IS REALLY BEING TESTED HUH

THERE ARE 10 MINUTES ELFT WHAT THEBFUCK

AND WE'RE BACK TO TROLLHUNTERS?.????

HUHHHH

Fuck, man. FUCK, MAN.

Oh, Toby. Ohhhh Toby

CLAIRE 🥺

ROMEO AND JULIET!!!!

Oh my fucking god

"IF YOUD COME OVER TO DINNER" AYYYYY

His smile at Steve 🥺

HE'S HAVING TOBY TAKE THE CANAL???? But wouldnt the amulet still call for Jim?????

"Nothing interesting ever happens in Arcadia" VERY FUCKING FUNNY

Destiny is a gift. Some go their entire lives living in an existence of quiet desperation, never learning the truth- that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders is actually the sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor. That to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero. Don't think. Become.

.......it actually called his name. I can't believe it actually called his name.

The fuck is that ending??? Let Jim REST

[me-and-your-husband]

the winter soldier 2.0|| b. barnes

Summary: You’re being brainwashed by HYDRA like Bucky was. What the Avengers don’t know, was that you have a past with Steve and Bucky.

Warnings: Some swearing, angst, kidnapping, brainwashing, knifes, guns, fighting, all of that fun stuff, fluff to make up for the angst.

Pairing: Bucky x HYDRA!reader

Words: 1.2k

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat, Tony, Bruce

A/N: italics mean flashback to the 40′s

          I put the black Dodge RAM in park, and stepped out, slamming the door. I huffed out a breath, seeing it accumulate in fog in front of my face. I scanned the bar in front of me, looking for escape routes, incase this whole thing goes awry. Three exits, the front door, the employee entrance/exit in the back, and the emergency exit door. I gave myself one reassuring nod, and walked around the truck to the back. I pulled the hatch down, and grabbed my duffel bag. Taking a quick look around me to make sure nobody was watching me, I unzipped my jacket and took off my sweatpants. My burgundy leather suit was revealed, and so were my black combat boots. I swept my messily-curled hair into a ponytail, and unzipped my duffel bag.  

      I grabbed a few hand grenades, just in case, and attached them to my utility belt. I put my knives where they should be; my thigh holster, utility belt, and one in my boot, by my ankle. I grabbed my pistol, and slid it into my other thigh holster. Lastly, I pulled my mask up, which covered the bottom half of my face, mouth and nose, and was the same color of my suit. I grabbed my High-Tech Assault Rifle that HYDRA supplied me with, like all of my weapons, my suit, and my training. I held it with one hand, and walked down the alley between the bar, and a cute rustic café. If I wasn't being ordered to kill people everyday, I might’ve gone there sometime.

     I brushed the thought aside, and climbed the cafe’s fire escape ladder. I lined up my aim with the huge window of the bar, where you could see a few of the Avengers laughing and drinking together, and took the pin of a grenade off with my mouth and threw it at the window. It was just a low-impact, so it wouldn’t cause too much damage to civilians. A loud explosion went off, and then screams. I took this as my chance, and jumped off of the two-story café. I aimed my gun around, looking for the man they call “The Winter Soldier”. 

“Dark hair, blue eyes, metal arm,” the commander had described him to me. 

I hid in the corner, with a few pieces of flaming debris, and recognized him. He was with the rest of the Avengers, calmly trying to get the civilians out of the flaming bar.

He was close enough to me that I could take a shot at him without equipping my scope onto my AR. I lined it up right with his head, and pulled the trigger. At the last second, he moved his metal arm up to deflect the bullet. I gave a frustrated huff, when I heard movement beside me. 

     Tony Stark, or rather, Iron Man in his suit, stood next to me, holding his hand up. Before he could charge his stabilizers fully, I threw my gun as I dove down, sliding through his legs strategically. I stood behind him, and reached over his shoulder to the arc reactor that powered his suit. Without that, he could only rely on his backup energy. I ripped the reactor out of his chest, and heard his suit power down. 

“Shit,” he yelled.

“Language!” said somebody from behind me. The enhanced hearing that I had, thanks to the Super-Soldier serum they gave me all those years ago, let me hear the vibrations in the air of a metal...disc?

   No, it was Captain America’s shield, which I ducked from just in time, so it ended up hitting Tony’s suit and ricocheting off. Cap caught it again, as Tony stepped out of his suit, and joined the rest of the team. I looked around for my gun, which I had left on the floor to the left of me. I lifted my hand to dive for it, but instead I was caught off-guard by a female voice.

“Don't even think about it,” said Black Widow, aiming a pistol at me. Even in casual clothes, they all looked heroic, carrying their weapons with them everywhere they went. I put my hands up slowly, wanting to show them I wasn’t going to try anything, even though that was very much not my plan. 

“You’re HYDRA,” Cap said, nodding toward the logo on my chest. My lips twisted into a smirk, and I nodded my head.

“What do you want,” said Bucky Barnes coldly. “Who are you?”

“They call me The Winter Soldier,” I said, staring him dead in the eyes. His face contorted from cold, to confused real quick, along with Cap, Tony, and Black Widow, the only Avengers that tagged along to their little get-together. “I was given that name after the Winter Soldier before me escaped HYDRA,” I said.

“That’s why you’re here, to take me back?” Bucky said, becoming enraged.

“No, I have no intentions of taking you back. Once I kill you, I’ll leave your body with your precious Avengers, and you can have a state funeral,” I said, distracting them enough for me to dive to my left and grab my gun. I hid behind the bar, and to my luck, the wall behind the bar was a mirror, so I could see them, but from where they were standing, they couldn't see me. I poked my head out a little bit, and started firing relentlessly at Bucky. He blocked each shot with his metal arm, as I dodged Natasha’s bullets and Steve’s shield. Tony worked on getting his suit back up and running, and I finally ran out of bullets. As I put another round in, I didn’t hear someone come up from behind me. 

    Bucky grabbed me by the collar, and pushed me against the wall. My mask muffled my yelp. He stared me dead in the eyes, and mine wandered to my gun. He grabbed my jaw and turned me head to face him. 

“Who are you really?” He asked, coming out in a sort of growl noise. When I didn’t answer, Steve came up beside him and asked me again. I let out a small chuckle at their confusion. Bucky’s metal arm came up and I thought he was going to punch the shit out of me, so I braced for impact. Surprisingly, it crashed down onto the wall beside my face. He lifted it to the bridge of my nose, and pulled down my mask in one swift motion. He took in a sharp breath, and let go of my collar. Steve’s eyes went wide with disbelief, and Bucky’s flesh hand covered his mouth. He pulled me in and embraced me, which resulted in me pushing him off of me. 

“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I was sent here to kill you. Let me get back to doing that,” I said, as I gained my strength back and grabbed my pistol from my thigh holster. 

     Bucky and I walked hand-in-hand down the pier in Brooklyn. He carried a picnic basket in his other hand, while I carried a green blanket in mine. 

“I can’t believe you’re going off to the war, Buck,” I said. “How will I sleep at night knowing you might not come back?” I asked him, my brows scrunched together. He stopped walking, and gave me that god-forsaken half smile. 

“I’ll write to you everyday, Doll. And I know I’ll come home, you know why?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Because I have something, someone, to come home to. My beautiful fiancée, who worries too much. Doll, I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll just make the time we do have sweeter,” he said, which made me grin. He leaned down, so his lips were on mine. 

     Bucky, Steve and I had always been best friends since we were old enough to walk. Bucky was always getting Steve out of fights, and they were their own two, an iconic duo of two opposites. I didn’t have any friends myself, always too focused on my school work, and my nose deep in books. I wanted to prove the world wrong; that a girl could be just as smart as a man. Bucky and Steve seen that. They believed in me. I was top of all my classes, and ended up tutoring Steve and Bucky one summer. After that, we all just stuck together and stayed friends.

    Bucky first admitted his feelings for me four years ago, and I admitted that I reciprocated them. We have just recently become engaged, but then he found out he was being promoted to Sergeant, and we spent all the time in the world together. We included Steve of course, who was still trying to get into the army. We always tried to make sure he never felt like a third-wheel.

    The next day, Bucky went off to the war. I bid him farewell, through tears and sniffles. Even Bucky shed a couple tears. After, Steve and I went out for coffee. When he told me he had been accepted into the army, I expressed genuine concern for him, which caused an argument between us. I didn't get to apologize before he left, and I never saw Bucky or Steve again, as Bucky was dead and Steve was in the ice, but we didn't know that.

   I was visiting my late fiancé's grave on a late afternoon in May, when a black Volkswagen Beetle pulled up to the cemetery. They snatched me right from the graveyard, and nobody was ever to see me again either. 

Well, they did, but they never lived long enough to tell anyone that.

Now, I’m fighting off the Avengers with my fists, and it’s safe to say they’re losing.

   They all have blood all over, gashes, wounds, cuts, but Bucky still isn’t dead. I had no marks at all on me, as the soldiers wouldn’t let Tony and Nat cause harm to me. 

“We need to find away to sedate her, so we can bring her back to the tower, where Bruce and Tony can reverse the mind games,” Steve told the others, Bucky immediately agreeing. He still looked like a lost puppy every time I lunged at him, a knife clutched in my fist. 

I couldn’t help it. There was a feeling, deep down, stored somewhere in my brain, that told me to stop, that you felt for this man, but I didn’t listen. The only thing I could hear running through my head; Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

It was the programming. It wasn’t my fault. I promise.

Eventually, I was kicking Avenger ass. I had them all on the floor. Nat I had knocked out, Tony was slouched against a wall, and Steve was pretty damaged, so was Bucky. I was so caught up with trying to kill my predecessor, that I didn’t hear Tony calling Sam. 

“Just send Redwing. Bruce will load ‘er up with a standard anesthetic that will knock her out for a few hours,” Tony said through grunts into his phone. I ignored it.

I had a knife in front of Bucky’s chest, him using his metal arm to try and pull mine away, Steve trying to pull me off of Bucky by the hips, and failing. Bucky and I battled for strength, but it was hard with Steve pulling me. I hesitated for a second. One damn second, I second guessed my programming, and Bucky managed to wrestle me to the ground, the knife sliding across the floor out of my reach. He landed on top of me, using his arms to hold himself up. When I kicked and squirmed to get out, he pinned my arms down on the sides of my head, his heavy breath landing on my lips. 

    Out of the blue, there was a zooming noise, and a high-tech looking drone shot a vile of some liquid into my neck, and soon, I passed out under my target.

   When I came to, I was in a padded room, with one wall being a mirror. I knew immediately that it was a one-way mirror, and they were watching me right now. I’ve been a lab rat before, but this was different. I looked at myself in the mirror. My ponytail had fallen out during the fight, so my locks hung over my shoulders and down my back. They had confiscated all of my weapons, including my hidden ankle knife. I groaned, but was silently grateful that I wasn’t in a straight jacket. Again. Those things aren’t fun.

   I sat, with my head against the wall, thinking about how I got here. I cringed when I remembered what they’d do to me when I get back, or they send someone to come get me. I failed. I failed myself, my commander, HYDRA, everyone. They gave me the super soldier serum in the forties. They gifted me that, four times. Meaning I was Bucky and Steve twice. I should have been able to overpower them. It just took that one damn second of hesitation, and I could already see myself tied to a chair with a gag in my mouth, being burned, slashed, shot, so much more. This was the first mission I had ever failed.

   Soon, a short man with dark hair and a lab coat walked in to the room. I looked up, embarrassed from the tears that stained my cheeks. I wiped them away, and he came and crouched down beside me. 

“My name is Dr. Banner. I’m going to help you, y/n,” I said. I shook my head, and gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“Nobody can help me. I’m in too deep now. They’ll probably kill me anyways,” I mumbled.

“At least let us try,” said Dr. Banner. I looked up at him, and then noticed that Bucky, Steve, Nat, Tony, and Sam all stood behind him. I nodded, and Bucky slowly walked toward me. I looked up at him, and I think he sensed how tense and afraid I was. 

“It’s okay, Doll. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come, let's go to the lab so Bruce can help you remember me,” he said, holding out his hand with a small reassuring smile. I reluctantly took his hand and stood. He led me through the building, the rest of them following. Once we got to the lab, Bruce sat me down on the exam bed and asked me a few questions.

“Full Name?”

“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n,”

“Date of birth?” 

“D/O/B, 1918,”

A few more simple questions followed, which I answered.

“Okay. I’m gonna ask you to take your gloves off, I just need to put an IV in your hand. It’s routine,”

I nodded and obliged. I layed my gloves down on the table next to me, and gave Dr. Banner my left hand to put the IV in. He stopped when he took my hand, as Bucky’s jaw dropped. A look of confusion spread across my face. 

“She’s still wearing it!” Bucky exclaimed to Steve, who gathered around to look at your hand. Steve immediately broke out in a smile, and hugged his best friend.

“Oh, the ring?” I asked and the smile on Bucky’s face confirmed my answer. “Yeah, I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to take off,” I explained, the smile never leaving Bucky’s face. He rubbed a hand over his stubble. “I’m pretty sure, before HYRDA took me I had a husband, or a fiancé, but HYDRA wiped all memories of him from me.” I said, and Bucky’s smile faded, only a little.

“Well, let’s get to that remembering, then, hmm?” Dr. Banner said.

It’s been three months. Three months. Everyday, a new test. Nothing. Dr. Banner and Tony gave me some type of memory therapy the other day, and now they’re waiting a few days to see if it kicks in. I don’t have much faith in it anymore.

     I woke up this morning, and something felt, different. I was still in the bedroom that Tony gave me, but I just felt...different, I don't know. I assumed it was just my period, so I went to the bathroom to check, but no, it wasn't my period. I brushed it off and took a shower, got ready for my day, etcetera, all of the things normal people do in the mornings. I decided I needed to eat something, based off of the rumble coming from my stomach.

    I walked into the kitchen, wishing everyone a good morning. I grabbed a banana off of the counter, and ate it whilst leaning against the counter. When I was done, I walked over to the garbage to throw it out, but I didn’t see Bucky coming from the other way. I walked right into him and almost slipped, this new drug that Bruce has me on making me drowsy all the time, but he caught me, his metal arm on the small of my back. I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds he pulled me back up, his hand still on my back. 

“You okay Doll?” He asked with a grin.

“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath. My hand squeezed his flesh arm. That was it! 

“Huh?” He said with a bemused look on his face.

“Bucky! I remember! I remember you and me, we were on the pier the day before you left for the war. We were getting married!” I said, a huge smile on my lips, and my eyes brimming with tears. His eyes filled with water too, and he picked me up and held me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and nudged my nose into his neck. We stood like that for awhile, but then I pulled my head away from his neck. 

“I thought you were dead!” I said, and playfully hit his chest. He chuckled.

“I’m right here, baby,” he said, bringing his lips closer to mine. The kiss was long and passionate, sweet and longing. When we both pulled away for air, he took my left hand and kissed my palm. I moved it to cup his cheek, and he moved his hand on top of mine. “So, do you still want to marry me?” He said.

“Of course, Buck,”

[ourladylennon]

Thanks for the tag @harrisonsblues <333 your icon is like one of my favorites to see when I’m on my dash and idk why- it’s just so pleasing 😭💙 I didn’t know you were into graphic design as well but makes sense with how amazing your moodboards turn out!! also huge ty this was the perfect *I can’t pay attention to anything rn* distraction I needed heh

Name/nickname: Jessica/Jess

Gender: female (she/her pronouns)

Star sign: leo (it’s false advertising i don’t live up to the zodiac)

Height: 5'5" 

Time: 1:05 pm

Fav band: the ✨ Beatles ✨

Fav solo artist(s): Tame Impala aka Kevin Parker, Mac DeMarco, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison

Song stuck in my head: R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys (plz for the love of god it’s stuck on loop HALP)

Last movie: Beatles Anthology!!!! <3

Last show: .......Survivor 😂 we’ve been binge watching it ever since my partner got injured, but I watch Peaky Blinders when I get alone time!

When did I create this blog: March 2020! <3 

Last thing I Googled: alignment chart lmao

Do I get asks: yes and I cherish them- you all really brighten my day 💞💗

Why I chose my url: cuz John Lennon is my babey 💃✨ (I was actually just trying to go for a play on “lady luck” and was going to make it “lady lennon”- I like alliterations- but it wasn’t available so I just threw the “our” in front to make it work

Average hours of sleep: about 7ish; sleeping is annoying to me

Lucky number: 3, 9, 11

Instrument: HA, you’re funny i’m not musically inclined sadly

What am I wearing: just a white tee cause i’m still in pj’s 🙃

Dream job: artist of any sort really; graphic art or writing would be ideal

Dream trip: I genuinely adore the desert and it’s the single place I ever want to travel when I think of “ooh i’m gettin out of here!” OR Liverpool

Favourite food: ima pretend you didn’t ask that

Favourite song: ever???? Couldn’t tell ya but I generally say “One of These Nights” by Eagles because....soul bop

Last book I read: John Lennon: In my Life by Pete Shotton but have yet to complete it, last finished book....The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn; not to mention countless fanfics

Top three universes I’d like to live in: Beatles Hamburg timeline (does that count?), Supernatural, Teen Wolf??? Not sure, probably just ❣️ this one ❣️i’m currently in because I genuinely adore waking up and seeing the regular sun and breathing the regular air and drinking my regular coffee and shit

tagging: @mothernatures-sons @princessleiaqueen (you guys r a pair and can’t be separated lmao <3) @lovemccartney @dbp @beatles-salad @seraphicmercury @martianmadness66 @monkberries @thelaceison @the-lull-and-the-cull @pikacat98 & anyone else who feels up to it!

[the-world-of-naiyara]

I told you I would bombard you once you accept requests ^^. Could you please write how a long distance relationship looks like with Al :)

Ok, so... 

Your request inspired me and I got a little carried away. I really hope you like it. 

My fics won’t always be this long. 

Smile. 

Scholar smiled.

A couple of days ago, she had read an article that said that forcing oneself to smile forced the brain to release the hormones responsible for happiness.

She didn’t feel anything. Definitely not happiness.  

She waited.

But the icon didn’t change color. It remained as grey as indifference.

Alistair was usually punctual, yet he was 30 minutes late and counting. He hadn’t even answered Scholar’s messages.

And he’d cancelled their last two Facetimes.

Scholar tried, as she had for the past three weeks now to ignore the voice in her head.

She’d been quite successful at it too, using the Tadashi approved technique of burying herself under mountains of works.

At times, the voice was louder, though and it was always accompanied by Alistair’s face. Like nauseas, coming randomly, waves of tears threatened to push through. Luckily, she was always able to swallow them back down.

She had grown use to the regular heartbeat rush. It was like her heart was watching a horror movie filled with jumps cares.

The monster in her movie was him.

But Alistair wasn’t a monster. And that was the whole problem. He was like Edward Scissorhands, a genuinely kind person who was hurting her by mistake.

Scholar smiled again. A little more this time.

She waited with her Cheshire-cat-grinn but nothing was released. On the contrary, her throat tightened. As did her jaw as she tried to stop it from trembling.

That happened every time she thought of him, now.  Even though, this time was different.

All week she’d been able to calm herself by thinking about today. He had sworn he wouldn’t cancel like the last times and she’d believed him. Of course, the feeling that something was going on hadn’t vanished, but she had told herself that today, they would Facetime and all her fears would be put to rest.

Today, as time went by, her shield of reassurance was weakening, and the mob of tears was getting stronger, beating at the doors of her eyes, like savages.

Scholar took a deep breath.

“Stop being so insecure! Al loves you. He’s probably just really busy with his training and stuff. He loves you.” She repeated the last sentence mentally, but the mantra was pathetic.

The college book near the computer was teasing her. Laughing at the idiot who had decided not to take the sabbatical to follow her boyfriend to China, where he was practicing martial art and preparing for the up coming Olympics in a year. She grasped it and threw it against a wall.

Now, she was stuck in front of a stupid computer. Tied up by a sadistically love that forced her to watch as that light remained grey and still. Perfect representation of the death of her relationship.

If only she’d gone with him! Alistair trained about six hours a day. He didn’t have time to think about her. If Scholar had at least been with him, they would have lived together, ate breakfast together and slept in the same bed. He couldn’t have forgotten her. Now, he had been gone for three months and was already ghosting her.

He was a monster! What kind of good man ghosted their girlfriend?

“I hate him.” She cried without even realizing the wall were down and the mod of tears had invaded her.

She wished it were true. As of this moment, she wanted to hate him more than she wanted anything else. But her cruel brain, mocking her pain, kept shoving mental pictures of Alistair’s angelic smile in her mind’s eyes.  Screening all the time Scholar had spent with him back when they were together in Arlington. Their first kiss in the gym, Alistair, sweaty and gross and perfect.  The first time he took her home with him, in Texas. The first time he told her he loved her and how his freckled faces was washed out in red as he did.  

She looked at her immobile, colorless screen and felt an urge of anger at the Facetime app. She wanted to grab the computer and throw it against a wall. Or close it and forget about it.

But she couldn’t. Paralyzed by the infinitesimal possibility that he might still connect himself. Forty minutes had passed, and she just stayed there. Torn between the hatred of her own love and the love she felt for him.

When the app started ringing, Scholar shrieked.

The angelic face was calling her. Her insides were a twisted Slinky toy and her throat was closed for business. Her arms felt like the time she’d trained with Alistair. She could barely lift them. It took her so long to pick up that the call stopped.

                                            Missed called

 The red letter made the throat tightening worse. It was painful. The way it would be had her neck been in a vice grip.

She would have to wait until tomorrow to know of the future of her relationship.

But the app started ringing before she could react. A small wave of relief, the sting of hope and she managed to pick up, trembling.

“Babe? Thank God, I thought I’d missed you! I’m so sorry, I…” Alistair’s voice trailed off. Had Scholar been crying? Now, it was his turn to feel his heartbeat increase and it was beating faster than after any of the crazy cardio session he’d been doing here.

“Babe? Babe, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me!” Seeing his girlfriend crying and being so Goddamn far away was torture. He should have been there, holding her tight, reassuring her! Alistair grabbed the screen without thinking. “Baby please. Talk to me.”

It never even crossed his mind that Scholar could think he didn’t love her anymore and wanted to break up. When she was finally capable of voicing it, it was like falling face first on the asphalt.

Had it not been for the tears and the red, puffy eyes, he would have thought Scholar was kidding. “How? How on earth could you think that?” He said softly. “God, I… I’m crazy about you, Scholar… I’m so sorry!”

Alistair wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to punch himself. His hand stiffened on the computer.

“I was stuck in traffic forever. There was an accident on the road and my phone died right when I was answering your text.”

“You’ve been cancelling all our Facetimes!” Scholar scolded him, sniffing hard.

“It’s because I wanted to surprise you! My trainer here said that with my level, if I worked even harder every day, I could probably finish the training in six months instead of nine. I wanted to come home to you faster.”

Scholar felt all her pain, anger and despair being flushed away. She breathed out.

Alistair grabbed the other side of the screen now and got a little closer.

“Scholar, I love you more than anything. You should know that by now. If you think a couple thousand miles are enough to make me forget you, then think again. I’m coming home and I’m coming home soon. Just three more months and we’ll be together.”

Scholar smiled. This time, it was genuine. This time, she felt the happiness.  

[readyforit]

hi I think this is my ranking of norman fucking rockwell by lana del rey + why

1. venice bitch — this song has just gradually become my favourite because it’s PERFECTION it’s almost ten (?!!!!??!) minutes of the most perfect mood and atmosphere ever. the lyricism is top notch, lana’s vocals are so serene, and the instrumentals is the most amazing thing ever. I need to go feral when I listen to music and the INSTRUMENTALS IN THIS SONG MAKE ME WANT TO ASCEND TO HEAVEN; the guitar! the harmonisation! the riffs! everything rolls together so gracefully like ocean waves, it’s like heaven to my ears. I could listen to this song forever, it’s genuinely so perfect. 2. happiness is a butterfly — this used to be my favourite nfr song! it’s sO BEAUTIFUL. I adore the different stages of the song, how it slowly builds up in anticipation and then slows down and then paces back and forth and then RACES UP AND MAKES YOU WANT TO SCREAM. the lyrics are so sweet and brimming with yearning I want to cry. I literally want to chant ‘I SAID DON’T BE A JERK DON’T CALL ME A TAXI SITTING IN YOUR SWEATSHIRT CRYING IN THE BACKSEAT OOH OOH OOH I JUST WANNA DANCE WITH YOU HOLLYWOOD AND VINE BLACK RABBIT IN THE ALLEY I JUST WANNA HOLD YOU TIGHT DOWN THE AVENUE I JUST WANNA DANCE with baby I just wanna dance... with you.... baby I just wanna dance.... with you’ like a million times a day. the song takes you to such a specific location and feeling it’s unmatchable. 3. cinnamon girl  — sometimes I feel like this song isn’t my favourite song in the whole world because it’s so perfect. dlfskj like sometimes I don’t like songs because they’re just so Polished and precise and amazing, which is kind of ironic. anyway I adore cinnamon girl SO MUCH, from the title to the lyrics to the vocals, it’s like a dream I’m living in. the way the vocals come in is so perfect and the beat is so mesmerising and the ‘AH AH AHA HAAHAHA’ in the chorus makes me want to faint, the song literally gets better every time you think it can’t. ‘there’s things I want to say to you but I’ll just let you live’ is also such a relatable lyric I hate it. cinnamon girl is like the prettiest song in the whole world. 4. fuck it I love you — THIS SONG IS JUST SO AMAZING I hate how relatable it is, the desire and desperation... it’s killing me slowly........ everything flows together so perfectly, like the instrumentals and vocals just trace each other flawlessly. the bridge is when the song reaches its peak, it’s LEGENDARY ICONIC INSPIRING and I soak the lyrics up like water ghfadfolk. it’s so perfect. 5. california — I think this was my favourite song when I first listened to the album! the layers the complexity the patterns, amazing. there are so multitudes of different sections in the song, it goes through a verse then pre chorus and chorus and post chorus like three times fgldfkjf it’s pure iconicism. plus this is just another song that makes me want to go to america. the countdown from two, three, four before the chorus, the chant-like rhythm of the post chorus, the sadness in the lyrics... perfect. (also can we talk about how lana references flipside, carmen, summertime sadness in one song. what.) 6. the greatest — I live for the ‘AND I’M WAAAAAAAAAASTED’. I love how nostalgic and pondering the song is, it feels like a distant, wandering moment in time just floating around. to be honest I feel like it gets a bit slow/draggy at times and the lyrics don’t really make sense (or at least I’m lacking in braincells) but I guess the space-y slow atmosphere is the point. I like how the song trails off at the end with seemingly random trains of thought... ‘kanye west is blonde and gone’ is my personal favourite. 7. love song — THIS SONG IS SO BEAUTIFUL it’s flooding with vulnerability, relating to this song is like a dream. the lyrics are some of the strongest and most beautiful on the album too... ‘in your car I’m a star and I’m burning through you’, ‘thanks for the high life, baby is the best, passed the test and yes, now I’m here with you and I would like to think that you would stick around, you know that I’d just die to make you proud’, ‘is it safe is it safe to just be who we are’ are such delicate and fragile lines, I want that! anyway this song makes me feel so happy for lana, it’s beautiful to see her release a song about being so comfortable in a relationship. 8. how to disappear — I think I love this song lyrically but not that much instrumentally. actually, this might be the strongest song on the album lyrically, I love the poignant description of lana’s lover and the storyline and verge of emotion. the words just hang over the music so perfectly, I love how they’re like sentences trailing over several musical phrases. ‘I’m always going to be right here’ is such a comforting lyric to hear I don’t know why. also I’m not sure why but this song makes me think of ships at sea. so that’s nice. 9. mariners apartment complex — I sort of feel like I have a love hate relationship with the song, but I mostly love it. the confidence and power in the lyrics is what I like to see <3 I adore how the song slows down and then suddenly speeds up (the best part) and then slows down again, it’s so dynamic and powerful. 10. hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but I have it — the pouring emotion and precise details and intense description is so mesmerising. I think this song could be one of my favourites if it wasn’t for how peaceful and still it is, because like I mentioned, I think I need music to be chaotic and intense for it to be a favourite. I still adore it so much though and I remember listening to it endlessly when it was released before the album. it’s so melancholic yet hopeful, and the ending where lana’s vocals get all high pitched and she sings ‘hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have but I have it yeah I have it yeah I have it I have it’ is the most beautiful sound I’ve heard. and I’m not sure why but I love how lana referenced sylvia plath. 11. norman fucking rockwell — I think I love this song, but again, it lacks the chaos/intensity my favourite songs possess. lana’s description of her lover is so specific and incredible, it highlights her writing abilities and her mind. ‘why wait for the best when I could have you?’ is one of my favourite lyrics ever. I love how the song trails off to an ending by slowly muting itself away, like a ship sailing into the distance. 12. bartender — I LOVE BARTENDER, it’s near the bottom of the list for me though because I just don’t think it has much that distinguishes itself from other songs; like it doesn’t possess anything that unique. I do love this song though, the lyricism is so engaging, and the ‘bar t t tender’ is such a nice touch. the song is also quite visual for me for some reason, like I see deep reds and blacks in my mind when listening to this. 13. doin’ time — ughdg I have such a love hate relationship with this song too. it’s such a vibe and I love the sense of confidence, but I also find it kind of annoying sometimes and it gets stuck in my head often. maybe the fact that it’s a cover also slightly diminishes its value because I don’t really think it connects to lana’s personal life that much? but overall the song is quite cool and like the most playful and upbeat song on the record, which is fun. 14. the next best american record — no offence but this song is like a watered down, rip off of the greatest but a lot worse (and the fact that it’s put right before the greatest on the album probably doesn’t help ldsafkfj) I think I find the instrumentation a little heavy and annoying sometimes, and the lyrics literally talk about wanting to write a good song. like LJDFKSG it’s interesting but not ground breaking.

overall, I adore norman fucking rockwell with my heart. it takes you to such a specific feeling that I usually have to listen to the album from start to beginning to soak it all in. there isn’t a single song I dislike, they’re all so precise and beautiful I love it. however, this is probably one of lana’s softer albums as all the songs blend together like one piece (as opposed to other album where every single song sounded different), so ultraviolence and born to die are still superior in my mind because of that. overall, this record is so emotionally mature, the lyrics are god tier and the instrumentation creates such a perfect atmosphere.